Want to hear some of your hunting stories.

Buddy related a story about him and his dad hunting. I saw his dad shoot a lot and he was the best shot I have ever seen. He had been a small arms instructor for Uncle Sam back in the day.

They were rifle hunting elk and all of a sudden, his dad whispers "stop" and pulls up his rifle. My buddy thinks his dad has completely lost it, since there is nothing out there to look at. All of a sudden, BOOM, his dad's 300 Mag goes off. "Come on, we got work to do now" says the Dad. My buddy is completely unglued by this time.

His dad had seen the tips of antlers above a log, and the bull was peeking at them from under the log. He shot it through the eye. I don't recall the range.
 
davlandrum
Have to compliment the shot and mostly the "Hunter's Eye". Have trained my wife to have a Hunter's Eye" and she can spot deer better than I. I will see three and she will count five. While squirrel hunting with my Gradson, he spotted a squirrel looking out of a hole in a tree. Could barely make him out, scoped him and sure enough. Not a good shot so he will live for another season. He has the Hunter's Eye. I often ask how many game animals do we stalk past while they are watching us. Saw my Bow hunting buddy stalk past a nice buck and that buck held tight till it was clear.
 
I am pretty good at finding deer ears poking up from a brush pile, but have found only good looking sticks when I think I see horns.

He was just a natural great shot, plus he worked at it. When he passed away, my buddy inherited the "load notebooks" - 6 big binders of load data for every caliber the family had ever owned. He would do 5 shot groups of each load until he found the perfect one for each rifle.
 
Most of my hunt stories are not gun related but you asked...
As a 16-18 year old (many years ago) I ran a small trap line. I had a few dozen placed along a Coulee (cajun fer big county ditch). One morning before school I was out runnin' traps and came across my first Nutria. I did not use guns. I had a small maple club. I whacked him and as I did he ducked and chomped down on my and took it:eek: I chit and ran home waking up my dad fer permission to use his/my .410 to till the "baby bear" I had trapped. He let me and I bagged my first nutria. He and ma bought me a pawnshop single shot .22 for christmas.
Brent
 
As my handle says, I hunt hogs using dogs only. We do not kill the hog usually. Well I love this sport. Guns and beer don't mix so this way i get to drinks a bit while huntin'
One night I had some other guys over a hunt with me and junior. The dogs were workin well. I dropped back from the crowd... no need to rush when it is 80 degrees in the middle of the night. I proceed to open my cut bag (mainly for field surgery stuff for the dog injury we may face) and dig out a cold beer. I am walking along about a hunert yards back from the other guys and the dogs were about 200 yards ahead. All of a sudden in the near moonless foggy darkness I see a dog coming at me. I am about to send him on with a "git ahead" when it just ain't runnin' like a dog. from about 10 feet I realize it is a hundred pound hog coming right at me at full steam. I barely had time to go offense and snort at him. He jogged off course just enuff to miss me! I never spilled a drop!
Brent
 
As a young man I loved to listen to my granddad tell us about how he grew up, and some of the things that he did. He was born in 1898, and they were poor folks. He hunted for food. I reallly like his story of tapping squirrles.
I being a dumb kid just had to ask him what he was talking about. He said his gun was too large to be shooting squirrles for food. if he sohot the squirrles they wouldnt be much left. So he had to learn how to tap a squirl. He went on to explain that tapping a squirril was driving the squirril up the tree untill it got in the smaller branches at the top of the tree, and then he would shoot the limb under the squirril. the limb would hit the squirril and knock him out of the tree.
Now I was 15 or 16 at the time and this sounded so good to me. So the next time I went squirril hunting I took my dads 45 long colt with me to try it out. now I took my 22 rifle too, it was a nice idea but I couldnt shoot to many with the thumbuster, it cost to much.
Any way when I got out there I found a squirril in a tree and went round and round the tree to run him up higher and higher. Of course it would stay on the opposite side of the limb from me and when he got up in the small limbs I pulled out the 45 and aimed at the limb I shot it and sure enough the squirril came fall ing out of the tree. I walked over and picked it up and put it in the toughsack I carried on my belt.
and went on hunting. I got two more before I found out something that granddad forgot to tell me. that darn squirril wasnt dead, just knocked out.
It was like having a weedeater in a sack. I thought he was going to eat my leg off before I could get the sack off my belt and beat it on a tree trunk to kill the squirril.
 
Shinnery, gramps fergot to tell you that ya grab him by the hips and smack his head off the tree trunk a few times! I have had a rabbit, squirrel and a pheasent "come to life" in my game vest... I musta looked like a freak with each!
Brent
 
This is the hunt and it's cool and as dumb as you can get. We were hunting bears in the Feather River canyon just north of the town of Washington. My partner Bud was wanting a picture of a bear growling, seem simple huh. So as things go we treed a smaller bear maybe 200 lbs, almost blond in color and Bud said this is the one. Only thing is the bear didn't want to play along, we chucked stones, sticks, yelled and nothing worked. The bear was in a fur tree that had lots of limbs all the way to the ground on a steep canyon wall. We looked straight at the bear but he was about 20-25 ft above the ground. As a joke I got a 10 ft stick and started sharpening on end and said hey Bud you climb up in the tree get on the opposite side of the tree and Pole the bear with the stick! Bud is tough, he's been shot 3 times and can't remember where the holes are. Anyway I guess he thought I was serous gave me the camera and climbed into the tree, got Evan with the bear. He pokes the bear it would snarl and bite the stick, but I couldn't get the picture. After 3 or 4 tries he lets out a yell shoots his Smith 28 twice as he falls out of the tree. :eek:The bear is tired of the nonsense and he bales. We rush down to Bud and find him laying on his back with the stick pointing state up in one hand and his 28 in the other pointing strait up, kind of gasping. His down vest was all ripped down the front, down everywhere, but no blood thank god! I said did you shoot the bear and he kind of smiled and said H##l no the bobcat!!:mad: When the bear ran up the tree a bobcat ran up first and we didn't see it. I guess it got tired of the nonsense too and jumped in old Buds lap! Only problem was he missed the dam cat, bummer huh!! :cool:Doc
 
that is right up there with Jerry Clowers coon hunt skit!:D BTW it is a southern favorite! "Just shoot up amongst us as one of us needs some relief!"
Brent
 
I had the dumbest luck elk hunting this year. This was my first year elk hunting, and I had only gotten out for about one day total. Our fish and game department extended the season for two weeks because it had been so warm this year and not many people had harvested elk, so on the last day of the extended season, I went out with my wife to check out some public land that I wanted to hunt next year. We got out there late and saw some other hunters leaving just as we got there, so I figured the place would be cleaned out. No big deal, I thought, since I'm only looking for later.

So we walked up one hill and back down the other side. Then we argued over whether or not to go up the next hill or go around it. My wife, being 5 months pregnant at the time (now 7 months), wanted to go around, but I wanted to go up. Finally we agreed to do it my way, and worked our way up the hill. When we got there, I started glassing to the left. A couple of minutes later she caught up to me. She hadn't been there 10 seconds when I heard her say "HOLY S**T!" So I looked back to my right, and about 800 yards away was a 6 point bull elk and a spike. We crouched down and I started checking him out through my binos. After watching him for a few minutes, he laid down, right out in the open! So we snuck back down the hill, and I decided I would go right up the hill where he was bedded to see if I could get a shot. After about a 10 minute stalk up the hill, I suddenly saw antlers. I thought for sure I was busted, so I shouldered my rifle for a quick shot. Except that the elk wasn't moving. So I looked carefully through my scope, and saw that he was ASLEEP!:eek: I couldn't believe it. I was 40 yards away from a sleeping bull elk. So again, I shouldered my rifle, and, realizing that I had as much time as I wanted, took care to place a 180 grain bullet from my .300 WSM right behind his front shoulder. Hey, I couldn't miss, all I could see in the scope was elk hair. The bull lifted his head to look back and see what had just happened, and then his head flopped over to the side and he expired.

I still can't believe it was that easy. I'm sure it won't be that way again. And some of my friends who have been hunting elk for years still won't talk to me, having never shot a 6 point bull themselves. The head is at the taxidermist right now, and I can't wait to get it back.:D
 
I hope it is ok to post another one. I used to take my boy and his friend fishing when they were younger. one time I took them when they were 11 or so. now his friend just got a new 22 single shot for his birthday and wanted to know if he could take it with us. I didnt care, but momma said oh no. but I talked her into letting them take it if they only had some bird shot. we got to the stock tank we were going to camp at and fish. I started to set up camp and like kids will do they found a jack rabbit in the brush. they wanted to hunt the poor thing with bird shot. I told them to be careful and not shoot unless they had a clear shot. off they took. while I`m setting up the camp I hear a shot. in a bit I hear another and so on for almost a hour. in a while they show up in camp with this dead jackrabbit. they want to know if we can eat it. now I aint eating a no jack in the middle of the summer in Texas, not a good idea. but to humor the boysI told them we would use it for bate. and I started to dress it out. but there wasnt a drop of blood on the whole thing. I look it over for ten minutes and couldnt find anywhere they had hit it. I think they ran the poor thing to death
 
Me and my buddy were hunting the great chupacabra, I was using my trusty old Red Rider and he was using a slingshot. We finally found the beast sleeping, but he was tied to a tree. Suddenly an alien spacecraft came down and warped him up. I guess he is a pet or something. I took a shot at the ship, but my Red Rider failed to bring the heavily shielded spacecraft down.

We are lucky to have survived such an encounter without receiving a probing.

(just FYI, some of the other stories sound as believable as this one!;))

P.S. If they are true, don't be angry with me. :D
 
For me, the first anything has always been the best - the first pheasant, ruffie, sharptail, deer, elk (still need a first moose, still working on that one).

The most memorable hunting story I have so far is my elk hunt a few years ago. I had just caught a herd of elk moving off of a field into a half section of spruce and poplars that bordered a creek bottom. It was winter and I was following an established trail through the stand. Every once in awhile I would mew a cow call to cover the sound of my steps. I stopped in a clearing where I could see a field to the north and south. I began to here steps getting loader and loader - then I saw elk walking the edge of the southern field 75 yards away from me. There had to be a hundred cows and calves and spike bulls. I watched them go past me in single file - as far as I know, they didn't even know I was there.

After they moved past me, I was getting ready to get moving myself. Again, I herd steps coming towards me, but this time through the bush. After what seemed like an eternity, elk started melting out of the trees. Most of them were walking the same trail I was on. The calves were in the lead, along with the lead cow. All I had to hide behind was a 12" wide poplar. They came within about 20 yards. As soon as I moved to try and get a shot, they all put the binders on. They looked at me for a few seconds, and then bolted the way the came.

Somewhat discouraged, I followed the trail to where it came onto the southern field that I had just seen the 100 odd cows and calves earlier. I was about to give in for the day, when I heard what sounded like horses coming over the hill. Here was the same 100 cows and calves coming over the hill. The lead cow got within 50-75 yards of me before she stopped - I had the scope on her the whole time. When she spun to run back the other way, I took my shot.

That was my first elk! :D
 
Mods, please delete if inappropriate.

I can’t vouch for the authenticity of this story, but it was told to me as being gospel by my mother and her family. I was never told who the masterminds of this incident were, since none would fess up, but the general consensus is that it was the “older” kids.

My mom comes from a large family, with a total of 9 brothers and sisters, all born and raised in west Tennessee. Once, when they were kids, they were all over at their grandmother’s house and they began to get a little bored. Being country folk, they wanted to go hunting, but being poor, they didn’t have anything for the kids to hunt with.

Well, the older kids told the younger ones that you can hunt squirrel by just using a stick. The younger ones had never heard of such a thing so they wanted to learn how to do it. They were excited at this mysterious technique and volunteered to do all the work. The older kids explained the procedure: first, go find a nice straight stick about 4 feet long, and about as big around as your finger. Next, you have to get up under the squirrel’s nest and shove the stick into it and then twist it as fast as you can. The squirrel would get agitated and jump out of the nest, at which point you can catch it. The secret being that you have to twist real fast, or else the squirrel won’t leave the nest.

So the young‘uns found a suitable stick and asked the older ones to lead them to a squirrel nest. The older ones said that they knew that a mean old squirrel had built one up under the house and it would be perfect. So the kids crawled up under the house with the stealth of hillbilly ninjas to the place where the older kids said the nest was. Next, the older kids instructed the eager new hunters to peek through cracks in the floorboards and wait until they see the old grey squirrel. They didn’t have to wait too long. All of a sudden, they thrust the stick through the crack and began a twisting and a turning. What a commotion! Kids laughing and hollering and above them, the sounds of Armageddon. But what happened was not what was expected. Apparently, the younger kids didn’t know that they were under their grandmother’s kitchen, right in front of the sink. They also didn’t realize that that at the time, their grandmother was standing there in her bathrobe doing the dishes. The kids had indeed, “twisted the old grey squirrel out of the tree”.
 
After 40 years I finally went out on my first hunt this fall. Nice chunk of private property owned by a friend of mine with a few great "overlook" spots near a creek. Arrived just a daybreak and realized it wasn't just cold, it was DAMNED cold at 17 degrees with a steady, cutting, breeze.

So we find a couple of good spots to sit (in the lee of some shrubs out of the wind) and settle in to wait. Time passes and I'm thanking God for the hand warmers tucked in my gloves and toe warmers in my boots :D and around us the forest starts to come to sluggish life.

Now my friend owns a chunk of the land on the opposite side of the creek as well, but once the uphill grade starts that's the neighbors property and he's asked us not to hunt on his land. Well three medium sized deer wander out and, you guessed it, they just meander along that property line, never really getting into the "free fire" zone. After about 30 minutes of this I'm thinking to myself "ah heck, now they're just playing with me" when, to add insult to injury, a grey squirrel jumps off of one tree branch onto the barrel of my rifle...and just sits there looking at me!

Finally Mr Squirrel jumps off and skitters away and I look back down the hill and the deer have absolutely vanished <sigh>.
 
My first Maine black bear hunt with dogs.

I'm not that good at story telling but here it goes: I have a friend Wayne that is a registered Maine guide and when I was in High school he invited me and my best friend Matt to go bear hunting with him and some other guys using his bear dogs. I was 17, (26 now), and had signed up to join the Army as an Infantry soldier after I graduated High school, my birth day was on my first day at basic yeah:), So I had a little Rambo complex going.

To make a long story short the dogs get on a bear and ran it for miles, they even crossed a small river, and after about a half of day running the radio tracking device that Wayne has was indicating that the dogs were not moving and had probably treed the bear. We all head in towards the signal, about 10 of us, when we got there we found that the dogs had not treed the bear but had instead pushed it into it's den.

It was my friend Jeremy's turn to shoot the bear. All they had was a mini mag light to shine down this hole in between two huge ledges. Jeremy said he could barely make out the outline of the bear it was that far down in. He drew his Dan Wesson .44 mag and fired once and then fired again for good measure. Wayne went and got a long tree branch and shoved it down the hole, the branch moved a little from the bear and after the branch stoped moving Wayne asked so who is going to go down the very small hole and retrieve the bear? I looked around and realized that my hunting party was a little too chunky and no one was stepping forward, because I was going to be a grunt shortly I thought it would be in good taste to represent the Army so I stepped forward and volunteered.

Before I entered the hole they tied a rope around my waste so if the bear decided that the fight wasn't over yet they could haul my butt out. Then Jeremy offered for me to take his Dan Wesson into the den with me I replied that thing will probably blow my ear drums out and ricochet off the den walls and kill me. So I pulled out my 2 inch pocket buck knife and said this should do:cool: they all looked at me as if a had a big pair or that I was insane.

I started down the hole, It was a very tight fit in fact I could not turn around and I had to low crawl, It is amazing how this bear could fit in here. As I was going down I thought man this is a stupid idea, I had the flash light and my knife out in front of me and as I went further in I could see the bear. The den went in about 15 feet and the Bear's head was pointed in my direction and was partially blocking the tunnel. The bears body was in the actual den were it opened up a little. About this time my face was about a foot from the Bear's face and I realized that it was still breathing, I could see it's breath. The pucker factor peaked out and all I could do was lay still and hope for the best. About 2 minutes passed and the bear let out one last breath and then I took my buck knife and jabbed the bear right in the nose with the point of the blade, the bear did not react.

The fun begins, some how I managed to crawl around the bear and got behind it where the den opened up a little. It stunk in there and of course the bear relieved himself and I was covered in fresh number two which looks a lot like human number two, his last meal looked to be apples:barf:. I took the rope off of my waste and tied it around the Bear's neck and the guys outside of the den pulled as I pushed from behind. As the bear got 3/4 of the way out of the tunnel he got stuck and I was trapped behind him. I yelled to the guys that if they didn't get him out soon I was going to cut the bear open and crawl out his mouth:mad:, well with that they all gave one good heave and the bear came out.

The bear ended up being only 210 pounds but the guys thought I was crazy and they all admitted that if they could of fit into the hole there was no way in hell that they would have done that. They all remember that day and have told others about it and every once in awhile people around the area will refer to me as; oh, you're that kid that crawled into that bear den after that bear and I go yep:cool:. Oh, and when I got home I was covered from head to toe with blood and my mother freaked and thought it was mine and I said no it was not mine it was from the bear when I crawled down into the den to get it, she didn't like that.

One final note the bear had been shot twice in the neck and there was no way he could of hurt me, but I didn't know that when I went in after him.
 
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First time i went bow hunting I ended up bagging 2 deer with 1 shot. Was about 5 yards away from a nice little 4 point buck and behind him about another 5 yds was a big doe. Well, I shot him and the arrow (2413 with a 3 blade muzzy) went right through the vitals and never hit a rib (yeah a freakin miracle) and the arrow then continued on its flight path and ended up hitting the doe right behind the shoulder and partially exiting in front of the chest ( i had no idea the doe was hit at this time).

I was just sitting there watching the buck who was doing the normal confused trot and trying to figure out what just hit him and that is when i saw the doe walking around and then just dropped. I did the "what the f#@$k" when the doe dropped and that spooked the buck who bolted about 20 yds then just slowed down and layed down (never to get up).

At this time I was really excited, but didn't want to get up and move because I might spook them, so waited a little longer than when they both weren't moving I went to each and made sure each had died then field dressed both and dragged the buck back to the truck. Had to get on the CB to call the neighbor (who is a game warden) and had him come over and help with the large doe. I told him what happened and he said it was a once in a lifetime thing for a bow hunter but he let me off the hook as long as i used my brothers tag for the doe.

My brother didn't ahve a problem with this, because he a lazy and liked the idea of getting a filled tag without having to get off his rear.

Funny thing is i didn't get another deer that year for the rifle season or muzzle loader.
 
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