Gobbling Buck

This should get a few posts.

Here's one. When I was a kid, I heard a story that is supposed to be true. Here goes. This guy was taking his wife hunting and went in before daylight and put her on a stand then went to his about 300 yds away. Right before daybreak, she heard something moving in the leaves below and coming towards her stand. Not being able to see, and her husband took the flashlight, she just sat quietly. As she listened, she heard it come directly to the bottom of her tree. She leaned forward to see what was about to join her and lost her balance and fell out. On the way down, she screamed then landed on the intruder. Whatever it was, turned out to be another hunter and left his brand new Browning shotgun behind as he tore a trail back to his truck. The husband heard the racket and came over to find a terrified wife (uninjured by the fall) and a brand new Browning shotgun. My understanding, they placed an add in the newspaper for several weeks for someone to come and claim the gun, but had no responses. This was suposed to have happened in the '70s somewhere in Arkansas. I couldn't imagine!!!

Ol Gutshot

That's priceless. .. . . My wife roommate in college went hunting with her dadnear Karnes City, Texas. She was up in the blind watching some deer down a sendero and a guy in camo carrying a rifle stepped out and kneeled between her and the deer. He took aim, but before he could pull the trigger she shot up in the air. He was startled and truned to see her scowlingout the door of the tower stand. He was so surprised because he was a poacher and she had been away at college and not hunted all year. He made to run off, but she shot the ground 10 feet in front of him. She screamed at him and the threw his hands up. She made him lie down on the ground, while she haeld her .270 on him until her dad showed up to see what the hell was going on. He called the cops and Mr. Poacher man got to sit in the iron bar hotel for a while. I guess it's true. I do know that's how it was told to me.

TSR6

I shot a tree, and the slug still hit the deer, true story. I was later given that tree as a Christmas presant

full story: http://forum.hunting.net/asppg/tm.asp?m=469180

farmcntry

Me and my friend were going to hunt together one morn. He had watched some scary movie the night before. Well we go to the stands before daylight and after I climb up I hear him coming back through the woods running. I'm like, what the heck are you doing? He said he hung his climber on the tree and heard something walking towards him so he flipped on his light and saw a monster about 30 yards away about 10ft tall looking at him with yellow eyes.
After I got down and stopped crying from laughing at him we walked to his stand and sure enough about 30 yards away there was a monster. Only, it was a coon about 10ft up in a tree looking back at him.

I laughed so hard I about died. He made me promise not to tell anyone!

NEB.BuckHunter

These are all hilarious. I needed this after the weekend that I had.

KimberRuger

It was going to be my lucky year I told myself. I would be hunting out-of-state in two states – Virginia and New York.

I had the good fortune of being invited to hunt in Virginia with former professional wrestler Ronnie “Hands of Stone” Garvin. I would never have figured him to be a hunter, but when he invited me into his house I took instant note of his trophy mounts. Naturally, the conversation immediately switched to hunting. Even if he had bought all the mounts at garage sales, by his accounts, he’s been hunting for 75 of his 57 years - anyone with that many tales has to be a hunter.

He had given me directions over the phone. Have you ever gotten directions to someplace off the beaten path and had them be wrong ? You know, where you have no idea where you are, except to know – beyond any doubt – that you’re miles away from everywhere ? Me too. Once. Now I verify everything via internet.

When I got into the mountains it was pretty foggy. Combine the weather conditions with the fact that the mountain roads resembled the road course at Watkins Glen more than an actual road, and you can see why I was slightly reluctant.

I found myself 4 ½ miles along a gravel road going up one of the steepest grades I’ve ever driven on. The fog was so thick, I could only see 30 feet in front of the car.

I’m sure anyone who has ever tried using a spotlight for driving in snow or fog knows what I certainly already knew. The heavier the fog or snow, multiplied by the brightness of the light, equals the length of time the user is blinded. DUH !

After about a half hour, I could finally see again. 7:30 pm. No big deal, it’s only another 2 ½ miles up this road.

I guess it would be interesting to note that I drive a 1989 Nissan 240 SX - a low to the ground, great through the curves, (all-I-can-afford), sports car. I also own 4x4 Blazer, but my wife has to go to work (she doesn’t hunt), and she can’t drive my car.

The road had gone from gravel to something closer to a logging trail, complete with 30 foot long mud-slicked puddles and 8 inch deep tire ruts. Thankfully it was only another six tenths of a mile further.

“Only six tenths”.

Within a matter of 500 feet, the puddles had grown to 30 yards long, and the ruts had deepened to almost 18 inches.

By staying out of the ruts and riding on the edge with one set of tires, and staying on top of the center “hump” with the other side, I could skirt the first dozen “puddles”. The problem was, the farther I went, the worse the road got.

“No big deal, as long as I don’t slide off the ridge and keep going forward, I’m fine”.

And I would have been – if only I didn’t slide of that ridge. I “bounced” across the next set of water holes.

“Maybe if I just stay on the gas …”

Nope. Stopped.

“Try reverse”. Nope, not stopped, stuck.

Oh well, if his mark of “exactly 7 miles” is as accurate, I only had 3 tenths of a mile to go.

“8:30 - Wow, where did the past hour go ?”

Still not the end of the world. Not that I wanted to go for a walk, especially in the cold dampness that came along with the mountain fog. Still, no big deal.

No need to put on my boots, I’ll just walk through the edge of the woods, away from the puddle-ruts. Got my keys, flashlight, … all set. SPLASH.

“Crud !” (OK, I’ll admit it worse than “crud”).

It seems this rut was wider than I thought (actually, I didn’t think, I just stepped out). No big deal. Besides, it’s only 3 tenths of a mile, and I do have one dry foot. It could be worse. Forever the optimist.

30 feet ahead I come across a road going to the left.

“I don’t remember anything about a left turn in the directions” (clue # 1).

But I could hear the sound of the generator coming from that way – calling me.

Question: How long of a walk is 3 tenths of a mile ? Hint – it doesn’t take 30 minutes to get there, even being cautious to step around puddles in the dark and fog, (clue # 2). About 30 minutes later, I found the generator and a trailer. Ronnie’s truck wasn’t there, but there was another one, and I knew another of his buddies would be there.

“Maybe he drove into town”.

“HELLO IN THE TRAILER – DON’T SHOOT !” (I’ve seen “Deliverance” you know, the movie where the mountain hillbillies torture the Yankees ?- I know it wasn’t filmed in Virginia, but this sure “felt” like the setting for the movie).

“HELLO ?”

Knock, knock, knock.

“It doesn’t appear that anyone’s here”.

I snuck a peek through the window.

“No, Ronnie wouldn’t leave stuff laying around like that”.

Over an hour after I started walking, I was back 30 feet in front of my car.

“Go straight ahead, remember, he didn’t say anything about turning left”.

After walking some 500 feet down the road (about 2 minutes of walking), I heard another generator. New hope. I was nearly at the campsite before I could see the vehicles and trailers. Ronnie’s truck was there – I made it. It was almost 10:30. 12:30 by the time we went and got my stuff out of my stranded car (we’ll get the car unstuck in the morning – when it’s daylight).

Breakfast ! Great ! I was too tired to eat last night and even though my last meal was lunch at 3:00 the day before, I couldn’t hold a candle to this man’s appetite. A pound of bacon, a half a dozen eggs, and 7 slices of toast would last me a week. He ate it all and still looked hungry …..

“Is this part of the reason Ronnie Garvin is also known as “the One Man Gang” ?

The mountains have between a 40 and 65 degree incline (or decline if you're
looking down I guess) and are totally prohibitive for stalking. I know: I tried on
Monday and Tuesday. "Holy hikes Batman !" At least I know I won’t have a heart attack if I didn’t have one then.

Wednesday we decided that we’d go into “town” (anywhere with a population of more than 10 people is town out there) and go to the “bathhouse” – a natural hot spring that soothes the body. On the way back to camp I spotted an emu just off the side of the road

“Hey you guys – an emu !”

Ronnie and “Hoot” Gibson (another former wrestler and one of the other hunters in camp) must have thought the warm water (and cold beer) had tickled my brain a little too much judging by their expressions. I think they were about to accuse me of having hallucinations – hey, I couldn’t blame them, who ever heard of an emu in the middle of nowhere ?

“Either that’s an emu, or they got some pretty deformed turkeys up here”.

Hoot finally spotted it.

(I’m really glad they saw it – I don’t know if they would have ever let me live it down if they thought I had over-indulged). The nearest house that was used year-round was well over 4 miles down the mountainside, it must have wandered quite a while.

The only deer I saw all week besides was a spike. He walked up behind me (My
”hunting buddy” (Ronnie) who showed me the "hotspots" pointed me to a log: "They come from down there, or down there, they NEVER come from there, don't even bother watching back that way") … and I had just lit up a smoke (yes, I do have one vice).

Little sucker scared the snot out of me when he snorted. I jumped, but didn't turn. I turned my head slowly, just enough to see him and his antlers. Less than 20 feet away.

Remember "The deer NEVER come from that way" ? Well, since they never
come from that way, my gun was laying in a way that it would be easy to pick up if a deer came from down below - in front of me – where they ALWAYS come from. No way to grab it and turn around if the deer is behind me.

Another stomp, and a half a snort.

"Shoot. what do I do ?" (yeah, right,“shoot”, …. that’s not the word that went through my mind, but this has been edited for family reading).

Remember that smoke I lit ? Well, the smoke drifted in his direction.

Stomp-stomp - snort, wheeze ... three long bounds up and around some brush on a small rise.

"Gone"

It seemed like I was sitting directly in the path that he wanted to take. But, "they never come from that way" ...

When he ran I dropped to my knees, and butted out the smoke while grabbing my gun and used the log I was sitting on as a rest.

He came back out above me on a rocky ledge. With the rocks behind him I couldn't see his horns and I thought it was a doe, but as he passed in front of a tree I could see the color difference - yep, he had antlers.

He was about 80 yards away. I have open sights and I had never hunted with this gun before. Just, well ... I can't explain it - sort of a "self-doubt" type feeling came over me.

"Shoot". "That looks kind of far".

Well, he wanted to go where he wanted to go - apparently down to where the trail (remember, it's the one they never use …) crossed by the log . His only way off that ledge was to come back toward me and over the smaller edge of the ledge. I still hadn't moved - gun shouldered.

"AHAH ! There, behind that tree."

He disappeared again. Maybe he's not going to come over that ridge – there must be another way down that I can't see.

"DARN !"

"There he is again, at the edge of that ledge"

He was looking like he's thinking about jumping down rather than coming closer.

Perfect view. 60 yards or so. Easy shot. Squeeeeeeze the trigger.

”#*##&% !!!” Safety is on. GRRRR !

(Silent click)

Still right there. Squeeeeeeze the trigger.

”SONOFA… !!” I never cocked the hammer (after all, it only takes a fraction of a second to cock it).

(another inaudible click)

"Still there - cool !"

Squeeeeeeze the trigger.

Ka-BANG !

He took that jump.

"Did I hit him, or did the shot scare him into jumping ?"

He jumped out 20 feet, but went down at least 50 (really, it's darned steep). He stumbled, tumbled, flip and rolled.

"Did he jump, or did I get him ?"

He slid, tumbled, rolled, slid, half stood up, slipped, tumbled, rolled and
slid some more. All in all, he went down 100+ yards from where he was
standing when I shot.

"Did he jump when I shot ? Did I even hit him ?"

I can see all around the rock, but I couldn’t see him, or any movement.

"Is he recovering from the shock of what just happened ?"

"Nah, if he was ok, the fear adrenaline would get him up and he'd run"

No leaves kicking around. No noise. No movement.

"Maybe he got scared, jumped and broke his neck when he fell ?"

Nothing.

"Did he get up and walk away where I couldn't see somehow ?"

Noooo, I can see all around.

"Try using my binoculars".

Fumble, fumble, focus.

"Where was he ?"

No ears, no antlers.

"He can't be dead. He must have gotten up when I wasn't looking - or when I was trying to get the binoculars focused ..."

I figured I’d better walk over and check.

"Shoot, I hope I'm not going to have to climb back up to where he was - that's 100 yards STRAIGHT up. DARN I hate the incline"

Closer, closer, now real close to the rock. Still nothing.

"What the heck ? How did he get away without me seeing him ?"
Less than 10 yards. Nothing.

"GOSHDARNIT - I screwed up"

All I could think of was tracking a wounded deer for miles down 60 degrees of decline. This wouldn't be fun. Then, if and when I do find him, I have to go back up.

"SONOFAGUN" (remember, this is the family version)

10 feet.

"Holy cow - there he is.”

"I don't see any blood ...."

"Hmmm ...... maybe he did break his neck"
(I had to laugh out loud)

Nope. Clean shot through the heart.

”I can’t wait to go to NY !” (the NY portion of this story may soon be available in one of your favorite hunting mags)

Quack Addict

My father was in the Army back in the late 50's and was quite the rifleman back in the day (he had marksmanship trophies, etc to show off his achievements). He started hunting in the early 80's after constant prodding from my oldest brother to get into the sport.

My dad and brother went out and bought a pair of used 30-06's - Remington 742 Woodsmasters with scopes and all. My dad liked the idea of the semi-auto actions as they were similar to the M1's he had shot back in the army.

Dad, full of pride instilled from past achievements and never having shot at a live creature before, saw no need to load the rifle to capacity... operating off the "I can shoot damn well and if I don't get it with the first two shots" principle. Long story short, buck comes in and stops broadside... dad shoots #1 - hits a tree or deflects off (maybe even buck fever )... either way, a miss. The buck stands still after the shot, looking straight away from dad, so he puts the X where he wants the bullet to go and sends #2 on its way - another miss. Dad's rifle is now empty and the deer trots off a bit, stops and looks straight at dad as he's trying to get another shell into the gun.

Dad had planned ahead and made sure to have a rope in his pocket to drag his deer out with. The rope he decided to take doubled as his fishing stringer - you know... the kind of fishing stringer with the metal pin on one end - about the size of a long rifle bullet?

Dividing his attention between the buck (standing still again) and trying to put another shell into his rifle, the metal end of the fishing stringer managed to find its way into the open action on the rifle. When he hit the slide release, it locked the whole action up, tight as a drum.

Dad never did get a deer, but he's in my thoughts every time I think about hunting.

j3k2c1

Kinda creepy but:
My dad and I had been deer hunting and coming out of the canyon near my house I saw something eating a deer. By turning the truck enough we could see it run away from the carcas only to stop near a boulder 50 ft away. It looked like it would have wiehged 75 lbs.

After 30 minutes we finally got a much better look at it. It turned out to be a house cat the size of a young cougar! True!

Well in Utah you should shoot any feral cats that you see so we got the .22 out and shot him. Then we called the DWR in spanish fork and told them about it, they thought that we were nuts! then we showed up...the about crapped their pants off! Genetic tests show that it has around 3/4 cougar blood and 1/4 house cat. skinned him after we weighed him-81 1/2 lbs[] we are getting the hide tanned with fur on. never know what is lurking in your neck of the woods do ya?

OneShotCharlie

a friend of mine and i were hunting at his deer camp and when he came back on this day, he had a tale to tell...he had been sittin in a box stand and he was real still and a squirrel came up and sat on the side of the box (on the ledge) and he had the bright idea to shoot it. He had his shotgun loaded for deer (3" buckshot), but that didn't stop him. he got his gun up and slowly moved it towards the squirrels butt and accidentally bumped the squirrel. the squirrel fell (didn't jump) down the ground and the dude stood up and threw pee bottles at it.

that same dude is the guy that hung hotdogs out for deer bait

zak123

Well mine happened yesterday, the 28th. I was duck hunting and all of the ducks flew too high and too fast for us. My dad told me to go grab my camo hat because I have red hair and I needed to cover it up. Well as I turn to grap my hat (it was 5 feet away) 6-7 ducks fly overhead. I could have took down 3. (You can only have 3 shots loaded at a time). I thought it was funny. In Mississipppi when you duck hunt you have to have a plug in your gun. Also on that same hunt, my dads friend was sitting on a log and he heard some noises behind him. He had his gun fully loaded. (shotgun) He turns around and sees 7 deer. Looks in his vest bullet holder and sees some buckshot. He realized he couldn't load it without the deer hearing him. If he would have had a plug in it, he could have unscrewed it quietly and took the plug out and he could have loaded his buckshot. It pays not to break the law.