Any good hunting stories?

[CELTIC-PAGAN]

Let me star it off. IO got a few but this one was real cool.
This took place in Northern Maine in Cary Plantaion where we had built our cabin last year.


It was some where in mid october. The guy that sold me the land I built my cabin on , came by early in on the afternoon and asked if I wanted to shoot a big black bear that was in the area. Of course I said yes. He explained where it was, and that he had already been baiting it. Gary, the guy that is telling me about the bear, is a joker. He is prone to BS or exagerations, so I am reserved but eager. He gives me a bag of stale doughnuts, and tells me thier is a trashcan nailed to a pople tree down by the bog on the back part of his land.

I wait till about 3:30 get my browning 30-06 and the bag of doughnuts and I am off. Now, I am not actually thinking I am going to get this bear, if it exists at all. so I am looking at maybe getting some time in the woods and sitting on the stand that overlooks an old overgrown patatoe field.

In northern Maine, It gets dark early in the late fall, About 4:30 it's dark. So I make my way down an old skitter trail, and start getting into the wet rasberry bogs that are right before the ceder swamp that I am going to bait this bear at. As I am waltking I come across a bear print that was huge, the first sign that good old Gary might not been BSing after all. I check out this track and It seems fresh. I get a little anxious at tis point, but more excited. I proceed onward. towards the ceder swamp.

Bear are real smart, and very hard to hunt. the older bulls are even more so. I am thinking, because I am making alot of noise that this bear will be long gone.

I come to the end of the skitter trail and duck though some hemlock trees, from here to the bog it gets congested with all kinds of thick foliage. I dont know this land real well but well enough, I trek on. Still a little nervous about this bear. I start going in about twenty yards off the trail when A huge brown beast jumps up in front of me!. I cant see anything but abunch of movement and hear some crashing coming towards me. I see this dark mess coming right towards me and I fired my gun my rifle at it. As this happens I realize I really cant see much and I hope this thing dosent maul me. Before I know it, I fire off two shots at the Monster brown beast charging me, And then jump out of the way. Thinking I am about to be bear food I turn around and point the rifle up at what I think is a bear. To my surprise I see very large moose cow with a wound somewhere on her upper back. She then run/stumbles off.

I jump up immediatly and bring my rifle back on target and squeezed. She drops! At the same time, off on my periferee, I see movement. I turn to see a calf. Looked like was from that spring.

I turn the rifle towards the calf and notice that I am out of ammo. This thing is staying put, So I reachin to my jacket pocket and pull out the reserve shells. I pull out 8mm shells, and realize I screwed up. Having no ammo, I did the next best thing, I ran after this calf and tackled it! When doing so, this baby moose went into a mud hole, with me on top of it. What happened next was very painful. This moose began kicking me repeatedly in my right leg until I rolled off of it. It was still stuck in the mud , so I try to grab my knife to stab it. I started to grab my knife and the moose cleared itself from the mud, kick at me and ran into the brush.

Standing there freezing and covered in mud with a knife in my hand I know that I would not get that bastard right now, so I went to the downed cow. This thing was huge, way bigger than I imagined. I look at it and remember what some of the old ridge runners have told me about carving up moose. IT IS VERY HARD WITHOUT HELP.

I start making my intial cut and have to squint to see. I check for my flashlight and cant find it. I figured it must have gone into the mud with me and the calf. I am very cold and it is dark, I still proceed to gut this thing. I had to stick half my body up inside this thing to cut the wind pipe and guts off. Had to pull out a bladder that must have weighed 30 pounds and I try to pull the guts out. Of course I cant. They were too heavy and I was not wanting to break the stomach sack. I looked at the right ind quarter and started to carve it off. I get to the bone and used a hatchet I carry to hack the bone off. I do this and try to lift the leg. Too heavy, so I cut off the lower half of the leg and decide I can make it back.

It is totally dark and I am carrying a 100+ pound hind quarter to my camp. I walk all the way through the skitter road and stumbled into my camp, covered in blood and mud. My dogs (there is nine at the camp) freak out circle me and almost attak. My wife and friends see me and thing I was in some sort of horrible accident.

I take the hind quarter and place it in the wood shed, explain the situation to my two buds and recuit them to come help. I get a come along and some carving knives and a saw and start to head out. My friends follow after getting a pistol and a flash light. I am still cold and wet but Now I have help so it isnt that bad.

We make are way back down the skitter trail though the brush and over to the carcus, which happened to have a huge bear pawing at it. This bear took one look at us and did a fake charge. The next thing I know threeew grown men are running through the rasberry mud swamp stumbleing over each other in fear of our lives. We did not know if the bear was coming after us and headded for the easyiest way out, not the skitter road.

We ended up somewhat confused where we were headed as no one had brought a compass. To skits out to head back toward the bear, we headed in the direction we supposed we lived. Three hours of wandering in the dark we finally got home. Wide eyed and misserable we cleaned up and proceded to get real drunk.

That hind quarter fed us for all that month.

[Custer]

That's quite an adventure CP.

[Rew]

We were coming back after a day of no success. It was still light but not for much longer. The three of us were all on horse back. Kevin the lead guy had a buck tag and I spotted a buck walking away, yes walking. It was going up the side of the next hill. I pointed it out, only about 100 yards away and Kevin drew his rifle from the scabbard and fire from the back of the horse. That horse bolted like the devil was after it, Kevin came off the back but cradled the rifle (good thing to it was mine) I was laughing so hard I about fell off my horse. He got the Buck.

[Preacher]

Good story CP.

We have a Great Outdoors forum that has a Hunting section. Check out my thread called Funiest Hunting Story.

[Red Jacket Firearms]

Driving a tractor-trailer on I 10 in Texas , saw antlers poking up out of the ditch . I figured he was roadkill and I wanted antlers for knife handles so I pull over and grab my K-Bar . I walked back to the deer , coming up on him from behind I reach down and grab a antler . He wasn't dead . He jumped straight up and stared kicking the shit out of me . I started stabbing the shit out of him . I was to scared to let go , pissed as he was , he might not have just left. It went on like that for hours , or maybe a few seconds . I got into his wind pretty good and he seemed to be slowing down so I let go and jumped back . He went a few feet and fell over . Got to looking at him and one of his back legs was broke clean at the knee , I guess from a car . Amazing how tore up he got me with one good back leg. So there I was with a bleeding out deer somewhere between Van Horn and El Paso , covered in blood , deer shit and pretty much beat to hell . Somtime's you just got to say "Fuck it" , I opened him up , picked him up and shook him out and threw him in the reefer . Got to ElPaso , pulled into the truckwash and had a guy spray me and the damn deer down . I ended up draging that damn deer across the country for two weeks before I finaly got home. Picture every time I opened the trailer up at a dock.

[Preacher]

I ended up draging that damn deer across the country for two weeks before I finaly got home. Picture every time I opened the trailer up at a dock.

I'll bet that was some good eating.

[LockNLoad]

Mine isnt nearly as adventerous as celtic's but me n my dad (Raven) were squirrel huntin a few years back, he had a 22 pump and i had and old 20 guage, we had gotten 3 or 4 pretty early in the day, so we were just walkin when i saw a one jump from tree to tree, so i put up my shotty and peppered him, he started to fall, and about 3 feet down he grabbed a decent sized branch and just held on for dear life (though he was dead lol) so... i shot him again... and he just swang back n forth for a few seconds. so my dad took a shot at it with the 22 and nothin, so we decided to pass the 22 back n forth and take turns shootin off its front legs, after about 6 or 7 shots from about 60 feet under it he fell.... feet not included lol... was even able to pick the shot out n eat him... tryin to get him down was a bit of entertainment... and he tasted like chicken... doesnt get much better than that

[Raven]

I took a buddy...now x-buddy with me out to hunt dureing Buck season! I told him don't shoot a doe cause he'd be walking home if he did! He decided to stalk the abandoned rail-road track, ridge on one side and a large berm on the other. I told him if he droped a buck to fire 3 shots and I'd meet him with the truck. I set up in a low area on the ridge where 3 trails crossed. About a half hour later I hear a rifle shot, then another, then silence. 30 seconds later another and another. 30 seconds a pistol shot. Then I hear 3 pistol shots. I'm saying WTF...WWIII !!!!! I go to the truck drive down the railroad access road and nothing so I drive some more. My x-buddy pops up over the berm...I got one!!!!! Help me drag it !!! I walk thru the woods about a hundred yards and there lays a doe, F*UK, I TOLD YOU NO DOES!!!!!!!

Here's where it gets good, There is a bullett hole right between the eyes ????? He tells me what happened. He's walking the tracks and a deer runs by, he shoots from the hip, the deer goes down and gets up and starts running up the ridge with Dave in hot pursuit. The deer stumbles and falls, jumps up and turns runing down the ridge and right over Dave. All this time Dave ids ripping off shots and hitting thin air. Dave loses his rifle, and charges down the ridge after his deer. The deer falls down the burm, Dave falls down the berm. He tells me the deer kept falling but wouldn't stay down. Finnally the falls again and Dave whipps out his .38 and pops it in the head. Dead deer.

We drag it to the berm and I'm PISSED!!! I open it up and notice the deers rt front leg is missing at the first joint and is muddy but healed. I start looking it over to where Dave shot it the first time, the left rear leg is hanging at the knee and bloody and torn. My X friend shot a 3 legged deer in the leg. That's what all the falling down was about...dumb SOB!!! I get the gut pile to the side and tell Dave that good hunters like to examine the stomach contents to see what they eat so they know where to hunt where the right foods grow I tell Dave to get real close to the stomach ...get right up on it cause when I open it up there's only a few secounds when you can see it before it all spills all over and can't make it out anymore. He gets his right up there and I make a big slash and start walking away...QUICK!!! Poor Dave inhales and starts gaging and pukeing...serves him right!!! I make him drag it up the berm and load it into my truck and take him and his trophy( yea right) to his house and I go do some hunting!!! Now you know why I refer to him as my X-friend...

[AKaTom]

I decided to go squirrel at my favorite spot. Parked my jeep cj5 in a powerline right of way just outside the woods. Loaded a 10 round mag into my ruger 10-22 and right as i stepped into the woods chambered a round. I hadn't gone maybe 50 feet into the woods when I hear movement off to my left and slightly forward of where i'm standing. I figure I spooked a deer and didn't think much of it. Well a few seconds later I hear a much louder noise and look up just in time to see 3 dogs on a dead run "at me" The brush is pretty thick where I was standing and you can't see very far. So by the time I see the dogs they are maybe 50 feet away and closing fast. I didn't even have time to shoulder my rifle I clicked off the safety and opened fire at them from the hip. As the first shots rang out the dogs turned and are now running away but at an angle exposing them to broadside shots. One dog was hit and let out a yelp but continued running. I emptyied the 10 round mag and the dogs disappered. After it was over I was shaking so bad I had a hard time lighting a ciggarette and had to sit down and regain my composure. After I calmed down and reloaded my rifle I went to try and find the dog i'd hit but never did. All I found was a small amount of hair where the dog was initially hit.

I've had several encounters with dog packs while hunting but that was by far the worst.

[Winn R]

Dad spent most of his life as a young man in the southern end of the Appalachian Mountains. He told me he had never been lost. But there was one time when he got turned around for a couple of days.

So I didn't worry too much when late one afternoon archery hunting I realized that the creek I was following out was not the one that I had come in on. I shot a little doe, the weather was nice and I figured I'd find my way out in the morning.

I heard coyotes and realized they'd gotten into the gut pile.

Now, I knew they'd never bother me.

But that was one uncomfortable night I spent in that climber!