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Not So Great Hunting Moves

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musketman

Passed On
Joined
Jan 2, 2003
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Well, hunting season is all but over for the most of us...

What did you do that was funny, embarrassing and/or down right amazing that you are still alive...

Did you mistake a stump for a deer and keep crouched down in the snow for an hour waiting for it to move?

How about shooting at a "squirrel" only to have a hornet's nest fall at your feet?

Cross a river and fall through the ice?

Come on, spill the beans...

No one will laugh, outside of the 700+ members...
 
There was the time a 'friend' invited me to bowhunt from one of his homebrew tree-stands. A 1/2" thick plywood job about two feet long and 16" wide. The back had a "V" cut-out and the front had an "A" shaped piece made from metal electrical conduit pipe that hinged at either side and the point was supposed to dig into the tree. A rope held the cut-out tight against the tree. To keep it set you had to stand with your toes out over the edge. I stepped back a tad at one point and the whole contraption slid down about a foot. First and last time in a tree-stand. Can't nap, can't pee.

I understand the 'real' ones even allow you to sit down now.

Last season I was bowhunting in a drizzle and when it came time to quit I headed out to the car. I was unstringing my recurve (with an 'official' store-bought stringer, even) and it slipped on the wet limb just as I lifted the string out of the tip nock. BLAM! The 65# bow jumped out of my hand and the upper tip managed to catch me on the brow ridge just above my left eye. Knocked my glasses all askew and about to popped all the wax out of my ears from the klonk it gave me. Thought I had popped the lens out of my glasses, but when I took them off I could see the whole lens was red. Blood everywhere. So much that I couldn't see out of my left eye. I though I'd blinded myself for sure. Not a good feeling at all. Turned out to be just a 3/4" gash, but I was a bloody mess by the time I made it to my car.

Made a good, stealthy stalk up on a late-season buck (our muzzleloading was after regular season) and it turned out to be a bit dead from a gut-shot and stiff as a board. I even realized it before I tried to shoot.
 
Deer hunting in the 60's and another hunter, a drunk, stopped us and showed and told us about the climbing stands Stumpkiller mentions. Being the handy type I built one and then used it in a stand of red oaks. Round here the red oaks resemble telephone poles. Before daylight I put the stand on a red oak and jacked it up a few feet, then as I sat there I decided to move up a little, after several repeats the sun came up and I found my self between 20 and 30 feet in the air up a red oak that was swaying in the wind. I nearly peed my pants.

Loved that climbing stand, but was more carefull after that.
 
Nov 2, 1999. I had already bag my deer and now supervising my two sons and one daughter. I placed my 14 year old daughter in a stand and told her to stay put until I return.
After placing my sons in their stands, I was returning to check on daughter when here she came a walking. Wanted to sit in my nephew stand, one of those self standing tripods with a swivel seat. This was sunday morning and I was in a hurry. Now I always taught my kids to load the gun only after seated in the stand and with the saftey straps on and to unload the gun before attempting to leave the stand. But I was in a hurry that morning so I reloaded the shotgun, throught if we encounter a deer on the way to the stand she would at lease get a shot. Well did not see a deer. Reached the nephew stand and daughter climb up into the seat. I then climb a few steps handed her the gun and begun to climb down. Boom!
Not sure which one of us pulled that trigger, but I got a 20 gauge slug between the right hand fingers. Third and forth finger half gone, pinkey finger bent due to joint trauma.
 
About three or nine years ago i was siting in a ground blind when a big deer came into an opening,my CVA 50 cal cap lock has a doubble set triger that is real light. While lineing the rifle I tryed to put my finger on the triger with my gloves on,sent a warning shot over his back. Rocky /ubbthreads/images/graemlins/wink.gif
 
While hunting back in 1994,in a homemade portable stand,went to stand up at the end of the night,the stand broke,down I went...2 days in intensive care,7 days in the hospital and a whole lot of therapy. I still feel it every day. Now all the stands that I hunt out of are ladder stands and I make them myself. There has to be something between me and the ground other than air.....
 
When Meecheegan furst allowed tree stands for archery I was bringin up 4 young ones the baker tree stand was the hottest thing goin not havin the money i designed and built my own climber tested it out several times design and function was perfect I decided to show my newly aquired brother in law how it worked so i chose a rough barked wild cherry tree about 15 in in diameter ya had to hug the tree and pull your legs up then dig the spikes in and go some more sorta like an inchworm only vertical. about fifteen feet up it slipped i ascended at a rapid rate leavin pieces of me stuck to the bark of that tree I was almost solid scabs from both forearms to the armpits and most of my chest two days later I couldn't bend my arms so I went to the doctor after explainin whut happened and the wiseass quit laffin he poured soap on my hurtin hide and scrubbed me removin bark scabs and any humor i found in the situation after healin up i returned to the same tree and cut it fur firewood made me feel bettter :redface:
weasel
 
Deer hunting several years ago with a new Remington 760 pump/.35Rem across my lap...barely after first light a couple Does came trotting along out in front and I dropped one in sight of the treestand.

It was so early, and keeping my eyes peeled in case a Buck might be in the area, I stayed put and very, very slowly, quietly eased the action back, let the case drop in my hand to save it for reloading, and very quietly cycled the action back closed, slipped the safety back on, etc.

I sat the stand until late morning, climbed down, dragged the Doe to the truck, cycled the action open to unload the rifle and found that the chamber was empty!!

I had inadvertently short cycled the action after dropping the Doe...so the bolt didn't get back far enough to get behind the cartridge stack in the clip...it couldn't strip off another cartridge when I eased it back forward...and I had sat on that stand for 3 hours with an empty rifle !!

The only good thing is that the buck of a lifetime didn't show himself for a few seconds while I was holding that empty rifle...I still chuckle about it.

A couple years later I shot a six pointer with that pump, and saving a cartridge case be damned, I cycled that pump back so hard it ejected the empty 20 feet off to the side!
 
'Bout 15 years ago I was tryin' to break in a new huntin' friend to the fun and relaxation of bowhunting. I took him out, gave him one of my best areas by an ol' blowdown cottonwood. Got him situated and told him I'd be back at about 10:30 AM. I went over to another area and set up. After an uneventful morning I headed back toward my friend. When I got there he was gone. Probabaly out looking around, I figured. Best to just set a spell and wait for him to return. I waited for some time, then heard a noise behind me. I figured it was my friend sneakin' up on me to give me a scare. I just sat there, not moving, pretendin' I didn't hear him. I was gonna scare the daylights outa him when he got a little closer. When the time was right I turned real fast, jumped up wavin' my arms and hollared "What the heck are ya tryin' ta do!" About that time a 10 pointer went straight inta the air and came down a runnin' as fast as he could. Left me standin' there with my bow on the log and a confused look (I'm sure) on my face. Ta make matters worse, my friend was sittin' about sixty yards away and saw the whole thing. I hadn't noticed him there. He wanted to know what kind of method I was tryin' ta use. :eek:
 
While bow hunting in Maryland during 1987 in a new area. I climbed in my (portable)treestand approximately 30yds from a pond at around 5:00am. By about 9:45am having seen nothing move all morning climbed down only to discover that a Beaver had chewed the tree to about half its size at the base. :shocking: About 11:00am the same day under shot a huge Fallow deer. 1:30pm my buddy stuck a white 8pt whitetail. About 10 min after he shot it 2 guys from another party jumped the buck and chased it onto a private farm. Never saw that place again. Too much bad Luck for One day. :redface: :boohoo: lots learned in 1 day also.
 
I shared this story before, but for the new members I'll retell it...

I was hunting deer with a cold and my nose was plugged solid (sniff), I had my nasil spray in my hunting coat's pocket...

Well, the time came to breathe again, so I grabbed the spray out of my pocket and used it without giving it too much thought...

AGGGH! I just sprayed a heaping dose of "doe-in-heat" buck lure up into my nose, let me tell you what, it burned somethin' powerful... ::

I was trying to shove snow up my nose to wash it out, I could feel my eyed turning bloodshot... ::

My eyes swelled shut and my brothers had to walk me out of the woods, laughing all the way to the truck... :haha:
 
I was out hunting with my 54Cal.St.Louis Hawken.Watch a Buck coming my way for about an hour,shot he falls off a cliff,I can see him laying down there.I climb down to him took about half a hour.His head is laying up under him,I grab hold of an Antler pull his head out ,he winks, :shocking: Here I am with an emty Rifle and a live Deer,he gets up drags my sorry butt through the brush :: I let go never did find him.After that time I always reloaded.

oneshot
 
I knew this kid in high school who'd moved out from the city. He took his 3 hr course and us two 14 yr olds would go out behind my house hunting pheasants and rabbits. I swear he never killed anything, only wounded it and he learned to cycle his Mossberg 16 ga. bolt action right after he fired. Not a bad habit in itself but he'd finish off small game with his buttstock no matter how many times I told him he was going to blow his head off that way. One day it went off, didn't hit him but cut his hair. Never hunted with him after that.
 
Well Musketman, I'll bet it cleaned out your sinuses though, didn't it?

Ever see a possum playing possum when you're hunting? I did once, picked the little SOB up by the tail holding my 12 ga. Ithaca sxs up to him (her? I didn't look) like the dumb animal knew what that meant.

All that possum did was stay curled up like rigor mortis had set in except baring his sharp little teeth. Bout then I'm thinking he's either gonna call my bluff or I'm gonna get my hand chewed up before I blow it off my arm. I just did a little turn and let go so he'd land a ways away from me. Made up my mind that I'd make sure not to play with no wild animals from then on.
 
One of my best friends and I were pheasant hunting a marsh. We were following the dog. His pointer went across this little creek which was only about three feet deep and 8 feet wide.

The dog was about 50 yards the other side of the creek, when his pointer locked up tighter then a tick on something in the marsh grass. My buddy said he was crossing the creek and I should go down wind in case if flushes early. That way one of us might get a shot.

There was a maple that was next to the bank with a limb hanging out over the creek, so he unloaded his shotgun, handed it to me, said he was going to swing across the creek on that limb, then I could throw him his empty gun. I told him he was nuts to try the Tarzan routine but then who am I to doubt someone.

He jumps up grabs the limb starts to swing and makes some smart commment about his ability just as the limb snapped. Needless to say he went flat out in the creek. I was concerned that he might have landed on something in the water and injured himself, but he stood up not looking happy. I was laughing so hard I thought I would puke.

He grabbed his shotgun, growled out some remark about "real funny" which only set me off even more. Crossed the creek, reloaded, and walked up to the dog. He gave the dog the forward easy command and out ran the biggest cottentail rabbit I ever saw. He fired three times but missed :: . I would have shot but was still wiping the tears out of my eyes from laughing. Needless to say we did not hunt much longer that day...

The following weekend we hunted the same marsh and when we came to that same spot I asked him if he wanted me to hold his gun and he called me a rather fowl name ::. I never could figure out what I said that day.. ::
 
Another classic was a buddy Pete and I were duck hunting. Pete lived for duck hunting, and Pete had one of the biggest, meanest, but best retreiving black labradors I had ever seen. "Sparky" was a master at retreiving even in bad situations. Sparky's only fault was he was a one person dog. When you hunted with Pete you did not pet Sparky, or command Sparky, and never reach into the blind and pick up a duck or anything that belonged to Pete or you would get nailed by Sparky. Yet as long as you did not encroach on the dog or the property of Pete the dog was very easy to control. Sparky was well trained, just not friendly...

By late afternoon we had shot a number of ducks and was headed back in the boat. Almost to the landing a warden comes up to check our license and ducks.

We beached the boat and I had gotten out. The warden checked me and my shotgun and then approached Pete. Peter immediately told the warden to be careful of the dog. The warden looked at Sparkey and told him he was a good dog and reached into the boat to pet him. That's when all you know what broke loose. Sparkey true to form lunged at the warden. Pete had a grip on him so he would not reach the warden. The warden reacted by jumping back out of the way of Sparkey and his teeth, tripped on the anchor rope and fell flat on his keister in the edge of the water. Needless to say I had the same reaction to an officer of the law falling into the drink as anyone else. I started laughing. The warden began yelling at us about the :curse: :curse: dog, and told me to grab the ducks so I could check them. I refused. He then ordered me to. Again I refused and told him the dog was Pete's and would not allow it.

Anyway he checked over every part of the boat, our gear, license, took the duck's temperature, anything for a violation. There was none. As he stormed off I figured the best thing was to be kind and suggested he have a nice day... ::
 
Well Musketman, I'll bet it cleaned out your sinuses though, didn't it?

Ever see a possum playing possum when you're hunting?

It did, I could smell the deers in the woods for a good three months... That image (smell) was burned into my memory banks for decades to come...

I also seen a 'possum playing possum...

That's why I like the long barreled muzzleloaders, it gives you a longer ramrod to poke things with... :winking: :haha:

There's nothing worse than a charging 'possum! ::

"Except for maybe that time I worked at a worm farm raising night crawlers for a bait shop, I was one of their branders...

One day, a bird landed in the worm holding pin and caused a stampede...

I was a mere 2 feet away from the charging mass of invertebrates, 85 minutes of pandemonium as they inched their way closer to my quivering body...

To this day, I can't eat chicken and noodles because of that" :bull: :haha: :winking:
 
This story is not really funny but a lesson in shooting safety.
I was out jump shooting ducks on old farm tanks in Texas a few years back when me and my buddy spotted a good size flock of gadwalls on a tank.
We split up so he could flush the ducks to me for a shot since we took turns jumping and shooting with each other.
My buddy got duck fever all of the sudden when the birds jumped and he opened fire on them...AND ME!
I got nailed dead on from about 40 yards with a stout load of #1 steel shot out of a 3" 12ga magnum!
Luckily for me I had my shotgun shouldered and it deflected a good amount of the shot.
I was hit in the hand which left a good gouge.
One perfectly placed BB went into my face just under my right eye where it still resides today.
There is another BB embedded in my shotgun sling and a couple still floating around in the coat I was wearing.
The funny part came when I went to the ER to get checked out and when they heard I was shot all hell broke loose.
They rushed me into a trauma room and started to cut my clothes off, luckily I was able to disrobe myself so my clothes weren't cut up.
They took X-rays of me head to toe, stuck an IV in me and gave me a tetanus shot.
After all of that I left the hospital with a band aid on my cheek and I went back to hunting.

Huntin
 
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