Let’s hear some horror stories

[khart_6882]

I’ve definitely had some disastrous hunts, let’s hear about yours.
Complete gear failures?
Extreme unpredicted weather?
Guide or hunting partner bail or abandon you without warning?
Forget something vital to your hunt and not realize it until you were miles from the truck?
It’s the slower season so let’s hear about when chit went completely sideways and got downright miserable if not absolutely dangerous


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[khart_6882]

I’ll throw my hat in the ring

2018 me and my buddy decided to try hunting Idaho. Not nearby our home area in the the panhandle, but in the Frank church for muleys and elk in early October . Go big or go home I reckon.
The plan was 5 horses, 2 guys. 2 total days of travel, 2 days of riding in and out on horses, 7 days of hunting. 11 days total.
We did next to no packhorse training, basically just bought a bunch of pack gear and made sure it fit our team roping horses without blistering them up. A week before we were scheduled to leave one of my best horses got hurt at home so I had to use my wife’s barrel racing horse. This horse is a pampered pasture pet who’s done nothing in her life besides turn and burn around barrels in an arena.
The drive down went well (aside from having to chain up all 4 tires on the pickup and the front axle of the trailer). The next morning we woke up to 6” of fresh snow, regardless we loaded the horses and made it about 50 yards from the trailer before rodeo time started and gear was scattered everywhere. By the time we gathered everything and repaired all the pack gear it was mid morning so we decided to try again the next morning.
The next morning we did well for about 4 miles until my best horse decided to try and pass on a narrow trail and rolled down the mountain. By some miracle he was pretty much unharmed so onward ho! I was told this was a good trail…I would have considered it death defying to be conservative. I was also told it was about 11 miles to the place we wanted to camp…turned out to be 19.
We got to this big meadow to camp right at sundown and as the snow started coming down. We pert near had a fist fight getting the wall tent set up but eventually got it up and made it to bed. The remainder of the trip was pretty mild…just a few minor incidents of loaded horses getting away and making a run for the trailer, a horse coming up lame and unable to carry gear, and a night of sleeping under the stars along the trail on a 15° night. But other than that!


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[ELKhunter60]

My buddy and I have rented Llamas before and decided to rent one for a do it yourself archery elk hunt one year. We picked the Llama up from the rental company the night before we went in from the trailhead and stayed at our friends house in Pagosa Springs. We staked the Llama in their large yard for the night and went to bed. Woke up around 6:00 am - loaded up the truck and went to get the Llama. No Llama. Looked around - stake somehow got pulled out. Looked all over the place for the Llama - nothing. How far can a Llama with a rope dangling from him go right??

Spent the day looking. Nothing. Finally I decided we came to elk hunt - we're going elk hunting. The next morning we hiked in without our Llama. Got to the camp site about 9:00 am and we decided to go hunt a little bit before putting up camp. 45 minutes into our hunt a bull answered my cow call. I eventually called him into within 7 yards of my buddy who took complete advantage of this love sick critter and put the spank on him. He died 100 yards later as my buddy and I watched in disbelief.

Long story short - we got 1/2 way out with our first load when my buddies cell phone got service and his phone began ringing. He picked up. It was his cousin. Their neighbor found our rental Llama in his yard with the lanyard rope tangled in some brush about 1/2 a mile down the road and down a long driveway. Apparently the neighbor had been gone and noticed him when returning from a trip. In the end the Llama went home safe and we got a decent 5 x 5 bull. Crazy experience but one of my favorites as well!

 

[NRA4LIFE]

Complete gear brain failures? Way too many to list.
Extreme unpredicted weather? Too many times to list. WI, WY, MT, WA, MO
Guide or hunting partner bail or abandon you without warning? BS excuse, he just didn't want to help. That one hurt.

 

[Curmudgeon]

Montana early September bow hunt. Had done this hunt for several years in a row and always crisp mornings with short sleeve temps by afternoon. Major snowstorm caught us at night and finally lost the battle to keep tent from collapsing. Crawled out the next morning to 20" of snow. Finally got the tent back up and then the temperatures dropped big time. Spent the next three days just trying to survive with no chance to hunt. Finally started warming up and melted enough that we packed up and called it quits.

Colorado early season solo bow hunt at timberline. Wind storm comes in a couple hours before daylight and I spend the two hours before it gets light just trying to keep the tent from being blown away with me in it. At daylight I abandon the tent and find a large boulder to huddle behind with my backpack and bow while the rest of my gear is scattered everywhere. Wind finally slacks off enough to track down my torn up tent with sleeping bag still in it and get my butt off the mountain. Ran into a forest service guy on the drive out and he said they had reported winds in places over 70 mph.

 

[nobody]

Forgot my release last year on a backpack elk hunt. Realized it at 11 PM the night we hiked in. No spare (learned my lesson). We were a 5 hour round trip from home, partner And I decided to alternate shooter sharing a release. Largely I ended up being the caller, which is fair considering I was the one who didn’t have a release. After 3 days of hard rain, it finally cleared up and got nice and the elk started to talk and play. Glassed up a nice 5 point at 1500 yards across a canyon, but to get to him was a 2 mile hike around the head of the basin crossing some scree fields and side hilling. We started over there and were running into cows and calves along the way And were getting excited. After a couple hours of slowly working our way over there trying to not blow everything out, we got to where the elk had been and we set up and started to call. After about 7 minutes of back and forth, the herd busts out right above us and runs full bore right past us, obviously spooked by something. We never got a shot off and looked up the hill about 150 yards to see 2 very confused city guys in their mid 50’s who obviously had VERY different lifestyles than us. They were both in neon pink polo shirts, khaki slacks, and sun hats. They came down to us and asked what we were doing, and we told them and then asked the same thing. They said they were out for a “walk” and were trying to make it back to their car but were lost. They had no food, water, supplies, or knowledge of the outdoors. We helped get them turned around, and sent them on their way for what was going to be a 10-ish mile hike out. We had been less than 100 yards from the bull only to have our hunt ruined by a 50 year old flaming g@y hipster couple.

Had an early season muzzleloader mule deer hunt about 8 years ago where the weather said a 10% chance of rain one day while we were out. It rained non-stop from noon on opening day for the next 4 days. I’m not taking rain, I’m talking torrential downpour. Temps also plummeted big time, about 25 degree drop. We were ill prepared, but because we had traveled 6 hours and taken the time off work, we decided to stick it out. That trip was the single most miserable trip, of any flavor, I’ve ever been on. I’ve literally never been wetter. Standing water everywhere, no traction on the inclines because of mud, couldn’t ever dry out, it was awful.

 

[MallardSX2]

I could go on in great detail about how miserable I was back in 2009 on a Colorado OTC elk hunt but I will just say that it rained every single day of my hunt, my tent leaked, my boots leaked, and my hunting partner was an absolute jerk the entire time. I couldn't get home soon enough. And it was a LONG 27-hour drive home.

I have since had so many great adventures there, but I learned a lot about myself and hunting with other people on that trip that its burned into my brain. I do things a lot different now. Most importantly, I never went back hunting with that hunting partner again.

 

[rodney482]

Bought a black truck

 

[mtwarden]

I've had numerous rough hunting (and non-hunting) trips, but I think this trip tops them all out of a long list of them!

https://rokslide.com/forums/threads/one-tough-trip-snowshoeing-across-the-bob-marshall.259138/

 

[KenLee]

Bought a black truck

Ain't nothing prettier when she's clean. I wash and wax mine once a year for a reminder.
Rest of the year, she's so dirty that folks think it's blue.

 

[NoCoElk]

Montana early September bow hunt. Had done this hunt for several years in a row and always crisp mornings with short sleeve temps by afternoon. Major snowstorm caught us at night and finally lost the battle to keep tent from collapsing. Crawled out the next morning to 20" of snow. Finally got the tent back up and then the temperatures dropped big time. Spent the next three days just trying to survive with no chance to hunt. Finally started warming up and melted enough that we packed up and called it quits.

Colorado early season solo bow hunt at timberline. Wind storm comes in a couple hours before daylight and I spend the two hours before it gets light just trying to keep the tent from being blown away with me in it. At daylight I abandon the tent and find a large boulder to huddle behind with my backpack and bow while the rest of my gear is scattered everywhere. Wind finally slacks off enough to track down my torn up tent with sleeping bag still in it and get my butt off the mountain. Ran into a forest service guy on the drive out and he said they had reported winds in places over 70 mph.

Deep snow will kill an elk hunt for a few days

 

[Kindo]

Early 2000s and my dad took me on a NM rifle elk hunt through what we thought was a reputable outfitter for my graduation gift. Opening day, my dad and I are chasing bugles up the mountain in the dark with our "guide" while he has his headlamp on. When we inquire about him having his headlamp on is a good idea he tells us "oh, they can't see it". We both roll our eyes and not wanting to step on toes, we just roll with it.

3/4 of the way up the mountain and my dad chooses to stay put and call a bit while we keep after this bull. About 45 minutes later, we hear my dad shoot and he's dropped a 300+ bull so we're pumped and hustling back to him as we can hear other bugles close by. We have another bull coming in screaming and he can't be more than 75-100 yards away in the thick timber. All of a sudden, I can hear water running behind me and I turn around to the guide taking a leak not 5 steps behind me. That bull busts eventually so we go and pack my dads bull out.

By day 3, we're tired of this guide and his ineptitude even though we're a couple of flatlander whitetail hunters from WI, who don't know much about western hunting. We talk to the owner of the outfit and he agrees to send me with his son the next day. This is where things get interesting.

The best way to describe his son would be if Pedro from Napoleon Dynamite did lines of coke every 15 minutes and wasn't afraid to blur the ethics lines a bit. He was an interesting fella to say the least. He first tells me he's got a great trail to hunt where I could sit on the back of the 4wheeler in the bed of his truck as he drives and shoot from there. I politely decline as even though I'm from northern WI, that's just not my style. So from here, we make a plan to go back to the public land I've been hunting, but we're going to go deeper and around some reservation land to get there. Before leaving, the owner grills him telling him we are absolutely not to cross into any tribal land, even if we're just "passing through". His son insists we're not and we hit the road.

We take the quad back in the dark and pass a few gates. The gates seem to be on the corners of some property boundaries and aren't locked, so I just figured it was some public access thing. As we're hunting, we can hear some gunshots back on the tribal ground but don't think anything of it as they have hunters there and continue on our way. That morning is pretty slow so we start heading back and I stop him as we're passing the ground we hunted on day 1. I ask if he's cool that I do my own thing and I'll meet him down on the road at dark. Without hesitation, he drops me off and he's gone (probably had to go get his fix). Well, after lunch I do some calling and end up calling this raghorn which I end up shooting and I'm ecstatic! I had someone's cell phone along so I called the guide to tell them the good news and start heading to the road. The guide and I get the animal quartered and start hauling it out to the truck and as we're making walking to the truck, the owner of the outfit comes flying up in his Yukon and yells at me to "get in the ******* back seat and lay on the floor and leave your gun with the guide!". My ear to ear grin from my success was quickly wiped away in the seriousness of everything. He peels out of there with me laying on the floor in the back and immediately starts grilling me about where we shot this bull and where we had been that morning.

Turns out, those gates we passed, were small corners of tribal ground and while we never exited the wheeler while passing through, we were in the wrong since we had weapons along. The bull I shot was easily a half mile away from any boundaries, but since I was solo and didn't know the area that well, he just assumed that I was on tribal ground. In addition, those gun shots we heard earlier that day, were some other hunters on tribal ground that weren't supposed to be there and they poached a bull. As he's driving me back to camp he continues to grill me and keeps asking if there's anything I need to tell him.

As he and my dad we're heading out to meet up with us and help pack out my bull, they passed our access road which also led back to the reservation. As they were waiting, a convoy of 10-12 pickups (some of which were Tribal Police) full of armed men in the beds were heading up in our direction to catch the poachers, to which, my dad and the outfitter thought had to be me since there were no other vehicles at the trailhead. As my dad is walking up the road, he comes up on two Tribal Officers and startles them while he's holding onto his cell phone. Thinking he's armed, both officers pull their sidearms and force my dad down on to the ground spread eagle. They eventually let him go when they realize that technically they're not on tribal ground and what they pulled was most likely illegal. My dad cuts down the mountain until he gets a call from the outfitter that I'm safe back at camp and the guide snagged him off the road. Since we had all tagged out by that point, it was recommended that we break camp that night and try to get out of town to not get dragged into any potential ****storm that was coming.

We got the truck loaded up and said our goodbyes to the couple of MN guys left at camp. We hop into the truck and as we're pulling onto the highway, I turn the radio on. I s**t you not, the first song to play was Indian Outlaw... We all breathed a sigh of relief as we crossed the border into CO on our long journey home.


Sorry to be long winded on this one and I even left out quite a few other stories from my uncle's guide and other oddities we experienced on this trip. One of the guys from MN got nicknamed "breakfast" as he was stalked by a mountain lion on day two and didn't know it until the cat was about 10 paces behind him.

It was years later and my dad looked into some of the names from that outfit and I think the son got dinged with some felonies that were non-hunting related. They were quite the crew!

 

[87TT]

I ran out of coffee once. Little stuff like falling down, freezing, etc. were just part of the deal but that was horrific.

 

[505Wapiti]

Well, I’ll try to make a long story short…. In 2013 we hired an outfit to pack our stuff in for a drop camp in the all wilderness unit of the Gila and at the end of the hunt they would pack our stuff out along with any bull but not a guided hunt. We all met at the trailhead location and proceed to put most everything on horses and keep minimal gear (our diluted packs and rifles) with us and hike in and get a lay of the land/hunt our way to camp the first day. Well, right off the bat crossing a shallow creek I proceed to bust my azz on a mossy bottom that was slicker than ice and get soaked from the waist down. It was way below freezing at night and mid 40s to low 50s during the day and the packers and all of our gear were long gone. Well it’s still pretty dark on our side of the ridge and I’m freezing, so I stop and take my boots, socks and pants off and ring as much water out as possible, put my socks and boots back on and hang my pants over my pack to dry and start busting it up to the top of the ridge to get into some sunlight since my legs were lobster red at the thighs. Direct sunlight never felt so good.
We proceed to hike the trail most of the day (myself hiking in my boxers and boots waiting for pants to dry) to the location coordinates they gave us expecting to find our gear and we find nothing. After searching for a couple hours around the location we decide to call on sat phone and after multiple attempts get the head of the outfit who proceeds to tell us that his hand gave us the wrong gps coordinates. So off we go on to find the correct location which we finally locate in the dark around 9pm that night. Miserable day to say the least but just happy to find our stuff and set up camp.
The rest of the hunt seems to go okay for a few days during which I jump a mountain lion off a fresh deer kill (which I posted about in the Creepy Experiences thread) that made for some uneasy moments.
As the hunt goes on my buddy tags out on a nice bull and the last day on the way out we encounter the largest black bear I’ve ever seen with bear tag in my possession. Have him about 65 yards broadside and pull the trigger to hear a click. He woofs and busts through the timber like an elephant, game over. Firing pin issue in my rifle . You can’t make this stuff up. I still dream about that big boar, he haunts me in my dreams.
I learned a valuable lesson that trip that so many times in the past I’ve gone many miles with limited gear and I have a different approach now in preparation for the worst. You don’t have to be very far in for something to go completely sideways and things can get dangerous really quick. Fortunately though I look back at that hunt as one of the worst as far as unfortunate events and eating elk and bear tag soup, I learned some valuable lessons and it makes for good stories to tell. Would definitely like a do over on that one!

 

[MNGrouser]

It wasn’t hunting related but it ended up being my trip from hell. We had a group that was going to do a Boundary Waters Canoe Area (BWCA) canoe camping trip. Myself and my (now ex) wife, another married couple and one more guy. All of us had varying degrees of camping and/or canoeing experience. The lone guy checked with some work buddies about a recommended lake/route. We got a recommendation for a particular lake with a variety of perks. The entry point was on a river that fed into the lake…no portaging. There were no established portages from this lake into any other nearby lakes…no through traffic of other canoers. Good camp sites, great fishing and a sand beach for swimming.

Since we wouldn’t need to portage anything, the ladies packed EVERYTHING. Each married couple had a canoe to themselves and the solo guy rented a one-man canoe. With 3 canoes we would be able to load the aforementioned gear into canoes and push off. We had 1 Duluth pack loaded with nothing but boxed wine!

We stopped in town to pick up the rented one-man canoe as well as some bait and our entry permits. The sadistic bait-shop owner talked us out of our plan with what became the mantra of the trip. “If you drop in on the river, you’re gonna regret it!” It was a very dry summer and the river level was extremely low. Low to the point that he questioned our ability to float loaded canoes. Fear not! There is a second entry point just a couple of miles up the road. The lake is only ¼ mile from the wilderness boundary. We’d be able to drive close and, with a few portage trips, have everything to the lake.

We parked our vehicles to the trailhead. There was a parking area with a trail leading towards the lake that was blocked off by a few very large boulders. (This is a common way to prevent motorized vehicles from entering the wilderness area) I loaded a Duluth pack on my back and a canoe on my shoulders and started the hike into the lake. I had walked a good long ways on a sketchy trail and still had not struck water. I finally ditched the canoe and was going to complete trip one with just the pack on my back. I eventually found a sign marking the boundary of the wilderness. A short distance later and I found the lakeshore. The lake may have only been a quarter mile from the edge of the BWCA, but the parking lot was considerably farther. I started the jog out for the next round of gear. The ladies were convinced everything we had packed was necessary. I think I made a total of 4 trips in. (We would later look at some maps and online photos to learn the ¼ mile portage was closer to 3 miles)

Once all gear was deposited lake-side we loaded up and started paddling for the designated campsite at the other side of the lake. That is when the headwind picked up and storm-clouds started rolling in. With all the gear we did not have much freeboard left on the canoes. I was worried that it wouldn’t take much water coming over the gunnel to turn my canoe into a submarine. With a little encouragement, I got my wife to (literally) quit crying and start paddling. All three canoes made it safely to the campsite.

The weather was beautiful and the fishing was as advertised. At the end of the week we took the river out rather than portage back through the mosquito infested swamp. The water was low and loaded canoes may have been tough, but it couldn’t have been worse than that portage. When we got to the parking lot I was nominated to jog to the entry-point where we had left our vehicles and drive my truck back to start the vehicle/gear shuffle.

Years later I got divorced. It was finalized in November (during the MN deer season). My ex was engaged to the solo-canoer from this trip by February. But that is a whole ‘nother story!

 

[Jstumbaugh]

Years later I got divorced. It was finalized in November (during the MN deer season). My ex was engaged to the solo-canoer from this trip by February. But that is a whole ‘nother story!

Somehow saw that coming at the beginning of your story....

 

[505Wapiti]

Somehow saw that coming at the beginning of your story....

Yeah, two couples and single dude back country was an instant red flag for me. Sad that we’ve been conditioned to think that way.

 

[MNGrouser]

Where the hell were you guys 15 years ago when the clueless version of me needed ya?

 

[bigbassin]

Yeah, two couples and single dude back country was an instant red flag for me. Sad that we’ve been conditioned to think that way.

I’m always that solo dude. Nothing is going on, I’m just ugly

The entry point was on a river that fed into the lake…no portaging. There were no established portages

Once you get back a ways those portages are rough, had a buddy pretty much break out there on day 3 portaging through a long swamp. He didn’t ask to leave but he looked defeated the next 4 days, said on day 7 once we got back to the truck he’d never stay anywhere that long again.

In his defense, have you ever seen horse flies bite someone through their shoes while they have a canoe on their head? I never had prior, and from my end it was one of the funniest things I’ve ever witnessed, he seemed to enjoy it quite a bit less.

Guy had north of 250 bites through his pants, shoes, shirt, and buff by the end of the trip. Think I had 7 and I was barefoot and shirtless for a good part of the trip.

 

[BravoNovember]

2021 my last hunting season not being a dad, also my last season navigating drill weekends in the national guard.

Opening duck season always seamed to fall a 3day drill weekend. This one happened to be a home station, and for some reason we got out early and I decided to make it out for an afternoon hunt.

I did not pay attention to the weather because I had no intention that I would be hunting that afternoon. I raced home after being released for the night and picked up my exo pack, waders, shotgun, a dozen decoys and an excited GWP to head out for a couple hour hunt.

When I get to the public hunting grounds I do the usual. Get gear on, collar on dog, id/license and truck key in pocket. It’s about a 3/4 mile walk from parking to hunt so I like to go minimal as possible.

Fast forward about an hour and it turns into a full on lightning storm and downpour. I pack up and start running back to the truck.

I get to the truck and go to unlock the door and the key will not open it. I take the key itself off the ring for the hunt and wanting to have minimal with me on the hunt and failed to remember that I had changed out the ignition and key for the truck a few months prior, so the key would not open the door and the key fob was locked inside the cab of the truck.

I ended up being able to get unlock with a series of ratchet straps, the truck antenna and a gerber multi tool.

To salt the wound, I went to oil down the Belgian made browning A5 when I got home, due to it being in a downpour. And I didn’t pay attention to the can I grabbed. It was a cleaner and oil combo and it dissolved the finish on the stock and front grip of the gun.

Glad this is the worst I have to share.