Semisane

Do you have one? A memory of a hunting screw-up that haunts you now and then? One you remember more clearly than many of your most successful hunts?

Here's mine.

Fall of 1969. Back then our deer population was only a fraction of what it is today. Seeing a deer was something to talk about after the hunt. Actually killing one entitled you to bragging rights for at least a year. A buck over four points was a trophy to be envied by all of your friends.

I'm sneaking through the mixed oaks, sweetgum, and cypress of the Pearl River Wildlife Management Area just Northeast of New Orleans. Happened upon a giant gumtree blowdown that left the trunk forming a ramp that I could walk up, and take a seat in the crotch formed by the first huge branch which, though it was once thirty feet up when the tree was standing, is now about ten feet above ground level on the leaning tree. A perfect set up.

I sat up there all morning, quiet as could be even though I was feeding the mosquitoes a hearty meal. Finally, around 11 a.m. I'd had enough of the inactivity. Made my way down to ground level. Leaned my rifle against the rootball to take a leak. Looked up into the eyes of an 8-pointer not thirty yards away. How he got there, I don't know. Why I didn't see him sooner, I don't know. Why he didn't see me walking down that tree trunk, I don't know. What I do know is if I had sat up there five minutes longer I would have been king of our little hunting group. I also learned a buck can spin around and disappear faster than you can say "Holy ****!!!".

Anyway, I'll never forget that hunt.

bronko22000

Oh yeah I do. I was up our cabin for black bear season. After raining all night I headed up the mountain the first day of the season. I picked a spot just below the top of the ridge so I could watch most of the mountain side below me. About an hour after daylight I could hear something behind me up on the top. I crept up in a slow still hunt and jumped a very large blackie only about 40 yds away. Now this top was fairly thick brush as it was clear cut about 5-10 years prior. He was running right to left. Because of the rain the night before he was still wet. I shouldered my Rem 760 and when the .308 barked I saw the water spray too far back. I cycled the action and swung further in front but he changed direction and was running straight toward me. (I dont' believe it was a charge but more that he didn't know where the shot came from.) Looking through the scope his head looked massive. Those of you that have seen a bear run know that their body sort of rocks as the run. When his head came up I put a round through his chest, cycled the pump and did it again. This shot about 15 yds. He finally turned to the right. Swinging on him as if I was hunting rabbits with a shotgun now at this range, my fourth shot smacked a tree and I saw bark and wood flying in the scope. My last shot hit him squarely behind the left front shoulder as he disappeared into the laurel. As I put another magazine into the 760 I could see the laurel tops shaking as he ran through it. I sat on a stump to gather up all my wits from this episode that probably lasted less than 10 seconds. After about 20 mins I heard 2 shots about 150 yds away. Hoping it wasn't "my" bear I started examining the area. There was hair and chunks of meat and blood. I followed the blood train through the laurel - sometimes on my hands and knees until I lost it. I hung my orange scarf on a tree limb at the last spot and went down the camp for assistance but no one was around. I got back up, relocated the blood trail, retrieved my scarf and tracked it to a gut pile.
The following year I met another hunter up in the same spot and was telling him this and he said that he was the one that killed that bear. He said that the one I shot was in pretty bad shape stumbling around. He was hoping that he would hear or see me coming as there was another bear sitting on his haunches watching "my" bear. When the other bear walked away he decided that he should just dispatch the wounded one. He waited almost an hour with 3 of his friends but no one showed. (don't know why he didn't call out). So him and his friends dressed and dragged the bear out. He told me it weighed in at 386 lb dressed wt. I asked why he fired 2 shots. With a bit of embarrassment, he said that as he fired the first shot the bear fell and he missed it then took the second shot to finish him. To this day I regret not putting a .308 slug into that big bruin's melon size head.

SuperKirby

The first deer I ever shot was a decent whitetail buck. We watched him feeding his way back to the thick stuff. It was my first year hunting and the first hour of opening day. I took a shot at him and watched him jump. I told Dad I was pretty sure I hit him. We walked up to where he was and no blood. Walked towards the brush and saw him jump up and run deeper into the brush. Dad asked how sure I was that I hit him. I said I did but we couldn't find any blood. After looking awhile and not finding anything we moved on to a different area. I ended up shooting a little spike later that day.
A couple days later Dad was talking to a friend that was hunting the same area. He said he was walking by the wooded area and could hear an abnormal number of crows and vultures in there. Started cutting his way through and about 50 yards in found the buck I shot. I had shot him too far back so he didn't bleed much. The guy said he was a real big 6 point.
Made me learn real early to be picky on my shot choices and look real hard if I think there's a chance I hit a deer.

wabi

Mine was when I was bowhunting.
Crossing a series of small fields with deep ditches (with trees & brush) and decided to sit down on an old stump in the next ditch and take a smoke break. I lit a cigarette and looked back along the trail I had come across the last field on (about 50 yards) and there was a set of antlers that looked like something from a magazine cover sticking above the brush! I had put "red fox pee" on my boots as a cover scent and that huge buck was actually trailing me. He finally crossed the field and was within 10 yards when I shot. I watched the arrow dip right under his chest and stick in the ground and he was gone. Found where I had cut a small unseen twig with the broadhead as it was on it's way and it deflected the arrow enough for a complete miss.

Later talked to another hunter that saw the same buck that year and he said he counted 26 points through his binoculars.
As far as I know that buck died of old age.

TNHagies

The year before my dad passed away I was 17. I had met up with him mid day to have lunch and we sat, backed up against a tree, talking about the morning events.

As we talked, we heard the unmistakable sound of deer crashing down off of the ridge in front of us and heading our way. We both grabbed our guns and as they came into sight we both said simultaneously "Doe, doe and another doe" The excitement level dropped and I lowered by gun. It was then that I caught sight of a coyote pushing the deer. It saw us and broke off from the deer and came to my right as deer passed on my dad's side to the left. I decided it needed to die so I threw one at it running (Marlin 336 in 30-30) missing completely.

I heard my dad groan "ahhhh!" I turned and looked over his shoulder to see a 140+ inch 5x5 standing 40 yards away. Of course, the shot spooked the deer and they all bolted. We both shot in a Hail Mary attempt but didn't touch a hair.

Unfortunately that was the last year my dad got to hunt and that would have been his largest buck to date. Still kick myself for that one.

Muley Hunter

Mine is a little different. I can't forget my last hunt with my dad. I didn't know at the time is was our last hunt together, because he passed away before the next hunt.

The last one was a good hunt, as was all of them were together with him. It's the last one that I live over and over in my mind.

Josmund

I was a relatively new deer hunter. Probably about 30 years a ago.

These scene was NW SD and I was hunting with a bunch of my college buddies. We had spent the morning in the Buttes and I had set my cheap Tasco at 10 power while looking at a far off critter.

After lunch we were going to drive a big willow thicket. I was a designated blocker while others drove the grove. I see a large 10 point moving through the willows and I'm pumped. Finally, the drivers push him out, he runs through a low spot and pops up at my feet. I shoulder the rifle and can't see anything as the scope is still set at 10. He clears my ridge and drops into another draw never to be seen again. All this in the clear view of the gang. It was a lesson ill never forget. I'm constantly checking my scope setting as hunt.

I still get razed about it to this day.

Blackpowdersmoke

Semi,

I'd rather not bring it up. If I do I may need to go into therapy and miss this hunting season.

BPS

Semisane

Confession is good for the soul BPS. Let it out.

edwardCVAmason

Im with stupid