anyone got any good stories
- Thread starter ace
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A few years back, my next-door neighbor took his overweight house-pet black lab for a grouse hunt. He'd convinced a handful of guys from around the block to go up north a bit and spend a weekend looking for grouse, playing poker and drinking beer (after the guns were put away for the day).
Anyway, the first day was a bust. I don't think they saw a single bird all day, but they did get to bust through a bunch of really heavy cover and lose some precious bodily fluids to greenbriars and sundry thornbushes.
The next day, they finally got into a couple of birds, but had trouble getting a decent shot at one. Finally, late in the day, a guy dropped on on the other side of a small but deep creek. My neighbor ordered the dog to fetch. She looked at him like he'd lost his mind. He yelled. She sat. He yelled more. She laid down.
Red-faced, he picked up the dog (no mean feat as she was nearly round and probably weighed 120#) and threw her into the stream. With great disdain, she paddled to the other side and promptly picked up the downed bird.
Whereupon she faced towards the group of hunters and ate it.
Anyway, the first day was a bust. I don't think they saw a single bird all day, but they did get to bust through a bunch of really heavy cover and lose some precious bodily fluids to greenbriars and sundry thornbushes.
The next day, they finally got into a couple of birds, but had trouble getting a decent shot at one. Finally, late in the day, a guy dropped on on the other side of a small but deep creek. My neighbor ordered the dog to fetch. She looked at him like he'd lost his mind. He yelled. She sat. He yelled more. She laid down.
Red-faced, he picked up the dog (no mean feat as she was nearly round and probably weighed 120#) and threw her into the stream. With great disdain, she paddled to the other side and promptly picked up the downed bird.
Whereupon she faced towards the group of hunters and ate it.
sm
member
Pop's Last Dove Shoot....
http://thefiringline.com/forums/showthread.php?s=&threadid=143537
Ruark's The Old Man and the Boy and its sequel.
Corey Ford's The North Forty.
http://thefiringline.com/forums/showthread.php?s=&threadid=143537
Ruark's The Old Man and the Boy and its sequel.
Corey Ford's The North Forty.
Sgt Stevo
Member
Hummer boar
In 2001 I was training with a unit in the camp roberts NG base. we were driving out to a range. A family of hogs crossed the road. As my 1st SGt started to drive again, he slammed into huge boar. I jumped out the right and ended it with cold steel tanto.
we gutted it on a cherry picker in the motor pool. And had a range BBQ for the boys that night.
Six months later as we sat in the Stans eating crappy MRE stuff, the boys would still bring it up.
I never found much to eat along the roads over thee though.
In 2001 I was training with a unit in the camp roberts NG base. we were driving out to a range. A family of hogs crossed the road. As my 1st SGt started to drive again, he slammed into huge boar. I jumped out the right and ended it with cold steel tanto.
we gutted it on a cherry picker in the motor pool. And had a range BBQ for the boys that night.
Six months later as we sat in the Stans eating crappy MRE stuff, the boys would still bring it up.
I never found much to eat along the roads over thee though.
30-06 lover
Member
Story isn't as good as I thought...sorry.
Last edited:
deciple-of-keith
Member
It seems like a hundred years ago now ,but at the ripe Old age of 17 I got a start in a Water Buff camp in the North Of Australia ! I'd been working as a Pro Hunter for about 3 yrs at this stage of my life starting at 14 as a Rabbit shooter's offsider & had graduated to being a Rabbit shooter & was just getting involved in the Roo shooting Industry! But Damn this was the Big Time 
! Yep I was going North with a Gent who had shot for many years with my Dad! It was hm that had convinced my Parents it would make a man out of me & convince me that there was no future in Pro shooting( Sometimes wished I listened to my parents now ) WOW talk about a reality check ! WE could use any cal we liked providing it was a .303 as this is what the Boss supplied ammo for & there was a lotto running t see how long I'd last ! But undunted I set out to make my mark on the Brovine Population ! I will never forget the First Buff I ever incounted ! I came out of thick scrub to find myself only a matter of yards from a large Bull !
I had never seen a creature as large & had been fed every horror story you can think of since I was a kid ! If I muffed the shot I would end up as part of the land scape ! I swear the rifle was shaking that much it seemed to be moving about 22ft around the beast ! I finarly got the shot off ! The beast just folded quietly without any fuss or Bother ! Ha what a shot ! I was a natureal ! Until the Boss came to inspect my first kill & pointed out ........THe Damned thing was blind in one eye (the side I had approched from ) & was that Old it was probarly Deaf & probarly in themiddle of a fatal heart attack as I fired
Dave
! Yep I was going North with a Gent who had shot for many years with my Dad! It was hm that had convinced my Parents it would make a man out of me & convince me that there was no future in Pro shooting( Sometimes wished I listened to my parents now ) WOW talk about a reality check ! WE could use any cal we liked providing it was a .303 as this is what the Boss supplied ammo for & there was a lotto running t see how long I'd last ! But undunted I set out to make my mark on the Brovine Population ! I will never forget the First Buff I ever incounted ! I came out of thick scrub to find myself only a matter of yards from a large Bull !I had never seen a creature as large & had been fed every horror story you can think of since I was a kid ! If I muffed the shot I would end up as part of the land scape ! I swear the rifle was shaking that much it seemed to be moving about 22ft around the beast ! I finarly got the shot off ! The beast just folded quietly without any fuss or Bother ! Ha what a shot ! I was a natureal ! Until the Boss came to inspect my first kill & pointed out ........THe Damned thing was blind in one eye (the side I had approched from ) & was that Old it was probarly Deaf & probarly in themiddle of a fatal heart attack as I fired
Dave
Here is a story that a man from my last deer hunt in New Mexico told me one night by the camp fire. It is kind of a creepy story that made me sleep with the lights on.
The man loved his 35mm more than his 30-06 not really a hunter more of a wildlife photographer. But anyways the story starts like this. Alan and his favorite black lab"gunner" were on there way to the Pecos Wilderness in NE New Mexico for a weekend of fishing and photography. He planned to stay only one night because he wanted to come home for easter Sunday weekend. Alan loaded he dog , his equipment up and was off to the wilderness.Alan finally got to the camp site on state land about 10 miles in the Santa Fe National Forest. He didnt see anyone fishing or camping in any of the camp sites so he thought this would be a good weekend to see some game. He got unloaded and was off taking pictures of plants and some herds of elk. After all day of snaping pictures he turned in for the night and planned to leave in the morning after a stop on the pecos river for some early morning trout fishing.A couple of days pasted and alan went to get his pictures from wal-mart. He opened the pictures at the store and was pleased on how the pictures came out but there were two pictures that made him almost have a heart attack. Both of the pictures were of him and his dog asleep by the camp fire. He almost passed out walking to his truck because he knew that he wasnt the only one in the woods that night. Til this day he will not go into the woods without a group of people.
The man loved his 35mm more than his 30-06 not really a hunter more of a wildlife photographer. But anyways the story starts like this. Alan and his favorite black lab"gunner" were on there way to the Pecos Wilderness in NE New Mexico for a weekend of fishing and photography. He planned to stay only one night because he wanted to come home for easter Sunday weekend. Alan loaded he dog , his equipment up and was off to the wilderness.Alan finally got to the camp site on state land about 10 miles in the Santa Fe National Forest. He didnt see anyone fishing or camping in any of the camp sites so he thought this would be a good weekend to see some game. He got unloaded and was off taking pictures of plants and some herds of elk. After all day of snaping pictures he turned in for the night and planned to leave in the morning after a stop on the pecos river for some early morning trout fishing.A couple of days pasted and alan went to get his pictures from wal-mart. He opened the pictures at the store and was pleased on how the pictures came out but there were two pictures that made him almost have a heart attack. Both of the pictures were of him and his dog asleep by the camp fire. He almost passed out walking to his truck because he knew that he wasnt the only one in the woods that night. Til this day he will not go into the woods without a group of people.
Sgt Stevo
Member
Is Dick Cheney a THR member. I bet he has god ones.
ACP230
Member
I was hunting grouse along one of the foot trails in the Porcupine Mountains State Park, near Ontonagon in Michigan's U.P.
My Springer suddenly took off down the trail. Springers are flushing dogs and I figured he'd smelled, or seen, a grouse ahead on the trail. I took off after him, rounding the bend with my 16 gauge Winchester Model 12 at high port and my beard flying in the breeze.
There wasn't a grouse around the bend, just two startled backpackers and their dog. My Springer and it got acquainted while the backpackers and I discussed why I came running toward them.
Not a big deal, but I still think about it now and then.
My Springer suddenly took off down the trail. Springers are flushing dogs and I figured he'd smelled, or seen, a grouse ahead on the trail. I took off after him, rounding the bend with my 16 gauge Winchester Model 12 at high port and my beard flying in the breeze.
There wasn't a grouse around the bend, just two startled backpackers and their dog. My Springer and it got acquainted while the backpackers and I discussed why I came running toward them.
Not a big deal, but I still think about it now and then.
Art Eatman
Moderator In Memoriam
My father's hunting car was a 1941 Ford staff car that he bought Army Surplus right after WW II. Commonly, his favorite hunting buddy, Johnny, would sit on the roof with his feet on the hood as they drove around some ranch pasture.
One day, driving along, Johnny started thumping on the roof, "Stop, stop!" He'd seen a couple of turkey hens running up a jeep trail at nine o'clock to the car, about a hundred yards off.
Just as my father's in the middle of saying, "Johnny, don't shoot, those are hens!", Johnny's '06 sounds off. Center-punches right up the middle of a going-away turkey. Feathers, parts and pieces splatter across a half-acre of pasture.
"Johnny, why'd you shoot that damned hen?"
"Aw, I don't know." Grin. "But wasn't that a pretty shot, though?"
One day, driving along, Johnny started thumping on the roof, "Stop, stop!" He'd seen a couple of turkey hens running up a jeep trail at nine o'clock to the car, about a hundred yards off.
Just as my father's in the middle of saying, "Johnny, don't shoot, those are hens!", Johnny's '06 sounds off. Center-punches right up the middle of a going-away turkey. Feathers, parts and pieces splatter across a half-acre of pasture.
"Johnny, why'd you shoot that damned hen?"
"Aw, I don't know." Grin. "But wasn't that a pretty shot, though?"
'Card
Member
When I was a kid (15 or 16, probably) I was "sight hunting" (squirrels, rabbits, turkeys, pretty much whatever gets in your sights and would be edible - we didn't pay much attention to seasons back then) along a ridgeline near my hometown in West Virginia. I was sitting on a stump looking around, when I saw some movement back along the trail behind me, in the direction I'd come from.
Only took me a second to realize that I was seeing two bear cubs a little over 100 yards away, with their noses to the ground, ambling along in my direction. To this day, I'm not certain if they were following me, but I had a peanut butter sandwich in my pocket, and I thought they had probably smelled it and were tracking me. A few moments later, I heard what sounded like a WWF wrestling match starting up in the laurel thicket below me, and when I looked down that way I saw Momma Bear standing up on her hind legs to yank a grape vine down out of a tree. To a 16 year old boy alone in the woods, that black bear looked like the biggest, meanest, man-eating grizzly this side of the Yukon.
Didn't take me long to rid myself of that peanut butter sandwich, then I emptied my gun (a 16-gauge .870) of bird shot and filled it with slugs, then I got the hell out of Dodge. After I'd crossed a few points I figured I was out of the bear's area, so I took the slugs back out and replaced them with the bird shot. Unfortunately, I must have miscounted somewhere - because without knowing it, I left a slug in the barrel.
Later that afternoon I heard a pheasant drumming, so I snuck up on him using the trick my Grandpa taught me - you only move when he's drumming, then you freeze until he starts again. Turns out he was a nice fat one, sitting up on the end of a log whaling away with those wings trying to drum up a mate. I got good and close, laid the bead on him and opened up. As soon as I pulled the trigger I realized my mistake.
Drilled that pheasant center-mass with a 16-gauge slug from about 15 yards away. Wasn't anything left but blood and feathers.
Only took me a second to realize that I was seeing two bear cubs a little over 100 yards away, with their noses to the ground, ambling along in my direction. To this day, I'm not certain if they were following me, but I had a peanut butter sandwich in my pocket, and I thought they had probably smelled it and were tracking me. A few moments later, I heard what sounded like a WWF wrestling match starting up in the laurel thicket below me, and when I looked down that way I saw Momma Bear standing up on her hind legs to yank a grape vine down out of a tree. To a 16 year old boy alone in the woods, that black bear looked like the biggest, meanest, man-eating grizzly this side of the Yukon.
Didn't take me long to rid myself of that peanut butter sandwich, then I emptied my gun (a 16-gauge .870) of bird shot and filled it with slugs, then I got the hell out of Dodge. After I'd crossed a few points I figured I was out of the bear's area, so I took the slugs back out and replaced them with the bird shot. Unfortunately, I must have miscounted somewhere - because without knowing it, I left a slug in the barrel.
Later that afternoon I heard a pheasant drumming, so I snuck up on him using the trick my Grandpa taught me - you only move when he's drumming, then you freeze until he starts again. Turns out he was a nice fat one, sitting up on the end of a log whaling away with those wings trying to drum up a mate. I got good and close, laid the bead on him and opened up. As soon as I pulled the trigger I realized my mistake.
Drilled that pheasant center-mass with a 16-gauge slug from about 15 yards away. Wasn't anything left but blood and feathers.
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