no way, man, that is such rubbish!

4 with one shot?

I grew up hunting ducks and geese on the Eastern Shore of Virginia and have seen things happen that are beyond belief. Like the time I was hunting with my Dad and the weather was terrible for ducks, bright and sunny and about 60 degrees (that usually equates to zero ducks where we hunt). Dad had gotten to the point of absolute frustration and decided to call it a day. So he climbs out of the blind ditches his coat exposing his bright white under-shirt. He's standing in about mid-calf depth water when about 20 mallards came barreling into our decoy spread, one of which almost landed on his head. I was in such disbelief that not a single duck fell from that group.

Fast forward to last fall, Dad and I are at the sporting clays range. It was a nice day so there were a bunch of people on out shooting. We walked up to a doubles station and had to wait on the group ahead of us. So this clown gets up there who looks like this might be the first time he's ever fired a gun. He cries, "pull" and the clays fly. 'BOOM!', both clays explode. Ole boy turns around with a grin from ear to ear, as anyone would. Then he opens his mouth, "Yeah, that was easy. I mean, one time when I was shooting geese out in Arkansas we had a flock come in and I got four with one shot." He said all this with a completely straight face.

Dad and I looked at each other and both just shrugged.

That's duck hunting for you, we don't go into the decoy spread without taking a shot gun, we have leaned that as soon as you leave the blind or hit the middle of the decoy spread to fix that one decoy, you are going to get dive bombed by a flight of ducks.

apparently it is against their rules to look at them while they circle, but its ok to walk through the decoys, just don't look at them.

Part one: the all popular story about the deer/elk that was hit with one shot, hit the ground, only to stand back up when the shooter got close. Usually found later the said cervine was merely hit on the antler and only knocked out for a minute. I have never seen this happen but hear the same theme many a time in hunt camp.

Part two: growing up in Idaho, and in the mountains of Idaho at that, we used to tag out, on opening day, less than two miles from home. Pop, brother, and I. Before the huge influx of people in the 90's, we used to be able to keep an eye on the herds. Know which valleys and draws they were in. Park near by, walk in at dawn, each pick one, do a three-count, fire one round each, go home with 300+ pounds of venison for the year. Now, with for too many people and these vile wolves, getting skunked the entire season is the likely outcome.

1. I tend not to hunt with BS-ers and when I hear what I believe is a lie I tend to not remember it having discounted it as...rubbish. When I was a kid though, I don't remember who told the story but it was a man and he was talking about a story that his dad supposedly lived. Something to the effect of:
"My dad shot a deer one time and it ran out of sight over a steep hill with some rock ledges. When he got to the hill he could see the buck down there below and dad was straight above him on the ledge. So he pulled his knife and hopped on his back like a horse and procedded to slit its throat." Of course there was some parralells to bull riding and he got a little beat up but got the job done nonetheless. Then, of course, they found his original buck dead of a gunshot wound and he had killed this other previously healthy buck with a knife and his bare hands. And, of course, they were both nice bucks. Nothing unbelievable about that story, right?

2. One time I was archery deer hunting and could see a small herd of elk (8-10 cows and calves) feeding towards me through the forest so I just sat down and leaned back on a rock to watch them with my bow to my side. I'll be darned if they didn't feed right to me and I ended up in the herd! The main herd passed me on my right but one cow lagged back and litterally fed right to me. Like to my feet. As this was happening, 2 calves came over from the herd and were directly to my right. The wind was such that they could probably smell me but the cow in front of me could not. They were young calves and I was only watching them from my peripheral vision because I couldn't move my head, but I could tell they were getting nervous as to what I was. One of them all but touched its nose to my dangling shirt sleeve. They were hemming and hawing about what to do and walked a few yards away but mom was totally oblivious, eating furiously at my feet. At this point I was not feeling too good about being directly between 2 elk calves and a grown cow that were no more than 5 yards apart. The cow was feeding directly at my feet, I could see her eyelashes and see the breath from her nose moving pine needles and oak leaves. I could hear her chewing. I could have kicked her in the face with my boot. As soon as she took a step parallel to me she caught a whiff of me and she startled and jumped a few yards away. It was enough to make her get back to the herd although I still don't think she saw me. My body was getting pretty tired from staying so still for like 10-15 minutes and after awhile I sat up and got up to leave. As I turned around the cow was jumping over the fence that was ~50 yards behind me and that's where the rest of the herd was. They all just stared at me, like they were plumb amazed that I just appeared out of nowhere. They let me walk away, they didn't run. It was one of the most amazing things I've ever done out in the woods. I doubt I'll ever get that close to an elk again.

This is a story that has been repeated at least once during every deer season in my family for as long as I can remember. While the cast have long been gone, the story, at least in our family lives on.



Back in the late 40's, my parents and grandfather were hunting whitetails on my granddad's farm in rural Wisconsin. As usual, at the end of the day they made a "the push" around "Peanut Hill" to my mom on the way to pick her up for the walk home. After hearing gunshots, my dad and grandfather approached my mom walking up and down a deer trail lookin' for blood. When the reached her she told them this amazing story of a small fawn, still with spots with a huge set of antlers, still in velvet that basically walked up to her. She watched it for several minutes wonderin' if it was even legal to shoot, but remembered the regs said "one antler at least three inches in length", so she raised the old '97 and sent a slug at it. A few small drops of blood in the snow revealed she had indeed hit the deer and they tracked it till dark until they lost the trail in the nearby swamp. My dad and gramps didn't really believe the story of the fawn with spots sporting a huge set of antlers, but the story soon spread and became the talk of the town. One day the owner from the "dude ranch" next door stopped by the farm and said he had heard of the sighting of a "strange" deer from the owner of the local feed mill. He then told my grandpa that he had recently had some Axis deer escape from captivity and they looked similar to what my mother had shot at. He then told gramps that the deer had been captured the next day after they escaped, and one of the buck's had been grazed across the back by a hunter. You have to realize that back in the 40's the majority of folks living in rural Wisconsin had not ever heard of an Axis deer, much less seen one. It was a tough piece of crow pie my dad and gramps had to swallow. Later on, when the buck dropped it's antlers, the neighbor gave them to my mom as a souvenir and were forever after known as "the little one that got away".

Up in N/E Wisconsin, I remember my Dad telling me about "Crazy Albert Scwartz" who used to hunt deer with a knife, sitting in an old oak tree. When the deer would come under him he would jump on it's back and slit the deers throat with his knife. Now my Dad passed away about 20 years ago so I never did think to ask if this was a true story or not, knowing my Dad as I did I would think not.

The dumbest "hunting" story I've ever heard was from a guy who claimed to have hit a huge bull elk with a .17 HMR at 600 yards through a truck window. I didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

Weirdest woods story for me was when I was a kid, chasing a flock of turkeys on foot being led by a huge Peacock. No, I have no idea why I was chasing them, no, I never caught any of them, and no, I don't have any idea why a Peacock had taken up with a flock of turkeys. Just very bizarre all the way around.

bad_aim_billy said:

The dumbest "hunting" story I've ever heard was from a guy who claimed to have hit a huge bull elk with a .17 HMR at 600 yards through a truck window. I didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

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Why was the elk in a truck?

Patocazador said:

Why was the elk in a truck?

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He was making the beer run for deer camp.

I can't think of any examples of #1 right off hand, but #2 certainly. This past deer season, I made a PERFECT headshot on a trophy mule deer buck. We're talking instant kill, dead before he hit the ground. Would have made an awesome story....if I wasn't attempting a standard shoulder shot under the influence of buck fever unlike any case I've had in the last 15 years LOL. I was shocked to see the deer collapse so hard, and even more shocked when I actually found the bullet hole. A pretty major "oopsy"....but I've never flubbed a shot so perfectly!

I don't have a hunting story, but I DO have a "getting ready for hunting" story.
I was in K Mart once looking at hunting supplies. I picked up a bottle of red fox urine, and while I was reading it the bottle slipped out of my hands and busted on the floor. The only thing I really remember more than anything else is this lady with a cart hauling butt AWAY from me. Man I left the area post haste

Th yarn we'es told as youngins was the folks that lived by Lost Creek bridge had a boy fond of swimmin. After hours of his bein late for supper the search for the kid was on. After searchin all nite, the neighbors an such gave up an called the authorities. The followin day the body was found neath the bridge with hundrerds of Cottonmouth bites an a few wus still attached.

I'm sure my family told this story to stop us kids from swimming without grown folks around.

As a boy I did see a very large diamondback dead floating in that creek. I'll say that snake was better than 6 feet long and 7 inches in diameter. I've repeated that story for 25 years and no one believes me. James, a coworker of mine, has also heard the same tale (rolling his eyes in disbelief). James and I were on the ride home from work recently and noticed a rather large diamondback ran over in the road. At a distance I thought it was a dog as an other motorist was poking it with a stick. Upon passing by the scene James offered an apology. The snake we saw dead and mangled was nearly as long as I had stated and larger in girth.

Part one: the all popular story about the deer/elk that was hit with one shot, hit the ground, only to stand back up when the shooter got close. Usually found later the said cervine was merely hit on the antler and only knocked out for a minute. I have never seen this happen but hear the same theme many a time in hunt camp.

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I've been there and done that in regards to this story. When I was about 15 or so, I got it in my head that I was going to hunt deer with my SKS. I actually did hrvest several mule deer in a 3-4 year period with it, but one story stands out. Dad dropped three of us off at various branches of a canyon system, and proceeded to maneuver to the bottom where the 3 branches converged to block. Shortly after I started walking, a nice mule deer buck trotted out below me about 75 yards or so. I took careful aim, squeezed, and the deer went rolling down into the bottom of the canyon. I thought for sure I'd find him there, and worst case scenario, Dad could pick him off as he exited the canyon. Well, I got to the bottom, and not only no deer, but no sign of blood, etc. I finished walking out the canyon and asked dad why he didn't shoot the buck that had tpo have come out. "Well, son, there were three deer that came out of the draw....two does, and one decent buck....but he only had antlers on one side!" "Well, dad, when I SHOT him, he had both horns!!" Appearently, I shot him in the antler and it hit with enough force to send him rolling. However, dad aid he showed NO signs of any other injury as he made his escape. Another time, I shot a mule deer buck, only to see him start shaking his head, rubbing it on the ground momentarily, before taking off. I followed, thinking I had to have made a hit, and got another shot, which did exactly what it was supposed to......my first shot, however, created a perfect hole right though his right ear......

Jack O'Conner reported shooting a deer "between the hams" that was running directly away from him. He said the shot placement was so perfect that there was no evidence of the entry wound. He didn't claim to have done it on purpose. I grew up reading O'Conner in Outdoor Life and have many of his books. I believe the story.

Best one I've heard I think was that a bullet mushrooms before it hits the animal.
We all have amazing story's of shots made or things that happen in the woods throught the years. One I saw was a shot on a mule deer I don't remember the distance but I'm shoure it was over 100 yds the deer was bounding through high grass so that when it was down on the ground you couldn't see it and when you could see it all you could see was his head and part of his neck. Garry timed the shot and when the deer didn't come back up we knew something had happend. When we recoverd the deer the bullet went in one eye and out the other. Garry said that he had missed!! What the bullet went in one eye and out the other what could be better than that. Garry said that he was aiming for his ears.
Gary shot a 3006 with a peep sight Garry is gone now but he knew his rifle and he could shoot.
Flip

My father told the story of a lady who was hunting on the ranch with my father and a few others. She shot a buck and tied the tag on. The buck jumped up and ran--and jumped the fence into a neighboring ranch where a couple of hunters saw the buck and one of them shot and killed it.

As they're walking toward the buck, here came the lady, screaming, "That's my buck! That's my buck!"

"What do you mean, it's your buck? I just shot and killed it!"

"It has my tag on it!"

Sure enough, there was the tag.

"Dang, lady. Anybody who can run that fast deserves a deer."

As soon as people find out that I'm "into guns," they all have to start telling me about 1000 yard shots they've made, etc. I guess they think they're gonna impress me.

Mine was last year's bow season. There was a little field mouse rooting around, about 5 or 6 yards behind the place I was standing. This little thing was making a quite a bit of noise, and every time it did, I'd turn around to look. But really, that's more movement than you really want when you're just standing on the ground, so i decided to ignore it. After a while, I hear more noise behind me, and resolutely decide to stay still. Eventually, I decide that this is more noise than any mouse has a right to make, so, rather irritated, I turn to look. Being irritated, I turned kinda quick, which was unfortunate. This time it wasn't the mouse, but seven or eight does. The leader was about eight yards away when they bugged out. I watched 'em go over my pins, but I didn't want to clean up the mess of a Texas heart shot, and they didn't stop or turn til they got to about 70 yards.

I guess that's less a rubbish story than just embarrassing, admitting that the hunter got snuck up on by the deer.

I guess that's less a rubbish story than just embarrassing, admitting that the hunter got snuck up on by the deer.

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Embarrassing? HA! I get snuck up on all the time. I'd throw a 'that's rubbish' at anyone who claims they've never been snuck up on. It's whether or not they bust you. Again, I invite anyone to claim they've never been busted.

Been busted twice! By hogs. Hunting out of our Jeep, we'd focus on the feeder at the woodline and just happen to shine the spot near us and run them off from 50 ft away. Twice...

My "that never happened" shot was with a 30.06 I inherited. There was a bird in flight about 100 yards away. I called the shot then hit it. In case you call BS on that one, I did too after I did it! But, it happened regardless.

I had a guy tell me once, that he only hunted squirrels with 22 shorts because he could get under a nest and shoot up into it lifting the squirrels out of the nest and knocking them to the ground with the shorts. He said that a short done this, but a 22 lr would just pass right through and kill them in the nest and you could never get them out. Followed up by an affirming "Daddy showed me that trick years ago".

part 2. I was around 14 or 15 years old and was deer hunting with a muzzleloader. A decent little buck showed up and I flipped into buck fever, I had never killed a buck before this. I took aim, but was bouncing all over the place, the shot went off and the buck went down, partially. The buck started pulling itself down hill with its front two legs, I knew I had hit it high and by the time I reloaded my muzzleloader the buck had pulled itself over a 15-18 foot drop off. I didn't want the deer to suffer so I rush down to wear it had fallen over the rock and was going to finish it off in a hurry. When I got to the small cliff, to my suprise, the buck jumped up on all fours and dashed through the brush. I tracked it a little ways but the blood was few and far between and thinned as I tracked. I never did find that deer, nor did I hear of anyone else ever finding it. I think I may have just skinned across its back, temporarily paralyzing it.

When I was about 12 or 13 my Dad was harvesting corn in a field next to a ditch. Two locals were poised and ready on the ditchbank with muzzle loaders waiting for the combine to scare out the "legend buck" that every redneck in three counties had been trying to harvest for at least three years.

As the two watched the corn in front of the combine, the deer walked slowly down the bank on the other side of the ditch even stopping to graze from time to time. Would you believe one of the guys actually had the nerve to shush me when I started giggling? I'm glad I didn't tell them! Glad I say!!!

#1) A coworker of mine claims he one-shotted a coyote broadside while it was at a dead run at 875 yards. This was also reportedly accomplished from a standing position with his .30-06 deer rifle. I've seen him shoot. This did not happen. I almost pushed the issue by asking what his elevation correction and lead were for this shot, but decided it wasn't worth the effort.

A few years ago a friend and I drew tags for Montana antelope. During a pre- season scouting trip we starting hiking up a game trail and spotted a huge antelope buck walking down the same trail at us. I motioned my friend to sit down and not move. Within a few minutes the buck not only walked up to us but starting sniffing us. He eventually walked (not running) away like we were just another rock. During the season neither one of us shot anything close to him in size.

My doctor shot two spike bull elk in Montana a few years ago and didn't realize he'd done so until his hunting partner noticed the other elk laying a few yards away. The second guy ended up tagging the "extra" bull.

Ok. A story that if it would have been told by anyone other than my Dad, I would not have believed.

My Dad was deer hunting with his 870 a few years back, had two tags and Antler and an Antlerless tag. Getting near dark he sees a doe come out in the field about 50 yards away. She stops and starts grazing. He waits a few minutes to make sure there arent more, but doesnt want to miss his shot, last day of season. He lines up and takes her down with one shot.

It seemed clean so he waited in the stand for a few minutes knowing we would hear his shot and come to him anyway. While waiting a buck comes out, very large(when we butchered we weighed and field dressed he went 201lbs! 15pts!). He walks out to the doe, sniffs her, then gets down on the ground and starts mounting her. My dad sat in disbelief watching this. The buck got up, circled her a few times sniffing, and got down and went at it again. By now my dad had regained his composure and shot the big boy.

This deer hangs in my Dads front room mounted on a backer of the state of IL with a small brass tag on it that reads "Happy." We couldnt think of a better name.