Dumb and Dangerous Stuff While Hunting

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I have never told this story before, but when I was a young man (28yrs old) I was hunting by myself and had a 2" 357 mag S&W carry. I had hunted about two hours and got a little bored, so I took out my 357 mag and was messing with it (yes it was loaded) and I thought I saw something on the edge of one of the cylinders, so I turne the revolver around toward my face to see what it was and as I was turning the revolver ever so close and in the direction of my face; I let my finger slip into the trigger area, forgetting that I had left the revolver cocked from playing with it and it went off right by my face, and the blast blew my cap off.

I reached for my face to feel if any of it had been hit, I was able to see fine so I knew my eyes were ok. When realizing how fortunate I was to be okay (except for a painful ringing in my left ear) I dropped to my knees and immediately thanked God for sparing me in my moment of stupidity. Never done anything that stupid since and sure hope I don't.

 

[Guy Miner]

Yikes! :shock:

Nothing that dramatic, but I've often been guilty of pushing myself too far physically, and wondering if I had the stamina to actually make it back to camp, or to the truck at the trailhead. I seem to go through that little evolution every few years... Start hiking, end up back in the middle of nowhere in some canyon, or high on some huge ridge, exhausted, nearly out of water, out of food... Sometimes with a big ol' dead mulie to cut up and haul out... :grin: They're always bigger & heavier when carrying them. Weird.

I'll likely be that dumb again someday. Hope so.

Had a bull elk about walk me into the ground one day, trying to close enough for a shot. Never happened, but man, I had a long, dark, tiring walk back to the truck at the trailhead. Thankfully I didn't shoot him way back in there! Would have had to camp there, cooking and eating him until the load was light enough and I was rested enough to haul him out!

Guy

 

[bullet]

Yikes! :shock:

Nothing that dramatic, but I've often been guilty of pushing myself too far physically, and wondering if I had the stamina to actually make it back to camp, or to the truck at the trailhead. I seem to go through that little evolution every few years... Start hiking, end up back in the middle of nowhere in some canyon, or high on some huge ridge, exhausted, nearly out of water, out of food... Sometimes with a big ol' dead mulie to cut up and haul out... :grin: They're always bigger & heavier when carrying them. Weird.

I'll likely be that dumb again someday. Hope so.

Had a bull elk about walk me into the ground one day, trying to close enough for a shot. Never happened, but man, I had a long, dark, tiring walk back to the truck at the trailhead. Thankfully I didn't shoot him way back in there! Would have had to camp there, cooking and eating him until the load was light enough and I was rested enough to haul him out!

Guy

Awesome Guy, I have found myself in some situations just like you described when trying to get close enough to take a shot on bear in Arizona. One time fond myself without water and no food. By the end of that day I thought I would end my life coming up the side of a mountain to get to my vehicle. You really brought back some memories. Nancy said, "what if you die out there?" I told her, "now Nancy, you know that I will have died happy, but I promise I will try and be wise about what I do." That explanation didn't go over well at all. :mrgreen:

 

[DrMike]

Twice, I've come very near to succumbing to hypothermia. Once, hunting moose in the early morning. The frost was thick, and as I walked the moisture dampened my clothing. By about ten o'clock, I was shivering and still had quite a ways to walk to make it back to camp. I was in serious trouble when I made it back, but had enough good sense to make a fire, strip out of my wet clothing and towel down thoroughly. After the fact, I realised just how advanced the hypothermia was; it was scary. On another occasions, in -25C weather, I stayed on the trail of a moose for almost ten kilometers. When I caught up to the animal, I realised how late it was. If I shot it, I would be spending the night out in the woods. Despite having emergency gear with me, I opted to let the beast live and head for camp. "Bang!" I yelled. As the animal high-=tailed it away, I began the long trudge to camp. I was concerned about losing my way as darkness fell, but I managed to walk directly to my camp. I refused to depend on my "sense of direction," trusting my life to my compass. It was pretty late when I made it back; the temperature was dropping and snow was beginning to fall heavily. Again, I realised how close I had been to becoming disoriented. Still, it felt good to crawl into my tent that night, finding my sleeping bag awaiting my tired body.

I haven't shot myself, yet. I did have a police officer almost kill me. He was carrying a rifle he borrowed from me to hunt bear. As we moved into position on a bear we saw foraging about eighty yards in front of us. I was in the lead and he was following. We were moving from cover to cover crouching as we moved forward. Unbeknownst to me, he had his finger on the trigger. Yes, he discharged the round and it impacted inches from my right knee. He was horrified, and the more so as he was firearms instructor for his detachment. I've been hesitant to hunt with him since.

 

[bullet]

Believe it or not, but that is why I take chances hunting alone instead of with someone following me on a hunt and I don't think I will be changing my mind about that, just the way I feel. Anyway, I go out there to be by myself since I see and deal with so many people throughout a given year.

 

[PJGunner]

I really hsould take the 5th Amendment but I'll admit I really did a dumb thing. I'd just got home, it was late, I was tired, hungry and really bent out of shape as I'd been out before sunrise and it was well past dark when I go home. Up and down and in and out of several steep canyons and never even saw hide nor hair of a deer. This was during the mid 70's when the Mule Deer population took a serious nose dive in some parts of the west and nevada was particularly hard hit. Any I got home, put my .270 on the bench in the garage and made a quick sandwich and hit the hay. I got up the next morning with the intention of cleaning my rifle. I had a habit of dry firing though a window while holding on the gas cap of a no longer running VW Microbud parked bout 250 yards or so across a road. I cycled the bolt, took aim and squeezed off what came out with a very loud bang, and the glass in the window no longer was in the window. Thanfully no one got hurt. I was so damn knocked out that I neglected to unload that rifle even before I got into the truck to come home. No excuse. I simply screwed up big time.
There is a funny side to the story. I was with my hunting buddy and he had to go see someone about a gun they were thinking of selling so I went along for the ride. We ended up on the property with the VW bus. I casually asked the guy if it was running. he said no and it would cost too much to get it fixed so it was gonna sit and rust away forever. He said, "Funny thing. There's a bullet hole in the gas cap, almost perfectly dead center. I don't even know when it happened." I actually gave some thought to buying that old bus but couldn't figure out how to have it mounted. No, I didn't tell him I was the one who poached his bus. For the record, the bus as shot with a 150 gr. Nosler Partition.
All joking aside, I've always been quite careful with firearms. Still, no matter how careful one can be, there can come a time when there is a momentary lapse in memory such as what happened with me and it can happen to anyone at any time.
I can tell another tale that involves that particular .270. I was on a hunt with a co-worker and a friend of his. My wife and kids had all filled out their tags for the year and I was the only one who had not filled out. The area I chose to help them find game was either sex and my co-worker and I wee more than content to just take a meat doe. His friend on the other hand said he would never shoot a doe under any circumstances. We were in the truck headed up the road to where we ere to hunt when I saw a small herd of does and one little forked horn walking down to the road. I told my coworker to stop as there was the herd coming right o us. They bailed out and took their shots while I was still getting out of the truck My co-workerfriend dropped his deer and I dropped mine but his buddy gut shot that forky. I had a shot at the gut shot deer and was swinging on it and about to shoot when my scope saw nothing but yellow hair. That dumb blonde friend of my co-worker had stepped right in front of the muzzle of my rifle and me with only a few ounces left befoe that gun went off. All I can say I God was looking after me and that idiot because somehow I was able to stop that squeeze and not shoot. I do believe I gave the finest ass chewing I've ever given and probably in several languages I didn't even know existed. I sure would have been in a pickle if I hadn't stopped that squeeze. Not only would a human being been killed but a Nevada Highway Patrolman to boot. I told Larry, my co-worker that he was welcome to hunt with me anytime but leave your goofball friend at home. He's too damn dumb to be in the field.
I have to wonder if that .270 is cursed. It hasn't been out to be shot or hunted with since that incident in 1977. All it gets these days is a yearly wipe down whether it needs it or not.
These days I tell about those two incidents when I do a Hunter Ed class.
Paul B.

 

[russ808]

A few years ago a couple of my buddies took a bunch of new hunters for a Axis deer hunt.
When it was time to go home, as they were packing, one of the new guys could not find one round. Well they looked for it and nada. After getting back home, about a week later the new hunter called my friend and tells him " I found the missing round. It was in my gun." The gun was loaded and put on the airplane as such. How it got past TSA? What can I say. He will never live that down and to this day he still can not see why everybody made such a big deal about it. He is never hunting with me is all I can say.
Russ

 

[DrMike]

A thorough check by TSA, no doubt. Man, that is almost as scary as him leaving the round in the rifle.

 

[JD338]

2 yrs ago, I was watching a very big 8 pt buck. Once the bow season opened, I was after that buck only. One evening I drove to a remote spot to get the slip on him. As I clinbed into my tree stand in an oak, I realized I never replaced the broken branch I used as a step with a screw in step. I made the big step and as I powered myself onto the next step, my ankle went out sideways. Shooting pain instantly in my right ankle 18' above the ground and NOT tied into a life line.
I pulled myself into the stand to assess the situation and wondered how I was going to get down! The big buck didn't show but his 2 little pals did and I let them walk.
I did get down, limp 3/8 mile to my truck and went home. My wife recommended I go to the Dr which I did the following day. He said it was a sprained ankle.
Well, 4 months later, I went in for surgery to repair ths Paraneal tendons. Ended up with blood clots, months of rehab and a lot of determination to get it back to where it was.

And my buddy's 14 yr old son shot that big buck right behind my house. He was an 8 pt, 23" wide and scored 140".

JD338

 

[bullet]

Man, that makes my foot hurt just looking at it!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! :shock:

 

[YoteSmoker]

Not me but I remember my dad telling me he tried to kill a shot but still alive coon with his 16 ga mossberg shotgun by hiting it with the stock of the shotgun, when he was a teenager, just like Daniel Boone. The gun discharged but luckily he didn't shoot himself...scared him enough to warn me never to try such a thing 30 something years ago when I was a kid.

 

[muleman]

I'll catagorize this one as dumb....... One day before work the dogs were going beserk about something in the back yard so I grabbed a shotgun and stepped out side. We live out in the country and have had all kind of criitters show up over the last decade or so. The list includes bobcats, raccoons, emu, coyotes, rabbits, deer, stray cows, quail, pheasants, foxes, peacocks, donkeys well you get the idea. You never know what will be on the back porch come sunrise. This particular morning I found a skunk in the back yard and since at the time we were keeping chickens we didn't like skunks so I let the skunk have it with a load of #4s at about 15 yds. Now it's time to let you use your imagination..... it was that bad :shock: . The clothes I was wearing had to be burned and I couldn't go into work let alone back into the house. My wife tossed the soap and a towel out the window and kept all the doors locked until I had done washed the stink off of me. Next time I'll shoot it in the head from 50yds with a .22!

Scott

 

[bullet]

muleman, that is so funny, and I know what you mean. My grandson and were hunting and he shot a skunk about 15yds from us with his shot gun and neither of us were paying attention to the wind direction at that time :shock: Man you talk about two guys taking off when we saw that cloud of spray coming our way and even though we got clear of it, we still smelled sunk on us and my friend whom we were staying with made us change outside and wash with his hose before he would let us come in for the evening. Yes, Jordan and I can imagine and glad we did not get it like you.

Here is the sunk he killed.

 

[DrMike]

Note to self: do not shoot skunks with shotgun! :shock: :mrgreen:

 

[bullet]

Note to self: do not shoot skunks with shotgun! :shock: :mrgreen:

:mrgreen: :mrgreen: :mrgreen: :mrgreen: :mrgreen: :mrgreen:

 

[muleman]

Note to self: do not shoot skunks with shotgun! :shock: :mrgreen:

And where were you when I needed that sage advice! :lol:
I keep rifles handy for those chores now. I got a coyote with a 44-40 Win 73 this winter. It was the first rifle to hand when my lab brought his new friend home. Do you have any idea what the hold at 100yds had to be shooting one of my old cowboy action loads! The coyote was DRT.

Scott