The worst hunt

Status
Not open for further replies.

gspn

Member
Joined
Jun 10, 2006
Messages
2,426
Years ago on the opening day of Mississippi's bow season I found myself walking through a slough behind a lush, knee deep, emerald green clover field. We'd seen plenty of deer in that field and I knew there was some serious sign in the slough behind it, so I walked in there with my climber mid-morning to find a tree to inhabit.

I took my climber off my pack and leaned it up against me as I pondered the choices I had in front of me. This was a great spot, and all I needed was to find a tree thick enough, and straight enough to hang out in for a few hours.

About that time I felt something crawling on my lip. "Ugh, I hate spiders" I thought to myself. I swatted at it and it bit me something fierce. I couldn't believe the shot that spider just delivered. "What kind of spider bites like that?!" I swung again and BAM! I got another one. That completely knocked me out of my "which tree" train of thought and I stepped back, to swat again, letting my climber fall to the ground. To my astonishment, and then horror, I realized I'd set my stand down on a rotten log that was home to thousands of hornets. As I stood there dreaming of big bucks and wondering which tree might be the most comfortable, they had been absolutely boiling out of that log, screaming for vengeance.

I got hit again, and again. After a few seconds of trying to comprehend the situation I took off running. I hit the edge of the field maybe thirty yards away and slowed down to catch my breath and feel some relief at having made it out of there. BAM! BAM! They were still hammering me. Then I took off like Forrest Gump. My truck was maybe 120 yards across the field and I flew like the wind to get to it. As I reached the other edge of the field I slowed again and BAM! They were still on me. I thought to myself "What type of bees are these?!"

At that point I was in full "flight" mode. They had me on the run, I knew it, they knew it, every squirrel that watched me haul butt across that field knew it. There was no more attempt to hang onto pride or appearance, I was running for my life. :D Next I knew I had to get into my truck without getting stung anymore. I guess I've watched too many cartoons because the only idea that came to me was to unlock the truck on the way by with the remote, run past it, do a hard 180 to "lose them" then run back and jump in. It seemed like a good idea at the time.

After a panicked *** moment in the cab I drove back to the barn madder than hell. My heart was racing and everything was throbbing. I'd been stung 13 times, almost entirely in the face and neck, with a few on my hands. I immediately began looking for wasp spray when I got to the barn. I was going back to destroy the entire colony. I was burning for revenge, and had extinction on my mind.

I began to feel a little less tough and sure of myself when I realized the 21 foot range on the can of wasp spray was about 200 feet short of the distance I'd like to keep from that mess. The wasps had my bow, and I can't hunt without it, so I had to go back and get it. This was opening day and I was going to be hunting. About that time my face started to feel "tight". I used my phone to take a pic and realized that my face and head were swollen beyond recognition. I looked like the elephant man. Ugh. These wasps will pay.

I drove back to the edge of the field where it met the slough. It was only about 30 yards in a straight line to my bow, but being tactically proficient, I know that you never patrol the same route twice, so I was going to take a wide circle to get down hill from my bow. Then the plan was to use a tie down strap from the truck bed, swing it around and try to use it like a grappling hook to get ahold of my bow.

I'll admit, I was pretty jumpy on the walk in, feeling severely undergunned with my one and a half cans of spray. These critters had whooped me once and I really didn't want a second lesson, but I was getting my bow back, and i was going hunting.

When I got within range of the bow I was astonished. It had been at least 30 minutes and the hornets were swirling and circling my bow like a small black tornado. They were still some kind of pissed off. I threw the hook up there and got a hold of my bow. Then I slowly dragged it out from under them. They stayed right there, and I got my bow back. I quick stepped back to the truck before anything bad could happen to my plan.

Whew. I couldn't believe the whole bit of it. My head and face were pounding and swollen, my hands were burning, and all I could think about was making sure my bow was still on so I could get a hunt in despite this fiasco in the slough. They would NOT keep me from hunting.

I walked over to the woodpile to retrieve the bow target that was sitting next to it, and I was still feeling a little jumpy. So much so that I decided to check the handle of the target before I picked it up. My heart sank. Right there on the handle I was about to grab was the blackest, greasiest, most dagger-legged black widow spider you've ever seen.

I called it quits at that point. I figured that was a sign that God simply did not want me to hunt that day. I drove home, happy to have my bow, started planning the next trip.
 
I always carry smokeless tobacco for just such incidents. Also because I’m addicted to it, but even if I ever manage to quit I’ll have some on me if I go into the woods, because hornets seem to like stinging me and one of my dogs, and it really helps if applied to the sting site. Now in your case, with the full face mask thing happening? I don’t think it would’ve done much good.
 
Years ago on the opening day of Mississippi's bow season I found myself walking through a slough behind a lush, knee deep, emerald green clover field. We'd seen plenty of deer in that field and I knew there was some serious sign in the slough behind it, so I walked in there with my climber mid-morning to find a tree to inhabit.

I took my climber off my pack and leaned it up against me as I pondered the choices I had in front of me. This was a great spot, and all I needed was to find a tree thick enough, and straight enough to hang out in for a few hours.

About that time I felt something crawling on my lip. "Ugh, I hate spiders" I thought to myself. I swatted at it and it bit me something fierce. I couldn't believe the shot that spider just delivered. "What kind of spider bites like that?!" I swung again and BAM! I got another one. That completely knocked me out of my "which tree" train of thought and I stepped back, to swat again, letting my climber fall to the ground. To my astonishment, and then horror, I realized I'd set my stand down on a rotten log that was home to thousands of hornets. As I stood there dreaming of big bucks and wondering which tree might be the most comfortable, they had been absolutely boiling out of that log, screaming for vengeance.

I got hit again, and again. After a few seconds of trying to comprehend the situation I took off running. I hit the edge of the field maybe thirty yards away and slowed down to catch my breath and feel some relief at having made it out of there. BAM! BAM! They were still hammering me. Then I took off like Forrest Gump. My truck was maybe 120 yards across the field and I flew like the wind to get to it. As I reached the other edge of the field I slowed again and BAM! They were still on me. I thought to myself "What type of bees are these?!"

At that point I was in full "flight" mode. They had me on the run, I knew it, they knew it, every squirrel that watched me haul butt across that field knew it. There was no more attempt to hang onto pride or appearance, I was running for my life. :D Next I knew I had to get into my truck without getting stung anymore. I guess I've watched too many cartoons because the only idea that came to me was to unlock the truck on the way by with the remote, run past it, do a hard 180 to "lose them" then run back and jump in. It seemed like a good idea at the time.

After a panicked *** moment in the cab I drove back to the barn madder than hell. My heart was racing and everything was throbbing. I'd been stung 13 times, almost entirely in the face and neck, with a few on my hands. I immediately began looking for wasp spray when I got to the barn. I was going back to destroy the entire colony. I was burning for revenge, and had extinction on my mind.

I began to feel a little less tough and sure of myself when I realized the 21 foot range on the can of wasp spray was about 200 feet short of the distance I'd like to keep from that mess. The wasps had my bow, and I can't hunt without it, so I had to go back and get it. This was opening day and I was going to be hunting. About that time my face started to feel "tight". I used my phone to take a pic and realized that my face and head were swollen beyond recognition. I looked like the elephant man. Ugh. These wasps will pay.

I drove back to the edge of the field where it met the slough. It was only about 30 yards in a straight line to my bow, but being tactically proficient, I know that you never patrol the same route twice, so I was going to take a wide circle to get down hill from my bow. Then the plan was to use a tie down strap from the truck bed, swing it around and try to use it like a grappling hook to get ahold of my bow.

I'll admit, I was pretty jumpy on the walk in, feeling severely undergunned with my one and a half cans of spray. These critters had whooped me once and I really didn't want a second lesson, but I was getting my bow back, and i was going hunting.

When I got within range of the bow I was astonished. It had been at least 30 minutes and the hornets were swirling and circling my bow like a small black tornado. They were still some kind of pissed off. I threw the hook up there and got a hold of my bow. Then I slowly dragged it out from under them. They stayed right there, and I got my bow back. I quick stepped back to the truck before anything bad could happen to my plan.

Whew. I couldn't believe the whole bit of it. My head and face were pounding and swollen, my hands were burning, and all I could think about was making sure my bow was still on so I could get a hunt in despite this fiasco in the slough. They would NOT keep me from hunting.

I walked over to the woodpile to retrieve the bow target that was sitting next to it, and I was still feeling a little jumpy. So much so that I decided to check the handle of the target before I picked it up. My heart sank. Right there on the handle I was about to grab was the blackest, greasiest, most dagger-legged black widow spider you've ever seen.

I called it quits at that point. I figured that was a sign that God simply did not want me to hunt that day. I drove home, happy to have my bow, started planning the next trip.
Wow.
Great story!
 
It sounds like you got into a nest of bald-faced hornets. They are mean, un-relentless buggers. They keep after you for 100's of yards, stinging away constantly. They are not like bees where the stinger pulls out and kills the bees. They're like a street gang with switchblades and they just keep at you.

My wife got nailed by them when doing yard work. She threw some branches over the fence and they landed on a hornets' nest in the ground. She got stung 21 times and swelled all up. One stayed on her stinging even in the house. I pinched his head off to make him stop. They are like yellow jackets on steroids.

People have been killed by them. You were lucky, believe it or not.

Meat tenderizer contains papain, an enzyme that neutralizes the toxin. Make a gritty paste with meat tenderizer and water and rub it into the stung places soon after they nail you and it reduces the pain and swelling.
 
Ouch! I hate hornets and am glad to have never had more than one sting at a time.
 
It sounds like you got into a nest of bald-faced hornets. They are mean, un-relentless buggers. They keep after you for 100's of yards, stinging away constantly. They are not like bees where the stinger pulls out and kills the bees. They're like a street gang with switchblades and they just keep at you.

My wife got nailed by them when doing yard work. She threw some branches over the fence and they landed on a hornets' nest in the ground. She got stung 21 times and swelled all up. One stayed on her stinging even in the house. I pinched his head off to make him stop. They are like yellow jackets on steroids.

People have been killed by them. You were lucky, believe it or not.

Meat tenderizer contains papain, an enzyme that neutralizes the toxin. Make a gritty paste with meat tenderizer and water and rub it into the stung places soon after they nail you and it reduces the pain and swelling.

good to know
 
My Dad was fishing in the mountains and had taken 30 minutes to work his way back into the willows. With one step, he collapsed a bridge/pile of sticks, and looking down, saw what he described as "yellow gas" emerging from around his boot. What had taken 30 minutes to enter took far, far less to leave and he found himself back at the truck with only one sting.
 
I’m allergic to bees. I swell something fierce, and being asthmatic it bothers me to think that my airway could easily swell shut. I avoid hornets and bees of all types. I typically don’t hunt much until it’s a hard frost that kills off the majority of the stingy thingys and slows the rest of them down considerably. Same for snakes and ticks on the post-frost hunting. It’s hard to do that for spring turkey though, and I know that there’s a risk of it happening, it just hasn’t happened yet. I also keep as much skin covered as possible to minimize exposure for stings. Yes they can go through a t-shirt but only where it’s tight against the body.
 
Bald-faced hornet
Insect
Description
Dolichovespula maculata is a eusocial wasp of the cosmopolitan family Vespidae. Its colloquial names include the bald-faced hornet, bald hornet, white-faced hornet, black jack, white-tailed hornet, white-ass hornet, spruce wasp, blackjacket, and bull wasp. This species is a yellowjacket wasp, not a true hornet. Wikipedia
 
November 1979. We were camped at 7000 feet in central Colorado when my closest and dearest friend's dad had a heart attack and died in our tent. This man had taken me under his wing and had taken me with them to bird hunt in Old Mexico twice and this was my second trip to Colorado with them. When he died, Larry tried chest compressions and I gave him mouth-to-mouth but it was to no avail. Then we had to stay in camp for a couple of hours until the coroner showed up. During that time we sat around the fire and to this very day when I stare into a campfire I remember every moment.
 
OH and like a deer getting hit with a .530 round ball vs. it getting hit with a .308 slug from a .30-30 (or any other modern slug)..., it matters little what is swarming and stinging you, eh?
LD

UUH, just confirming what you were taught. However, since they are an "Ahnold" form of yellowjacket, they also make under-ground nests as well as paper ones that hang in trees.
 
I have a vendetta against yellow jackets. My daughter for whatever reason when we Go berry picking always finds a ground nest. Picnic or just sitting in the yard having a beverage. Any of those turds breaks our perimeter they die.
 
It was a hot dry day in August when I decided to give my Flowering Crabapple a drink. During the process something buzzed my neck, then set my hand on fire when I swatted at it. Then another hit me and I headed for the garage. Peeking out the window I could see a swarm of yellow jackets boiling out of the ground at the base of my tree. I had flooded them out and they were mad. After dark I slipped out there with a can of wasp spray and shot it down into the hole, Probably used half a can and followed it with about 20 gallons of water. That should do it. It did. It also killed my tree.
 
Far from the worst hunting day fortunately, but rather humorous story, nonetheless.

It was an unusually cold morning on opening day of deer season, my son was 9. Our hopes were high that he would be successful in harvesting his first buck as we climbed the 14' ladder and entered the box blind through a trap door in the floor.

We quietly moved the 6' bench (which covered the trap door when in place) and sat in total darkness, silently awaiting sunrise. As the pre-dawn light slowly replaced total darkness, I looked up and noticed several large dark spots on the ceiling and thought I'd have to check the roofing for leaks which had probably caused the dark stains.

As the light slowly increased, we strained out eyes searching for any sign of deer feeding on the slight rise across a dry drainage. When light was sufficient to see inside the blind, I looked up again and realized the dark spots were yellow jackets.......fortunately totally stunned by the cold, so I whispered to my son to be very careful not to inadvertently mash one, and we went back to watching the opposing hill.

As the temperature rose with the sun, the yellow jackets began to crawl around a bit. As they slowly crawled down the wall, I would (very carefully & quietly) cut their heads off with my hunting knife. Soon, sunshine on the uninsulated walls produced an increasing number of crawlers but thankfully, none were flying.

When a nice little buck presented a suitable target, I turned total attention to coaching my son. Anyone who has been in this situation knows just how slow and deliberate a 9 year old is in acquiring the target and making the shot. At the height of this critical time, I felt something crawl over the top of my right snake boot, inside my trousers, and continue slowly up my leg!:what:

It was with great effort that I kept still, urging my son to concentrate on sight picture on the buck's shoulder and Squeeeeze the trigger. Finally!! at the shot, seeing the buck drop, I jumped up, dropped my pants, quickly located the interloper and was very relieved to discover that I had missed my target on this one, cutting off the rear end along with the stinger.

That was 51 years ago, but I'll never forget the look on my son's face at that moment; it was priceless. Guess he thought this was a strange tradition, or something.

50559991846_22d27d2c8a_z.jpg

Regards,
hps
 
My worst hunt is a toss-up. Either falling into a dry well in Wyoming which knocked me out and displaced 2 vertebrae or plowing through a thicket of palmettoes to step out in between a sow and her litter of pigs. She attacked, clamped on to my crotch area, and tore my scrotum open. 20+ stitches followed at the local emergency room.

Neither was much fun.
 
This is kind of like hps1's post. It was a frosty morning in the Ozark deer woods. Much to our delight we saw a beautiful hornets nest about 15 feet up in a post oak. This was back in the mid-70's when I was young and catty. I climbed the tree and cut the limb. It was still frosty and there was no sign of a hornet so we took the nest and put it in the trunk of my BIL's car. His BLACK car. We hunted the rest of the day and then took our trophy nest home. When we started to open the trunk we could hear a buzz coming from inside. An ominous buzz, the kind of buzz that you know you don't want to hear on the outside of the trunk. We left it there until the next morning when the occupants were barely able to move from the cold and then took care of the problem.
 
My worst hunt is a toss-up. Either falling into a dry well in Wyoming which knocked me out and displaced 2 vertebrae or plowing through a thicket of palmettoes to step out in between a sow and her litter of pigs. She attacked, clamped on to my crotch area, and tore my scrotum open. 20+ stitches followed at the local emergency room.

Neither was much fun.
I'm impressed. I don't think you could get 20 stitches on mine.
 
My worst hunt is a toss-up. Either falling into a dry well in Wyoming which knocked me out and displaced 2 vertebrae or plowing through a thicket of palmettoes to step out in between a sow and her litter of pigs. She attacked, clamped on to my crotch area, and tore my scrotum open. 20+ stitches followed at the local emergency room.

Neither was much fun.
Ouch...just plain old OUCH. :eek:
That's a scar I would NOT be showing off.
 
Status
Not open for further replies.
Back
Top