Me and a buddy were hunting on Mt Graylock in western Mass several years ago. While hanging around the campfire after dinner, a porcupine waddled in the tent. We shoved him out with sticks, but he came back. This went on about 4-5 times. I guess he finally got sick of being shoved with a large tree branch and left.
Want to hear some of your hunting stories.
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Jack O'Conner
New member
In 1996, I received permission to cross a ribbon of private land to access a small landlocked portion of Black Hills National Forest. By landlocked, I mean to say that access was blocked on all sides by posted private lands. The kindly Rancher I spoke with told me no one had hunted that 2.5 square mile area of public land for over 10 years. Oddly, no one had asked either.
It was a bright and sunny day with no clouds at all. Patches of snow remained from the previous week’s storm. But the temperature hovered near zero and a brisk wind moaned as it blew through the large pines that dotted this area. I felt the chill sting my ears and face but rest of my body was warm inside layers of good outdoor clothing. I carried Meat-Maker over my shoulder and stopped often to study the area ahead with my 10X field glasses. About a dozen does were observed along the rim of a large basin but my hunt was for a big buck.
These does were alert but did not run as I crossed the basin and struggled up the opposite slope toward an alpine meadow. From ¼ mile away, I could make out a stand of mountain mahogany. This leafy bush grows best where shaded from the afternoon sun. Mule deer seem to love it and are often found close by this vegetation after winter kills off other ground plants. I levered a cartridge into the chamber and lowered the hammer to half cock for safety. These metallic sounds must have carried for some distance because a raven launched itself from an unseen roost to fly away caw-cawing alarm for all to hear. The wind continued to moan across the frozen landscape. My toes began to hurt a little from the cold.
I found a heavily used game trail in a little break in the tree line that formed a saddle within the ridgeline. Bighorn sheep, elk, and mule deer tracks were observed. Ever present coyote tracks were evident as well. I posted myself about 100 yards from this narrow trail and waited quietly in the shade of a large pine for a good shot. After an hour, my toes quit hurting. I’d forgotten about the stinging cold upon my ears. Little did I know that frostbite was attacking my flesh and turning liquid blood into frozen ice crystals. About half hour before dark, a deer snorted loudly. I knew the animal was making its way along the game trail. I knelt in the snow and cocked the hammer.
The tall antlers nearly took my breath away as the colossal buck stepped into view. I hadn’t seen a buck like this in many years. The long polished ivory tips contrasted with the dark forest background. He walked steadily with his nose up at times to scent the air. I slowly raised the Winchester and steadied myself against the pine. The buck stopped broadside to me at about 125 yards. He exhaled loudly and a large cloud of frosty steam was expelled from his open mouth. The crosshairs steadied on his shoulder and my carbine cracked loudly to break the stillness of the mountainside. Instantly, the buck toppled over and kicked wildly for a moment as he struggled to get up. But the 170 grain soft nose was aimed true and he was hit hard. The struggling ceased. I approached the downed animal cautiously from behind and touched an eyeball with my barrel. But the great buck did not blink as he was quite dead indeed. Another one shot kill for Meat-Maker! Meat-Maker is the name of my modern angle-ejecting Winchester 30-30, a gift from Dad the previous year.
After dressing the animal, I attempted to drag it. But the animal barely moved. Dressed weight was guessed at close to 300 pounds and most of the ground was lacking snow. Instead of risking injury crossing the canyon in the growing darkness, I took the shortest route back to my car and headed to town for my wheelbarrow and help. I sensed it was getting colder.
By the time my friend Keith and I returned to the ridge, it was past 8PM. A full moon was already up and cast shadows across the basin. Keith said it was the biggest buck he’d ever seen. It took both of us to get the animal loaded into my wheelbarrow and lashed down with rope. We took turns at the handles and made our way across the basin cautiously. A slip in the darkness could spell serious injury in this steep country. We got back to my place two hours later and hung the buck from our front landing to remove the hide. I had to use a ladder and chain hoist to lift the heavy animal. Great clouds of steam rolled off the flesh as we removed the thick hide. It was getting colder!
We finished and went inside at about 11 PM. Within a moment, my ears and face began to hurt. My toes ached badly as if crushed. That’s when I knew I was in trouble. Too stubborn to visit the ER, I toughed out the long night with Aspirins. But in the morning large blisters had formed on my ears and cheeks. My toes were dark blue and hurt badly. It was time to visit the doctor.
The temperature continued to drop. The mercury finally stopped its dive at 27 below zero. Trees in the forest next to our home split open with loud cracking sounds. High temperature over the next two weeks was only 11 below zero! I had to remain indoors under strict doctor’s orders. The buck froze solid but my wife and kids wrapped the large animal with blankets to keep birds away. After my frostbite healed, an electric SAWZALL was used to cut the frozen animal into manageable pieces and brought inside to thaw enough for butchering.
I’m proud of this trophy as it is mounted with dignity within our Family Room. But the memories related to frostbite remind me of the tough winters of western South Dakota.
shinnery jim
New member
Sorry guys but I got to tell you one more. while in high school I had a friend who went with his dad every year hunting elk in colarodo. now this was in the late 60s. they had been doing this for years and he always told us about the hunt, and would even share the vinison with us if we were lucky. this year was going to be great for him, he had just gotten a new 7 mm mag for the hunt and he ws so proud of it.
when he came home he didnt say much about the hunt. we had to ask how it went. He said they had a lot of good luck and a little bad. Had to ask his dad what happened to get the whole story. seems that on the first day my friend had gotten a shot a beautiful bull and dropped it in its tracks. they walked up to the bull and jabed it with the barrle of the rifle and it didnt move a hair his dad got out the camera and my friend layed his rifle across the antlers and held the head up to have his picture taken. when the flash went off the bull woke up and took offwith his rifle in his antlers. they tracked it for hours and never found a drop of blood. It wasnt till they got home that they saw in the picture that he had hit the base of an antler and knocked it out. he never found his rifle
when he came home he didnt say much about the hunt. we had to ask how it went. He said they had a lot of good luck and a little bad. Had to ask his dad what happened to get the whole story. seems that on the first day my friend had gotten a shot a beautiful bull and dropped it in its tracks. they walked up to the bull and jabed it with the barrle of the rifle and it didnt move a hair his dad got out the camera and my friend layed his rifle across the antlers and held the head up to have his picture taken. when the flash went off the bull woke up and took offwith his rifle in his antlers. they tracked it for hours and never found a drop of blood. It wasnt till they got home that they saw in the picture that he had hit the base of an antler and knocked it out. he never found his rifle
UniversalFrost
New member
Jack, awsome buck. Now that is what I am talking about when I saw the deer are bigger up north.
I am a south dakota boy displaced in the south west and the deer are a third the size of the ones up north.
AGain, awsome buck!! Wish I were back in SD.
I am a south dakota boy displaced in the south west and the deer are a third the size of the ones up north.
AGain, awsome buck!! Wish I were back in SD.
BrunoNorway
New member
Phoca vitulina
Also known as Harbor Seal or Common seal...
I was attending a hunting and fishing school in Norway some years back.
My whole class was going seal-hunting at the west coast of Norway,
it took some time to get there and when we finaly got there the eximent grew as none of us had never hunted seal before, including our teacher.
We had a stratgy thoug, we would take the bout out to difrent islands and jump to shore and the boat would speed of.
you are probertly wondering why we would do that.
The seal is a very courius creature,
he would come up to see what the noise was about and then we would fire.
Sounds easy right?
Well we started out allright, we got in the boat an got of at the island.
It was as the seal was expekting us, i haddent gotten more than 70 feet towards my post as i saw somthing "dipping" in the surface.
At that time i had no ammo in my rifle, i got down using by back pack as a base for my rifle, aiming at the "thing" with my crosshair at the center of the "thing".
i loaded the rifle but it was not moving at all, i was laing there in that stand off with the seal for maybe a minutte.
when it finaly moved it was to late, the seal was gone...
i was realy angry with my self but i comforted my self with knowing that i at least i was a safe hunter (it was no real comfort at the time).
i got to my post and sath there for what seamd like a eternety, then it showed up again this time he was a lot smarter,
he was maybe 350 feet out, but i was smarter too so i got down again, and this time i fired, i saw a big splash and that was the end of it i had missed my chanse again...
that night i was praying to god to give me another chance.
shorly, the next day i got up to that exacte same post.
seconds, minuttes and houres past.
when you sit there just stearing at the ocean for that long, your mind starts to play tricks on you,
so i got down again aiming at some waves that lookt "sucpicious" i were aimig like this for a cuple of minuttes, when i finaly lookt up i saw a head in the water about 300 feet out,
i sloly turned my rifle
wisseled at it one time that was enogh.
one shot, one seal
we found a exit wound at the back of its neck and a missing eye...
third time is the charm, right?
it was about 100 kilogram
another guy got one to... his were 120 kilogram
the whole of the school had "Phoca vitulina" for dinner a couple of weeks later
sorry for my English
Also known as Harbor Seal or Common seal...
I was attending a hunting and fishing school in Norway some years back.
My whole class was going seal-hunting at the west coast of Norway,
it took some time to get there and when we finaly got there the eximent grew as none of us had never hunted seal before, including our teacher.
We had a stratgy thoug, we would take the bout out to difrent islands and jump to shore and the boat would speed of.
you are probertly wondering why we would do that.
The seal is a very courius creature,
he would come up to see what the noise was about and then we would fire.
Sounds easy right?
Well we started out allright, we got in the boat an got of at the island.
It was as the seal was expekting us, i haddent gotten more than 70 feet towards my post as i saw somthing "dipping" in the surface.
At that time i had no ammo in my rifle, i got down using by back pack as a base for my rifle, aiming at the "thing" with my crosshair at the center of the "thing".
i loaded the rifle but it was not moving at all, i was laing there in that stand off with the seal for maybe a minutte.
when it finaly moved it was to late, the seal was gone...
i was realy angry with my self but i comforted my self with knowing that i at least i was a safe hunter (it was no real comfort at the time).
i got to my post and sath there for what seamd like a eternety, then it showed up again this time he was a lot smarter,
he was maybe 350 feet out, but i was smarter too so i got down again, and this time i fired, i saw a big splash and that was the end of it i had missed my chanse again...
that night i was praying to god to give me another chance.
shorly, the next day i got up to that exacte same post.
seconds, minuttes and houres past.
when you sit there just stearing at the ocean for that long, your mind starts to play tricks on you,
so i got down again aiming at some waves that lookt "sucpicious" i were aimig like this for a cuple of minuttes, when i finaly lookt up i saw a head in the water about 300 feet out,
i sloly turned my rifle
wisseled at it one time that was enogh.one shot, one seal
we found a exit wound at the back of its neck and a missing eye...
third time is the charm, right?
it was about 100 kilogram
another guy got one to... his were 120 kilogram
the whole of the school had "Phoca vitulina" for dinner a couple of weeks later
sorry for my English
FrontSight
New member
Bruno, that...was...awesome!! I wanna go seal hunting now!
BrunoNorway
New member
Scrap5000
yeah it realy feels good to bag a seal...
i have to warn you though, its a messy job with skinning them and all that.
they have atleast 2-3" of fat here in norway, this is difrent from place to place as they would have more if its colder and good food suplie.
the point is, if its 1" or 4", the fat will trancfere from the seal to you.
my wool-swether stil smells like seal (similar to fish smell) and have traces of seal blood on it...
is it legal to hunt seal in the us...
those who say seals are cute has not seen their teeth up close...
We also had another encouter with the wild in my class as we were deer hunting...
one of my class mates got to his post, as he sat down a Red deer doe came but he was not redy so she lived to be hunted another day.
30 min later he saw a male deer and as he raised his rifle it came charging towards him.
he shot the deer in thethrowt in self defence at 30 feet.
the only thing he saw in the scope was somthing brown...
We heard over the radio, with a wery cool voice " A deer has fallen"
this pics are the before and after...
It had 10 spikes on theanthlers and i think we got 70 kilograms of meat out of it...
Im refering to Red deer (Cervus elaphus).
yeah it realy feels good to bag a seal...
i have to warn you though, its a messy job with skinning them and all that.
they have atleast 2-3" of fat here in norway, this is difrent from place to place as they would have more if its colder and good food suplie.
the point is, if its 1" or 4", the fat will trancfere from the seal to you.
my wool-swether stil smells like seal (similar to fish smell) and have traces of seal blood on it...
is it legal to hunt seal in the us...
those who say seals are cute has not seen their teeth up close...
We also had another encouter with the wild in my class as we were deer hunting...
one of my class mates got to his post, as he sat down a Red deer doe came but he was not redy so she lived to be hunted another day.
30 min later he saw a male deer and as he raised his rifle it came charging towards him.
he shot the deer in the
throwt in self defence at 30 feet.the only thing he saw in the scope was somthing brown...
We heard over the radio, with a wery cool voice " A deer has fallen"
this pics are the before and after...
It had 10 spikes on the
anthlers and i think we got 70 kilograms of meat out of it...Im refering to Red deer (Cervus elaphus).
Attachments
davlandrum
New member
I need to go to a hunting and fishing school...
First deer
My first deer killed was when I was 15 I think. I was up in the stand with a Winchester 30-30. I had spent the entire weekend up there and it was the last day. About an hour ofter getting situated a nice doe came out about 50 yds away. She was about 130lbs or so.
Somehow, I remained calm, sighted in, and concentrated on everything I knew about making a good shot, breathing, trigger control, all of it...BOOM!
The shot couldn't have been any better. It went right through her left ear giving me a .3" hole to run my tag through, and into her brain stem dropping her on the spot. Didn't even jump. Dead before she hit the ground.
After that I waited about 5 mins or so before coming down, just in case a buck I didn't see was following her and decided to come out. Dummy I am, I didn't load another round.
I get to the ground, managed to get her in a fireman's carry to take her back to camp, when Mr. Buck stepped out of the bushes about 20yds up, looking at me. Looked at me for a solid three seconds too. I grabbed the rifle, and just as I was loading another one in the chamber he barked/grunted/mooed at me and took off like greased lightning. Almost had two that day if I had just reloaded and waited a bit longer.
My first deer killed was when I was 15 I think. I was up in the stand with a Winchester 30-30. I had spent the entire weekend up there and it was the last day. About an hour ofter getting situated a nice doe came out about 50 yds away. She was about 130lbs or so.
Somehow, I remained calm, sighted in, and concentrated on everything I knew about making a good shot, breathing, trigger control, all of it...BOOM!
The shot couldn't have been any better. It went right through her left ear giving me a .3" hole to run my tag through, and into her brain stem dropping her on the spot. Didn't even jump. Dead before she hit the ground.
After that I waited about 5 mins or so before coming down, just in case a buck I didn't see was following her and decided to come out. Dummy I am, I didn't load another round.
I get to the ground, managed to get her in a fireman's carry to take her back to camp, when Mr. Buck stepped out of the bushes about 20yds up, looking at me. Looked at me for a solid three seconds too. I grabbed the rifle, and just as I was loading another one in the chamber he barked/grunted/mooed at me and took off like greased lightning. Almost had two that day if I had just reloaded and waited a bit longer.
Lawyer Daggit
New member
I was out hunting pig in outback New South Wales about a decade ago. This involved a long 10-11 hour drive from home to the farm. Upon arrival we moved into the shearers quarters and put the guns away. Out came a few beers to settle the dust before going to bed.
After a couple of beers I popped outback to relieve myself peeing on a fence- I jumped out of my skin, having peed on an electric fence.
After a couple of beers I popped outback to relieve myself peeing on a fence- I jumped out of my skin, having peed on an electric fence.
74camaroman
New member
Sons first hunt
My son was 10 years old and he wanted to go deer hunting with dad. Dad had him shooting the 22 since he was 8 so why not. My buddy and me and my son left home and arrived at my buddies father in laws house to pick him up on Wednesday night. We always spent the night at his Father in laws house and head for our deer area first thing in the morning. That night, after dinner we were sitting around the kitchen table going over a map of the area and how we would look for fresh signs, at this time my son asks, "How do you tell fresh signs for deer in the area?" We explained how to identify doe tracks from bucks tracks, how to tell how old the tracks are, and beds and fresh scat. The fresh scat had my son with another question. " How do you tell fresh scat?" Having answered ten thousand questions from him so far, I told him that you take a little piece and touch it to your tongue, if it burns your tongue it is fresh. We arrived at our hunting camp about noon and first thing was to set up our kitchen and cover it from the rain or hail which always happened to arrive sometime after we arrived. Opening day was Saturday and we arrived on Thursday before opening day. We always use the afternoon on Thursday to set up camp and check out the areas to hunt for fresh signs of deer in the area. My son was on a deer trail about 25 feet below the trail I was on, when he said, " Dad!! I found some fresh deer sh&t" I then asked him how he knew it was fresh? He replied" cause it burns my tongue!
I didn't have the heart to tell him that that way was just something I made up until several years ago, figured he wouldn't hit an old man. He is now 36 years old. I'm not proud of what I told him but everytime I think back to that day I get a chuckle. He still love me.
My son was 10 years old and he wanted to go deer hunting with dad. Dad had him shooting the 22 since he was 8 so why not. My buddy and me and my son left home and arrived at my buddies father in laws house to pick him up on Wednesday night. We always spent the night at his Father in laws house and head for our deer area first thing in the morning. That night, after dinner we were sitting around the kitchen table going over a map of the area and how we would look for fresh signs, at this time my son asks, "How do you tell fresh signs for deer in the area?" We explained how to identify doe tracks from bucks tracks, how to tell how old the tracks are, and beds and fresh scat. The fresh scat had my son with another question. " How do you tell fresh scat?" Having answered ten thousand questions from him so far, I told him that you take a little piece and touch it to your tongue, if it burns your tongue it is fresh. We arrived at our hunting camp about noon and first thing was to set up our kitchen and cover it from the rain or hail which always happened to arrive sometime after we arrived. Opening day was Saturday and we arrived on Thursday before opening day. We always use the afternoon on Thursday to set up camp and check out the areas to hunt for fresh signs of deer in the area. My son was on a deer trail about 25 feet below the trail I was on, when he said, " Dad!! I found some fresh deer sh&t" I then asked him how he knew it was fresh? He replied" cause it burns my tongue!
I didn't have the heart to tell him that that way was just something I made up until several years ago, figured he wouldn't hit an old man. He is now 36 years old. I'm not proud of what I told him but everytime I think back to that day I get a chuckle. He still love me.