Scariest Experience While Hunting or Scouting?

Desert Dan

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Got to talking to a buddy the other day about scary experiences while out hunting or scouting and thought it would be interesting to hear other guys' stories. I'll start I guess.
Out summer scouting on a late afternoon on Mount Lemmon outside Tucson. Anyone who has spent a summer here knows there are two distinct features of southern Arizona summers - 1) the heat and 2) the monsoon storms. I got off work a little early on a Friday afternoon and decided to run up to the canyon where I had found a nice buck that January and see if I could spot him again. By the time I got to the glassing spot I only had about an hour and a half of light left so I sat down and made the most of it. Not long after I glassed up my first mountain lion at 600 yards and watched him sneak off the other way as the last bit of light faded. I started making my way back to the trail for the hike out as a thunderstorm started to move in from behind me. At that point I should have stopped where I was and let it pass before hitting the narrow trail that follows the canyon wall up and out back to the truck. But no. In my mind I would be fine hiking for an hour with no cover along the way. Needless to say that was a big mistake as thirty minutes later the full brunt of a NASTY monsoon storm caught up with me. One of the main features of Arizona monsoon storms is how much lightning they produce, and this one had more than I have ever seen. The only thing I could do was huddle up under what little cover was available and ride it out, literally praying I didn't get struck. Lightning was hitting all around me so close I could feel the impact almost as fast as I saw the flash through my closed eyes. One bolt struck so close I could actually feel the discharge of electricity and the impact from the bolt hitting the ground.
I had enough cell signal to pull up the weather channel app radar and when I opened it I was sitting dead center in the eye of the deepest red radar they have. Terrifying. As soon as it eased up enough I jumped to my feat and raced to the saddle so I could start descending back down out of the high ground the rest of the way. The rest of the way back was through a river where the trail used to be. I passed a doe about 10 yards in the brush that just stared at me like I was crazy for being outside in that nonsense. I got back to the truck and started driving home only to pass several sheriff's deputies who were slowing traffic because of broken boulders that had shed off the cliffs and blocked the roads. It was like that storm just wrecked the whole area and I couldn't get home fast enough.
Definitely the scariest thing that has ever happened to me out on the mountain!

 

Ladd

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One of mine was on a buffalo hunt 7 years ago in the Henry Mtns. My friend knocked down a big bull late on the last evening.

We got up early the next day to trailer the mules around the other side of the mountain which is a better road, easier in bad weather. We had a snow storm coming and we were racing for time.

We got to the bull and broke him down deboning everything we could. We had two pack mules to carry the meat, skull, cape and robe as well as the three we were riding.

We started the two mile ride out just as the snow started blowing sideways. And darkness fell. It took us all day prepping and packing and we were excited to get out.

On our way up out of the canyon the pack mule in the rear went down to his knees. The breast collar was choking him out and we needed to spin him downhill to get the weight off before it was too late.

I jumped off my mule on the uphill side. My life went into slow motion as I slid down the hill between the mule’s legs. Thankfully he stood motionless.

We managed to keep the mule alive, make some adjustments to the packs and eventually made it back to the trailer a few hours later.

We cooked up some of the toughest and best tasting buffalo that night. We went to bed with stomachs full and our bodies aching.


Sent from my iPhone using Tapatalk
 

Jasent

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I was out deer hunting my favorite place. I was just setting up on a heavily used saddle crossing when I heard this terrible screaming. At first I was thinking some one was screwing off. The sound kept up almost constant. I had to go check it out. Half mile later im getting close, I can tell its coming from just the other side of this marsh/swampy area at the base of huge hill that I already new is normally 90% surrounded by water. I sneak up to just 10 yards from the screaming that i can tell is a cat. I start glassing threw the trees and thick brush and at first it looks like a person peeks out at me from behind a tree. Then again and this time it's obvious its a cougar. I pull my rifle up and center my cross hairs excitedly and squeeze. A big cat runs up the hill best it can. As i jack another round in i see another cat peaking out at me,this one smaller and looking confused. After a sec it jogs off. I seen where my cat went so i cross the bog and head up the hill after him.im shooting a 300win mag with 185gr Berger's so i was sure he was toast. I get to the top and no sign of the cat but I thought I spooked a deer off the other side of the hill. So i head back to where i hit him,take off my pack and set down my rifle,marked the spot on my gps and started tracking the blood. With toilet paper as marker and my 44 on my hip i headed up again. I get to the top again and the blood Peters out. So i start circling looking for some sing. Down the other side i find a track on a mole hill,down a little farther i find. another. So down to the bottom i head. Get All the way down and see that the pond is about dried up, mostly just grass and berry thick brush all around the outside edges. I hear a commotion in the brush. I stand there listening and watching but it won't leave the brush. I debate with my self for a bit then decided i owed it to the cougar and the deer to put this thing down. I take a deep breathe,say a prayer,draw my 44mag and cock the hammer back. Headed straight in to the brush right at him hoping to push him out in to the shorter grass where i could shoot it easy. Nope cat charges straight at me and just barrely misses me as squeaze off again missing him. Cat runs past me back in the trees makes a quick half circle and back in the brush. I keep after him and each time i just get a glimpse of him before he runs farther in the brush, and keeps circling back. i catch up again and this time he charges at me again and i nail him in the spine. Cat stops under a nasty thorny tree and screams at me.we're 10 ft. Apart and i check my gun 😳 oops I got one round left. I step to the side with the cat growling and hissing my heart is pounding and I aimed for the heart (best I could tell from my angle)sqeazed it again. This one hit him hard and sprawled him out,I could tell he was about gone so I hiked back up and over the hill to my backpack and rifle.the whole time the other cougar is calling to him. When I got back to the cat he was still. I poked him with my rifle and then grabbed his leg and drug him out. Holy cow he was bigger than I thought. Heavy too and it was getting dark. I was planning on just skinning him out but it was so big and heavy I felt I needed to weigh him. So I drug him out to the trail and half mile back towards the truck with the other cat following us out calling to him. I decided to call for help,I was mentally and physically drained,it was 8:00pm and I had been in the woods since 5:15am. Still had over a mile to go to get to my truck. Got him home and weighed. He was 134lbs,6'9" long. My first cougar. I didn't think cougars bred in the fall but that's what they where doing.

Bio said he was 10 years old
 
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Brendan

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Last year, Wyoming. Pistol on my belt, bear spray on the other side. Rounded the corner in a trail to a cow moose heading at me at a full run under 10 yards. No time to do anything except dive head-long into the bushes down a hill to my right (Pack on my back, bow on the pack - that was a mess trying to get out). Fortunately, she'd been scared up the trail and it wasn't an aggressive charge.

Same hunt, was sitting up high glassing for elk, and a small black bear cub walks 10 yards in front of me looking around. Bear spray and pistol on my pack 5 yards behind me (Dumb***...) Waited for the cub to move enough he wouldn't see me, snuck to my pack with pistol and spray, looked over the edge and spotted a BIG mom and another cub. Snuck out of harm's way, but that was a pucker-factor moment. Was just waiting for the cub to run up a tree next to me screaming bloody murder for mom....
 

50caliber

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years back was hunting moose when a hunter came to us that he wounded a griz. He asked us to help him track it down and put him down. We went and looked over where he wounded the bear to decide the best course of action. The bear hit the bush so I saddled up and went to the ridge and my friend went to the other ridge to see if we could find him and put him out of his pain. Now wounded bears normally do not go high, I was on my trusty hunting horse my rifle over the pommel and was looking down trying to spot the bear. Turned the bush on the ridge my horse left me in other words rifle went one way I went the other the horse went to the barn in matter of speaking. Ever see a man in boots, spurs, with heavy bull-hide chaps on climb a pine tree with the first limb way up there high. Even the squirrels was applauding and amazed at the speed I went up the tree. Yes we did put the bear down it is funny now but not at that moment
 

Rapidrob

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I was deer hunting in Pine Valley, in the mountains of Southern CA, in late 1975 while stationed at San Diego. We had been hunting since dawn and my ship mate got a nice 6 point buck.
We had entered a canyon and climbed the mountain slope to the left side. My ship mate wanted to do the right side of the canyon. We flipped a coin,I won.
He dressed out the deer and we were walking back to my Land Cruiser when we heard a distant rumble.
I looked up as we were on the side of a mountain overlooking a steep gorge and I through I saw a 4-wheel drive vehicle really moving out on the right side of the canyon slope, and kicking up a very pronounced dust trail. It sounded like a freight train under full load.
After a few seconds we realized it was not a vehicle, it was an earth quake and the ground was splitting apart!
The quake was circling around the back side of the canyon and was heading in our direction much faster than we could run and there was a very large rock overhang above our heads a few hundred feet farther up the mountain.
We beat-feet down the slope of the mountain slope covering a good quarter mile in just a few minutes.
The quakes new fault line never reached where we were but the ground stayed moving for several more seconds with several after shocks. There were several large boulders and loose rocks rolling all around us as we descended the mountain side.
When we reached the bottom of the canyon we headed to the Ranger Station ten miles away to report in that we were OK, as we had listed our hunt with them for that morning. They were going to send out a party to look for us and another group deer hunting who had reported in via radio.
I had marked on the map where the fault line had formed. It turns out it had split the earth for about several miles.
No one on the ship believed us when we returned until the quake made the evening news that night.
Had he won the coin toss,no telling what may have happened to us.
 

TriggerF350

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A couple friends and I went moose hunting in Alaska. A float plane flew us into the Brooks Range north of the Arctic Circle for a 14 day hunt. We ended up getting weathered in for 3 extra days, so it turned out to be 17 days. During the hunt 6 wolves passed by my location at less that 15 yards. I was able to take a couple of them with some quick shots from my .375 H&H. We moved camp and flew to a new area and the plane nearly didn’t make it off the lake almost hitting some trees because we were over weight due to a pontoon was leaking and full of water. Later on my friend got a moose. Once we packed it back to camp, a grizzly bear located it and came to take it at night. Ill tell you what, there is nothing more frightening that a giant grizzly in the dark. He took what he wanted and we never tried to stop him. Other than yelling into the dark while waving pistols and flashlights in his direction. The next day we tried very hard to cache our meat better but there wasn’t much we could do once he found it. It was the greatest adventure I have ever been on and I will remember it the rest of my life.
 

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