Have you ever had a “well, there goes the hunt” moment?

Yep, in 2001 i was walking down a wide trail on Quanah Parker range when a buck that scored at least 180 points stopped on the trail at a distance of about 50 yards. Carefully raised my scope sighted muzzleloader, pulled the trigger and experienced a long hangfire. When that #11 cap went off the buck jumped at least 15 feet.

While headed to our hunting property in my 96 silverado lt discussing the advantages of a 35 over a 30-30 a deer hit our bright red 16ft trailer going about 45mph puncturing the tire and screwing up the fender, the deputy laughed when he noticed we were going hunting and allowed us to keep the deer so at least we got something that day. I still slow down and look when I get to that spot.

Every time the hogs show up it's game over. I always have to see how many I can take down with the bolt gun before they are all gone and they are quick to. Nobody where I hunt wants them anymore so it then becomes drag them off to feed the scavengers...

Was on the trail of a very nice buck I had spotted.
In the POURING rain.
I was close. Watched water filling into his tracks.
As I approached a side to side opening in the brush I knew I had a choice to make.
Since I figured he would slow to check his backtrail I chose to look left first.
The buck was standing to my right, watching me as I slowly turned my head to look.
He had seen enough and so ended the hunt.

JT

I have had permission to hunt a small, 250 acre, parcel for several years. 3 years ago the landowner sent me a text of a really nice 4X4 mule deer on a different parcel and said hey you want to hunt here. Well of course I did. He showed me around and a few weeks later my wife and I went over there to scout for the upcoming season. On the way home we hit a deer and did enough damage to the truck we couldn't get it fixed in time to hunt. End of hunt for that year.

Many times, both for deer and Turkey. Sometimes it truly was the end of the hunt and sometimes the game proved me wrong. Sometimes getting that set-up bumped or messing it up myself made me try another set-up or area where I had success that may otherwise wouldn't have happened that day. It truly isn't over till it's over.

About 25 years ago or so I was deer hunting with my brother in law and a group of his friends. They had just gotten permission to hunt some posted property so we gave it a try one afternoon. None of the group had been on the property and no scouting had been done, but the area had not been hunted in some time. We all went our separate ways, and eventually I settled into a spot on a tree line where I could both the field and into the woods bordering it. Then it started to rain, lightly at first and then harder. A nice cold mid-November rain in northern New England. No rain gear or waterproof clothing on, but I decide to stick it out--to persevere in the face of adversity or something like that.. Got to the last 15 minutes or so of legal shooting, and was convinced that a buck was going to step out. Heard something coming--Oboy!--and then I see one of the other guys in the group making a straight line for me, moving at a decidedly non-stalking pace. As he approaches he asks those two magic words "See anything?", followed by his description of how he hadn't seen anything. As I contemplated my response, I considered how my cold afternoon sitting in the rain has just been rendered useless. I said "Not yet". I got him to sit down and be quiet the last few minutes of light, but it didn't matter. I was pretty irritated as we trudged back to the vehicles, but I elected not to say anything as I knew his work schedule meant he would not be hunting with us again. Find out later on that he had gotten turned around in the unfamiliar woods and was pretty relieved to spot someone.

.38 Special said:

I once spent three hours stalking into iron-sighted revolver range and then inhaled some bit of something and went into a violent coughing fit. At least I learned that I had done a good job with the stalk, as the woods exploded into what seemed like a million critters headed every which way.

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^^^^^
Haha....I know EXACTLY what that is like. One bow season (many moons ago) I was up in my hang on stand with my longbow. Couple of nice sized does came feeding in right under me. I picked out the one presenting the best angle and as I drew my arrow.....I managed to inhale a gnat and immediately went into an uncontrollable coughing episode. You wouldn't think something so small would cause such a reaction but it was awful. Learned to just breath through my nose after that. Had to laugh a bit AFTER I finally, expelled the critter, regained my breath and wiped the tears from eyes (yes it was that bad).

Just take a camera man along, the unhidable lens is just a big eye of doom to most animals.

If you film Hunting for a living, “well, there goes the hunt” is a pretty common occurence.......Holy scheeze....my font??

Well since Im here, Ill say that before filming the same thoughts usually played out when some idiot opens a jug in the camp.........

whats up with this font.....?

I've got 2 that come especially to mind. One was when I was relatively young. 19 or 20, away at college. Really my first time hunting deer "on my own," away from the party of family and friends that had driven and posted the same central MN brushlands since prohibition. I was trying out some of those fancy hunting techniques I had read about, like stalking and still hunting. I was young and dumb, so I was covering lots of territory on the fringe of the Boundary Waters. My plan this particular day, was to follow a high, rocky ridge about 2 miles to a power line, then the power line the remaining 1.5 miles to the road where a buddy would pick me up after sunset. While approaching the road, still (barely) in legal shooting hours, I saw a decent buck standing in the open, looking away! Distance was about 300 yards, and a dogleg in the power line right there made for a safe shot, not towards the road. It was a poke for my .308, but with a solid rest over the power pole cribbing, I felt confident and squeezed off a shot. The deer just stood there, so I bolted in another round, held slightly higher and fired again. At the second shot, I heard a shout and spotted a game warden waiving a blaze orange glove frantically and yelling "cease fire" at the edge of the power line. I had put 2 rounds through their mechanized decoy placed to catch road shooters. They never suspected anyone would cover several miles of broken terrain and approach from the back side of their post to shoot their decoy!

The second was on public land across from my Sister's house. About a half mile walk into the land from her back door. She had a cat. The half hour before shooting hours, I kept thinking I heard a cat meowing in the woods. Sure enough, at a half hour before sunrise, here comes Sarah, strolling up to my tree stump and mewing a happy greeting. Was alright for awhile, until the squirrels woke up. Every time some leaves crunched, she'd slink off to stalk one, then howl angrily when they went up a tree. Apparently she hated deer, as when a fawn showed up, she raced off hissing and yowling to challenge the deer and chase it off. I just packed up my stuff and headed back, cat following at my side like a faithful dog. On future hunts, I made sure the cat was locked up before heading into the woods.

Years ago my son was taking aim at what would have been his first buck when the landowner drove by and parked about three hundred yards behind the deer. He just sat there looking at the deer but he knew we were in the stand. He had placed the deer in between us. Later he asked why didn't we shoot. I replied, "because we might have killed you." He wasn't very smart and that ended our association.

My "I am done" moment came when I was hunting squirrels at a friend's family property. The area I was working has a small group of pecan trees in a small dip, with a large shrub in top of the overlooking hill. I set up my folding chair and small table just inside the hedge, and realized I was in the middle of a large patch of poison ivy. The tree rats got to live another day, and I spent the day washing clothes and soaking in caladryl wishing for death.

Choctaw said:

Years ago my son was taking aim at what would have been his first buck when the landowner drove by and parked about three hundred yards behind the deer. He just sat there looking at the deer but he knew we were in the stand. He had placed the deer in between us. Later he asked why didn't we shoot. I replied, "because we might have killed you." He wasn't very smart and that ended our association.

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Kudos to your son for passing on the shot. Mine too, my older one, passed on what would have been his first deer with a firearm because he had seen a hunter go into the copse behind the deer, and hadn't seen him come out. We must have raised 'em right, eh?

Was squirrel hunting in my favorite spot. Sitting beneath a large white oak. Scanning the trees, heard a small twig snap looked over and saw a grey fox. Just sat there watching each other. I moved my rifle to its general area incase it charges. And it took off. Same scenario a few months later only this time it was a red fox. Went and found its den. Not sure if they where "together".

Publishers clearning house scam call about 6-7 years ago.
I was sitting on the side of the mountain watching a herd of sheep, and expecting a work call....call came in and it was your friendly Indian accented Publishers clearing house rep informing me that Id won the million dollar sweepstakes. I said something like "sorry bro, cant talk to you today" and the guy shouts F!@# YOU, F!@# YOU, F!@# YOU, quick as he could and hangs up. Surprised me so bad I started laughing.

Even from 400-500yds out I guess the sheep heard me and ran off.

oh and the ubiquitous "CLICK" of a firing pin falling on an empty chamber since the operator forgot to put a round in magazine when he left the truck......that ones always fun.

My there goes that hunt moment happened on Saturday, opening day of duck. 1st shot of the season dropped a large woody; second shot wad stuck in the choke of my SBE2. Ducks dive-bombing me for 5 minutes as I tried to disassemble the barrel to clear the obstruction, I bail for fear of dropping the bolt in the swamp, so I go back to land, another 10 minutes clearing the wad and the stick I broke in the barrel trying to push the wad out. Reassemble, back into the swamp, shot 3, wad stuck.... back to the bank, another 10 minutes to disassemble and then the mag tube spring retainer, plug, and spring go flying off into the woods. I managed to find the plug, threw it back in the tube, and proceed back into the swamp with a single shot Benelli but by that time, the gunning time was over, only sky-high birds. I spent the rest of the morning helping the other hunters (public land) who didn't have a dog. Apparently good deeds are rewarded. On the hike back to the truck I found another large woody just laying in the field. I guess it was flying dead. After a morning of frustration, this picture made it worth it.

I like to have several options when I am planning a deer season but this guy was taken off the list because of a broken main beam on the left antler. He would have been a later choice at the end of the season but that choice is gone. He's really a healthy impressive old buck at over 200 pounds body weight but he may be bigger next year. In this picture he is loosing his summer hair and his winter hair is just starting to grow.

20+ years ago the wife and I got a morning late start and drove through dense Oklahoma fog to the hunting spot. Got there safely, geared up and I went to put something behind the seat of the truck. HOOOONK goes the horn, as the head rest hits the button, echoing through the fog and the hills around us. Wife looks at me, I look at her, we both shrug and head to the stands. She got a nice little buck about an hour later after the fog lifted.
Go figure...

Fall turkey season last week. I had been up 3 weeks before and located a flock about 9 miles off the pavement near 3 water tanks. I planned to hunt the line between the 3 tanks to re-locate them and set up a strategy from there. Mostly the North part of that line as that is where the turkeys were last seen. Opening morning 4 hunters are camped 600 yards from the North water tank and have a ground blind on that water. That's fair, it is public land and the line I'm planning to hunt is a mile and a half long between the 3 water tanks. Unfortunately the middle water has dried up in the 3 weeks since my scouting trip and there is absolutely not a single turkey track on the South water tank. Opening morning the 4 hunters see the flock come into the North water tank and take an ill-advised shot at over 70 yards. Then the other three spend the day brush busting to find the flock. Lord knows where that flock ended up. That hunt was over then and there.

They spent the next 6 days with 1 sitting in the ground blind and the other three brush busting the area and I never saw that flock again. I should have had a back up strategy.

Nope. Best that I know is game animals don't move indoors when bothered, so if they are still out there, you always have an opportunity.

Some people give up too easy. Had a 'neighbor' scare of a gobbler in the field with 2 hens. He wasn't coming to me and I was 100 yards away. As soon as they scattered into the woods, I moved close the spot where the gobbler went in at. Waited 10 mins and give him a bunch of hen calls. Out he cam e in a run and to a swat of #4's.

You can't kill them from your couch, mostly.

Realizing that your new, fancy, expensive pointing dog sucks at what it's supposed to do takes the cake in my book. Just spent quite a few days up north hunting grouse (and moose), and the only ptarmigan and capercaillie I shot happened when we left the dog in the car and walked on our own.

If the dog doesn't hunt after three years of moderate training and exposure to upland fowling, it'll never hunt in its lifetime. She just got retired and will remain as a housepet. As a comparison, her predecessor retired after 11+ years and 400+ notoriously-difficult-to-hunt-species birds under her belt. Five during her first year as a puppy. This one has zero in three years. Some contrast, huh?

Damn. I really need another puppy. Another long-haired Weimaraner or maybe a Slovakian rough-haired Pointer this time? It'll be a major PITA to train one anyway so any way you look at it, I'm *honk*ed.

I’v had two both this year.first year crossbow hunting.on Thursday I stopped where I bought my crossbow and found out it was a takedown and they had a new case for it that fit great on my motorcycle.Spint Friday trying it out taking it apart and putting it together then shooting it just to be sure..Saturday Was the day took my bow apart packed my bike and rode miles on trails to the SPOT. I went to put the bow together and could not find the the round doohickey.65 miles round trip to replace it.Saturday gone caint hunt on Sunday in Maine so more practice.Monday is the day same as before long wonderful ride on trails unpack the bike set my bow down to set up my stand.go to cock the bow no cocking string.Never had these problems with a longbow.I had a good laugh at myself.
Both were still fun days and a good ride though the Maine woods.

My son got transferred out of state so before he moved he bought a resident lifetime license(legal). He drove 250 miles back here to hunt with me on our farm and discovered he'd left his deer tag at home.

I've himmed and hawed at telling this story after reading this thread but decided to share... so here goes...

Back in the day when our hunting crew was much younger, young and dumb and full of... well, you know, partying was just as important as hunting! We hunted hard (and still do) but at the end of the day after supper the beer and booze would come out. Sometimes it would make for a long evening, but somehow we would still get up well before day light to hunt.

This particular time was a morning of bacon and pancakes for breakfast Rule of thumb at camp is a 1/4 pound of bacon per person. Well, one can imagine that produces a lot of grease.

"Let's deep-fry those pancakes" I said.

Well, I and another had the first two cakes and the grease was gone! (Tasted great,but probably not healthy)

That evening when Gary asked how our hunt had gone that day, both Scott and I replied that we barely got our trousers off in time! WOW!!!

Did not completely ruin either of our hunts but was truly a stupid learning experience!

Yesterday. Went in for an angiogram to prepare for aortic valve replacement. Found out I have one artery to the heart 100% blocked, another 80%. Won't be a trans catheter job now. Open heart recovery will about wipe out deer season this year. As the cubs fans say, "Wait til next year". (At 76, the number of "next years" is dwindling)
At least they found it, hopefully in time. I've got another grandson on the way to see.