Stories of hunting partners that didn’t quit.

[roosiebull]

There are quite a few stories of fellas whose partners gave up on them. How about a shot out to partners that didn’t. I’ll start.
A few years ago my oldest daughter drew a sub par moose tag in north Idaho. By sub par, it was a short season in an awkward time of year. We had 11 days of season.
My youngest daughter and I had drawn mule deer tags outside of Riggins as well.
My father in law went up with us for both hunts. We did 10 days on the mule deer hunt, came home for a day and a half and turned back around and did an 11 day moose hunt in north Idaho. My FIL was all in. 70 years old and sleeping 21 days on an army cot in a wall tent. Eating my crappy cooking, keeping everyone’s hopes up and keeping coolers stocked in Keystone Light! The north Idaho trip was pretty miserable. Snow one day and rain the next. We did take one night off and got motel rooms, took care of some laundry and ate a nice dinner. He’s gone now, I miss his presence in camp and his get er done attitude.

One of my favorite people in the world, and the one who got me to start hunting when we were 16 (I thought nothing could get me off the rivers in the fall)

He was born with heart problems, and we were probably mid 20’s he had a big heart surgery, I believe it was 2 valves and a synthetic aorta, it was scary for everyone, it was not a routine surgery, and it was very high risk

Fast Forward a few months, the Dr told him he could start doing things again, but he was freakishly out of shape, he didn’t think he was going to be able to hunt, but he got a deer tag, and he called me up and asked if I would go with him and see how it goes, and of course I was excited that he wanted to try

Knowing he wasn’t going to be able to grind it out, I was trying to think of a high potential hunt, we went out the next morning and deer weren’t moving good, we ended up going to Check one more ridge before leaving, and it was a gradual climb. About 1/2 way up I was realizing how bad of shape he was still in, and I said we should turn around because I didn’t want to kill him.

Of course he wasn’t having it and wanted to hunt it out so we just slowed way down and took lots of breaks, and I started worrying about him, he is tough as they come and it was really concerning seeing him in that bad of shape.

We come up around a corner and here is a doe at probably 15yds and bounces in the timber, when we got even with where the doe was, we both clearly smelled that a buck was with her, they had took off the direction we needed to go so we decided to try to track them and see if we could get on them knowing there was a buck with her

Once we started tracking them, we confirmed that she wasn’t alone (which we knew already) and it felt like a long shot trying to track a couple deer weren’t moving had bumped on a calm day.

We had just got down to the flat at the bottom of the ridge when I see him perk up, lift his rifle and shoot! I was staying back about 15yds so there was less movement and sound.

I get up to him and he said when we popped over the little ridge, the doe hopped off and the buck paused to see what was following them and gave him a quick 40yd shot. After a few minutes we snuck up and found blood, and started scanning around to see direction of travel and see him laying there!

As luck would have it, we had tracked those deer almost all the way back down to our rig, it died probably 200yds from the pickup, and it was all pretty flat. I felt pretty blessed how that hunt played out. One of my favorite hunts ever, one of those “meant to be” moments that can’t be ignored, it was certainly not us that made it happen. I was able to easily drag that nice 3pt to the rig and let him gut it and I loaded it up.

It felt so good driving back with a buck in the bed, against all odds, because we both knew he wasn’t quite ready to be covering ground in the woods yet

 

[farmer14]

My late Uncle Jess. He was the man. He passed from a long battle with cancer almost two years ago. He was a rock on the mountain. He always had a great attitude regardless of the situation. He was a marathoner who ran the Boston a couple times and arguably one of the best athletes I’ve ever seen. I’m pretty sure this was his last hunt (or close to last hunt) .

I’ll never forget his face when I walked up to him while he was standing over this great buck.

RIP my friend. You are dearly missed.

 

[EastHumboldt]

My Son and my brothers. On an elk hunt in a wilderness area five years ago, We had hunted super hard for seven days without seeing an elk. On the last day we could hunt we had done a bivouac the night before. Was the only one with a tag. Got up before Dawn and my son and I trudged up the ridge to a good glassing spot. Not long after the sun came up he said excitedly “I got animals!” All the way on the other side of the drainage below us about a mile and a half away as the crow flies. They were grazing along a small creek, and then they sort of filtered up into the timber above the creek. After so many days of grinding it up and down ridges, and being 62 years old, at the time, I was kind of bushed. I said they’ll probably be gone by the time we get over there. He said don’t give me that crap. We came here to get an elk, and there they are, go get them. So I did. It took me about 2 1/2 hours of steady hiking to walk below them, up a side ridge, and Come in behind them. He had stayed behind, watching through a spotting scope, and he was gonna signal me by hand signs about what was going on. They were still there when I stalked into the middle of them. I was a little too close and about to get busted by some cows, so I shot a Raghorn satellite bull, instead of waiting for the big herd bull. I was mighty glad to get it, I’m glad he put the spurs to me. . Then, on the pack out, he was an animal and carried twice as much meat as everybody else. While waiting for him and my two brothers, I took off one of the fine quarters by myself. All in all a memorable day, and so glad for the company of my family.

That was the first hunt ever for my younger brother who was 59 years old at the time. The next year he took his first muley buck, and a couple weeks ago he shot his first bull elk. Same crew except the oldest brother, doesn’t hunt with us anymore. Almost the same story too, except it happened on day one. My son spotted animals almost 2 miles away, so we walked over there and shot one of them.

 

[Neckbone]

Wyoming archery elk 2025, Greys River (Steep sheeite)

My hunting partner is 71y/o. I am 40 (in shape, but at 71 so is he). I got a damn cold on the plane on the way to Wy. Sore throat, cough, etc. Of course part way through our 8 full day trip he gets sicks too. The trip was brutal....you know how it is. Bugles were a plenty early but shut off after 2 days. Up the hill down the hill, up the canyon, down the canyon. Got rained on for 2 days straight. Gumbo on the boots. IT was hard to strap on wet boots, eat a pop tart, and have a climb in the dark every morning, but thats we we did. Never so much as a complaint from him or even a hint that he wasnt feeling well besides the cough and congestion. Always positive. Embraced the suck. Never took the easy way out or balked at the next climb.

We get back home and he has double ear infection and upper respiratory infection. Steroids and 2 rounds of antibiotics to get him back. One tough SOB.