I used to live on a course and would go easter egg hunting with some regularity. (I still don't buy golf balls.) What amazed me was the number of clubs I'd find. If they were on the course, I'd take them to the Pro-shop, but if they were in the woods, I figured they were mine.
One of the best was an old Hogan brass toe down putter. It even had a graphite shaft someone had installed. Bent silly. I thought that someone missed a putt on the previous hole and slammed his bag with it, then on the next he discovered it had been bent and was sent flying 30 yards into the woods.
Took it home and a few minutes in the vise with a blowtorch, had it fixed.