no way, man, that is such rubbish!

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Part 1- I hear alot of the stories that go... the buck was at a full run and I leveled down on it and squeezed the trigger. This wasn't my first buck at 800+ yards. For some reason most of these are from older men.

Part 2 - I was in witness to this but still do not believe it. My good friend's family and I were hunting their land, mostly swamp surrounded by farm fields. I was 25 yards in woods watching a large land bridge through a particularly nasty tangle. I had about 100-130 yard deep area about 50 yards across. He was behind me to my left. I turned because I haven't heard him spit (he chews) for near 2 minutes. Just as I turned he leaned against the tree and scoped something out in the field. He uses a Rem #7 in 7mm-08. He touched off a round, spit his plug and took a swig of water then ejected the casing. I casually asked it he shot a woodchuck and he said very matter of factly, "Nope. Doe." We later measured the shot as 213 yards. Her head was split like a ripe melon. I commented "Ya shot her in the head?!" His reply was "Didn't want to bruise the meat."
 
The old story about a woman's first hunting trip goes something like:The husband puts his wife in a good spot and moves down the trail a little ways.After a while,he hears a shot from her direction.Hollering follows and he heads toward the ruckus."It's MY DEER! It's MY DEER!!"he hears her scream.A male voice replies"Okay,it's your deer lady,just let me get my saddle off it."
 
I don't know if this is an unbelievable hunting story, but it certainly was my most awkward ever hunting trip:

I had just graduated college and moved back home to where I grew up in Northeastern Vermont. One beautiful fall day I was out hunting partridge on a long abandoned logging road, miles from the nearest road or parking area. It had been a successful outing and I was on my way back to my truck. When I turned a corner in the trail, I was face to face with a middle aged couple who were, to put it in as High Road acceptable terms as possible, vigorously adding extra spice to their relationship. Right in the middle of the trail. No way around them without either wading through a blackberry bramble or getting way, way too close for comfort.

I was still a good mile and a half away from the nearest parking spot. I realized that even in the middle of nowhere, I couldn't avoid awkward situations.
 
A dozen year ago or so, my perennial turkey hunting partner and I got permission to hunt a new parcel of land. We had worked two Toms on this parcel several weeks before from an adjoining property, but could not get them to leave their Strut Zone. Getting permission late in the evening for a morning hunt left us no time to scout the farm so we decided to just run and gun and learn the lay of the land as we went. We located birds on roost and at flydown, sure enough there were two toms gobblin' from the same spot they had frustrated us before.....but this time we could go to them. Workin' our way in carefully we came to a large open pasture with a large steep sided hill, dead center in the middle. The gobbles were coming from the top of that hill. The closest cover from any side was 100 yards or so. We got to the last bit of cover and sat down and called. Just like that the two toms came over to our side of the hill and gobbled and gobbled. They both strutted and drummed like synchronized dancers and answered every call with a double or triple. Then they would strut back over the crest and gobble on the other side for a while. Few minutes later they would be back...and then gone to the other side again. Hours went by and they continued the back and forth. Strutting in plain sight 40 yards outta range and then going back over the crest to work the other side for a while........hens went by us to the toms and then back by us on their way to lay an egg. We switched calls, we got aggressive and then passive, nothin' would bring them any farther than a few yards down the hill towards us. Always tho, after several minutes of struttin' and showin' off on our side of the hill, they would again disappear over the crest and we could here them doin' their song and dance on the other side. One could almost set your watch by their regularity of going to one side and then the other. About noon they shut up and no amount of callin' would get a peep outta them. We figured the cows comin' to pasture on the hill after milkin' had spooked them off their "safe spot", and we would have to come up with a change of plans for the next morning. Thinkin' they were long gone and we needed to make a set-up on top the hill or figure how they were gettin' to and from it for the morning, we had started towards the top of the hill amidst the cows when two large fans appeared at the crest. We were now halfway up the hill and the only cover we had was the cattle. The toms looked at us and the cattle, turned and as quickly as they appeared, the two fans disappeared again. Busted! Or so we thought. Giving a quick series of cutts, the toms answered and again came to the crest and looked at the cows with us in the middle. Then, still in full strut they turned and walked away again. My friend looked at me and said "what do we do now?" I said "we stay low and we run, I'll take the one on the right!''. I dropped my huntin' pack and crouching as low as we could, we made a beeline to the top of the hill . As we crested the hill both toms were in full strut, not 30 yards away. They both stuck their heads up at the same time and two shots rang out. Since our tags were full, we went fishin' the next day.
 
for me Part 1.

From one of my hunting buddies "I was out in my real tree suit when i sat down for a minute and a doe came up and sniffed my elbow."
Click to expand...
Well, believe what you want.

But a hunting buddy had a fox jump in his blind with him and bite him on the arm while calling coyotes.

And I have had squirrel's climb up my leg while setting in a tree-stand bow hunting.

rc
 
I don't know exactly how this story fits, but I'm telling it anyway.
Me and Uncle Harry were sneaking up on a nice buck that was meandering across the remnants of a corn field, foraging for cobs. It was winter in Wisconsin so of course there was a nice thick bed of snow everywhere. Well we did a good job of stalking and got close enough to get a shot, and the last piece of cover was to get up and over this ditch along the field's edge. As we climbed up the bank, I noticed that Harry had his barrel pretty low to the ground and it looked like he was pushing snow with his barrel. "Harry, you've got snow in your barrel!" I whispered. "Shut up kid." What did I know? I was about 13 years old and not real experienced. "Harry I'm serious, you've got snow in your barrel." His glare made me stop.
He got to the lip of the bank and slooooowwwwly brought up his shotgun, aimed, and "kabrannnngg!" that slug made the funniest noise as it caromed off in who knows what direction. He spent that afternoon with a hacksaw and had to listen to my dad cackling for hours.
 
The owner of the cabin I hunted from showed me a bucks rack.It had a hole through one antler about 2 inches above the skull.He said he was checking the rack when he touched the trigger.The buck went down,jumped up and he fired again,killing the buck.I would have thought the antler would have shattered.
 
thats the point!

Well, believe what you want.

But a hunting buddy had a fox jump in his blind with him and bite him on the arm while calling coyotes.

And I have had squirrel's climb up my leg while setting in a tree-stand bow hunting.

for sure! thats it. we could swap questions one and two round. my "no way, man, that's such BS" story is anothers "no really, that happened"
 
The craziest story I ever heard, which I could only believe because I saw the pictures to prove it, was one the hunting guide I worked for told me.

He was out hunting elk in Wyoming with a small group of guys. They spotted a huge bull on top of a ridge and put on a good stalk. The hunter laid down, got a good rest and squeezed off a good shot. The elk lurched and ran about fifty yards down the mountain before crashing into the snow. Not a big deal except the elk didn't stop when he hit the ground. Due to the grade of the slope he was on, he kept sliding right toward the edge of a cliff. Luckily, the body of the elk shifted to the downhill side of the slope cause when it went over the edge it managed to go through a gap in the cliff's edge and the elk got stuck, by the head.

Not having anything they could pull the elk up with, they had to leave it and go back to base camp to get ropes, saws, etc. In order to get back to camp, they had to cross over a ridge opposite the one the elk was hanging on, so they took a picture to prove what had happened.

They got some ropes and anchored up so one of the guides could repel down. So they sent this crazy guy over the edge with a saw in hand to separate the head from the body. About an hour later, they've got the rack and as much of the cape strapped into the pack horses and they were on their way back to camp.

Like I said, if I hadn't seen the pictures, I wouldn't have believed it.
 
If you want to get into crazy stories!!!

My late uncle told of the time he and some friends hired a guide and went hunting in Canada. After being dropped in an area that "even God forgot" they walked all day and made camp. After making dinner the guide cleaned his rifle, leaned it against a tree and retired to his tent. Sometime about 3 in the morning (oh dark thirty in his words) a shot rang out...

Seems a bear wandered into camp and started licking the bacon grease off the barrel of the rifle and somehow managed to hit the trigger with a rear claw.

He always ended the story with... "Friends and neighbors... never... ever... try to explain to a Royal Canadian Royal Mountie that a bear chose your camp and rifle to commit suicide."

The sad part of it is... knowing the situations my uncle got himself into when he was old it just might have happened in his "younger days."
 
True story: Deer huntin' with a couple of friends in the Ocala Ntl. Forest........friend had some really good walker hounds that we'd killed a couple of good bucks in front of. Dogs jumped near the naval bombing range one late afternoon & made repeated passes in and out of that restricted area....struck a line going due west and crossed several roads running exactly as a buck would...into the wind. We succeeded in getting in front of the dogs three or four times but never could get sight of the deer. We had noted that they'd apparently picked up another dog on the run and we saw it always in the lead. Finally, after about three hours of that round about the owner decided the dogs had to be running some off game...fox/coyote or whatever. Again, he positioned himself on a crossing and again those dogs...with that stranger in the lead crossed in front of him.....he was determined to end that race anyway he could....finally we began to catch worn out dogs and last of all picked up the stranger who was hiding under some thick scrub oak...........turns out that the stranger was what amounted to the 'drag'.........some sob's had doused that poor dog with deer urine, even tied a soaked rag with the stuff to his collar!

Hulluva run, hulluva a chase & I am sure that we wound up being the butt of a lotta jokes. Probably cost each of us nearly a half tank of gas.
 
I heard stories of my parents and a few friends going snow-skiing in Colorado years ago. My dad had pictures of him feeding a mule deer doritos out of the window of the van they were driving. He way he tells the story that year was a bad drought and the deer were starving to death, and would go up to ANYONE who had food. The only downside was no one had a hunting license, nor a way to dress out the deer.

Now for number 2, also involving my father and a few other friends. They went "outlaw" hunting in Alabama back in the 70's. My father wanted no part of it, but he was not driving so he had no way to get a hunting license at the local general store.

They went out hunting tree-rats after breakfast, and they found a mess load of them just a few minutes away from the cabin. Did I mention that it was not squirrel season either. :) My father got one shot off from his rifle and had a jam, so he went back to the cabin to clear it. He comes walking out and a dead tom turkey lands at his feet, and the BIGGEST BADDEST game warden he has ever seen grabs his rifle. He of course asks what is going on, and the game warden tells him "you killed a turkey out of season." My father said no he did not kill that turkey, there must be a mistake. Gradually as the rest of the party come back they are each stripped of rifle, ammo, and game by the game warden. They are then each issued a ticket for hunting out of season.

Later my father is the one who is "voted" to talk to the judge and see if they can get the tickets dropped. They find out that the game warden is a "hanging warden, and the judge is a hanging judge." They then figure that they will blame the turkey on the local outlaw cousin of one of the party. They did not know that "cousin Tom" had talked to the judge and got him to drop the tickets. They call the judge and begin telling the story of how "Tom" killed that turkey. The judge breaks in and tells them that "Tom" testified that they were good boys and that they would never make the mistake of hunting "outlaw" again if he would let them go. To this day my father has never set foot back in that county, much less hunted there. I have learned from his mistake and will not hunt or fish without a license, and I will not try to blame the "outlaw cousin Tom" if I get caught doing anything.

P.S. To this day no one has ever admitted to killing that turkey.
 
Ok its 0244 am and I am up with nausea…..so here goes


I know two men that will never ever admit it......, but shot deer with 22LR.


I also saw a man fill is dove season daily quota without wearing any pants.

And on that same morning I also saw that same man tear the head of a dove off in his mouth while field dressing his doves.

yup.......Alcohol was involved.
 
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.

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.
Click to expand...
When I lived in PA, a neighbor had a peacock that used to hang out with wild turkeys at my place.

Then there are a couple of pellet gun versus deer stories.

The origin if the first is from a person well known to me that I consider trustworthy. He wished to scare off a deer eating his plants so got out a 17 caliber pellet gun. At the shot the deer went down dead with a shot that went in one nostril.

When I told that story around where I live now, I was told that several years ago a similar thinkg happened locally and the shooter of the deer with a pellet gun was asking around at to who wanted deer meat. Since I don't know that shooter, I can't vouch for that one.
 
Now this is a fun thread.

Part 1. Had a coworker friend of mine tell me about a small buck his friend shot during rifle season while it was mounting a doe. No big deal right? Well he claimed this buck had an arrow sticking out of its head when he shot it.

Part 2. I called BS and he went home and got the trail cam pic of that buck mounting a doe. And then he showed me the pic of the dead buck with the arrow in its head. Same buck. He then showed me a pic of the deer's skull after it had been boiled and bleached with the arrow still in it. Arrow went through the back of the skull, under the right eye and the broad head had lodged in its nasal cavity. Never doubted him again.
 
Years ago, as a kid in Mexico, I used to sit on top of a brick wall under an avacodo tree with my model 1894 Daisy BB gun to shoot rats in the field behind our house. My parents weren't the gun type so I felt lucky to have a BB gun and rats were about the most exotic game I could shoot.

Anyway, I shot a rat which jumped around a lot and die. When I climbed off the wall to do my post mortem, I had a hard time figuring out where my BB had hit it. It turned out the BB had gone in an ear leaving only a tiny drop of blood.
 
I always hear stories of guys wearing blue jeans, smoking cigarettes while up in the tree stand.. drinking coffee, spitting their Coppenhagen out, and the deer walks right up to their tree, and BLAM! they bag it. But then the guy with all the scent blockers on, and Real Tree or Mossy Oak, can't bag a deer to save his life.
 
A guy I used to shoot with spoke of killing a hog with a perfect head shot with his 1911 .45. The bullet went in one ear hole and exited the other ear hole, killing the hog instantly with no bleeding or mess what-so-ever.

When confronted with the obvious fabrication, he denied it through and through, so to speak.

===================

On another forum, I caught a guy posting a picture of a mountain lion right next to his deer stand with a trail cam pic. The argument was that despite purported claims of the DNR that they don't exist in his state, they do.

What is interesting is that I found that the picture was taken in another state by wildlife officials (the picture documented from one of their locked observation cameras). The picture was out of focus and you could not read the time stamp or date in the poster's version, but the claimed date it was supposed to show was AFTER it was the pic was published online by the folks in the actual state where taken. When confronted with this information, the poster claimed the picture was given to him by his buddy who had put a camera up by the poster's deer stand and that somebody must have borrowed it (so they must have "borrowed it" and then gone back in time to publish it before it was taken). Eventually, the evidence was such that he admitted to doubting the image and the thread was closed.

So the claim went from being a picture right next to his own deer stand of a mountain lion not reported as being taken by anyone else to being a picture provided to him by a buddy that must have been borrowed, to finally being that he was questioning its authenticity. All this was done under the guise of griping that the game officials in the state of the deer stand purportedly claimed mountain lions don't exist there (but that was shown to be wrong) and the poster had not even submitted his "proof" to game officials to show how wrong they are....which is good because his "proof" was fake.
 
Tommy, back fifty or so years ago, I was sneaky-snaking around my uncle's back pasture, eye-balling for Bambi. I came to the edge of some brush and across the fence saw a hunter in the next pasture.

Blue jeans and Levi jacket. Sitting on a stump, taking a smoke break. Upwind from him about ten yards was a doe. She stomped. She sniffed. She raised and lowered her head. He never moved a muscle.

She finally decided he was merely an oddly-shaped stump, and wandered off to wherever...
 
There is a video on YouTube of a bow hunter that has a momma moose with calf walk up to him. She actually nibbles on his broad head then turns and walks away. One of the neatest things I've seen. Go on YouTube and search "Moose vs. Archery Hunter" it should be the first video. It's 2:26 long. Wouldn't have believed it if it was a story.
 
BigBore44 said:
There is a video on YouTube of a bow hunter that has a momma moose with calf walk up to him. She actually nibbles on his broad head then turns and walks away. One of the neatest things I've seen. Go on YouTube and search "Moose vs. Archery Hunter" it should be the first video. It's 2:26 long. Wouldn't have believed it if it was a story.
Click to expand...
There is also a video of a black bear nibbling on the barrel of a guys rifle as he is trying to shoo it away. It's pretty cool.
 
Quote:
for me Part 1.

From one of my hunting buddies "I was out in my real tree suit when i sat down for a minute and a doe came up and sniffed my elbow."
Well, believe what you want.

But a hunting buddy had a fox jump in his blind with him and bite him on the arm while calling coyotes.

And I have had squirrel's climb up my leg while setting in a tree-stand bow hunting.

rc
Click to expand...

I love this thread. I had a cow with her two young bulls on opening day a few years back feeding on my corn, keeping any chance of deer at bay. They came up to my ground blind, the cow sticks her whole head into my blind and tries to lick me, straining with that giant tongue to get a taste of me. I smacked her in the nose, and she backed up.

Young bull number one then follows mom's lead, and sticks his head in my blind. I pop him hard on the snout, and I'm getting pretty frustrated at this point that opening morning is about to be a bust. He pulls away, rubs his snout on the dirt, and he is pissed. He stands about 10' out, staring me down and pawing the ground, snorting. The little bastard is about to take down my blind. I say little, he's an easy 700 lbs of angry angus, eager to show mom how tuff he is. Hunting now obviously over, I grab my 4d mag light, exit the blind, and run screaming at the little bastard trying to lay him out with that light. Of course, he took off so I never got close. Without the noise and show of authority, I think he would have charged. Oh we'll, got a nice pig that night at least.
 
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