Hunting Stories

[Sniper-T]

As Stig pointed out, activity in the hunting threads has dropped off... probably due to the fact that most hunting seasons are over right now, and we have time to kill before they re-open in the Spring.

So, I thought a thread where we could share some of the hunting stories that we all must have. It can be anything, from the trophy you got, your first hunt, the one that got away, hits and misses; well, you get the idea.

Lets have some fun!

[Sniper-T]

Two years ago, it was late in the season and my buddy and I already had 5 deer between us. One more would have been nice, but we were pretty set for meat for the year. I knew I had a couple of nice bucks hanging around my hunting shack, as I had pics of them from my game cameras. One weekend morning I decided to go out and try for them. So I prepped my gear the night before, and in the morning, a couple hours befor light I walked out to my Shack.

I sat around listening, and calling (a bit) until the sun started rising (legal shooting time) and hadn't heard a thing. It was now light enough to see, so I pulled out a book, as I often do, and started reading. At the end of every paragraph, I look up and scan around, and then continue reading.

It was almost 10:30 before I saw my first animal, a Nice Doe, and surprisingly she had a young one with her. The fawn was out of its spots, but not by much. It must have been a late birth, and it was going to be a hard winter for both of them! Again, since I was pretty set for meat, there was no reason to shoot these two. So I just sat back and watched them.

The doe kept looking over at me, but since I didn't seem to be a threat, she ignored me. I used this time to play around a little. softly, I practiced my calls and I did some rattling... watched their reactions. At one point the fawn came over to investigate. He came right up to the door, and stuck his head in the open window, not more than 2 feet from me. I'd make a soft fawn call, he'd answer me. over and over. It was a hoot! Once he wandered off a bit again, I lit up a smoke (small cigar), and was blowing the smoke out towards them. They totally ignored it at first, but then, again, the fawn came to investigate. I blew a puff of smoke just as he was getting close, and the wind took it right across him... and he totally ignored it. he came up to the window again, so I gave him a tap on the nose with my finger and he calmly walked away.

I watched them for over an hour total before they wandered off, and by then my tummy was starting to growl, so I packed it in and headed back for lunch. I spent 6 hours there, had 2 deer within 20 feet of me for over an hour, I didn't fire a shot, and it is still one of my fondest hunting memories!

:)

[The Stig]

The one time I tried hunting I ended up in the tree-stand while the cousin was on the ground.

A huge hawk (read: the size of a car with sharp talons capable of ripping through armor plate) landed in a tree about 50 yards to our left. I saw it and though "oh, isn't nature neat". After a few minutes it flew to a tree about 50 yards across the open field to a tree that was both in front of us and to our left. As it majestically swooped across the field and then turned upwards at the last minute to obtain a new perch I thought "wow....I am at one with nature".

I tired to go into suspended animation and not move a muscle. This was the first live animal we had spotted after two agonizing hours of nothingness. Not wanting to be the one to spoil our big game adventure, I froze as best I could. Careful not to move a muscle I moved my eyes to follow the birds movement.

After about 10 minutes of surveying the scene, Mr Hawk takes flight and moves into a position about 50 yards directly across the open field from me. He found a new landing zone in a tree that was approximately the same height as my tree stand.

Frozen to avoid spooking it I watched as the hawk landed and began scanning the field. It was clearly hunting the electronic screeching animal in the middle of the open field and moving around it a leg at a time before zooming in for the kill. You know, with those huge needle sharp talons of death.

Time seemed to stand still as I watched this beautiful creature survey the ground before it. Truly a gift from God to commune with nature in such an intimate way. It's head would bob from one side of the field to the other as it clearly plotted it's next move.

As it took to the air one last time I began thinking, "wow....I can see why people like hunting. It's so peaceful and wonderful. Animals and nature speak a language all it's own. I am at peace and HOLYFUCKINGSHIT THAT MOTHERFUCKING CHICKEN OF DEATH IS FLYING DIRECTLY AT MY FACE FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK"

This goddamed flying killing machine swooped down from it's perch in the tree, glided across the open field about ten feet above the ground and then began swooping back up to where I was sitting. I mean this thing was flying directly at ME. Straight as a laser beam it headed right towards my position.

So as I begin to envision 27" talons piercing my face and ripping my brain out my nose I have to make a decision. The tree-stand was probably 10 or 12 feet in the air so I didn't want to bail out, especially given the Marlin 30-30 in my hands and the shorter brush below.

I probably need to clarify something here. When I say "tree stand" I should be more accurate. A small piece of rotting plywood tacked to a tree would be more accurate. I barely had enough purchase with my now firmly clinched butt-cheeks to keep from falling off the damn thing anyway so any real "evasive maneuvers" were going to be tough to pull-off without ending up flying off the "tree-stand" and impaling myself on a tree below.

So as Mr "I'm going to claw you fucker" bird begins to pull up, ostensibly to gain altitude and zoom up to his new perch I've got about .000000000387 seconds to decide how I'm going to avoid having my face turned into mush.

At the last second I decided my only option, besides pissing my pants and crying "mommy", was to raise the 7lbs chunk of wood and steel in my hands as a shield. With any luck this gigantic bird, about the size of an F15, would only remove my fingers. I can live without fingers. Hell, without fingers I'll probably get a robo-hand which is actually kinda cool. This disaster in the making might turn out to be a good thing after all! I mean, chicks dig robohands right?

I guess this winged death dealer saw the movement and realized that tree was already occupied so he diverted and flew off never to be seen again.

I don't think my cousin was amused when I burst out laughing after I realized my head was not going to be torn to shreds. I guess it sorta blew our cover and we had to call it a day.

Anyway, that's my one hunting story and like most things in my life, it was a complete disaster.

Still wouldn't mind the robo-hands however.

[izzyscout21]

^^ rotflmao

[mitunnelrat]

Sniper, I've sat and just watched deer too. Usually because I'm half dozing in my chair and there's no clear shot when I see them, lol. One doe was pretty close though, and hung around for some time like your doe and fawn did. That was back when I was still waiting on a buck being my first deer. Now, a couple years further along, that won't matter. I want some meat!

I didn't get out deer hunting this year at all, and haven't done much small game hunting, which is why I haven't posted at all in the hunting section. Rest assured though, once I get out, see something, and drop it, I'll be sharing here. Squirrel is open until the end of next month, and rabbit goes a month beyond that. Then I'm on to fishing.

I have better luck at that.

[Sniper-T]

Hey, it doesn't have to be current, it can be as far back as your childhood. Anything counts. let's kick back around the campfire, and regale each other.

[LUNCHBOX]

Here is one, Me and my cousin (John) went deer hunting. Now anyone that knows me knows I might overpack for any situation. That being said, I was in a ground blind 75 yards caddy corner in a field from my cousin (also in a blind) I am in a folding chair with my wobby and the sun on my face and couldn't be more asleep. (turned off the Motorola) I wake up hearing a soft noise outside. I figure John is coming over so we can walk around to find signs in the snow. I raise up to look out the flap and am face to face with a doe. She doesn't bolt, just stands there like I'm going pet her. I had to talk to get her to react and she still more or less walked off. Needless to say I let her go (she earned it) Turned on the radio to John yelling about a big ass deer just outside my blind. I still hear about it to this day.

[Grumpy Old Man]

About 15 years ago I was in elk camp with my buddies and I was the youngest of the old farts being in my mid-forties at the time. Opening day was bluebird weather and we were hunting in our shirtsleeves. My buddy Paul's son hiked up the ridge to the top of the draw, a distance of about 2 miles. I walked the ridge and Paul was walking the dark timber. Paul and I had antlerless only tags. Well, his son kicked up a small herd and sent them down the other side of the draw for me and Paul. Long story short we dropped two. Paul got a cow and I got a bull calf.

With the animals field dressed, we hung the cow in the dark timber about 6' above the ground and slung the calf on a pole and started the trek out. We had gone about 3/4 mile in the dark timber when that calf really kicked our butts. so we skinned him and halved him and hung one half in a tree about 5' above the ground. We got the half back to camp, had a liver and onions dinner that couldn't be beat and turned in secure in the knowledge that we made meat and it was safely hung in the timber.

The next morning we awoke to a white out (we were camped at 10,000') so we played poker and saw who could lie the best for the rest of the day. The snow quit about 8:00 p.m. that night and we planned our hike for the next day, all the while listening to the 'yotes howl in the distance.

The next day we took our 4x4s to the hunting area and put on our snowshoes as the snow was about 3' deep. I only was carrying a .44 mag revolver as I didn't want to be overburdened and only had a deer tag left to fill, which was not high on my priority list. I stroked up the draw ahead of Paul and got to where we hung my other carcass half. All that was left was a small section of ribcage. the snow was deep enough that the 'yotes got to it and pulled it down. No wonder they were howling so much!!

I was mad as a wet hen and went stalking up the draw, with thunder on my brow, to where we hung the cow, hoping that those pesky dogs hadn't done her in as well. Well, I got there and the carcass was intact but had been swung around with massive claw marks showing in the chest cavity! Holy carp! A bear must have done it!

The snow was a lot less deep here so I removed my snowshoes and began to survey the scene of the bear incident when I noticed tracks about the size of the bottoms of pie pans. Darn, that's a big black bear. It was about 15 degrees F that morning. As I looked around, I looked down and saw I was standing in a puddle of yellow slush. The bear had marked its territory and real recently too! At that point I felt seriously undergunned and was rapidly developing a serious case of bearanoia! Paul showed up about 10 minutes later, with pack horses he rented from the cowboys down in fly camp. I told him the story and showed him the tracks and slush puddle, which he found hilarious. Anyway we got the cow quartered and in the panniers when the horses started acting spooky. Paul began to get bearanoia too. We got out of there and back to camp and got the meat hung.

We all had a good time recounting our bear adventure to our other buddies in camp. Two days later we were out after muley's and stopped at fly camp. The guy's there told us that the morning before one of them came running out of the latrine with his pants at half mast, screaming about a bear after him! They saw a black bear heading up the mountain from the direction of their latrine.

I was disappointed that I lost half my meat, but I more than made up for by having this story to tell!! Grumpy

[Sniper-T]

^
nice! tx for Sharing

[Grumpy Old Man]

YW Sniper! That's the only really cool hunting story I have. Most are some variation on Stig's experience.