Home Forums Hunting & Shooting Hunter's Campfire The smells you never forget!

Thanks for reminding me about paper shotgun shells. Nothing like the smell of a Mohawk brand .410 shell when the air was just a little brisk.

I've volunteered off and on since the mid 1970's working on a couple of Search teams looking for lost or missing people. I've pulled a couple of bodies out of rivers after 3-4 days. Both in the early 1980's. Still can't get that smell out of my head.

That was primarily during HS and college and then again after retiring. In between I worked as a teacher and HS football coach. Smelling the paint as we lined off a field of freshly cut grass always signaled the beginning of a new year.

Sometimes when I think about a girl I dated several years ago, I swear I can smell her perfume.

The smell of a fish processing plant.

Honey suckle in the evening. I would smell it when I walked home from my girlfriends house now my wife. I smelled it when me and my uncle were fishing in beech creek for bluegills with fly rods too, my uncle is very dear to me so every time I smell it I think of my bride in her prime and my dear old uncle in his golden years. The smell of a baking turkey is also heavenly and the smell of a pumb granny reminds me of my grandmother, she always had some in season.

The smell of a creosoted pole. Any other lineman out there will remember that one.

The smell of Alaska. I've never smelled anything like it anywhere else.

Salt marsh early in the morning.

Woodsmoke from a campfire.

All good smells with good memories.

After 3 years in south east asia, the smell of cedar and spruce trees, and sage brush, in N.W. Colorado, And mom's apple pie,Rio7

'

Submarine atmosphere.

That odor reminds me of both good and bad days... I can detect it on archived paperwork from decades past... An odd odor that I find somewhat comforting.

Happy Thanksgiving to the Fire.

Murphys oil soap.- every year, around this time, as a kid we had to move all the furniture to scrub all the grime and cigarette smoke off the paneling. Never forget that smell.

Hoppes and a few women's perfume.

Baseball glove leather and infield dirt.

Plastic toys from youth.

A neighborhood brewery I frequented as a kid- sour suds and grease all over.

My Church.

The river I grew up next to.

And for the morbid...

I had to clean up an accidental gunshot in the hand one time. Room was small 12x20 maybe, and its was less then 10 minutes afterward.
Floor pretty covered, drops as big as dinner plates in a heavy trail. Must've got a artery. Looked like a scene from a movie.couple bone chips layin.
The smell hit like a sledge hammer just inside the door way. Stopped me from entering initially.
It was incredibly hot in the room, like it was very quickly spoiling or fermenting, but it wasnt hardened, or turning black, yet. Still very fluid.

Metallic. Sour. Rusty. Heavy. Almost like it had its own full body mass. Never forget that smell. Can conjure it at will by remembering the clean up.

Yessir !

Grew up on a salt marsh,so that hits home too. Low tide at that.

Ahh good one bucktales.

Yes, creosoted ties on a blistering summer day. Walked them for miles, hopped a few trains...youth.

Thanks Lad. Your mention of watering tomato plants and I could actually smell them as I read.

The crisp, NE Montana prairie "sippin air", on the edge of the grass and sage surrounded riparian coulee, filled with wild roses, snowberries and chokecherries, where my dad and I always opened sharptail and hun season. There was usually some fresh wheat stubble to add to the beautifully complex aroma. Startin to sound like a good whisky, but it was even better.

Mink skinning.

Herb Lenon's coyote lure, J Curtis Grigg's "Pike oil".

Musty Cottonwood leaves, in the fall.

Fresh cut alfalfa field and freshly baled alfalfa.

I salute you, sir & am glad you made it through those hellish 4 days.

MM

Didn't think you were skeered of anything ......... Laughin' here as I almost said the smell of a nice puzzy......you did me a one up with that line.

MM

I think i might have known that gal.

A skunk on a frosty November night....

The bad smells I'd as soon forget will stay that way until I smell them again, and I hope I don't... Ever.

The good smells...

A horse as you brush and saddle it.

A new truck with leather seats.

A clean baby.

Peach cobbler in the oven.

Bourbon.

The way my granddad's pickup smelled when I was a kid on opening morning of deer season.

The perfume of the first girl I was in love with.

My mother's cooking.

Gun smoke.

A campfire.

Rain on the dryness of the desert.

Evergreen trees on a frosty morning in the mountains.

My dog. (Not when he's wet though.)

Running PT behind Katusa's after a Korean holiday!