Have you ever been in a bad situation while hunting? Gotten sick, hurt, hypothermia, animal danger, lost, fell, etc.? If so, would you mind to share your story?
Dangerous hunting sitituations?
- Thread starter okie archer
- Start date
this should be a good thread, nice post. Several years ago I was on a late cow elk hunt with an old friend from high school, it was late November and he had brought his pop up camper. we both tagged out that first morning, he was in a hurry to get home even though we both took the week off from work, I wasn't about to go home. he took off that afternoon to return a few days later to pick me and the camper up. that evening the winds changed and rain moved in quickly changing to snow, the temps dropped so damn fast and I couldn't for the life of me stay warm. I couldn't get the heater in the camper or anything else to kick on and building a fire outside just wasn't possible. I had plenty of cold weather gear with me but I just couldn't get warm, I started feeling sick and weak. I threw some hand warmers into my sleeping bag and threw extra sleeping bags on top of me and still couldn't shake the cold from my bones. no cell phone service so I just hunkered down hoping for the best. unable to sleep I laid there with a puke bucket next to me, I was miserable and scared. about 2am I hear a truck working its way through the 5 inches of fresh wet snow that had frozen hard and I remember thinking who is crazy enough to be out driving in this crap. then the head lights peek though the window as it pulled into camp, next thing I know, my dad opens the door and said lets get the hell out of here. that crazy old man had a feeling things weren't right and threw on the chains and came to get me. sometimes crap just happens that we cant prevent. as much as I love solo hunting, there is comfort in having someone along for the just incase things.
Duck hunt the Platte here in Nebraska. It's known for being an inch deep, and a mile wide...but there are holes / deep spots. A few stories from our adventures:
I was not there, but my Dad tells story of putting out decoys one cold November morning. One in the party was down river setting out decoys...Dad looked his way and he was GONE! They quickly scrambled to get the john boat, and noticed him pop up out of the water. He had stepped in a hole and went under. They got to him quickly and tried pulling him in the boat...he refused. I was standing on his shotgun(!) He dipped down, picked up the gun, and scurried in the boat. They rowed him back to shore, where he walked directly to his truck, got in, and drove home (didn't even take off his waders). Pretty scary, but in the end he was okay.
I've hunted the Platte by myself many times, especially in college. I remember trying to cross the river one cold morning, holding my Rem 1100 above my head...slowly shuffling my feet, looking for drop offs, holes...water about two inches from top of my chest waders. Then it hit me...this was NOT a good idea. I turned around, found another place to hunt...then ordered a PDF from Cabela's later that week.
I was not there, but my Dad tells story of putting out decoys one cold November morning. One in the party was down river setting out decoys...Dad looked his way and he was GONE! They quickly scrambled to get the john boat, and noticed him pop up out of the water. He had stepped in a hole and went under. They got to him quickly and tried pulling him in the boat...he refused. I was standing on his shotgun(!) He dipped down, picked up the gun, and scurried in the boat. They rowed him back to shore, where he walked directly to his truck, got in, and drove home (didn't even take off his waders). Pretty scary, but in the end he was okay.
I've hunted the Platte by myself many times, especially in college. I remember trying to cross the river one cold morning, holding my Rem 1100 above my head...slowly shuffling my feet, looking for drop offs, holes...water about two inches from top of my chest waders. Then it hit me...this was NOT a good idea. I turned around, found another place to hunt...then ordered a PDF from Cabela's later that week.
I was walking in along a river bottom in the dark to setup an ambush on some deer during archery season. I got just about to where I wanted and I heard a pretty good noise, I really didn't want to turn on my head lamp, but something told me I probably better. When I turned it on about 40 yards up the bank there is 2 sets of eyes looking back at me, they climb up their own tree, I thought good deal just coons. Then just as I was about to turn the light off another set pokes over the hill, then it goes from ground level to 5'tall right now, and it's snapping it's teeth. Yep, black bear sow with cubs. She walked me backwards for over a half mile fake charging, snapping her teeth the whole way. Honestly I don't know how I didn't fertilize myself.
Colorado Cowboy
Super Moderator
My family used to hunt geese in northern California at Tule Lake. It is a huge sink that used to be a lake. The ground is very fine silt and it makes great farmland. There is a large federal waterfowl refuge there and some great hunting as it is on a major migration route.
There is a public hunting area next to the refuge and the geese fly out of the refuge on their way to feeding areas in the farmers fields. We were lined up and getting some good pass shooting. This particular hunt was in November and it was really cold, well below freezing. Back in the 50's the only really cold weather gear available was military surplus. I was wearing some surplus Air Force gear, Sheepskin bibs, heavy sheepskin jacket and sheepskin boot covers. I shot a goose and went to retrieve it (we didn't have a dog back then). I stepped over a small canal and slipped on the far bank and instantly I was in water up to my arm pits. It was a silty, soft bottom and I couldn't get out. The freezing water was seeping into my clothes and I was sinking deeper. My Dad and Uncle eventually got me out. I was a muddy, stinking mess of frozen water and mud. I started shaking couldn't hardly talk. We eventually got all the cold weather stuff off and got me back to the truck and started the heater. Luckily we scrounged up some wood fence posts and brush and got a fire going. Seemed to me that I was never going to get warm!
I was lucky that I had other people with me. If I had been alone, I probably would never made it.
There is a public hunting area next to the refuge and the geese fly out of the refuge on their way to feeding areas in the farmers fields. We were lined up and getting some good pass shooting. This particular hunt was in November and it was really cold, well below freezing. Back in the 50's the only really cold weather gear available was military surplus. I was wearing some surplus Air Force gear, Sheepskin bibs, heavy sheepskin jacket and sheepskin boot covers. I shot a goose and went to retrieve it (we didn't have a dog back then). I stepped over a small canal and slipped on the far bank and instantly I was in water up to my arm pits. It was a silty, soft bottom and I couldn't get out. The freezing water was seeping into my clothes and I was sinking deeper. My Dad and Uncle eventually got me out. I was a muddy, stinking mess of frozen water and mud. I started shaking couldn't hardly talk. We eventually got all the cold weather stuff off and got me back to the truck and started the heater. Luckily we scrounged up some wood fence posts and brush and got a fire going. Seemed to me that I was never going to get warm!
I was lucky that I had other people with me. If I had been alone, I probably would never made it.
Never in Doubt
Active Member
- Jul 9, 2012
- 304
- 0
Once I was hiking back to camp after dark with a buck tied down on my pack when the head somehow came untied on one side and swung around and the tip of an antler hit me hard just below my eye and on my lip. I was bleeding pretty good but it just missed my eye. It could have put out my eye quite easily. I was alone and 5 miles from the nearest road. Learned a valuable lesson that day.
Buddy told story of blacktail deer hunting on Kodiak hunting. Since Brown Bear / Grizzly are so plentiful, you don't even leave the cabin until after sunrise, carry 44 MAG with you everywhere, and are back at camp/cabin before dark.
He hunted hard that day and knocked down two deer. As he was dragging them down the trail towards cabin, he heard rustling in the woods...then a Griz stepped out on the trail ahead of him.
Stopping, he drew his 44 and fired two shots over the bear's head, hoping it would scare off. Said he didn't want to shoot it, for fear of missing vital organs and pissing the bear off. The bear reared up, then walked in to the woods, circling around and appearing on trail behind him.
Buddy carefully unwrapped his hands from the rope that he was using to drag the deer with.
The bear fake-charged two times as buddy slowly stepped away from the deer. Then the bear grabbed the two deer and vanished in to the woods. Whew!
Back at the cabin he told the story to his party...and they immediately called BS (he was known to stretch the truth
)
Buddy said he pulled two deer livers from his backpack, held them up, and said, "well, explain where I got these...bitches!"
He hunted hard that day and knocked down two deer. As he was dragging them down the trail towards cabin, he heard rustling in the woods...then a Griz stepped out on the trail ahead of him.
Stopping, he drew his 44 and fired two shots over the bear's head, hoping it would scare off. Said he didn't want to shoot it, for fear of missing vital organs and pissing the bear off. The bear reared up, then walked in to the woods, circling around and appearing on trail behind him.
Buddy carefully unwrapped his hands from the rope that he was using to drag the deer with.
The bear fake-charged two times as buddy slowly stepped away from the deer. Then the bear grabbed the two deer and vanished in to the woods. Whew!
Back at the cabin he told the story to his party...and they immediately called BS (he was known to stretch the truth
)Buddy said he pulled two deer livers from his backpack, held them up, and said, "well, explain where I got these...bitches!"
Dark Mavis
Active Member
Cotton kills and weather changes quick on the mountain. Left elk camp one afternoon in sunny 70 degree weather with nothing but a light base layer and a cotton sweat shirt. Well, you know what happens next. Blizzard rolls in an hour before dark and I nearly freeze my bits off. White out conditions and 40 mph winds. Shivering so uncontrollably I couldn't have hit an elk at 20 yards. Hands had quit working and could barely move my mouth to talk.
Lesson learned the hard way. Ive since upgraded to wool base and mid layers and I always keep a layer of rain gear in my pack.
Lesson learned the hard way. Ive since upgraded to wool base and mid layers and I always keep a layer of rain gear in my pack.
MtnBuck
Member
Nothing too crazy.
I was sitting in a blind for hours up until dark waiting for Elk to appear. Hi-altitude in Colorado. The temp was in the 30's as I recall. The last 20 minutes I was really starting to shiver, but wasn't too concerned as I was wearing long johns and always get warmed up once I start moving. At last light I packed up and started the hike back to camp. It was mostly downhill.
After 5 minutes of walking I was shivering more than ever so I picked up the pace. I knew I was hypothermic so started moving even faster until I was almost at a run. I was really surprised that I couldn't stop shivering even though I was completely dry and moving fast. I thought about stopping and starting a fire, but camp wasn't all that far so I pressed on.
By the time I made it back to camp I could tell that my mind was becoming a little foggy. I threw on a few more layers and stood by the fire my buds had going. Still shivering like mad. After a few minutes the guys in camp started make wise cracks that if I got any closer to the fire I would burst into flames. lol.
I was sitting in a blind for hours up until dark waiting for Elk to appear. Hi-altitude in Colorado. The temp was in the 30's as I recall. The last 20 minutes I was really starting to shiver, but wasn't too concerned as I was wearing long johns and always get warmed up once I start moving. At last light I packed up and started the hike back to camp. It was mostly downhill.
After 5 minutes of walking I was shivering more than ever so I picked up the pace. I knew I was hypothermic so started moving even faster until I was almost at a run. I was really surprised that I couldn't stop shivering even though I was completely dry and moving fast. I thought about stopping and starting a fire, but camp wasn't all that far so I pressed on.
By the time I made it back to camp I could tell that my mind was becoming a little foggy. I threw on a few more layers and stood by the fire my buds had going. Still shivering like mad. After a few minutes the guys in camp started make wise cracks that if I got any closer to the fire I would burst into flames. lol.
theleo91386
Member
- Apr 20, 2016
- 74
- 0
I had a late October /early November elk tag when I was 18 in Idaho . I had the opening week to hunt it with my dad and then had to get back to school. Pretty much the entire week had been blue skies and 60 degree weather. Warm enough that I was pretty uncomfortable in my wool clothes but that's all I had for hunting. With about three days left one of my dad's friends came in and we were to take a long day and get something on the ground. The day started out like the rest, crisp with clear skies. We got on the horses before shooting light and headed to a spot to glass. We found a couple of bulls and got within range but we decided to pass. So at around 10:00 AM we got back on the horses and headed up the country. We got to the upper camp around 1:00 and stopped to BS and grab a bite to eat. By that time a few clouds rolled in but nothing ominous and it was still in the low 60's to upper 50's for temps. We got back on the horses at around 2:00 and headed to a hell hole that always holds elk but is used as a last resort. We got to the top of the canyon around 4:00, the temps were getting cooler and the clouds were getting darker but we had elk in front of us so none of us really cared. I ended up shooting a decent 5 x 5 just before dark and it had started spitting snow. By the time it was gutted out all three of us had to use headlights because it was dark and the snow was coming down steadier. We got back on the animals and headed to the trail head. By the end of that 5 hour ride there was about 5-7 inches of wet, heavy, snow on the ground. When we got to the trail head it was the only time I can ever remember having to actually see to unsadle my ride. I had lost all feelings in my hands and was absolutely soaked from the snow. Another hour of having to ride through that stuff and hypothermia would have been a real threat. Now my oil skin duster and chaps live on my saddle regardless of the weather. At least I had on wool and poly pro bottoms but the cotton T-shirt next to my skin was a bad thing. I faired better than my dad and his friend. They both had on Levis and my dad at least had on poly pro bottoms underneath his, his friend didn't. It's the coldest my dad and I have experienced in our lives. It was a great example of what the weather will do in the mountains. When we woke up the next day there was an extra 3 inches of snow on the ground and we made the 4 hour round trip to town to go buy some wool pants to replace the ones my dad left in camp.
Two days later we rolled a mule off the side of a hill at 1:00 AM when she started bucking because her pack slid, but that's more of just a packing thing than hunting.
I've had animals blowup a number of times since then and found myself in places I shouldn't have gone but that ride was the most dangerous situation I've been in while in the mountains. I have no problem skiing in a blizzard during the winter (I actually enjoy it) but 30 degrees with wet, heavy, snow coming down and being stuck on top of a mule for hours is the coldest, most miserable, and dangerous experience I've had.
Two days later we rolled a mule off the side of a hill at 1:00 AM when she started bucking because her pack slid, but that's more of just a packing thing than hunting.
I've had animals blowup a number of times since then and found myself in places I shouldn't have gone but that ride was the most dangerous situation I've been in while in the mountains. I have no problem skiing in a blizzard during the winter (I actually enjoy it) but 30 degrees with wet, heavy, snow coming down and being stuck on top of a mule for hours is the coldest, most miserable, and dangerous experience I've had.
Colorado T
Active Member
I wasn't old enough to hunt big game in Colorado at the time (you had to be 14 then) so my dad and mom took me to Alaska on a caribou hunt. We arrived in Alaska and were met by our guide who took us to get our licenses and said the weather was moving in and wanted to get us into camp as soon as possible. We loaded into the plane and took off for camp through a narrow pass in the Alaskan range. The clouds were getting lower and by the time we were into the pass the clouds had dropped significantly and the mountains on each side of us started to disappear. I remember thinking there was no way he know where the mountains are and about that time the plane hit an air pocket and we dropped straight down for what seemed like forever. After a death grip on the seat in front of me we finally made it to camp and I will never forget the look on my moms face once we made it. We were unloading the plane and overheard on the radio that they had just closed the pass we flew through and would be sending a search and rescue team in once the weather cleared to locate a plane that had crashed right behind us. We were pretty shook up but managed to put that behind us and scored on three good bulls, my first big game animal which missed B&C by 5 points.
I was spring bear hunting here in idaho about 8 years ago. Myself and 4 other guys let the dogs out on my bait stand at daybreak and took off up the side of the mt. We were chasing what turned out to be a 6 and a half foot cinnamon for what seemed like ten miles. Well at about the 3rd draw a Hispanic fellow popped up out of the brick brush out of no where. Didn't speak a lick of English just pointed up the hill to where the dogs where barking. One of the guys made the joke that that guy was probably up there growing pot. So we finally treed the beer at the top of the ridge and shot it. After cleaning it and packing it with snow we left to come back the next morning. By this time it was pushing 90 degrees and all we had left to drink was snow. There was a creek at the head of the drainage so we made our way down. We were so hot, dehydrated and obvious that we just flopped face first into the creek. When I looked up there irrigation pipe and about 5k dixie cups with little itty-bitty pot plants growing. I've never run so fast in my life as those couple miles back to the trail head. The next day I had to take a forest service Ranger back with me to get my bear. Needless to say it could have been ugly. Especially considering I only had a bow and a couple arrows left.
Damn! I'm glad that worked out for you, that could've gotten ugly. I hope they destroyed every last plant. keep the stories coming fellas
tim
Veteran member
I have not had any life or death expierence hunting, but I have caused close to 20 avalanches, been pinned in a class v creek, stuff like that. most of my close calls have been with adrenaline sports.
Umpqua Hunter
Veteran member
I killed my Yukon grizzly at less than 70 feet from the fly of my tent after I heard him breathing circling my two man dome tent, does that count?
dan maule
Veteran member
While hunting in the Frank Church I killed Deer in the middle of a large burn. There were lots and lots dead trees standing everywhere. After a little celebration and some picture taking we started to debone the deer when out of nowhere a storm kicks up with very strong winds. One by one trees start to fall all around us, we were totally helpless. Obviously we made it out of there fine but it was probably the most helpless I have ever felt in my life and I left there with a tremendous respect for Mother Nature.
2012 OR Mule deer. We put down 2 nice bucks in the mid afternoon. We were about 4 miles from the trail head that was uphill from us. We cleaned and prepped the deer, and headed toward camp which was about half way to the trail head. Now is when the bad decision making starts. We examined the maps, and convinced ourselves we could hike uphill from a lower trail head and be able to pack heavy downhill. We packed all of our gear out that night, and headed down to the lower trail head at about midnight. We left the trail head about 2 hrs before daylight with high hopes. We had sorely misjudged the time and distance to get to the bucks. It took us 6 hrs to get there, and we were completely out of water. We were not in mountain shape, because we didn't really understand what that meant until this day. The perspiration had quit hrs ago, and I was getting very lightheaded. We packed up the deer and had to make an aggressive decent of about 3000ft of extremely steep country to get to water. We made it back to the truck after 18hrs on our feet. I learned a lot about settling down and thinking things through. I also learned about these wonderful packs that you can hunt and pack with. We were still using day gear and frame packs back then. I think that was a GIF moment for sure. I always have food and water. I never go anywhere without my tarp, rain gear, and my water filter. I have committed to never let my lack of judgement and lack of conditioning get me in kind of trouble again. It is OK for bad things to happen, as long as you have gear and a calm head to deal with it.
Prerylyon
Veteran member
Where 2 start? This may seem "lame" by Rocky Mtn standards, but I was scared and seriously hypothermic.
Back in 2001, I was 28 and living back east in Maryland. I had a cracker jack yearling english setter pup and was a keen upland bird hunter.
On some Saturday morning in December, I left my family in the foothills west of Baltimore for the 2 hr ride to Dan's Mtn in western Maryland in the Allegheny mtns of the Appalachians. It was cloudy @ home. Light rain was predicted. Elevation @ home was 600'. Elevation at Dan's mtn was 2,800. No, its not mile high, but on the east coast in early winter, its a differentiator.
Weather got worse as we drove west. By the time I arrived late morning, the mtns were in in a misty, cold, raw drizzle.
Eager to hunt, we set out out on a tip from some friends to work the grapevine thickets for ruffed grouse. Time passed quickly as we got into birds. Unable to connect a shot in a rugged country doubly robed in mist and briars, we lost track of time. We lost track of space. The wind shifted and soon the mist was no longer condensing us in droplets of water; instead, my tin cloth coat grew heavy with ice.
In the rush to hunt I left my compass in the car. I left my Magellan gps. It was large and bulky back in 2001.
The afternoon grew dark. 1st grey, then velvety black. Days are short in Dexember. We were lost. In the freezing mist, in that clearcut on that mountain, there was no north. There was no east, south, or west. I was cold and getting colder.
It all looked the same. We walked to the parking area, except it wasn' there. We walked in circles to no.avail. The mist was now a steady light snow.
My watch showed 5pm. I was soaked and cold. My dog was soaked and cold. We shivered. We were tired. We were shivering.
Bewildered and disoriented, I shot out 3x, hoping to get a response. Besides the echo of my sos-there was dead silence. I was never so scared as to feel the need to take these sos shots prior or since.
I cuddled my dog for warmth and prayed. I got enough sense to walk a str8 line to the WMA boundary. Once we got there, we followed the perimeter to the parking area. The sight of the car was a miracle. In a steady snow, we drove home wet and soaked to Finksburg. By Hagerstown the snow gave way to rain on I-70
I called my wife and relayed enough of my plight coherently that she had warm soup and drawn a warm tub when I staggered in past 9:30pm.
Hypothernia is not something to mess with. I nearly collapsed as I walked in.
Moral: take map, compass, gps- and know how to use them!
Sent from my SAMSUNG-SGH-I337Z using Tapatalk
Back in 2001, I was 28 and living back east in Maryland. I had a cracker jack yearling english setter pup and was a keen upland bird hunter.
On some Saturday morning in December, I left my family in the foothills west of Baltimore for the 2 hr ride to Dan's Mtn in western Maryland in the Allegheny mtns of the Appalachians. It was cloudy @ home. Light rain was predicted. Elevation @ home was 600'. Elevation at Dan's mtn was 2,800. No, its not mile high, but on the east coast in early winter, its a differentiator.
Weather got worse as we drove west. By the time I arrived late morning, the mtns were in in a misty, cold, raw drizzle.
Eager to hunt, we set out out on a tip from some friends to work the grapevine thickets for ruffed grouse. Time passed quickly as we got into birds. Unable to connect a shot in a rugged country doubly robed in mist and briars, we lost track of time. We lost track of space. The wind shifted and soon the mist was no longer condensing us in droplets of water; instead, my tin cloth coat grew heavy with ice.
In the rush to hunt I left my compass in the car. I left my Magellan gps. It was large and bulky back in 2001.
The afternoon grew dark. 1st grey, then velvety black. Days are short in Dexember. We were lost. In the freezing mist, in that clearcut on that mountain, there was no north. There was no east, south, or west. I was cold and getting colder.
It all looked the same. We walked to the parking area, except it wasn' there. We walked in circles to no.avail. The mist was now a steady light snow.
My watch showed 5pm. I was soaked and cold. My dog was soaked and cold. We shivered. We were tired. We were shivering.
Bewildered and disoriented, I shot out 3x, hoping to get a response. Besides the echo of my sos-there was dead silence. I was never so scared as to feel the need to take these sos shots prior or since.
I cuddled my dog for warmth and prayed. I got enough sense to walk a str8 line to the WMA boundary. Once we got there, we followed the perimeter to the parking area. The sight of the car was a miracle. In a steady snow, we drove home wet and soaked to Finksburg. By Hagerstown the snow gave way to rain on I-70
I called my wife and relayed enough of my plight coherently that she had warm soup and drawn a warm tub when I staggered in past 9:30pm.
Hypothernia is not something to mess with. I nearly collapsed as I walked in.
Moral: take map, compass, gps- and know how to use them!
Sent from my SAMSUNG-SGH-I337Z using Tapatalk