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Old 10-13-2014, 04:44 PM   #101
Loreva13
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Cool story M.E.B.
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Old 10-13-2014, 09:31 PM   #102
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Great stories !!
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Old 10-15-2014, 11:36 AM   #103
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Great Job Everybody............Mark Awesome Idea!
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Old 10-16-2014, 12:55 PM   #104
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Second Chance Bushbuck

September 2007 found me in the Limpopo region of South Africa on my second African bowhunt. I was using my 66” 2 piece Massie longbow, 57lbs at my 28” draw. For arrows, I was using Grizzlystics tipped with 125 grain 4-blade Magnus Stingers screwed into a 100 grain brass insert for a total arrow weight of 620 grains.

I had taken several nice animals and on Friday my PH, Antonie, asked if I was interested in a Bushbuck. I told him I was and he said they had access to a piece of property in the mountains near Thabazimbi that had a good population of Bushbuck. Of course I was interested and we made plans to hunt there on Saturday.

Saturday morning we got to the blind overlooking a waterhole at about 7:30. This blind was sitting on a 8 or 10 foot high bank about 6 yards from the edge of the waterhole. I would be sitting by myself. I put my gear, along with lunch and water for an allday sit. I also had a radio so I could contact Antonie. About 9:30 a young ram bushbuck came in. Something spooked him before he drank, but I wasn’t interested in shooting him anyway. During the rest of the morning, several different animals including Impala, Blue Wildebeest, and Mountain Reedbuck came to the water.

Throughout the morning I could see several Zebra holding back from the water. One of them was a nice stallion that I would have taken if he had presented a shot. One of my biggest regrets is that I had passed on a great Zebra on my first trip to Africa, but that’s a story for another day.

At about 4:50pm a really nice bushbuck came into the far side of the waterhole. Finally he committed to drink. He was at about 18 yards and perfectly broadside. I picked a spot, came to a solid anchor and let the string slide off my fingers. Thunk…. I felt my upper limb make contact with the metal roof of the blind. With a sinking heart I watched my arrow dive low into the bushbuck’s shoulder. It looked like the arrow centered the knuckle joint and I got almost no penetration. I got on the Radio and called Antonie. I told him what the hit looked like. We agreed that there was little likelihood we would recover him but we spent hours that evening and next morning searching. An interesting sidenote is that the Bushbuck is one of the antelopes that can be aggressive when pushed so Antonie was prepared with his rifle when we were tracking. Since, in Africa, if you draw blood you have to pay the trophy fee, that bad hit had just cost me $900.

I still wanted a Bushbuck so we made plans to hunt that property again on Thursday. This time Antonie sat with me and we got into the blind about 7:50am. Antonie set up the video camera and we waited to see what would develop. Because of what happened on Saturday I drew my bow several times to check clearance. The roof was a little low so I was going to have to watch my bow cant when I shot. If I had been shooting my 62” bow I don’t think there would have been a problem. During the course of the morning several varieties of animals came in including a nice bushbuck but none offered a shot.

At about 9:50 a bushbuck came from behind the blind and when down the bank and started drinking about 6yards from the blind. Antonie whispered “shoot”. Because of the steep angle and the low roof of the blind I knew it was going to be a difficult shot. He was at a sharp angle away from me. I picked a spot that would have the arrow exiting through the off shoulder, came to anchor and dropped the string. Thunk…I heard the now familiar sound of my upper limb brushing the roof of the blind. In the excitement and haste of the shot I had neglected to watch the cant of my bow. From the time I saw the bushbuck and Antonie said shoot until I dropped the string was about 10 seconds. Antonie said the hit looked too far back.

We waited about an hour and crawled out of the blind. I’m feeling kind of low. Antonie grabs his rifle and we, including the African tracker, start tracking. We found some blood, but not a lot. We followed the track about 200 yards and the tracker spots the bushbuck dead under a tree. We were only about 75 yards from a bushroad so we drug him out to the road. While we waited, we sent the tracker for the truck. Antonie walked down the road a short distance and called to me, I walked down and he showed me a fresh Leopard track in the dust.

I had hit the bushbuck just in front of the left hip, the arrow had went through the liver and took out the right lung.
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Old 10-18-2014, 08:26 AM   #105
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Surely some of you other trad hunters have stories you could share. I've really enjoyed this thread.
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Old 10-18-2014, 09:08 AM   #106
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Cool story. I'm going in July. Getting excited.
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Old 10-18-2014, 10:40 AM   #107
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When my youngest boy was 11 I let him start bowhunting for deer. I bought him a Howatt Mamba pulling 30 lbs at his draw. I set him up in a tripod about 100 yds from me that I had been corning for several days. I arranged several sticks and rocks about 7 yds from his stand. He was told not to shoot unless the deer was within that cirlce.

I climbed up into my tripod and was waiting on the feeder to throw. About 30 mins into my hunt I hear him come running up from behind me. His eyes were wide and he was just about as excited as an eleven yr old could be. I said "Did you shoot something?" He said "Yes. A great big doe!" "Great! Where did you hit her?" He looked down and mumbled "Right in the butt."

I said "Uh OH, how long ago." He said "I ran here right after I shot." Well I was recupering from a torn achillies tendon and was wearing a cast so the walk through the woods took about 20 mins so we headed slowly that way.

We arrived at the tripod and within the circle was blood. Actually quite a bit. It lead straight up a steep hill that the stand was next too. "Well" I thought "That is not a good sign." There was a pretty decent blood trail so we started slowly climbing the hill.

After about 40 yds my son says "There she is!" We walked up to the deer. The spots were barely visible. The arrow had hit the deer in the hindquarter from the rear and went into the body cavity. My boy got a terrible look on his face and said "She looked a lot bigger when I shot her." I laughed and told him "Yeah they all do." When he realized that I was not mad he started smiling again and brushed the deer's coat. I told him "11 yrs old with a recurve, first deer thats a trophy. It won't be hard to shoot a bigger one now. You start dragging and I will go get the truck."
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Old 10-18-2014, 10:43 AM   #108
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Great story Mike.
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Old 10-22-2014, 05:12 PM   #109
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Tree Snake

When my boys were ages 7ish and 9ish, now 33 and 35 we went on a javalina hunt. I don't remember where. It was a 3 day hunt.

So we pull up fairly late. It was dark. We saw a camp fire so I headed the truck in that direction. There was a fire. A little guy sitting on a stump on the left. A good sized fellow in a hammock in the middle and a taller lanky guy if I remember correctly on the right.

As I pull up and my headlights hit the group they are looking at me probably blinded by the lights. Now what I saw looking at them was about a 5'-6' long snake with about half its body wrapped around a branch and the other half hanging and twisting in space about 4' directly above the guy on the hammock. The snake appeared to be looking for a soft place to land.

I got out of the truck. They started to protest about my lights which were still shining on them. I was pointing at the snake trying to explain myself. Well before I can say snake it got to be entertaining.

The tall lanky guy on the rights start saying in a very calm quiet voice, "Get out of the hammock real slow." The hammock guys says "What?" Lanky boy in a nice even tone "Get out of the hammock real slow."

Well about this time the guy on the left looks up and sees the snake. He does a back flip off the back of the stump and is now jumping up in down in place screaming "Get outta the hammock! Get outta the hammock!"

The guy on the right is still saying in a calming voice, "Get out of the hammock real slow." The other guy is having a --it fit.

Well the big fellow in the hammock finally looks up and sees the snake. He is desparately trying to get out of the hammock but those big buttons on the back pockets on his camo pants are caught and he cannot get out of the hamock.

He is trying to get out of the hammock. During all of this time the snake is doing a twisting and turning dance in the air above his head. His eye are wide and he said a few things......

He finally grabs the side of the hammock and flips it over and is trying to crawl off on his hands and knees but the hammock still has him by his butt buttons and keeps pulling him back under the snake. He is clawing the ground. He is screaming. His buddies are yelling. I am laughing my 4$$ off.

The buttons finally pop and he gets away. He then gets up walks up to the snake which is about eye level. He says "Oh, its just a king snake." He snatches it by the head and carrys it to his friends who tell him if he does not turn that thing loose far from camp they will kill him.

Funniest thing I have ever saw in my llife.

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Old 10-22-2014, 05:35 PM   #110
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Hilarious Mike.
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Old 11-07-2014, 10:47 PM   #111
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Mistaken Identity Kill

Ok I'll tell one on myself.

Several yrs ago my hunting buddy Lance and I were hunting that Fredericksburg ranch I have mentioned in several stories before. It was towards the end of Oct and we had worked the previous night. My youngest son Dusty was with us. Since we were arriving for the afternoon hunt and had been up all night we agreed we would only kill a nice buck as does on this place were pretty easy to come by and we were too tired to deal with cleaning anything but a trophy that evening.

So I am sitting on the stand and it starts getting close to the end of shooting light and this really big doe comes walking by. I am sitting about 16 feet up in a lock on. Well I noticed a MALE PART swinging under her belly. I took a second look. I could even see a bit of red where it should be. I starting thinking. Well I have heard of people shooting does with horns. But I had never heard of anyone ever shooting a buck with no horn pedicals. He looked just like a doe on top.

I think well this is weird. Gonna be calling a biologist tonight. I drew back and made a perfect walking shot on the deer and it turns and bounds off the way that it came. I heard it fall and thrash for a second and then all was quiet. I crawled down and just about ran to camp. I was gonna have some fun with my buddy and son with this one.

I got to camp and told them I had shot a deer. They said "So you shot a trophy buck." "Yep" I said. "This one is really special." They wanted to know size and points and all I would tell them was they were not gonna believe it until they saw it.

So I pretty much walked straight up to the deer as I had heard where it had fallen. They both said "You shot a doe." I said "Thats what yall think. Look at this!" I raised it's rear leg and grabbed its man part and starting shaking it while turning my head to look at their faces. See its got a ----.

My buddy Lance had a look of disbelief on his face. "That's not a ----, its a teet. She walked past me last week. Its swollen and hanging way down. See the reddness on the tip. I think its infected." I looked down at the teet in my hand and my spirits sank.

Lance said. I'll go get the truck but you're cleaning that one on your own."

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Old 11-09-2014, 03:54 PM   #112
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The One That Got Away (ME)

It was September and we were hunting Caribou in Alaska. We were hunting the Mulchatna herd west of Lake Iliamna. I was using a 65 lb longbow with Port Orford cedar arrows tipped with a 2-blade Magnus broadhead. There were three of us on the hunt. We had been dropped off at a high mountain lake by float plane. There was a small grove of trees above the lake that had a nice little stream running through it. My buddy Dennis had hunted the area the year before and had traced the stream out to to it’s head where it came out of the mountain just above camp so we knew it was safe to drink out of. Many stream in Alaska look inviting, but still may contain Ghiardia so you have to be careful.

We set up camp, with the kitchen set up 100 yards from the sleeping tents. There were lots of bears in the area. After we got camp set up we gathered firewood and relaxed for the afternoon. In Alaska you can’t hunt on the same day you’re airborne. This was on the tundra so there are very few trees. Fortunately, there was a lot of driftwood piled up on the shores of the lake and this supplied a ready source of fuel for the fire.

Next morning after a good breakfast we set out to hunt. I made sure all my necessities were loaded into my backpack. When hunting wilderness areas like this you need to be prepared for any emergency. Besides the normal hunting stuff I carry I had added some emergency items. I had a 2 day supply of freeze-dried food, a small folding back-pack stove, stainless steel cup, a space blanket, water purification tablets ,extra socks, extra down vest, rain gear, water proof matches, small first aid kit, extra compass, signal whistle, signaling mirror and paraffin fire starter. I also had a walkie-talkie but figured it would be of limited use in the mountainous terrain. Russ and Dennis would be hunting the ridges north of camp and I would be hunting the mountain south of camp.

After a couple of hours of hiking, I found myself on top of the ridge where I had a good vantage point for glassing. I made myself comfortable and started to glass. I could see a couple of small bands of caribou but nothing I wanted to take. I continued to glass and saw more small bands of caribou, still nothing I wanted to stalk. Just before it was time to start back to camp I spotted a black bear on the slope below me. Since, in addition to my caribou tags I had a black bear tag I was interested. He was moving pretty fast so I didn’t think I could catch up to him. But since he was between me and camp I decided to give it a try. I did not catch sight of him again. Russ and Dennis arrived back at camp 20-30 minutes after I did. Russ had taken a small black bear. We put the bear meat in the stream downstream from camp and Russ salted down the hide.

Next morning when we got up we could see caribou on the ridge across the lake as well as on the ridge west of us. Since the ridge across the lake was near where I had hunted the previous day I would try for them. Russ and Dennis would go after the ones west of us. It took a couple hours to hike to the ridge top, and when I got there no caribou could be seen. I prepared myself to spend the day glassing as the day before. I saw a few scattered caribou and a couple of black bears, but everything was too small or not in a good position to stalk. When I got back to camp Russ and Dennis were already there. Dennis had killed a caribou cow and he was taking care of the meat. Russ was grilling some bear steaks over a bed of alder coals. This was a young bear and he had been gorging on blueberries. That was some of the best meat I’ve ever eaten.

The third morning we elected to hunt the same areas we had the first morning. I got to my vantage point and settled in for some serious glassing. About mid-morning I spotted a band of caribou with a decent bull in the bunch. But they were moving fast and didn’t present an opportunity for a stalk. A few minutes later I spotted a black bear in a blueberry patch on the slope opposite me. It looked like he would be in the patch for a while so I decided to try a stalk. Using my binoculars I picked out a route that would take advantage of the alder thickets and a couple of ravines that would keep me out of sight until I was in position. I strapped my backpack on and started my stalk. One hour later I had arrived at the head of the ravine that abutted the berry patch the bear was in. It had been at least 30 minutes since I had last been able to see the bear so I was hoping he was still in the patch. As quietly as I could I eased out of my backpack and nocked an arrow. I gave myself a few minutes to prepare and then eased up out of the ravine, longbow at ready.

When I cleared the top of the ravine the bear stood up about 20 yards away and stared at me. He was black but he wasn’t a black bear – he was pure grizzly. We stood there and stared at each other for an eternity. It was running through my mind that if he came for me I was a goner. What should I do? I thought that if I just stood still he might not perceive me as a threat, but I also realized I was probably within his discomfort zone. He began to show some signs of irritation so I decided I needed to do something. I knew I couldn’t out run him and running would probably provoke a chase response. There were no trees to climb. I was confident that I could kill him with my longbow, but I could not stop a charge. I decided that my only course of action was to slowly back over the lip of the ravine. I began to slowly back up, never taking my eyes off the bear. When I was out of sight I dropped my bow and unstrapped the .300 Win Mag from my backpack. That big Magnum was a comfort but I didn’t want to try to stop a charge at point-blank range. As quietly as I could I gathered up my bow and backpack and eased my way down the ravine. It was still early but I made my way back to camp, I was through hunting for the day.

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Old 11-09-2014, 11:32 PM   #113
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Good story. Looks like you were almost bear poop.
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Old 11-10-2014, 04:08 PM   #114
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Yeah, the pucker factor was pretty high for awhile.
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Old 11-26-2014, 05:09 PM   #115
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Anybody else?
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Old 11-26-2014, 07:29 PM   #116
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Still waiting the inspiration for my chapter
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Old 12-23-2014, 09:53 AM   #117
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ttt
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Old 12-23-2014, 10:59 AM   #118
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Alot of good stories here.

MEB I like the one about your boy's "Great Big Doe" Made me chuckle!
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Old 04-28-2015, 06:07 AM   #119
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Thought I would bring this back to the top.
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Old 07-01-2015, 12:19 PM   #120
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ttt
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Old 07-04-2015, 11:21 AM   #121
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Tagged for later reading
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Old 07-08-2015, 09:58 AM   #122
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A Long Walk

In February 2015 my wife and I went to south Texas for our annual pig and javelina hunt. We arrived in camp on Saturday and met a couple of buddies from NC that regularly make the trip. They had a friend with them that was new to bowhunting and was making his first south Texas trip, so there were five of us. After introductions we pitched our tent next to theirs. It had been a long trip from Virginia and North Carolina so we spent the rest of the afternoon sitting around camp relaxing. That night we grilled some steaks, and sipped some cool beverages while reminiscing about past hunts.

My wife and I would be using our longbows, while our buddies were shooting compounds. I would be using my A&H ACS, with Grizzlystic Alaskan shafts tipped with 125grain 4 blade Magnus Stingers. My wife would be using her trusty Massie Longhorn with Gold Tip shafts tipped with 125 grain 2 blade Steelforce. We both have Hawglights on our bows for nighttime hog hunting.

Sunday morning we met up with our outfitters. We have been hunting with them for years and have been become friends so we spent some time catching up. They told us they were going to put us on a section of the ranch we hadn’t hunted before. They also told us that a mountain lion had had been spotted several times in that area. We spent the rest of the day setting our stands and doing a recon on the area we were going to hunt. We would start our 5 day hunt on Monday.

Monday was very windy, a condition which prevailed for most of the week. The animals were very skittish due to the high winds. We usually have a leisurely breakfast and don’t start hunting until midmorning. The javelina don’t usually start moving until midmorning and we usually hunt pigs into the night.

We were seeing some javvies but were not having much success on our stalks. We were also seeing some pigs at night, but without any success. My wife was set up on a wooden platform over a waterhole where there was a feeder and a light set up. I was set up on my quadpod at an intersection of 2 senderos where I had seen a lot of both pig and javvie sign. There was no light at my location so I would have to rely on my bow mounted Hawglight. We spread some corn around the location in hopes some pigs and or javelina would be drawn in.

On Wednesday we spent the day watching some senderos we had corned. Some javvies came out but we were unsuccessful in our stalks. Just before dark I dropped my wife off at her stand and headed out to my stand. I parked my truck where it would be hidden, about 400 yards from my stand, and hiked to my stand. I got settled in to my stand to wait for dark. About ˝ hour before the end of legal shooting light (pigs can be hunted at night, but javvie cannot) 4 javvies crossed the sendero about 75 yards out. One of them was very unusual as it had a blond belt around its body that covered about 1/3 of its body. I had seen many javvies but had never seen one this color. They disappeared into the brush and I somewhat relaxed. About 10 minutes later I heard something on the sendero to my left. I turned my head slowly and spotted 4 javvies approaching. One of them eased out to where I had a shot. I picked a spot, came to anchor and dropped the string. The shot looked good, maybe a bit high. The javvie ran into the brush to my right and disappeared from sight. I could hear the arrow shaft slapping the brush. He suddenly reappeared crossing the sendero in front of me. I heard him thrashing around in the brush in front of me.

By now it had gotten dark and I decided I would wait and hunt pigs awhile before I got down, in hope some pigs would come in. I texted the outfitter and my buddies that I had shot a javvie and was going to hunt a couple more hours. I would text them when I got down and they would come out and help me find the javvie. About 2 hours later I could hear pigs in the brush, but they never came close enough for a shot. I texted the outfitter and got down. I went to my truck and brought it to the intersection where I got my shot. Shortly afterwards the outfitter showed up and we prepared to track my javvie. We were not finding much blood and the cactus and mesquite was really thick. I walked toward where I thought I had heard him thrashing around and there he lay.

Thursday I decided I would hunt the same stand. I parked my truck in the same spot and got on stand about an hour before dark. Just before dark I saw the blonde belt javvie again. He did not come in for a shot. There was no moon so it was really dark. Some pigs came out on the sendero but never came close enough for a shot. About 11:00 I decided I would call it a night. I strapped my head lamp on, gathered my stuff together and climbed out of my stand. Just as my feet touched the ground a mountain lion screamed just down the sendero. It was pitch black and I was armed only with my longbow. That 400 yards to my truck was going to be a long walk.

On Friday night I was sitting on my stand and about 10:00 I got a 2-word text from my buddy……..”Big cat”. A mountain lion had walked under the light where he was sitting.
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Old 11-20-2015, 07:21 AM   #123
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We've had some new trad shooters join us since this was last up, so I'll bring this back to the top. There's some good reading here that they might enjoy. Maybe someone will add some new stories.
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Old 01-04-2016, 03:46 PM   #124
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Great stories Phillip.
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Old 02-10-2016, 06:13 PM   #125
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Thought I would bring this back to the top, some of the newer guys here may not have seen it.
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Old 02-10-2016, 06:30 PM   #126
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Funny you bumped this one. My wife has told me that I should keep a "book" of the hunting stories so I have them as memories. I somewhat blew it off. I was noticing that others video, etc and thought maybe I should just do a book that covers most of my hunts. So today I started by sorting pictures and copying writeups into some docs. For the lack of a better name, they are all in a new folder called "The Book."
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Old 02-10-2016, 07:01 PM   #127
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Fall, 1978. Selway-Bitteroot Wilderness.

I was solo backpack elk hunting. Well, solo except for my Lab. My dogs have always gone everywhere with me. If my dog ain't welcome, I ain't welcome.

I made camp at the upper end of Nelson Lake, 5 or so miles in from the trailhead. In those days, 5 miles in pretty much guaranteed solitude in rifle season, much less bow season. We were sure-enough alone.

I left Mocha in camp, with the stern admonition to stay. I won't have a disobedient dog.

Hunted up toward the divide with Idaho, thinking elk, but also had a bear tag in my pocket.

By the way, Nelson Lake is an amazing geological phenomenon. I'd guess it's about 20-30 acres, maybe more, but it has no apparent outlet.

About a half-mile below, a huge gushing geyser comes blasting out of the side of the mountain. That is the outlet of Nelson Lake, and forms Nelson Creek. It runs underground for a half-mile.

Never seen the like.

So...I'm sneaking up the valley above the lake, into the wind, when I hear an ungodly crashing! Sounds like a house being demolished.

Didn't require any fancy stalking techniques, as the wind was right, and whatever was making the noise was obviously not too concerned with being stealthy.

Still, a man alone in the wilderness with a bow moves cautiously in such a situation.

At least I did.

By the way, my bow was a 65# Howatt Hunter, and my arrows were aluminum 2020s, tipped with Savora 3-blade broadheads. Fletched with plastic vanes, I'm ashamed to say.

They were the new thing then.

Anyway, it didn't take long for me to find the source of all that racket!

I'll finish up the story tomorrow.

Joe
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Old 02-10-2016, 10:45 PM   #128
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That ain't right Joe, to leave us hanging like that!!!!

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Old 02-11-2016, 11:21 AM   #129
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Where was I? Oh yeah, I was a few hundred feet below the divide of the Bitterroot mountains, on the Montana side.

I had only killed my first-ever big game animal a few weeks before, a whitetail buck. I grew up just hunting small game and birds.

So...I'm sneaking up on a demolition crew. It was just below timberline, with sparse trees and granite boulders. Perfect stalking country, and the wind in my face. I moved quickly.

It was a bear, tearing apart a rotted deadfall, and eating the bugs. He was into his business, and I probably could have walked up and tapped him on the shoulder!

Didn't to do that, though. :-) As I looked around, I wasn't sure I wanted to shoot. It looked to me like I was smack in the middle of the most obvious place for him to run.

I don't recall if he was the first bear I had ever seen, but he was definitely the first I'd seen with a weapon in my hand, a bear tag in my pocket, and bad intentions.

I watched him for a while, and decided that it would be prudent to stalk around him to the south, into a little clump of boulders. I didn't figure he'd run that way.

Just as I got to my spot, something alerted him. Scent? Sound? I don't know.

He wasn't real spooked but he started walking away, right toward where I had been. I knew if he got there, he'd smell me for sure.

I drew and shot. 20-25 yards, quartering away. Hit him a little too far back, I thought.

He took off like a rocket, right over the spot where I first saw him. I was glad I had moved!

I went to the spot of the shot, and found my bloody arrow immediately. Pass-through!

Then I went back to camp, about 15 minutes away, and got my dog.

We went back to the scene, and started on the trail. Very little blood. Worried. After about a quarter-mile (maybe less), there he lay. He had bled out pretty much internally. I learned later that a fat fall bear, with a thick winter pelt, often doesn't lose much blood on the ground.

The hit was better than I thought. Got the liver going in, and a lung going out.

This Texas boy had just killed him a bear, in the Montana wilderness!
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Old 02-11-2016, 12:02 PM   #130
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Great story Joe.
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Old 02-11-2016, 12:03 PM   #131
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Great story Joe!
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Old 02-11-2016, 12:10 PM   #132
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Blue Wildebeest

August of 2003 found me in the Limpopo Region of South Africa. I had dreamed of hunting the dark continent since I was a kid, but had always pictured it being with a double rifle after dangerous game. When I did finally see my way clear I booked 14 days and decided to take my trusty longbow and hunt plains game as it was more in my price range. I was using my Jeff Massie Longhorn, 64”, 55lbs at my 28” draw. It had a cocobolo riser with bamboo lams under clear glass. For arrows I would use Arrow Dynamics tipped with a 160 grain, 1 ˝’ wide broadhead for a total arrow weight of 610 grains.

We had been seeing a herd of Wildebeest near a waterhole and I had sat in a treestand there a couple of times, but could not get a shot. There was a nice bull in that herd that I really wanted. Finally, a few days before the end of my hunt, my PH Kruger, decided to set up a pop-up blind on the waterhole. There was a pushed up pile of brush at just the right distance from the waterhole so we set the pop-up in the middle of the brush pile and cleared a shooting lane. To add to the camo, we draped a camo net over the blind. When finished you could not tell there was a pop-up in the brush pile. We also had shoot through netting on the window.

On the morning of the next to last day of my hunt Kruger dropped me off at the blind and I got settled in. I would be sitting by myself. During the course of the day there was not much activity at this waterhole and I was getting a bit despondent. I considered calling Kruger and having him move me to a different location, but decided to tough it out. About midday a big male baboon came into water. When he didn’t spot me I knew that my hide was well camoflauged. I decided to try and take this baboon. I came to anchor and dropped the string, the arrow passed under his arm and shaved a bit of hair off his chest, man, these baboons are fast.

About 4:45 a small herd of wildebeest came in. They watered and milled around the waterhole, but didn’t offer a decent shot. As they started to leave the waterhole, they paraded past my shooting lane in single file at about 8 yards. I knew they weren’t going to stop, but they were moving slowly so I decided if the bull I wanted followed the same path I would attempt a shot. The bull strolled past my shooting lane. I touched anchor and dropped the string. The herd bolted out of there. The shot looked good but I wasn’t sure. I called Kruger and let him know I had shot the bull. Kruger and the African tracker arrived at the waterhole about ˝ hour after I called him. We found good blood and tracked for about 100 yards where the bull crossed the road into another thick block of bush. There we lost the blood. We searched until after dark, but could not recover the blood trail. We did find the back half of the arrow and it looked like I had good penetration. We decided to back out and resume the search in the morning.

Early the next morning we returned to where we had found last blood and resumed the search. It was a cloudy, windy dreary day. We could not find any more blood but the tracker was able to follow the tracks. We finally lost the track where they mixed with the tracks of a herd of wildebeest. We decided we would do a grid search in the last block of bush where we had found. Kruger, the tracker and I lined up about 40 yards apart and started through the bush. As I was walking I spotted a pair of bat eared foxes and decided I would try to get a closer look. Suddenly I realized I had lost sight of Kruger and the tracker. I yelled to make contact but got no response. I realized I had left my compass in my backpack. I knew the block of bush was only a couple of miles square so I knew I could walk out to the road if I could hold a straight line. Because of the clouds I could not use the sun to maintain direction. After thinking about it a few minutes I realized the wind had been pretty much constant on my left side as I came in. I put the wind on my right side and started walking out. Sometime later I came out on the road about 200 yards from the truck. I waited at the truck until Kruger and the tracker returned. They had not had any luck. Since it was now almost noon we decided to call a stop to the search.

I spent the rest of the day at another waterhole, but did not shoot anything. The next morning was spent packing up. Kruger took me to the airport and I flew back to the states, still feeling bummed about the Wildebeest even though I had taken some nice animals.

The day after I arrived back in the states I got an email from Kruger. They had found my Wildebeest. He had apparently died just before they found him as the hide had not slipped and was still in perfect condition for mounting. Apparently my shot had been a bit far back. The kill zone of African game is a bit farther forward than where I was used to shooting whitetails

The picture shows the location of the pop-up, you can see the shooting window on the left side.
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Old 02-11-2016, 01:54 PM   #133
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Great story Phillip, as usual.
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Old 02-11-2016, 02:19 PM   #134
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Great stories
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Old 02-27-2016, 07:33 AM   #135
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ttt
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Old 02-27-2016, 08:11 AM   #136
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Glad you got the beast in the end
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Old 06-24-2016, 03:56 PM   #137
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ttt
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Old 07-15-2016, 08:06 AM   #138
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*sigh* After reading through these (the gar story is still favorite so far) I really really want to go hunting. It's rather amusing though that a rifle story about a hunt just doesn't read as well as a bow hunt.

Richard
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Old 11-05-2016, 05:20 PM   #139
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I was just rereading some of these stories.
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Old 07-11-2017, 10:13 PM   #140
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Bump
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Old 09-13-2017, 06:17 AM   #141
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This hasn't been at the top for while.
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Old 09-14-2017, 01:22 PM   #142
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Quebec Caribou
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It had slipped up on me slowly, just a little at a time to the point I didn’t see it coming until it had me in a strangle hold. Maybe it was the constant rain. Maybe it was the long trip. Maybe the hassles with security at the airports and customs that had weakened my resolve but for the first time I sat in my ground blind and was sure I was not going to be successful. Sure I have been on several hunts that I didn’t harvest an animal, you except that as part of the plan when you decide to leave the guns at home but normally I have the enthusiasm of a sixteen year old on prom night and never loose faith until they tell me the hunt is over and I have to leave.

We had missed the main heard by about a week and every thing I had ever read about hunting Caribou told be we were in for a long week. After thirty hours in various ground blinds without a sighting I was inclined to agree.
The thrill of the float plane trip was a distant memory and I was close to a full blown pity party.
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It had been raining great torrents of rain all morning and when it finally let up the clouds were hanging in the timber creating a medieval atmosphere that only added to my despair as I could only seen forty or fifty yards into the open meadow. The trees on the far side hung in a mist and were little more than dark shadows.
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When I first caught movement through the fog, I was not sure whether it was real or my tired eyes playing tricks on me. The day before after setting twelve hours I started seeing Caribou in every bush. My heart jumped into my throat when a quick look through my binoculars picked up horns moving my way through the high grass and fog.

Sliding down into the hole that was serving as the base for my newly constructed ground blind, I quickly slipped my bow for its perch and knocked an arrow. There was four bulls slowly feeding my way and they were on a trail that would take them within fifteen yards of the blind.
The wind was cutting across the trail but I felt sure that before they crossed my scent trail I would already have made the shot.


The lead bull was a dandy with good mass a single shovel and decent tops but the one I wanted was second in line his antlers sweeping higher and a little wider. I went from way too excited to deadly calm by the time the bulls quit feeding and lined out for the river.



All my focus was on the second bull and I did not even cut my eyes over as the first on passed not ten steps away from me. My targeted bull was three steps away from clearing the brush when the hair stood up on the back of my neck and from the corner of my eye I picked up the first bull hitting my scent trail. He stopped and turned his head to stare straight at me at point blank range.

I do not remember making a concuss decision to take the first bull. I was at this point on full auto pilot. I suppose I had choices when you think about it. I could wait and hope the bull turned back to the trail as I was well hidden in the hole. I could have maybe waited in hopes the second bull would have moved up behind the first offering me a shot But alas I was not in charge. The predator in my soul was in full control and in an instant there was nothing in the world but a little tuff of dark hair tight behind the bulls shoulder. I paused for a second at full draw feeling the muscles bunch in my back and watched as the arrow sliced threw the short distance between us. There was a solid thud as the Zephyer broad head slammed into the Caribou burying into his side up to the bright yellow feathers.

Only a hunter can under stand the shot of adrenalin that hit me, when after making three hops into the river my bull crashed head first into the water. I set on the bank of the river trembling my whole nervous system was shot as I looked at one of the most beautiful animals I could ever hope to harvest. As I sat there trying to compose myself the sun broke through the clouds and I sat for a long time admiring this unique country the water so clear and blue you could drink straight from the stream. We all dream of distant lands and trophy animals for me for that one moment in time it all came true.

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Old 09-14-2017, 01:25 PM   #143
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Old 09-14-2017, 01:46 PM   #144
Phillip Fields
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Great story Buff.
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Old 09-14-2017, 02:18 PM   #145
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Earned that one for sure. We've all been there on hunts. Way to hang in a stay ready.

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Old 09-14-2017, 03:35 PM   #146
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Great story, felt like I was there. Keep em coming!
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