What’s your spookiest hunting experience?

The closest I've been to a bear was about 8 to 10 feet. Close enough that I could hear her breathing!

I was armed…..in fact, I was handgun hunting. I never felt fear…..only pure unmitigated disappointment. It may have been a lot different though, had it been a large grizzly instead of a young Black Bear!

I had a small conifer between us, and I could only see her through small openings between the limbs…..I couldn't get a shot off through that d@^d tree. She smelled me and took off.

I went into the timber after her, doing my best "ninja" impersonation, I was able to get within about 20 yards from her as she had her back to me while tearing into a rotted log!

Pretty easy shot from my S&W 629…..using my cast bullets.

C-130 Dude said:

Unless the 4 shot was perfectly placed (remember Murphys law), your probably just p**s it off.

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We had a coworker who got between a black bear and a cub while grouse hunting. She came at him hard, and he hit her between the eyes from about 3 feet with 7.5 shot. Blew a hole in her skull and dumped her right there. Not the ideal method but it worked that time!

Several years ago I had two experiences that seemed unrelated, but now I wonder. I had broken some ribs and a shoulder in a tractor rollover near our hilltop pasture. I laid up for a couple weeks, then one nice day my wife went up there to work with a horse. Tired of being cooped up, I decided to go up there and find a walking stick. I found a dead sapling in the woods near the pasture that looked good, so I hobbled toward the barn to get a hand saw. When I got to the dirt road, which was dry and dusty, there was a trail of fresh tracks, cougar! I was fascinated walking along side them for a hundred feet or so. I got the saw and headed back towards the woods. I was in for a surprise. Where I had walked along looking at cougar tracks on my left side, now there were a fresh row of tracks to the right of mine! Goosebumps time.
( I still have that walking stick as a reminder. It has a forked top for shooting. To bad I didn't have it along next time.)
At one point in the winter the horses were kept in that hilltop pasture, so we loaded the horse trailer with hay and parked it next to the gate. One evening we went to to feed them and saw a cougar track in the mud right next to the trailer. I told my wife that from now on, any time she had to feed after dark, I needed to be there. One evening that was the case. It was raining so I just took my stainless Ruger single 9 22 mag. While she was feeding, I was shining my maglight around when I saw the cougar sitting next to a big Fir tree 40 yards away. It now had my full attention! I brought the gun up, aimed, then realized that these conditions aren't very good, (dark, rain, frontal presentation, 22 mag. revolver) I better get a little closer. I took a couple steps forward and the cat turned ànd moved back a bit and sat back down. At that point I figured I should at least shoot to scare it away, but the cat was already tired of the game and just melted into the forest. That pretty much ended my relationship with a lion.

Mike6158 said:

I miss opening day of squirrel hunting in N. LA. A friend/coworker told me to hunt his family land on opening day one year. He told me that more than likely nobody would hunt it because it wasn't close to anything. To get there I had to open a locked gate, drive about 1 mile in, and park at a very old family cemetery. Like Civil War era old. That was an interesting place.

Not far from the wrought iron fence of the cemetery the land dropped off into a big hardwood and pine bottom. Some of the trees there were big enough that I couldn't reach more than 1/2 way around them. very old. They were there during the Civil War.

As I walked in I noticed that it was near impossible to be quiet when I walked through the dead ok and hickory leaves. It's easy to be quiet walking on pine needles, you just had to feel the sticks under the needles so they don't crack if you step on them. I found a big pine that was near some smaller pine trees, leaned up against it, and waited for the sound of pine cone seeds hitting the leaves. I'd been there maybe 30m when a deer came by. I heard it coming through the leaves before I saw it so I didn't feel too bad about sounding like a Walrus when I walked in. Not long after a voice very near me said, having a luck. I froze and looked around. Not 3' away there was an old man, wearing old tiger stripe camo, and holding a shotgun. I said no sir, just a deer. He said yup, I followed her in. That man did not make a sound coming or going. I watched him disappear into the woods. I stuck around for an hour or so then left with a few squirrels.

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Bumpin' this gem from Page 1…

In my younger days I coon hunted a lot. One of the guys that went with us on this particular night was pretty trigger happy. I didn't know him well. Anyway the dogs treed in a broken off sweet gum that obviously had a hollow in the top about 20 ft. up. I shinnied up the tree with my light and a 22 pistol in my pocket and sat on a big limb just before the hollow where I could shine my light down into the hole and see. When I shined my light down in the hole the coon was balled up in there about 2.5 ft down. Lightning had struck this tree and there was a crack beside where the coon was and all of a sudden the trigger happy guy starts hollering I see him, hand me the rifle. Well my heart about stopped as I was right above the coon and would very likely get shot if the guy got the rifle. Thankfully, my friends made sure he did not get his hands on the rifle as I was preparing for a rapid descent.
Crisis averted, my attention turned back to the coon. I cut a small forked branch off and used it to poke the coon and twist it. Well he didn't like that at all so he started up toward me. I obviously hadn't thought this out to well. Crisis 2: I'm 20 ft up a slick tree sitting on its only limb with a ticked off coon closing fast. What do I do now? I remembered my uncles words. A good run is better than a bad stand any day. True. But there was no time. I shined my light in his eyes when he made it to the top of the hole. This disoriented him enough that I was able to throw him out of the tree. He then fought the dogs into a deep pond and somehow managed to get away.
I have never climbed another tree after a coon again.

Turpentine21 said:

In my younger days I coon hunted a lot. One of the guys that went with us on this particular night was pretty trigger happy. I didn't know him well. Anyway the dogs treed in a broken off sweet gum that obviously had a hollow in the top about 20 ft. up. I shinnied up the tree with my light and a 22 pistol in my pocket and sat on a big limb just before the hollow where I could shine my light down into the hole and see. When I shined my light down in the hole the coon was balled up in there about 2.5 ft down. Lightning had struck this tree and there was a crack beside where the coon was and all of a sudden the trigger happy guy starts hollering I see him, hand me the rifle. Well my heart about stopped as I was right above the coon and would very likely get shot if the guy got the rifle. Thankfully, my friends made sure he did not get his hands on the rifle as I was preparing for a rapid descent.
Crisis averted, my attention turned back to the coon. I cut a small forked branch off and used it to poke the coon and twist it. Well he didn't like that at all so he started up toward me. I obviously hadn't thought this out to well. Crisis 2: I'm 20 ft up a slick tree sitting on its only limb with a ticked off coon closing fast. What do I do now? I remembered my uncles words. A good run is better than a bad stand any day. True. But there was no time. I shined my light in his eyes when he made it to the top of the hole. This disoriented him enough that I was able to throw him out of the tree. He then fought the dogs into a deep pond and somehow managed to get away.
I have never climbed another tree after a coon again.

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I'd say that coon earned his life!

Turkeytider said:

I'd say that coon earned his life!

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Yes he did. I walked away with a lot of respect for him. Pound for pound a coon can flat out fight and defend himself.