Memories of long past hunts

I have some trepidation about sharing some of the not so smooth hunts: while not intentional, the mess of chasing wounded animals is not good publicity for hunting in general. But it happens... and while I've been fortunate to hit cleanly or just miss, I've helped messy recoveries and had my own messy "successes".

My early days I'd get buck fever terribly. I still get excited, but not debilitating... observing it in others has some entertainment value and evokes a knowing smile. The worst shot I delivered in a deer I bolloxed the first couple shots: a small buck emerged from the woods onto my field and continued moving along the edge and down a knoll. Crap, no shot. But in a few minutes reappeared back tracking quickly and haphazard grazing as he traveled. Upon clearing the bit of brush I fired: no result, fired again, no result. On the third or fourth shot he turned away from me undisturbed in his travel and I finally connected. He fell but let out a pathetic moan/grunt. Turns out my scope I should have been using the iron sights rather than the optic which was sighted for longer distance. (back in my ignorant youth when I thought hunting was sniping) I hit the deer in the hind end just beside the anus: Fortunately the bullet completely missed the guts... but it smeared one of the tenderloins, spine and I can't remember if it ended up in the chest cavity... it did the job, but what a sad state and mess. I was trying to hit it above the shoulders in the neck. f:P: I'd be an embarrassed failure doing this now. Many years after that I'd roll my eyes listening to the wild west shootouts going on and wonder at the inadequacy in precision. Yes, probably running shots some of them. But every year a guy goes out he'll hear a rifle four-five shots in quick succession and know those missed. The report often has a tell of what transpired: A miss over a long distance is distinct, a hit will change the sound.

Sometime since then hunting with a couple other guys we had our own "shootout" at the OK corral. Another guy with buckshot fired rapidly at a running deer and somehow managed to "cleanly" fracture the front leg below the knee. It only went a hundred yards into the bush we found out after waiting to initiate search. And the shootout continued with rifleman in the mix before the deer was finally downed. We laugh about the "shootout at the OK corral" element thinking back... maybe I've become a pedantic old fudd (in some respects but perhaps maturity is correct?) but I tend to frown on the crazy hails of lead when well placed rounds are not unachievable goals in a mystical universe. I still enjoy the pursuit that hunting presents, even the dumb stories still have some entertainment value and certainly valuable lessons, but it seems the best stories are those where a hunt had adversity, but it was successful with the cherry on top of the shot being efficient and experienced with fine company.
 
Eagleye said:
Each animal was cut into 4 quarters before it froze solid. You get a fair supply of edible meat from a mature bison. :) Dave.
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Thanks Dave. Yes, I am hoping to bring back a couple coolers of bison after my hunt, whenever that takes place now.

Doug
 
It's a general rule of thumb that rapid firing can be ignored as far as having to drag game. Rapid firing generally means a miss. Rambo in our camp was one of those guys that thought volume made up for accuracy.
His exploits in that regard are legendary in the camp. Way back he had a massive magazine for his 30M1 carbine. He'd empty that thing with nothing but scarred up trees to show for it. Really pissed him off when they cut the mag limits. He never did kill anything with the M1, He killed several with his 270 though. It had just enough recoil that he had to slow down.
Same with his Winchester Defender. He could fire three rounds out of that shotgun so fast that it sounded like one long report, but always missed. He concentrated on speed, not accuracy.
He was a guy that should have been given one round to hunt with. Then maybe he'd have been more careful.
 
That puts me in mind of a hunter from my home town. Ted went deer hunting every year, might have been one of the guys who went to Manitoulin. His son Mike was a good buddy of mine, and we thought Ted walked on water. Anyways, every year he took ONE cartridge. If he did not shoot his deer with one cartridge, the deer won. RIP Ted.

Doug
 
The dogger on really cold days has it pretty good. He's warm. If he's a good guy, he keeps in mind that the rest of the lads are likely frozen near solid.

Thus it was, this morning in the late 90's when I'd taken the canoe for a run down the pond from the cabin we had rented that year up to where I was to dog from.
It was the first year we had hunted there, and as such it was the first time I'd tried the canoe stunt. My dogs were very used to the canoe, they loved it, so no issues there. But, I was not prepared for a beaver dam, or for ice above it. I was late getting started on the run. When I finally got landed the guys had already been there an hour and a half or so.

Light snow on the ground, not a track in sight, but as I got down closer to the cabin the dogs took off on a chase. I swear the deer sounded like it ran right over one of our guys, but no shots fired. Not by our guys anyway, there were shots in the distance. I knew I was returning to the cabin on foot, so there was no real likelihood of losing the dogs, they'd follow my tracks back to the cabin. So, bearing in mind that the guys were cold, I started up my hound imitation to continue the chase.

On my very first howl there was a shot. It sounded like a cannon, and I seriously hit the dirt, I thought I was being shot at. It was close. Realizing at once that I was not being shot at, I finished the chase, to find my uncle with a 200lb doe. He said it just appeared as if by magic as soon as I opened my mouth. He was only 50 yards from me, but just over the top of the rise, so I was completely safe. But I didn't know it at the time.

Very proud moment for both of us there. The first time I'd brought him a deer. There's a special feeling when it's one of your relatives, and I did it the old way, without dogs, just me.

The area we hunted was this time private land. We had rented it's use with the cabin. That was nice. No other hunters to be concerned about.

The spot where that deer fell became known as geezer hill. The following two days, two more deer fell there, they fell within 50 yards of the first deer, to two different guys, so that three guys over 60 had shot deer on the same watch a day apart. With three gut piles there, the ravens were really happy.
 
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My very first duck hunt.

My cousin and I started this off a few weeks in advance, going out to build a blind. he had a Peterborough canoe, but the gunnels were off of it, as he was "fixing them". This meant the stays stuck up all along both sides, and you had to be real careful paddling or you'd lose the hide off your wrists.

We had a bunch of boards in the bottom, and a hunk of plywood balanced across the top. By this time we were both chunky guys, and the keel-less canoe was tippy as hell.

So down the wide swampy creek we went looking for a spot. It seemed every decent spot was already sprouting a blind, but, eventually we found a spot where a stump and a bit of mud stuck out of the mix of reeds and wild rice. As I went to step out, the canoe gave a sudden (I'm sure it was assisted) lurch, and I was up to my nuts in water/mud. Took about ten years before I got payback on that one.
Several trips around gathering blind materials, branches sticks, and cedar, and we got that done.
Not a great spot for decoys, but, we'd deal with it.

Time passes

Opening day we arrived at the landing and hour and a half before light, to find it already plugged with cars and trucks and trailers. Good thing we had the canoe, as it would have been a real challenge getting near the launch with a boat. Off we go, loaded down with gear, and enough ammo for an army.

Ok, just where is the blind? Scanning the wall of reeds with a flashlight, everything looks the same. Friggin hell, we should have marked that stump where we turn into the reeds, they all look the same. Ok, there it is! But where's the channel? We grounded a good half dozen times before we finally got in there. With all the gear out of the canoe, my cousin went back out in the now lighter canoe and put out our decoys.

It was still black dark, and hoar frost had formed on the barrels of the shotguns. We sat quietly chilling, drinking coffee and shivering. Neither of us had expected it to be this cold.

In the blackness the woosh of what were probably Green Winged Teal shot over us. Then the honk of geese far above. We could hear voices up the creek as a boat aproached, couldn't understand them. But they were closer than we'd like, probably within a hundred yards. We made damned sure they knew we were there. Turned out later they had just pulled their boat into the reeds randomly. We had been there first, but these guys didn't seem to care or they didn't understand us.

As dawn broke the shelling began the guys in that boat fired like an AA battery. We could hear shot whir overhead a few times and laid a few curses on them. The temptation to return fire is strong in a young man, but we did not do so. They eventually moved up the creek.

We were laying down a pretty good hail of lead ourselves, probably went through two boxes of shells each. We had no mentors, no way of practicing, we were learning on the 'fly'. I know for certain most of the shots we took were at ducks out of range, but I clearly remember the first time I saw a flight of teal maneuver to try and go around a pattern. I don't remember for certain, but I think we went home empty that day.

We were both using Lakefield Mossberg Pump guns. And as the day wore on, both guns failed almost at the same time. The pump slides broke loose from the bolt. My cousin got his fixed later, I took mine back for refund. He ended up repairing his twice more before it finally stayed put. He still uses it.

I do remember this tremendous boom from up the creek. We could see this guy, maybe 200yards away with this incredible long barrel. He didn't fire often, but when he did, something fell. Met him later on the landing he had a Marlin bolt operated Goose gun. The damned thing was almost as tall as he was, or so it seemed, and he had a canoe full of ducks.

MNR was at the landing checking game and for plugged mags etc. Our show was we thought embarrassing, but apparently it wasn't according to the MNR. Lots of guys went home empty.

Later we figured a way to get in some practice, and eventually, we began to score ducks.
 
All of my time 'on stand' when we hunted with dogs was either sitting or standing on the ground. Over the last few decades that has meant doing so dressed like a flaming pumpkin in ten mile orange.

Now it is said that deer don't see colour, but I figure if you saw this stuff in B&W it would still look a very bright white. Hardly something to hide in.

My best way of doing so has always been to be absolutely still. If any motion at all is needed, to do so with thought, and great care to make the motions soundless and less visible.

This has brought me great encounters, not just with deer, but with other wildlife. I've had a few Martens come right up to me. I had a fox approach, sit down and stare at me from ten yards, then yawn and wander off. Grouse were a regular and a few rabbits. They were only in danger if I were doing the dogging, I'd never shoot one while on watch.

Birds of all kinds, but most memorable are the several encounters with Barred Owls. Some very close, and a few Pileated woodpeckers.

Once while seated against a tree, I heard a noise, and then as I scanned the bush with my eyes first, before turning my head, a Pileated woodpecker let out that loud laughing call of theirs from a couple of feet above my head. The first noise had been the large bird landing on the tree. Yes, that made me jump.

My first encounter with a wolf was while seated near a tree. It was a very fleeting encounter, or I would have shot that. A grey dog like form moving with absolute silence and surprising speed over the ridge in front of me. That was in the early 1970's, when coyotes were few in numbers here.

Ravens are curious, and will play. I stood on top of a tall stump trying to be a part of the stump, looking over reeds while moose hunting. It was just day break, and the ravens had roosted across the swamp.
When they took flight together, there were maybe twenty, they began a game of tag, flying upside down, grabbing at each others feet, and doing other aerobatics. Then they spotted me, and I became part of the game. They began to dive at me like fighters, pulling up at the last moment, closer and closer, their wings roaring in the air as they passed. I made no movement, and they gave up eventually.

BTW, something passed by while I was on that stump, and I still don't know what it was. Bear? Moose? it never raised it's head above the reeds. Even when I yelled at it it just moseyed on. The scope showed only that it was black and wet. We had bear tags, but only a calf moose tag that year. I let it pass, there being no way I could get in front of it.
 
My first time in a hang on stand.

after reading about them, lots of great success stories, how guys loved this brand, or that, I finally went out and got me one, complete with the fall arrest system, climbing belt and a bunch of screw in steps.

It didn't take long to figure out just how much of a PIA this thing is. Hanging off the tree trying to attach a stand that seemed light, but wasn't when your trying to get the chain and straps hooked up to the tree, and it's swinging around if it's tilted even slightly. But eventually I got it.

Now I realized when I bought it that the seat on this rig is pretty small. Or maybe my butt is just big I dunno.. But it was far from comfortable, and lack of comfort leads to squirming around. Something you don't want to do when hunting. If you choose to stand, you could fold the seat up. Something you'd definitely want to do, as the mesh under your feet ends precariously close to your toes, and there's no safety railing on these things.

I was hunting alone the entire time I used this thing. I got better at hanging it over time. But one day while standing up there, my eye caught the steps sticking out of the sides of the tree, and I thought.'Ya know, if a fella was to doze off up here, that fall arrest thing would break my fall. And, also pull me tight against the tree to be impaled on those damned steps.

I saw a lot of deer, and some 'yotes while using that stand, and shot a few of them. I used it both in rifle, and in bow season, but sold it shortly after that realization.

One day I was hunting up on a tall granite ridge lined with oaks, on a heavy deer trail in bow season. The area is, or was at that time, hunted by camps with dogs through the gun season, and pretty much empty of hunters in the bow season. A few lost dogs wandered the bush, and I tried to catch and take them to the local store when I could. Coyotes and wolves also followed that trail, out from hiding wherever they go during the rifle hunt. I saw few during the rifle hunt, but many during bow season.

Getting back to the ridge. There was about 3" of fresh snow, and a bitter wind that day. From where I was I could see a deer maybe a hundred yards in the best direction. But the view over the trees to distant ridges and lakes was stellar. Already that morning I'd had a cow moose walk below me, one of the few in the area. Moose were just starting to return to the area at that time.

I was doing muscle flexes and holding my breath, various tricks to keep my circulation going and extend my stay, but I knew I would not last much longer. That's when I heard the pack of coyotes on the hunt. It was about 10am, they were headed my way it sounded. Suddenly I was warm... sort of anyway. For a while they sounded like they were just down the ridge top from me, then they crossed to the valley below me. A lone fawn tore up the hillside full tilt and over the top, no sign of pursuit.

A noise behind me proved to be a yearling doe also running flat out in the same direction. Then, a soft noise from a small patch of scrub bush maybe 30ft from the base of the stand. A 6 pointer stood up. He had to have been there when I climbed the stand before first light! He stood broadside to me, staring at the sounds the coyotes were making. He didn't stand there long. He jumped slightly as the bolt went through him, and took off up the ridge. He stopped at about 50 yards, looked towards the coyotes, and fell.

I never did see the coyotes. That was a nice spot, as the drag was nearly always down hill, and the Jeep could drive right up to the bottom.
 
John Y Cannuck said:
My first time in a hang on stand.

after reading about them, lots of great success stories, how guys loved this brand, or that, I finally went out and got me one, complete with the fall arrest system, climbing belt and a bunch of screw in steps.

It didn't take long to figure out just how much of a PIA this thing is. Hanging off the tree trying to attach a stand that seemed light, but wasn't when your trying to get the chain and straps hooked up to the tree, and it's swinging around if it's tilted even slightly. But eventually I got it.

Now I realized when I bought it that the seat on this rig is pretty small. Or maybe my butt is just big I dunno.. But it was far from comfortable, and lack of comfort leads to squirming around. Something you don't want to do when hunting. If you choose to stand, you could fold the seat up. Something you'd definitely want to do, as the mesh under your feet ends precariously close to your toes, and there's no safety railing on these things.

I was hunting alone the entire time I used this thing. I got better at hanging it over time. But one day while standing up there, my eye caught the steps sticking out of the sides of the tree, and I thought.'Ya know, if a fella was to doze off up here, that fall arrest thing would break my fall. And, also pull me tight against the tree to be impaled on those damned steps.

I saw a lot of deer, and some 'yotes while using that stand, and shot a few of them. I used it both in rifle, and in bow season, but sold it shortly after that realization.

One day I was hunting up on a tall granite ridge lined with oaks, on a heavy deer trail in bow season. The area is, or was at that time, hunted by camps with dogs through the gun season, and pretty much empty of hunters in the bow season. A few lost dogs wandered the bush, and I tried to catch and take them to the local store when I could. Coyotes and wolves also followed that trail, out from hiding wherever they go during the rifle hunt. I saw few during the rifle hunt, but many during bow season.

Getting back to the ridge. There was about 3" of fresh snow, and a bitter wind that day. From where I was I could see a deer maybe a hundred yards in the best direction. But the view over the trees to distant ridges and lakes was stellar. Already that morning I'd had a cow moose walk below me, one of the few in the area. Moose were just starting to return to the area at that time.

I was doing muscle flexes and holding my breath, various tricks to keep my circulation going and extend my stay, but I knew I would not last much longer. That's when I heard the pack of coyotes on the hunt. It was about 10am, they were headed my way it sounded. Suddenly I was warm... sort of anyway. For a while they sounded like they were just down the ridge top from me, then they crossed to the valley below me. A lone fawn tore up the hillside full tilt and over the top, no sign of pursuit.

A noise behind me proved to be a yearling doe also running flat out in the same direction. Then, a soft noise from a small patch of scrub bush maybe 30ft from the base of the stand. A 6 pointer stood up. He had to have been there when I climbed the stand before first light! He stood broadside to me, staring at the sounds the coyotes were making. He didn't stand there long. He jumped slightly as the bolt went through him, and took off up the ridge. He stopped at about 50 yards, looked towards the coyotes, and fell.

I never did see the coyotes. That was a nice spot, as the drag was nearly always down hill, and the Jeep could drive right up to the bottom.
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I LOVE a story with a happy ending!:d
 
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