Funny bowhunting stories
#1
Fork Horn
Thread Starter
Join Date: Sep 2007
Location: Wisconsin
Posts: 239
Funny bowhunting stories
I hunt with some charactors and we're always having fun in the woods. Let's here some of the funny hunting stories here.
One of my friends was hunting in a stand we call the land lords stand. He got a nice little 8 pointer opening day this season, got a doe from that stand the next evening. My other friend also got a 4 pointer opening evening, the same one I passed up. With A 3 way bet going for biggest buck, it's looking pretty good for me, almost any 8 pointer will win. Anyways, my friend that shot the 4 pointer we went out to recover his deer first, then recovered the gut shot 8 pointer after. actually pin pointed it with my nose and the wind from about 25 yards away. lol
After shooting the 4 pointer that friend , before getting out of his stand, took a leak from his stand and peed on his own gloves he dropped. When he realized that his gloves were all wet, and figured out why, he put them in a plastic bag and left them at the stand. The 3 rd day, we all rotated stands. I went to where the 8 pointer was shot, he went to where the 4 pointer was shot and the other friend went to my stand. In the land lords stand I find A nice grunt call that smells like perfume. I also find some dried up presents left by a racoon that I stepped on and it pretty much crushed like dried dog food. Figured that the grunt call could use some natural cover sent, pulled the stretchy plastic tube off and filled it up with raccoon poo, plugged the end with pine needles so the poo wouldn't fall out, yet wouldn't stop the air flow completely, and put it back where I found it.
Now the rest I've only herd second hand by the other friend but he tells me on the forth day, our 8 point leader goes back to the land lord stand to hunt and find his grunt call. He get's to the stand, finds his grunt call, blows in it and gets a face full of "dust" in his face. Says the call still smelled like the wifes perfume, he had left it in his truck and it got spilled on, but now, when you suck on it for the doe bleat, it has a better taste. He want's to know what I put in it? Thinks it was like sawdust and pine needles.lmao Sounds like he was a little mad but then to top it off, he opened up his back pack and found the gloves in a bag he found at the other stand. He had picked them up and being a nice guy, bringing the wet gloves back, forgot to take them out of his back pack. Fermenting in his backpack for a couple days, he now realized that the gloves weren't simply "wet." Not only were they wet, but the bag had holes in it so everything in his back pack smelled like urine. This actually wouldn't be quite so funny except this guy actually peed on his own gloves the year before and did the same thing. Twice he's thrown his back pack and everything in it away.
He might be just as mad as the year I stole all his yardage markers and replaced them with plastic pink flamingo's or left rotten apples in my stand for cover scent. He climbed in and was stung by 4 bee's that were hanging around my apples. He was really mad that time. He thinks I'm the luckiest idiot in the woods. I do things just to throw him off my game like stand in the middle of a bare floored pine woods with a walkman on and dancing while he's in sight walking to his stand. I can hear him thinking what a nut case, what's he doing? He doesn't know how to hunt. That was actually on my birthday, 2 days befor gun season started. As soon as he was out of sight I set up on a buck that I had been scouting and getting closed to 3 days in a row. I set up a ground umbrella and knew when he got to his stand, that buck would be checking out by the back door. His escape route. Right on time, here comes the buck. I grunted to stop it, it didn't stop. I whistled, it stopped I shot and WACK spined him. Flopping around I grabbed a big stick and tried to knock the buck out long enough to cut it's throat. I've done it a dozen times to doe but this buck was tough and well trained in fencing. lol I hit it so hard I knocked the 1/2 of his rack off! My friend had herd the arrow hit, came walking up after the fight just in time for me to walk back, get my bow and another arrow and shoot stubborn SOB birthday buck again! He said he kept hearing wack wack wack so he had to see what that was all about. That's how I got the name wack.
When I got my bow, and saw him coming, I also put the walkman back on was bobin my head and sing back strap fever when I shot the buck the 2nd time. He's about 50 years old and real old school bow hunter. The look on his face was absolutly priceless. Totally speachless, and completely dumbfounded. How? from? with those on? Dancing? I don't think he spoke in full sentences for at least 3 hours. lmao I later found that the reason I spined this buck was because My arrow hit my umbrella. I expected to stop him sooner and had to swing further than planned. I laugh and remember his face every time I look at the patched hole in that umbrella.
One of my friends was hunting in a stand we call the land lords stand. He got a nice little 8 pointer opening day this season, got a doe from that stand the next evening. My other friend also got a 4 pointer opening evening, the same one I passed up. With A 3 way bet going for biggest buck, it's looking pretty good for me, almost any 8 pointer will win. Anyways, my friend that shot the 4 pointer we went out to recover his deer first, then recovered the gut shot 8 pointer after. actually pin pointed it with my nose and the wind from about 25 yards away. lol
After shooting the 4 pointer that friend , before getting out of his stand, took a leak from his stand and peed on his own gloves he dropped. When he realized that his gloves were all wet, and figured out why, he put them in a plastic bag and left them at the stand. The 3 rd day, we all rotated stands. I went to where the 8 pointer was shot, he went to where the 4 pointer was shot and the other friend went to my stand. In the land lords stand I find A nice grunt call that smells like perfume. I also find some dried up presents left by a racoon that I stepped on and it pretty much crushed like dried dog food. Figured that the grunt call could use some natural cover sent, pulled the stretchy plastic tube off and filled it up with raccoon poo, plugged the end with pine needles so the poo wouldn't fall out, yet wouldn't stop the air flow completely, and put it back where I found it.
Now the rest I've only herd second hand by the other friend but he tells me on the forth day, our 8 point leader goes back to the land lord stand to hunt and find his grunt call. He get's to the stand, finds his grunt call, blows in it and gets a face full of "dust" in his face. Says the call still smelled like the wifes perfume, he had left it in his truck and it got spilled on, but now, when you suck on it for the doe bleat, it has a better taste. He want's to know what I put in it? Thinks it was like sawdust and pine needles.lmao Sounds like he was a little mad but then to top it off, he opened up his back pack and found the gloves in a bag he found at the other stand. He had picked them up and being a nice guy, bringing the wet gloves back, forgot to take them out of his back pack. Fermenting in his backpack for a couple days, he now realized that the gloves weren't simply "wet." Not only were they wet, but the bag had holes in it so everything in his back pack smelled like urine. This actually wouldn't be quite so funny except this guy actually peed on his own gloves the year before and did the same thing. Twice he's thrown his back pack and everything in it away.
He might be just as mad as the year I stole all his yardage markers and replaced them with plastic pink flamingo's or left rotten apples in my stand for cover scent. He climbed in and was stung by 4 bee's that were hanging around my apples. He was really mad that time. He thinks I'm the luckiest idiot in the woods. I do things just to throw him off my game like stand in the middle of a bare floored pine woods with a walkman on and dancing while he's in sight walking to his stand. I can hear him thinking what a nut case, what's he doing? He doesn't know how to hunt. That was actually on my birthday, 2 days befor gun season started. As soon as he was out of sight I set up on a buck that I had been scouting and getting closed to 3 days in a row. I set up a ground umbrella and knew when he got to his stand, that buck would be checking out by the back door. His escape route. Right on time, here comes the buck. I grunted to stop it, it didn't stop. I whistled, it stopped I shot and WACK spined him. Flopping around I grabbed a big stick and tried to knock the buck out long enough to cut it's throat. I've done it a dozen times to doe but this buck was tough and well trained in fencing. lol I hit it so hard I knocked the 1/2 of his rack off! My friend had herd the arrow hit, came walking up after the fight just in time for me to walk back, get my bow and another arrow and shoot stubborn SOB birthday buck again! He said he kept hearing wack wack wack so he had to see what that was all about. That's how I got the name wack.
When I got my bow, and saw him coming, I also put the walkman back on was bobin my head and sing back strap fever when I shot the buck the 2nd time. He's about 50 years old and real old school bow hunter. The look on his face was absolutly priceless. Totally speachless, and completely dumbfounded. How? from? with those on? Dancing? I don't think he spoke in full sentences for at least 3 hours. lmao I later found that the reason I spined this buck was because My arrow hit my umbrella. I expected to stop him sooner and had to swing further than planned. I laugh and remember his face every time I look at the patched hole in that umbrella.
#7
Fork Horn
Thread Starter
Join Date: Sep 2007
Location: Wisconsin
Posts: 239
RE: Funny bowhunting stories
Snake, I'm probably older than you are but that's no excuse either. My intent wasn't to beat up the deer, it was to put him out of his misery as quickly as possible. I was taught to hit a small spot just above the eyes 1 time and slit the throat. A technique used for many generations to kill livestock prior to butchering. I had never had to try this on a buck before. When I figured out it wasn't working I went to plan B as quickly as possible. No, not my most proud moment, learned my lesson, won't be trying that again anytime soon. I will tell you my method when performed correctly is much faster than shooting the deer again. The buck after my arrow passed through the heart and both lungs took at least a minute or two to drop and was kicking the whole time. Seemed like forever. This buck surprised the heck out of me. I had seen several deer spined prior, they weren'y going anywhere. This one's back legs weren't working but he had plenty of fight left in the front end. A lot more fight than I wanted or expected, when I first got close to him, he was laying still, thought he was dead, looked easy, the branch I had was more to poke him with and then he nearly took my head off, the 4 or 5 wacks I took were more in self defense, I remember thinking this stick ain't big enough. lol when I went running back for my bow, I swear the buck was trying to follow me. When trying to land the 2nd shot I had to keep moving because he kept trying to come toward me, wouldn't give me a broad side. It's like those druggies you see on TV shows who are so drugged up they can take 50 bullets and keep going, only get more mad.
I'm telling ya Snake, if you were there watching, you'd been laughing you a$$ off and not whining about cruelty to animals. I know my friend was. He was also happy my rack was broke because, whole, it would have beat his in our contest. It would have been cruel to continue the fight and even more cruel to back off and let him die on his own time.
I have learned a few lessons with this buck.: don't ever assume a deer is dead, deer can play possum, bring your bow with you when going to find out, hitting that spot on a buck with a club is near impossible if the buck has a rack and can still move his head, A bucks rack can be knocked off fairly easily, and a bucks front legs are very strong and even with out back legs, he could have killed me and last but not least, A wounded buck durring rut isn't something to take lightly. This was the second buck that nearly got me, the first I was tracking in a cattail marsh and he desided to turn and fight, long story short I wash bushwacked and ended up with a concussion and bruised ribs and leg. He might have gotten away if he didn't turn to trample me a second time. The nock of the arrow I stuck into his chest somehow got hung in my boot which drove the arrow further in and around while I was swinging my knife chopping at the back of his neck and spine with my knife, holding on for dear life with the other arm. I also have a pretty good scar where the arrow nock dug into my leg. I landed in a deep channel that somehow appeared out of no where, he staggered around in the cattails for a moment and then dropped. The shot took out 1 lung, the wrastling match took out the heart and other lung by moving the arrow around. I had given this buck 1 1/2 hours before starting to track. I had been tracking for at least 1 hour and have never seen a better blood trail. The buck should have been dead, enough blood for 3 deer. Also never been so lost. I never want to have to track anything in a cattail marsh again. After all that, dragging him out about midnight I woke up a pair of sandhill cranes that weren't too happy I was in there space. Talk about a heart attack, damn those things are loud up close, big too! It took a couple weeks to recover from that one. lol Maybe not so funny but a true story. Hope it doesn't appal anyone.
I'm telling ya Snake, if you were there watching, you'd been laughing you a$$ off and not whining about cruelty to animals. I know my friend was. He was also happy my rack was broke because, whole, it would have beat his in our contest. It would have been cruel to continue the fight and even more cruel to back off and let him die on his own time.
I have learned a few lessons with this buck.: don't ever assume a deer is dead, deer can play possum, bring your bow with you when going to find out, hitting that spot on a buck with a club is near impossible if the buck has a rack and can still move his head, A bucks rack can be knocked off fairly easily, and a bucks front legs are very strong and even with out back legs, he could have killed me and last but not least, A wounded buck durring rut isn't something to take lightly. This was the second buck that nearly got me, the first I was tracking in a cattail marsh and he desided to turn and fight, long story short I wash bushwacked and ended up with a concussion and bruised ribs and leg. He might have gotten away if he didn't turn to trample me a second time. The nock of the arrow I stuck into his chest somehow got hung in my boot which drove the arrow further in and around while I was swinging my knife chopping at the back of his neck and spine with my knife, holding on for dear life with the other arm. I also have a pretty good scar where the arrow nock dug into my leg. I landed in a deep channel that somehow appeared out of no where, he staggered around in the cattails for a moment and then dropped. The shot took out 1 lung, the wrastling match took out the heart and other lung by moving the arrow around. I had given this buck 1 1/2 hours before starting to track. I had been tracking for at least 1 hour and have never seen a better blood trail. The buck should have been dead, enough blood for 3 deer. Also never been so lost. I never want to have to track anything in a cattail marsh again. After all that, dragging him out about midnight I woke up a pair of sandhill cranes that weren't too happy I was in there space. Talk about a heart attack, damn those things are loud up close, big too! It took a couple weeks to recover from that one. lol Maybe not so funny but a true story. Hope it doesn't appal anyone.
#8
Fork Horn
Thread Starter
Join Date: Sep 2007
Location: Wisconsin
Posts: 239
RE: Funny bowhunting stories
My friend and I were out bow hunting one morning , didn't have much luck and returned about noon. He had an aunt who was visiting from out of state that he had to drive to the airport that afternoon and he hoped to make it back in time to hunt the last couple hours of the day.
On the way to the airport, he had an itch but with his aunt in the car, he sucked it up and tried to forget about it after awhile it went away. He dropped the aunt off at the airport and rushed back to hunt and returned just in time, we were getting dressed and ready to hunt. He ran into his house to change his cloth and from inside the house we hear him yell," What the h#ll, O my God!" and we hear a crash. We run into the house to find him passed out on the floor with his pants around his ankles. We wake him up and he looks down at his tally wacker and passes out again! The itch he felt on the way to the airport? Was A tic. It stopped itching because it had burried itself into my friends tallywacker.
Now I concider him a close friend, but I draw the line at sabre toothed crotch critters. Short of throwing water at him from a safe distance, he wasn't even getting in my truck till he put his pants back on,. If he doesn't come to in a few minutes and pull his pants up, I'm calling 911.
He came to eventually, my other friend and I gathered up a tweezers, some vasoline, a lighter and cigarette, some dental floss, a big needle, a big knife (mostly for effect) some gauze, Jack Danials and sent him back into the bathroom to do battle and take back his man hood. He couldn't do it.
We had to give up a perfectly good hunting trip and go to the Emergency room. At first I don't think anyone at the ER was taking us seriously! I mean I got this guy who acting like he's dieing and keeps passing out and they don't believe me when I tell 'em it's because he's got a tic on his dick. After a couple minutes of a rediculous conversation, he was finally admitted , treated and released in a record 4 hours. I found the discharge nurse to be quite funny trying to explain to us what kind of care he's going to need.
" He's gotta do what? Ah...Don't tell me, if it's up to me he's going to die and if you can't tell me he's bug free, he's riding home in the back of my pick up, and I hope you gave him something to stop that whimpering, we don't want to hear him crying from our tree stands tomorrow. He ain't gunna bleed all over my truck is he?" They gave him Vicodin and valume. We took him home, he dissapeared into bed and we didn't see him again for about 2 weeks. Before that I was the whimp who got his butt kicked by a wounded buck. Funny how he stopped giving me crap about that.....and the moral of the story?
On the way to the airport, he had an itch but with his aunt in the car, he sucked it up and tried to forget about it after awhile it went away. He dropped the aunt off at the airport and rushed back to hunt and returned just in time, we were getting dressed and ready to hunt. He ran into his house to change his cloth and from inside the house we hear him yell," What the h#ll, O my God!" and we hear a crash. We run into the house to find him passed out on the floor with his pants around his ankles. We wake him up and he looks down at his tally wacker and passes out again! The itch he felt on the way to the airport? Was A tic. It stopped itching because it had burried itself into my friends tallywacker.
Now I concider him a close friend, but I draw the line at sabre toothed crotch critters. Short of throwing water at him from a safe distance, he wasn't even getting in my truck till he put his pants back on,. If he doesn't come to in a few minutes and pull his pants up, I'm calling 911.
He came to eventually, my other friend and I gathered up a tweezers, some vasoline, a lighter and cigarette, some dental floss, a big needle, a big knife (mostly for effect) some gauze, Jack Danials and sent him back into the bathroom to do battle and take back his man hood. He couldn't do it.
We had to give up a perfectly good hunting trip and go to the Emergency room. At first I don't think anyone at the ER was taking us seriously! I mean I got this guy who acting like he's dieing and keeps passing out and they don't believe me when I tell 'em it's because he's got a tic on his dick. After a couple minutes of a rediculous conversation, he was finally admitted , treated and released in a record 4 hours. I found the discharge nurse to be quite funny trying to explain to us what kind of care he's going to need.
" He's gotta do what? Ah...Don't tell me, if it's up to me he's going to die and if you can't tell me he's bug free, he's riding home in the back of my pick up, and I hope you gave him something to stop that whimpering, we don't want to hear him crying from our tree stands tomorrow. He ain't gunna bleed all over my truck is he?" They gave him Vicodin and valume. We took him home, he dissapeared into bed and we didn't see him again for about 2 weeks. Before that I was the whimp who got his butt kicked by a wounded buck. Funny how he stopped giving me crap about that.....and the moral of the story?