Deer Hunting Debacle Story...True Story

[BrandonOR]

it happens. i have a funny but rather gross story... a buddy of mine was 3 steps into the woods in his "office" about to do his business when suddenly a 4x4 muley popped out. he got excited and ended up crapping his pants...wouldnt ride in the truck after the morning hunt was over. i noticed his shirt was missing when he took his jacket off back at camp...

"hey, wheres your..."

"I DONT WANNA TALK ABOUT IT"


lol he taked about it around the fire that night after driving 15 miles to town to pay for a shower.

we were ROLLING!!!

some of the funniest stuff happens while hunting.

That's why wet wipes are a necessity when I pack out, that or one sock it

 

[Mister Bisley]

That's why wet wipes are a necessity when I pack out, that or one sock it

Three leaves and shiny, leave far behindy

 

[P7M13]

I used to regularly take people shooting. First we go over safety, the weapons, etc. I won't take my wife anymore. She can shoot well enough, but her muzzle and finger control are crazy dangerous. Wound up yelling at her and packing up our gear the last time. Not a good mix.
Now I just go shooting alone because I want to get some actual target shooting done.

With the drinking I see going on in some camps, it's amazing any hunting gets done at all.
Then you get the bored ones, who, after sitting still for a few hours, need to experience the recoil of their rifle and shoot something in their view. Back at camp: "I thought I heard you shooting in your area." "Yeah, that was me." "Anything?" "Nope, just wanted to shoot something." Then comes more beer or liquor.

Easily 6x this has happened: after many hours in the woods (coastal range), I'll come out and as I'm on the road, two guys looking like they're on a camo modeling stint and sitting in a 4x4 that's almost as expensive as my house, will ask if I'd seen anything. Only time that bothered me was when one said, looking at my good-will hunting assemblage, "you look well outfitted."
One time though, came up from a creek bed and stepped out onto a logging road as an ancient Ford was chugging up the hill. I waved it by and he stopped ~50 feet ahead, then backed up. Inside was an old man who had been out grouse hunting all day. Empty handed. He offered me a ride. It was probably two miles back to my car, all uphill, and dang I appreciated that.
I've only hunted 2x with others and one was extremely noisy. Crunching every fallen branch, clearing his throat, humming. I'd say, "WTF dude, can't you be quiet?" I would ask myself, am I this damned loud?

I carry while hunting because I've met some scary dudes in the woods who are higher than a kite on something. Dilated pupils, bloodshot eyes, ask them to keep their distance and they keep moving in. When I can no longer handle the weight, it'll be time to stop hunting.

 

[Tarawa86]

I talk to the farmer and he says...

Dude, that wall of text and not one "farmers daughter" joke anywhere...

 

[No_Regerts]

Dude, that wall of text and not one "farmers daughter" joke anywhere...

If you saw his daughter, you'd know why the lack of interest.

 

[No_Regerts]

I used to regularly take people shooting. First we go over safety, the weapons, etc. I won't take my wife anymore. She can shoot well enough, but her muzzle and finger control are crazy dangerous. Wound up yelling at her and packing up our gear the last time. Not a good mix.
Now I just go shooting alone because I want to get some actual target shooting done.

With the drinking I see going on in some camps, it's amazing any hunting gets done at all.
Then you get the bored ones, who, after sitting still for a few hours, need to experience the recoil of their rifle and shoot something in their view. Back at camp: "I thought I heard you shooting in your area." "Yeah, that was me." "Anything?" "Nope, just wanted to shoot something." Then comes more beer or liquor.

Easily 6x this has happened: after many hours in the woods (coastal range), I'll come out and as I'm on the road, two guys looking like they're on a camo modeling stint and sitting in a 4x4 that's almost as expensive as my house, will ask if I'd seen anything. Only time that bothered me was when one said, looking at my good-will hunting assemblage, "you look well outfitted."
One time though, came up from a creek bed and stepped out onto a logging road as an ancient Ford was chugging up the hill. I waved it by and he stopped ~50 feet ahead, then backed up. Inside was an old man who had been out grouse hunting all day. Empty handed. He offered me a ride. It was probably two miles back to my car, all uphill, and dang I appreciated that.
I've only hunted 2x with others and one was extremely noisy. Crunching every fallen branch, clearing his throat, humming. I'd say, "WTF dude, can't you be quiet?" I would ask myself, am I this damned loud?

I carry while hunting because I've met some scary dudes in the woods who are higher than a kite on something. Dilated pupils, bloodshot eyes, ask them to keep their distance and they keep moving in. When I can no longer handle the weight, it'll be time to stop hunting.

A 300 Win Mag would donthe job on a tweeker if you choose bullets that opened up real fast. They aren't real thick.

 

[P7M13]

If you saw his daughter, you'd know why the lack of interest.

Coming from you, that says a lot.....

 

[Tarawa86]

If you saw his daughter, you'd know why the lack of interest.

Dang. Always a "Daisy Don't", never a Daisy Duke

 

[No_Regerts]

Dang. Always a "Daisy Don't", never a Daisy Duke

If Ol' Hamfist got a hold of ya, there'd be no getting away. Best just to let her finish.

 

[P7M13]

If Ol' Hamfist got a hold of ya, there'd be no getting away. Best just to let her finish.

A 300 Win Mag would donthe job on a tweeker if you choose bullets that opened up real fast. They aren't real thick.

Never practiced with my hunting rifle, drawing a bead on a moving target at powder burn range.

 

[ZigZagZeke]

and thats why yuppies will starve to death. LOL




im sure theyre good dudes. just inexperienced at hunting game. i like taking new hunters out but, for 6 months prior i take them shooting often so that theyre proficient!

My son-in-law was not a hunter, but he wanted to go, so I loaned him a Marlin 336 in.30-30, and took him to the range to sight it in. I then took him out to the ranch and installed him in my honey hole on the edge of the canyon. I hunkered down in honey hole #2. As it's just getting light enough to see color I spot two large forkies 100yds out. I shoot and somehow manage to miss. Both of them take off in different directions. I move to my left about 20 yards to get a better view through the junipers. The buck headed out across the wheat field thinks better of it and turns around to run back toward his partner, which is also towards me. About 80 yards out he stops to look around, Maybe looking for his buddy? He's standing broadside to me and I nail him dead center off hand. I see his pal running away at about 150 yds and think fleetingly about filling my SIL's tag too, but my ethics and better judgment take over and I go to field dress my buck. I go get the truck and load him up and drive back to within a half mile of honey hole #1, where I can now watch my SIL "hunt".

So I see him sitting behind a clump of buck brush along a trail down into the canyon approximately where I told him to be. Clue #1 why he NEVER sees any deer; I can see him from 1/2 mile away. His head is sticking up above the top of the bush and it's on a swivel. He never stops moving. Every couple of minutes he stands up to shift positions. I watch as a group of does approach to about 200 yds and then veer off when they him moving around. It's getting to be 10 am-ish now, so I drive on up to the gate about 1/4 mile from him. He sees me and I wave him over to the truck.

"Is that how I taught you to sit on a deer stand?"

"Well, yeah. You said to keep an eye out in every direction."

"I also told you to move NOTHING but your eyeballs. What's with the dancing around?"

"My feet go to sleep if I don't move."

"Get in the truck. Let's go get some breakfast and hang this one up and skin it."

I encouraged him to go on the west side with the guys at work, and I try to hunt alone now.

 

[Tarawa86]

If Ol' Hamfist got a hold of ya, there'd be no getting away. Best just to let her finish.

I totally get it

 

[gunnails]

1978
We were juniors in HS, and my good friend Bobby had a deer tag and was looking for some friends to go hunting with. I didn't have a tag and had never deer hunted before but had been up to this spot he wanted to go outside of Dufur OR that was known as Uncle Fricky's Ranch 3 or 4 times before and had great fun hunting pheasants and quail and agreed to go, also talked our friend Ray into going along although he was not a hunter.
We left on a Friday after school and after a short 3 hour drive in Bobby's 61, 4 door Impala blasting Judas Priest on his Pioneer Super Tuner with the bass turned low and the treble on high the whole way there.
The ranch was a paradise of around 500 acres 1/2 of it wooded with an old vacant 1920's house that was spartan yet had running water and electricity and a wood stove, a stereo with 6 foot tall speakers. We of course spent that night getting lit up.
Next morning were up bright and early and Bob is ready to get after it, we dragged Ray out of his cot and all hopped into the Impala to take a short mile drive through the ranch to get to where Bobby wanted to start his hunt.
Once again Bobby insist on cranking Judas and when we get to where Bob wants to start, he continues to just drive around in the Impala, next thing I know were cruising down a dry creek bed, Bob is driving, I'm riding shotgun, and a very queasy hung over Raymond is getting tossed around a bit in the back seat.
Stereo blasting rolling up this wash and I am thinking, no way in hell or we going to see anything. Then sure enough Bob and I spot a doe on the driver side of the vehicle just standing there with a what the hell are they doing look on his face 30 feet away.
Bobby slams the car to a stop and reaches for his 30-30 which is muzzle down between us, I put my left hand out to keep the muzzle from pointing my way while Bob excitedly grabs it and wrestles it out the driver side window and I use my right hand to open the car door because I knew things were about to get much louder then the stereo.
I got half way out before the blast of the rifle and by the time I turned to look the deer was down and flopping through it's death throws.
Bob is out of the car jumping around looking at the down deer and figuring his next move, Ray is in the back seat still in total shock, and I just watch.
Bob is freaking out cause he forgot his hunting knife, he had been taught that the proper way to finish a deer was by slicing it's throat.
Ray is out of the car now, Bob picks back up his rifle cause the deer was still trembling (his first shot was money, he hit the doe right below the head in the neck) and starts to shout Die, Die and shoots the deer three more times in the throat simulating a knife cut.
A few minutes go by and the deer is done trembling, Ray is still in shock and all our ears are ringing and then comes Bambi.
Bob flips out on Bambi trying to get it to leave, cursing at it, throwing twigs and branches at it. I look over at Ray and he is on his hands and knees puking.
Ray never took up hunting.

 

[JRuby]

I worked a while back with a guy I took out to hunt in the Mist area. He brings his AR15 to hunt Black Tail with. We get out to where we are going to hunt well before light. I ask him what bullet he is using and all I hear is full metal jacket. That's illegal so I hand him my multi tool and he starts cutting off the tips and trying to make soft points. We never saw anything. I will take the hit on this as he was new to deer hunting. I was expecting that a new guy would read the regs.

 

[P7M13]

1978
We were juniors in HS, and my good friend Bobby had a deer tag and was looking for some friends to go hunting with. I didn't have a tag and had never deer hunted before but had been up to this spot he wanted to go outside of Dufur OR that was known as Uncle Fricky's Ranch 3 or 4 times before and had great fun hunting pheasants and quail and agreed to go, also talked our friend Ray into going along although he was not a hunter.
We left on a Friday after school and after a short 3 hour drive in Bobby's 61, 4 door Impala blasting Judas Priest on his Pioneer Super Tuner with the bass turned low and the treble on high the whole way there.
The ranch was a paradise of around 500 acres 1/2 of it wooded with an old vacant 1920's house that was spartan yet had running water and electricity and a wood stove, a stereo with 6 foot tall speakers. We of course spent that night getting lit up.
Next morning were up bright and early and Bob is ready to get after it, we dragged Ray out of his cot and all hopped into the Impala to take a short mile drive through the ranch to get to where Bobby wanted to start his hunt.
Once again Bobby insist on cranking Judas and when we get to where Bob wants to start, he continues to just drive around in the Impala, next thing I know were cruising down a dry creek bed, Bob is driving, I'm riding shotgun, and a very queasy hung over Raymond is getting tossed around a bit in the back seat.
Stereo blasting rolling up this wash and I am thinking, no way in hell or we going to see anything. Then sure enough Bob and I spot a doe on the driver side of the vehicle just standing there with a what the hell are they doing look on his face 30 feet away.
Bobby slams the car to a stop and reaches for his 30-30 which is muzzle down between us, I put my left hand out to keep the muzzle from pointing my way while Bob excitedly grabs it and wrestles it out the driver side window and I use my right hand to open the car door because I knew things were about to get much louder then the stereo.
I got half way out before the blast of the rifle and by the time I turned to look the deer was down and flopping through it's death throws.
Bob is out of the car jumping around looking at the down deer and figuring his next move, Ray is in the back seat still in total shock, and I just watch.
Bob is freaking out cause he forgot his hunting knife, he had been taught that the proper way to finish a deer was by slicing it's throat.
Ray is out of the car now, Bob picks back up his rifle cause the deer was still trembling (his first shot was money, he hit the doe right below the head in the neck) and starts to shout Die, Die and shoots the deer three more times in the throat simulating a knife cut.
A few minutes go by and the deer is done trembling, Ray is still in shock and all our ears are ringing and then comes Bambi.
Bob flips out on Bambi trying to get it to leave, cursing at it, throwing twigs and branches at it. I look over at Ray and he is on his hands and knees puking.
Ray never took up hunting.

Great story.
I read that, and envision the redneck nightmare version contrasted to Bruce Springsteen's Spirit in the Night.

@Tarawa86 , Elle there has some serious Baba-doo-ba-wee-bop!

 

[clearconscience]

A friend of my stepdads was telling me a hunting story of him and his work buddy deer hunting. They are driving down a road and see a nice buck, so they jump out on different sides of the road and start walking, my dad's buddy goes up the left side and is moving fast.
He gets about 40 yards ahead of the other guys and see the buck, he's behind a tree ready to shoot when BOOM! Comes from behind him.

He looks back and sees his buddy across the road with eyes as wide as saucers.

He starts yelling and cussing.
His buddy got buck fever so bad he focused in on the buck and never saw his hunting partner in between him and the buck. Shot straight at him.
Scray thing was when they got back to the truck he found a hole through his shirt. By some God given miracle the bullet went through the side of his shirt and missed him.

He quit hunting after that.

 

[clearconscience]

I'm all for getting people into hunting and shooting, but I have two rules.
Know and live by firearms safety.
Be proficient before you go hunting.
And the first trip hunting you go as a spectator. No rifle, no tag.
Just watch learn and see what your in for.
Especially in the PNW. It's cold and wet. The woods are thick. So moving through them on a dry warm day can be hard. Add the cold and drenching wet to it and it's down right miserable.



And I always carry a pistol with me! ALWAYS!
If not for 4 legged threats, for 2 legged ones!

 

[PNWguy]

I grew up hunting in Idaho and since moving to Washington, I gave it up.

I still go with my dad and brother in Idaho and we do alright. I just help with the stalk and the packing out and they give me all the meat I want.

No crazy stories, no near misses. Just a lot of great memories of being in the woods...

 

[Alexx1401]

Why take a pistol along while hunting?

I have always taken a pistol when going out for anything, even hunting. For me it was not for 4 legged "threats" but 2 legged. Seems no matter how far "out" you go now and then you run into others. Of course the pistol I carried was always unseen too. for many years when this state was a "May issue" that was always my answer when asked why do you want a permit. That I carry a handgun when hunting.

 

[Alexx1401]

I grew up hunting in Idaho and since moving to Washington, I gave it up.

I still go with my dad and brother in Idaho and we do alright. I just help with the stalk and the packing out and they give me all the meat I want.

No crazy stories, no near misses. Just a lot of great memories of being in the woods...

View attachment 549204

View attachment 549205

DAMN NICE!!! Need some help packing those trophy's out of the woods!