What’s the gnarliest situation you’ve been in while hunting?

Back about January of 1980 my brother and I decided to do some coyote calling. I saw a nice pile of timber in the middle of a frozen river (it has been below zero for several days). I thought that would be a good spot for us to set up and call so see coyotes from all directions for a long distance. I stepped out onto the ice and took about 3 steps when it gave way. My feet landed perfectly on a tree that had been lodged under the ice and I only went in up to my waist. I extended my rifle to my brother and he helped pull me out. It was about 6 feet deep in that spot so had I not landed just right, I likely would have gone under the ice and the current would have taken me to the Gulf of Mexico . . . eventually.
 
Tracked a 5 point bull I shot at first light on top of a mountain at about 7100 feet. Hit him a bit high behind the shoulder and maybe just caught the top of one lung. Missed the spine. Started tracking him at 0700. Went probably pretty close to 7 miles and 7 hours later before I finally caught up to him and killed him. The tracking trail was quite a trek. Long story to tell it all so I'll shorten it, but this darn thing would not give up. I could tell he didn't want to go up or down as he was hurting and was having troubles. There was about 5 inches of fresh snow on the ground. At one point I had to crawl on my hands and knees through the thick pine trees that he took me through. I finally pushed him hard enough that I caught up to him and he was laying in a patch of Junipers on a steep 60-75 degree slope. I thought I saw something that didn't look right and I pulled up my rifle and at once saw through this tiny hole his hide. He took off before I got a shot off and went straight down this ridge. Just below us it opened up and dropped about 300-400 yards straight down. He ran down this hillside and what I did not know is that at one point when he had looped underneath me he slipped on the slope and took a tumble. I could see this in the snow. What I did not know is that he broke his right rear leg at the hock and it looked like someone had removed it with a knife preparing to hang him up. So he's sidehilling on this really steep slope for another quarter of a mile when I jumped him as described.

I took off as fast as I could down the slope but I was nowhere near as fast as him or I would have probably taken a heck of a fall. One thing that encouraged me was the fact that he was bleeding more and when we hit the bottom of this ridge he would go a couple hundred yards and then lay down. He'd get up after a bit, maybe heard or saw me coming and would take off. I kept on him and sped things up as I could tell he was slowing down a little. I caught up to him as I went up the next ridge on his track. He had sat down on his butt like a dog would and I saw him about the same time he saw me. He ran and jumped over a fence on three legs. I shot and missed as he was just a second from going out of sight. I still did not know his right rear lower leg was not attached and was completely missing as described above. Now that I had dropped over 1000 feet in elevation the snow was getting less and was melting in spots. I pushed harder even now though but had to slow at times to follow his tracks in the dirt. I would run on the track at times when I had snow to see where he was going, and would slow when there was none.

About 1 1/2 miles later I came upon him standing in some Junipers. He was only about 20 feet away and I shot him in the neck killing him instantly. We were on a steep hillside about 100 yards above a two track forest service road in the bottom of this drainage. I could not see the road though with how steep it was. Right before I caught up to him and shot him, I remember hearing a pickup below me on the road and then the noise just stopped. I had no idea if they were below me or what happened to this vehicle.

When I shot the bull he just dropped out of sight and was gone! The hillside was very steep with scattered junipers. I heard him dropping and could hear a crash bang boom, crash, and then a little silence and a loud whomp. I figured the bull had hit on this two track below me and I was correct. Immediately I heard some men on the road below me talking loud and excitedly. I remember one saying holy crap did you see that, and more excited talk. I started down to them and then I thought better of it and yelled out to them so they would know a hunter was above them and not an elk.

I got down to the bull which was laying flat in the middle of the two track. Three guys in a pickup had stopped unbeknown to me directly below me and where putting chains on when I caught up to the bull. One guy was putting chains on and the other two were watching as he was almost completed with this task. One of the guys heard rocks rolling on the slope above them and thought he saw a flash of elk hide in the timber above them and he got his rifle out of the truck. He could see it was a bull but didn't have a shot. The other two guys thought he was crazy when a shot rang out and then there was this loud crashing sound coming at them at breakneck speeds. All of a sudden this bull comes into view and drops about 20 feet off of a bank on the road and lit on the road about 8 feet from the rear of their pickup.

You can imagine they were pretty excited. They could not tell from where the shot came from and thought it was a friend they had dropped off across the creek from us up on top of the ridge. It was pretty funny when it was all said and done, but these guys came real close to being taken out by my bull tumbling down the ridge, or their pickup being smashed. I could imagine what a 450 pound animal would do hitting something going that fast.

I had to tell these fellas the story of tracking this bull because when I was asked where I shot him and when this started. I pointed to the top of the mountain to the west of us and I said up over the top on the other side clear up near a meadow where elk were feeding at shortly after 7:00 AM. It was now about 2:30 PM. It wasn't until this point that I got a good look at my bull either. When I was working my way down the ridge to the two track they were excitedly asking me questions as I was coming down. " Have you seen his horns, have I seen his back leg, or his ears". I had no idea what they were talking about. When I reached him, my bull was completely sweated up like a saddle horse that had been ridden hard and the saddle and blanket had just been removed. He was wet from the chase we just had over the course of the day and really smelled strongly from his hair being wet. The bull had a normal right antler with 5 points. His right antler was two points. It was not broken and it consisted of a point that grew out sort of straight dropping down slightly, and the other fork grew off to the right after sloping up slightly. His right lower leg was completely gone from the hock down. When he took that tumble on the ridge it must have really snapped at the hock. I was amazed that what was broken off was not still attached and had not been swinging around. Guys who have shot elk know how tough their darn hides are. I can't remember off the top of my head now which ear was which without going and finding pictures I took, but one ear was only half of what it's normal length should be, and the other ear was about 3/4 of the length it should be. Best guess is that maybe when he was a calf in the fall his ears got frozen in a bad storm. They did not look like a mountain lion had gotten hold of them and bit his ears trying to grab on to anything trying to take him down. I didn't look much better for wear and tear than the bull did as it had been a heck of a day. I was as worn out and sweaty as the bull was.

The guys asked me where my pickup was. I was hunting alone and I told them clear up on top of the mountain on the other side. I was not looking forward to climbing the mountain to get back to my pickup either. These guys were nice enough to help me dress my bull out and load it up into the back of their pickup. They loaded me in the back with my bull and drove me around the mountain and back up to the top where my pickup was. We backed up tailgate to tailgate and slid my bull hole into the back of my pickup. I was so grateful for their help. I remember I only had about 20-30 dollars on me in cash. I gave them the money and told them that was all I had but at least maybe it would buy them a few beers or a sandwich or something back in town. I was so grateful.

No body was hurt in this incident, but just a few feet more and it could have been ugly! As it was it was pretty funny and eventful. I got my bull hung up when I got back home and skinned him out. I was wondering what he might eat like after the chase we had just been through, so before I cut him up after letting him hang for a few days, I cut some steaks off of his backstop and cooked them up. He was mild flavored and really tender. I was a little surprised at this but was glad I didn't have to make the whole animal into hamburger and sausage.
 
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6mm Remington said:
Tracked a 5 point bull I shot at first light on top of a mountain at about 7100 feet. Hit him a bit high behind the shoulder and maybe just caught the top of one lung. Missed the spine. Started tracking him at 0700. Went probably pretty close to 7 miles and 7 hours later before I finally caught up to him and killed him. The tracking trail was quite a trek. Long story to tell it all so I'll shorten it, but this darn thing would not give up. I could tell he didn't want to go up or down as he was hurting and was having troubles. There was about 5 inches of fresh snow on the ground. At one point I had to crawl on my hands and knees through the thick pine trees that he took me through. I finally pushed him hard enough that I caught up to him and he was laying in a patch of Junipers on a steep 60-75 degree slope. I thought I saw something that didn't look right and I pulled up my rifle and at once saw through this tiny hole his hide. He took off before I got a shot off and went straight down this ridge. Just below us it opened up and dropped about 300-400 yards straight down. He ran down this hillside and what I did not know is that at one point when he had looped underneath me he slipped on the slope and took a tumble. I could see this in the snow. What I did not know is that he broke his right rear leg at the hock and it looked like someone had removed it with a knife preparing to hang him up. So he's sidehilling on this really steep slope for another quarter of a mile when I jumped him as described.

I took off as fast as I could down the slope but I was nowhere near as fast as him or I would have probably taken a heck of a fall. One thing that encouraged me was the fact that he was bleeding more and when we hit the bottom of this ridge he would go a couple hundred yards and then lay down. He'd get up after a bit, maybe heard or saw me coming and would take off. I kept on him and sped things up as I could tell he was slowing down a little. I caught up to him as I went up the next ridge on his track. He had sat down on his butt like a dog would and I saw him about the same time he saw me. He ran and jumped over a fence on three legs. I shot and missed as he was just a second from going out of sight. I still did not know his right rear lower leg was not attached and was completely missing as described above. Now that I had dropped over 1000 feet in elevation the snow was getting less and was melting in spots. I pushed harder even now though but had to slow at times to follow his tracks in the dirt. I would run on the track at times when I had snow to see where he was going, and would slow when there was none.

About 1 1/2 miles later I came upon him standing in some Junipers. He was only about 20 feet away and I shot him in the neck killing him instantly. We were on a steep hillside about 100 yards above a two track forest service road in the bottom of this drainage. I could not see the road though with how steep Right before I caught up to him and shot him, I remember hearing a pickup below me on the road and then the noise just stopped. I had no idea if they were below me or what.

When I shot the bull he just dropped out of sight. The hillside was very steep with scattered junipers. I heard him dropping and could hear a crash bang boom, crash, and the a little silence and a loud whomp. I figured the bull had hit on this two track below me and I was correct. Immediately I heard some men on the road below me talking loud and excitedly. I remember one saying holy crap did you see that, and more excited talk. I started down to them and then I thought better of it and yelled out to them so they would know a hunter was above them and not an elk.

I got down to the bull which was laying flat in the middle of the two track. Three guys in a pickup had stopped unbeknown to me directly below me and where putting chains on when I caught up to the bull. One guy was putting chains on and the other two were watching as he was almost completed with this task. One of the guys heard rocks rolling on the slope above them and thought he saw a flash of elk hide in the timber above them and he got his rifle out of the truck. He could see it was a bull but didn't have a shot. The other two guys thought he was crazy when a shot rang out and there was this loud crashing sound coming at them at breakneck speeds. All of a sudden this bull comes into view and drops about 20 feet off of a bank on the road and lit on the road about 8 feet from the rear of their pickup.

You can imagine they were pretty excited. They could not tell from where the shot came from and thought it was a friend they had dropped off across the creek from us up on top of the ridge. It was pretty funny when it was all said and done, but these guys came real close to being taken out by my bull tumbling down the ridge, or their pickup being smashed. I could imagine what a 450 pound animal would do hitting something going that fast.

I had to tell these fellas the story of tracking this bull because when I asked them where I shot him and when this started, I pointed to the top of the mountain to the west of us and I said up over the top on the other side clear up near a meadow where elk were feeding. It wasn't until this point that I got a good look at my bull either. When I was working my way down the ridge to the two track they were excitedly asking me questions, "have you seen his horns, have I seen his back leg, or his ears". I had no idea what they were talking about. My bull was completely sweated up like a saddle horse that had been ridden hard and the saddle and blanket had been removed. He was wet from the chase we just had over the course of the day and really smelled strongly from his hair being wet. He had a normal left antler with 5 points. His right antler was two. It was not broken and it consisted of a point that grew out sort of straight dropping down slightly, and the other fork grew off to the right after sloping up slightly. His right lower leg was completely gone from the hock down. When he took that tumble on the ridge it must have really snapped at the hock. I was amazed that what was broken off was not still attached and had been swinging around. Guys who have shot elk know how tough their darn hides are. I can't remember off the top of my head now which ear was which without going and finding pictures I took, but one ear was only half of what it's normal length should be, and the other ear was about 3/4 of the length it should be. Best guess is that maybe when he was a calf that fall his ears got frozen in a bad storm. They did not look like a mountain lion had gotten hold of them and bit his ears trying to grab on to anything trying to take him down. I didn't look much better for wear and tear than the bull did as it had been a heck of a day. I was as worn out and sweaty as the bull was.

The guys asked me where my pickup was, I was hunting alone, and I told them clear up on top of the mountain on the other side. I was not looking forward to climbing the mountain to get back to my pickup. These guys were nice enough to help me dress my bull out and load it up into the back of their pickup. They loaded me in the back with my bull and drove me around the mountain and back up to the top where my pickup was. We backed up tailgate to tailgate and slid my bull hole into the back of my pickup. I was so grateful for their help. I remember I only had about 20-30 dollars on me in cash. I gave them the money and told them that was all I had but at least maybe it would buy them a few beers or a sandwich or something back in town. I was so grateful.

No body was hurt in this incident, but just a few feet and it could have been ugly! As it was it was pretty funny and eventful. I got my bull hung up when I got back home and skinned him out. I was wondering what he might eat like after the chase we had just been through so before I cut him up after letting him hang for a few days, I cut some steaks off of his backstop and cooked them up. He was mild flavored and really tender. I was a little surprised at this but was glad I didn't have to make the whole animal into hamburger and sausage.
Click to expand...
Got any pics of his antlers or leg? Sounds pretty wild
 
Of course not a single picture these guys took using my camera shows his right rear leg. What's sad is the next guy that comes along and see's where this elk was dressed out IN THE ROAD will think to himself, That lucky SOB got this elk right here in the damn road. Why doesn't that ever happen to me? Little do they know!
 
Two that stand out;

Bowhunt for Australian Water buff [about 2,000# animals]
My buddy wounded one with a recurve. We were grid searching when the guide I was with started walking into this 6 foot brush patch. I looped around instead to my buddy 50yds away when we hear the buff mash the guide, spin him around in a 360 plowing brush and then [he must have heard us] ....he charges us. My buddy Robert took off running, I stepped behind a tree as that beast went by me at 3 feet. Guide was lucky the brush had some give...the bull didn't kill him....just a few broken bones.
__________

I was bowhunting blackies in BC with a buddy Dave and he had shot and lost a good bear the night before. We went in the next day and found the trail going right up to a big downed log. Dang! As we were peeking over that 4' log the bear launches right at us from 10' away. I can hardly remember my wedding anniversary...but I can sure picture that bear launching at us like superman as if it was yesterday. Dave shot him right off the end of the muzzle of a Tikka open sighted 30.06 we borrowed from some other hunters. The bear was stoned right at our feet.

A damn fine bit of shooting from Dave. He said it was from all the practice shooting pheasants.


________
 
I have a story told by a long passed friend from Mississippi. This story is both scary and humorous. Seems that my friend O. D. took up bowhunting in the '70s. He jumped from a falling ladder stand. He tossed his recurve bow on his way down. Arrows sprang from his quiver, 2 wound up sticking up in the ground and O.D. landed on 2 Bear broadheads. The broadheads went in just past the bleeder blades in his right butt cheek. The wound while not severe made 2 perfect Xs on his behind and since it was in a fatty area didn't bleed much. He went home to get his wife to put a bandaid on the wounds. By this time swelling had made the wounds look pretty bad. Off to the emergency room and as the nurse was cleaning the wound for stiches she laughed a bit. O. D. asked what was so dang funny. She replied, "I know nothing about bow hunting but how did you manage to shoot yourself in the ass, twice, with a bow and arrow."
TRUE STORY
 
A few years back I was riding our Yamaha Rhino around our property line here in the mountains of NC, and as I was climbing to the highest mountaintop, I came around the bend and there were 2 bear cubs standing in the trail 10yds from me. I knew mama wasn’t far behind so as I looked around I heard a ton of commotion up above me. She was in an oak directly above me trying to get down to her babies. She slipped and landed on top of the Rhino skimming my leg as she rolled off. I quickly slammed the ATV into reverse. In hindsight it wasn’t my best move because all I remember is tumbling down a mountainside with a 1,000lb ATV tumbling right beside me, and a pissed off bear just up the hill. All I remembered was seeing dirt and sky, as we tumbled about 100ft. When the dust settled, I realized my arm was crushed by the ATV and I had rolled into a briar thicket. I had what felt like a thousand lacerations on my back but damn was I lucky to be alive. My upper arm had instantly swelled to about the size of a large football and I couldn’t move it, so with my good arm I made a sling out of outer shirt and grabbed my pistol with my left hand. I slowly made my way back up to the trail but I was standing 2 miles from the truck. I was a able to get a call out and some EMS fellas met me at the bottom of the mountain. It messed my arm up pretty good and had to take Ibuprofen and ICE 24/7 to stave off compartment syndrome. I also had a doctor dig about 500 briars out of my back but at the end of the day I was lucky. Many men have died for less.

E08107D2-D3F0-455C-9B99-547ACC5790A0.jpeg
 
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There is a reason I tell my kids what happens on hunting trips does not get discussed at home. My wife usually hears about these types of rodeos a few years later.

The worst for me was a creek bank gave way on me when I was packing out a rear quarter for an elk a few years back. Rainy, cold and a deep cut bank. Between the pack trying to drown me and jackhammering from being soaked to the bone, I could barely get the fire started, it was not my day.

Stepped on a rattlesnake while trying to put the sneak on a doe in Texas and jumped back arrow fell off rest and dug into my calf. After I shot snake had to dig arrow out, tear up my pants to get some pressure on it and then hike back about a mile to truck. Got a ratted out on that one because I called my wife's best friend to stitch me up. Wife was more po'd i called her friend first.

Thankfully they don't ask about hunting on life insurance applications!
 
There was this time....

I had a huge blonde grizz heading my way on a solo caribou hunt. No weapon of any kind. Bluffing and acting insane does work sometimes.

I found myself miles from shore on an atv out on Lake Huron ice. The offshore wind opened up a huge crack, preventing guys from riding in. Picture the Coast Guard with rescue crews and helicopters picking guys up. I evaded the CG and finally rode to shore hours later by locating an ice bridge and gunning the machine across.

I got stung hard in the face by a scorpion...in the dark....on the island of Molokai. It's hard to shoot a longbow when your face feels like one giant swollen toothache.

A cow moose ran right into my face and blew-hissed the meanest threat I've ever gotten. I walked into a camp a bit shaky-legged but we both lived.

I misjudged the depth and force of a creek crossing in Alaska. The water pushed me several stumbling steps downstream and had me off-balance. I got precariously balanced by jamming the tip of my longbow into the stream bed. Had I fallen, there was nothing downstream except steep cut banks, thick alders and sweepers, and smoking-fast deep water roaring through them. Near-certain drowning scenario. I dried my tears and made it across. :LOL:

Shot a bull (moose) a long way from camp and took a couple days to get everything packed out. Just as I was finishing with the last load a whopper silvertip showed up and claimed the carcass. Close call right there.

A million miles and some serious dollars from home. A year's planning and gear checking. Super Cub into Nowhere Valley and say goodbye to my pilot. "See you in a couple weeks". 2 hours later I discover my rented satellite phone is lacking the SIM card. No way to call anyone. I'll spare the details of how I made it happen, but it's pretty darn interesting to watch a Cub pilot toss a SIM card at you from a plane doing 50 mph about 75 feet overhead.

Though not sexy, I cheated death many decades ago. Fishing near a power plant on the Ohio River in January. While trying to (foolishly) stand and grab a mooring ring which was attached to a concrete wall, a burst of fast water moved the boat back. I was unable to hang on and took the plunge. Breathtakingly cold water. Deep fast water. Pac boots, insulated bibs, parka, the works. I recall thinking quickly that this could be where and how I die. I was completely underwater and hoping nothing hooked me or kept me from surfacing. Meanwhile....

My good friend was horrified back at the tiller. He saw my plunge and pictured me drowning. How would he break the news to my wife? I had grabbed the mooring ring as he held the boat steady....until the fast water pushed him back. I was gone and underwater somewhere. He had nowhere to go....until seconds later. I made the surface despite all the heavy clothes and rather miraculously the first thing I saw was the bow of his boat pointed at me. Dennis spotted me and expertly....quickly guided the boat right to me in the fast water. I threw a hand up and grabbed the cleat. He lunged forward through the boat and clamped onto my hand, wrist, arm and then clothes....hauling me into the boat. I remember telling him I probably needed to get to the truck and dry off some before we went back to fishing. He literally sat with his arm around me and hugged me....it was that bad for him. I felt worse for Dennis than myself. He declared the fishing trip was O-V-E-R and we were heading home. That man saved my life without question.
 
Few that come to mind 2 animal related and one human related.

1. Helping a buddy out on a guided waterfowl hunt. Ducks come in, clients stand up and shoot dropping a few birds. I'm standing up and I'm marking birds so we can send the dog. Guy next to me sits down and a minute later a gun goes off and a piece of the blind flies past my face. I yell WTF? Guy next to me leaned the gun against the blind. It was a new gun and he didn't know if it was on safe so decided to figure that out by pulling the trigger. That hunt was over.

2. Buffalo hunting in Zimbabwe and place had heavy poaching going on. Walking in the middle of the veld when we look up and see a herd of buffalo 25-30 charging directly towards us (they were being chased by a pack of dogs owned by the local poacher). We run as fast as we can toward some trees to stand behind as they run past us at way to close a distance.

3. Hippo I absolutely hate. Had one come out the water and charge the hunting car on the way back camp. OUt fishing for tiger fish on the zambezi rive and had one surface about 2 feet from the boat and open his mouth wide. Thought us and boat were going underwater. Guide had the boat running and in neutral thankfully and got out just in time.
 
Sitting out a lightning storm in my tent, on a totally open hog-back ridge at 12k.
The metal in the poles and stakes were crackling.
The only time in my life so far I actually thought, this was it.

2 years ago, cow calling for my wife...she turns and whispers ‘is that a coyote’
I stand up, a lion jumps back and then slinks off, from out of bush about 10 feet away.
Crazy too, it was dead quite that morning.
 
I wasn’t hunting, but I was fishing. It was January and the water was 36 degrees. I got the boat on the trailer at the launch and forgot my hat, so I hopped back in the boat and went to the stern were the hat was. I got tripped up and went ass over tea kettle off the back of the boat. Somehow, my pant leg got caught on a cleat and I was hung upside down in the water. I was able to cut my pant leg off with my pocket knife. That would have been a dumb way to die.
 
13 years old. Killed a deer in some national forest we hunt. Couple miles in. Drug the deer to the trail and walked out to get sone adult help. Passed two men on the way out. Excited and naive, told them about my experience.

I went on my way and got back to camp and rounded up my dad and uncle. As they’d already killed one. We started back and got to the area I had talked with the two men earlier and lo and behold, here came the men with a 7 point buck that looked exactly like mine.

We talked for a brief moment and they left. I was falling over myself telling my dad and uncle that was my buck. They both said they knew do but, we had to verify it. We took off at a pretty good jog to cover the mike we still lacked getting to where I had left him. When we got there, he was gone. So, we started the run back.

we over took them about a half mile from the trail head. When they heard us running up behind them, they dropped the deer and pulled up their rifles and started shooting st us.

I’m going to leave it there. I’ll say no one died. Despite their efforts. But, they’ll never steal another deer either.
 
13 years old. Killed a deer in some national forest we hunt. Couple miles in. Drug the deer to the trail and walked out to get sone adult help. Passed two men on the way out. Excited and naive, told them about my experience.

I went on my way and got back to camp and rounded up my dad and uncle. As they’d already killed one. We started back and got to the area I had talked with the two men earlier and lo and behold, here came the men with a 7 point buck that looked exactly like mine.

We talked for a brief moment and they left. I was falling over myself telling my dad and uncle that was my buck. They both said they knew so but, we had to verify it. We took off at a pretty good jog to cover the mike we still lacked getting to where I had left him. When we got there, he was gone. So, we started the run back.

we over took them about a half mile from the trail head. When they heard us running up behind them, they dropped the deer and pulled up their rifles and started shooting st us.

I’m going to leave it there. I’ll say no one died. Despite their efforts. But, they’ll never steal another deer either.
 
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