Best hunting memory thread

Alan

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We’ve all got that one hunt we still think about years later. It could be your first deer or a funny moment. Whatever it is, drop your best hunting memory here, let’s hear the ones that stuck with you.
 
I was coyote hunting one night (11:30) in Oct. and I was sitting next to a big tree, which was located in the middle of field. I had checked this area out during the day time to make sure no live stock was around.

I then proceeded to begin calling and in about 1 min. into the calling, a very scary sound and wind hit the back of my neck. I swung around with the headlight and there in my face just inches from me, was a horse. He scared the S....out of me.

After I let out the initial scream, he or she then headed out across the field, and I was moving a good pace back to truck. So, after that episode I never went back to that spot again.
 
Drove up to the desert outside Palmdale (in CA) one time with a buddy to hunt some of the scraggly coyotes that frequent the open ranges areas there. All I remember is a freak snow storm hit the area just as we were settling in. Zip, nada, zilch, and froze my patootie off.
 
Back in 1969-70 I was working for the FDA Forest Service and was stationed at Cachuma Saddle Station in the Los Padres National Forest. Lived there for 5-days each week and had two weekdays off. One of my compatriots did some coyote hunting from there. He had a Cap and Ball Remington Replica black powder Pistol and he'd use that. He would cover a big flashlight (3"-diameter lens) with red plastic, take his portable cassette player with him along with the recording of a screaming rabbit. That was the most blood-curdling tape I ever heard.

He'd set up in a spot that would funnel the coyotes to him as they approached and play that tape. Then he'd move that red light across the area in front of him. with the beam about 3-ft. above the ground so it never hit the coyote's directly in their eyes. That would light up the coyote's eyes without scaring them away as they'd come in closer. When it came into a range he was comfortable with he kill them with his 44-cal. BP pistol. He'd then cut off its ears in a big strip and dispose of the bodies later down a particular canyon. There was a bounty in that county at the time and they paid something like $7 per set of ears. That was what actually got me involved with BP shooting. I went to a local hardware store to buy an 1860 Colt reproduction and they'd just sold their last one. So I bought a Pedersoli cap and ball "Kentucky Pistol" and that got me started.
 
A friend encouraged me to buy a Lyman Hawken percussion muzzle loader kit, which I assembled, browned the metal and practiced with. I got fairly decent with it, at least on cans and targets and in the meantime, Tom had big plans.

Way-western Washington...Wahkiakum, Pacific, Grays Harbor, etc. are notorious for their wet weather. Tom had determined that Wahkiakum County's muzzle loading season was early enough to be still in the usual late-summer dry days and who wouldn't want a chance at those big Roosevelt elk?

So we made reservations at Cathlamet's only motel and Tom, Adam (his high school age son) and I climbed into my pickup and sailed west. We had all fished in the area, so were somewhat familiar with Wahkiakum county. Plus, there is the Julia Butler Hanson Refuge. Elk were known to bugle in the area and we knew of an area not too many miles away that looked promising.

The motel was a little....OK, a lot...grim. But it was bed bug free and the sheets were clean...probably. We went to supper at Cathlamet's only restaurant. Food was OK...we're roughing it right? Midway through the meal, one of Wahkiakum's finest marched in, hand on gun and demanded we all get up slowly and walk ahead of him to the Sheriff's Office.

Out on the sidewalk, he demanded to know "where do you keep the drugs?" Seems someone had reported that Tom stuck a needle in his arm just before we entered the cafe.

Tom explained he was diabetic, showed the lawman his kit and medical advice tag. It took some explaining, but afterwards we were finally allowed to go back to our supper. Which was now cold.

The next day dawned bright and sunny....not. Actually, we got up 3 hours before daylight, drove to our predetermined spots and sat on stumps in a chilling rain. We had the foresight, just in case, to bring clingwrap and rubber bands to seal the muzzles and did bring rain gear (we're not that dumb), but no elk appeared. Nor did we find any as we later skulked through the woods. At the end of the day, we fired our rifles into stumps so as to not drive loaded, and returned to the motel. At least the guns went "bang," so we knew our clingwrap worked.

Give us credit. We did this for two more days, before returning home, cold and wet. Thus came the Black Powder Hunt phrase, "Shoot and Release."

We did have a bit of excitement on day two: I was startled by a grey shape ghosting through the trees. Turned out to be some of the locals picking mushrooms. So we returned to my pickup to find another area to hunt. When the mushroom guys caught sight of Adam, one exclaimed, "You sure are a good-looking boy!" Shades of Deliverance. Adam stuck next to either Tom or me the rest of the hunt.

I will say the Hawken rifle does look good on the wall in my Man Cave.
 
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A friend encouraged me to buy a Lyman Hawken percussion muzzle loader kit, which I assembled, browned the metal and practiced with. I got fairly decent with it, at least on cans and targets and in the meantime, Tom had big plans.

Way-western Washington...Wahkiakum, Pacific, Grays Harbor, etc. are notorious for their wet weather. Tom had determined that Wahkiakum County's muzzle loading season was early enough to be still in the usual late-summer dry days and who wouldn't want a chance at those big Roosevelt elk?

So we made reservations at Cathlamet's only motel and Tom, Adam (his high school age son) and I climbed into my pickup and sailed west. We had all fished in the area, so were somewhat familiar with Wahkiakum county. Plus, there is the Julia Butler Hanson Refuge. Elk were known to bugle in the area and we knew of an area not too many miles away that looked promising.

The motel was a little....OK, a lot...grim. But it was bed bug free and the sheets were clean...probably. We went to supper at Cathlamet's only restaurant. Food was OK...we're roughing it right? Midway through the meal, one of Wahkiakum's finest marched in, hand on gun and demanded we all get up slowly and walk ahead of him to the Sheriff's Office.

Out on the sidewalk, he demanded to know "where do you keep the drugs?" Seems someone had reported that Tom stuck a needle in his arm just before we entered the cafe.

Tom explained he was diabetic, showed the lawman his kit and medical advice tag. It took some explaining, but afterwards we were finally allowed to go back to our supper. Which was now cold.

The next day dawned bright and sunny....not. Actually, we got up 3 hours before daylight, drove to our predetermined spots and sat on stumps in a chilling rain. We had the foresight, just in case, to bring clingwrap and rubber bands to seal the muzzles and did bring rain gear (we're not that dumb), but no elk appeared. Nor did we find any as we later skulked through the woods. At the end of the day, we fired our rifles into stumps so as to not drive loaded, and returned to the motel. At least the guns went "bang," so we knew our clingwrap worked.

Give us credit. We did this for two more days, before returning home, cold and wet. Thus came the Black Powder Hunt phrase, "Shoot and Release."

We did have a bit of excitement on day two: I was startled by a grey shape ghosting through the trees. Turned out to be some of the locals picking mushrooms. So we returned to my pickup to find another area to hunt. When the mushroom guys caught sight of Adam, one exclaimed, "You sure are a good-looking boy!" Shades of Deliverance. Adam stuck next to either Tom or me the rest of the hunt.

I will say the Hawken rifle does look good on the wall in my Man Cave.
Nothing about your hunt was boring!😁
 
In Nebr on my far rural ranch land a dear friend came up to get 'his' deer. He bought a tag (buck) for our area and I wanted him to get one. This guy has an FFL and was my firearm mentor. He came ready with a ridiculous monster magnum semi-auto built for serious stuff. He had been having some personal/family/work problems. I was a way off in a different draw with transportation and a ranch rifle (open sights) but I wasn't hunting. I heard a bunch of shots and movement. A really big heavy body white tail buck came running into the canyon, jumped the stream and up the other side. Shortly after a likewise doe came down, jumped the stream and just stopped, 100+yds. I, well, pulled up and shot. It dropped like a box of rocks. Luck shot.

I walked and crossed the stream to investigate and I had hit it through the spine right below the crown. No loss of meat and the fastest kill I've ever experienced. When he got down to me and asked about MY shot and I pointed across the stream with the carcass lying there. We weren't gonna drag it across as it was 20' to the bottom, steep sides and sandhills sand. So we stretched out the line (Landcruiser with a PTO winch) across the steam to a higher point and tied the deer to the snatch block. When I backed up the deer just wheeled its way across the steam like a zip line to our side.

But it was a doe. And he was frustrated because he didn't get 'his' buck. Who cares? But he boned it out immediately because he had to be back the next day. Opps, he didn't save any identifying stuff.

All kinds of people might flip out over this story for 'illegality'. To me, it is MY land. I've been feeding alfalfa from my pastures to these critters for years and years. If I or a dear friend want an animal for food, darn it, I have some rights too so as to harvest am animal on a mile by mile section of my land.

Alan, you may delete this story. I hope not. I hope that when someone owns their own land, especially if it is not an acre or two that land owners have rights. And I shouldn't have to apply for those rights to actually use that animal internally. And yes, I've have black and white deer shot and left for dead by road hunters.

We live in interesting times. But in the end it is not our land and the wildlife is not ours. Doesn't that make the hair on you neck stand up?
 
For those of you than don't own land you SHOULD have different rules. You don't get to go on private or public land or road hunt. If you want a place to hunt then buy a parcel. If you want to rip and roar with your ATV, SxS or coyote rig then buy some land and maintain it and stay on your land.

The reason this stuff is out of hand is because people cheat. And of course of you hunt on your own land they are not your animals because they might roam on other land. But if you contain them with a fence you need permits or it's not allowed.

OK, rant over.
 
I did a lot of bird hunting in Klickitat County. During the summer, a friend and I would introduce ourselves to the owner of the property we'd like to hunt, provide proof of liability insurance and explain where we'd like to hunt. We were never turned down (one farmer wanted assurance we knew the difference between a chukar and a chicken). Return trips were facilitated by gifts of our wives' baking prowess.
Today, many of the private lands have been leased by exclusive hunting clubs. Guess I hunted in "the good old days."

Nebraska? Born in Scottsbluff, aunt and uncle had a wheat farm near Crawford.


 
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