You know I get ****ed off at transmissions every now and then but I never shot one.
But I hate to have to admit I shot my couch once.
What’s your spookiest hunting experience?
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But I hate to have to admit I shot my couch once.
Kill it? If I did that I might as well shoot myself rather than have to listen to my wife for the next decade, plus she would tell everyone at church.You know I get ****ed off at transmissions every now and then but I never shot one.
But I hate to have to admit I shot my couch once.
Story about the drug runners definitely sucks but it's almost fairly common these days but there's something about a very fat naked dude watching me through a scope that definitely creeped me out!
Definitely a gamble, but you might've tried to just do a quick slash and dump with the guts and maybe the coyotes would've stayed on those,and I never bow hunt without my Glock!
That is an unwritten rule pretty much everywhere I hunt!
I know how big that could be. I've had great Danes for the last 38 years.
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Yeah I killed one cushion but got it replaced. Don't have a wife and this is the first time I admitted it lol.
Very strange coincidence, some years back my father had come up to visit me in North Central Montana, he wanted to do some walleye fishing so I set him up with my fishing buddy (as i could not go that day) and they went out for afternoon/evening fish. The day had been similar as far as the weather goes, warm, overcast, but a few light showers and the occasional lightning strike in the distance.
I know my buddies fishing gear and he uses mostly a carbon base line. They had been there a couple of hours jigging like you guys were in about the depth of water, as I know the shallow ridge they were fishing. All of the sudden they both were seeing/hearing static arcs on the eyelets of there rods and my friend got a nice sharp snap to his index finger (ya know the one you keep on the line so you can feel the really light bites better) after that they were realed up, engine fired, and canned up on full plain getting the heck out of there.
I only wish I could have been part of that fishing story, glad you said something, I've never heard of anyone talk about this before.
I feel like I'm telling to many stories, but here goes another one. I'd been married about three years and my wife went on quite a few of our little adventures. This one took place in the Smoky Mtns. Another trip to ice water springs trail shelter, where we spent the night. Then on to Mt. Laconte trail shelter. Its about quarter mile from the lodge, we got to the shelter fairly early and claimed three top bunks against the fireplace wall. Went to the lodge and ate a lunch there. The lodge is five plus miles by trail from any direction. And its on the AT. There was a picture of a bear like a wanted poster there that said to beware of him. He had a scar from the top of his head through his left eye and down to his muzzle. Mean bear! When we returned to the shelter there was three adults and a bunch of teenagers. They took up the rest of the shelter. Also they were a religious group, and stupid. We told one of the adults about the bear and his response was God will protect us! Ok, we'll see. The shelter is three sides rock walls and chain link fence and door, with a u shaped drop to lock the door. About1 in the afternoon they got in a circle in front of the shelter and started a prayer, Bible reading. Scar face shows up. I yell for them to get in the shelter but no-one moves. The bear comes up and sniffs one girls hair. I'll give her credit, she didn't move. Bear moves to a young man and starts sniffing him. He's not so cool and swats at the bear. The kid was wearing a white nylon jacket and when the bear hit him it sounded like a 22lr going off. Me and my friend were out of the shelter a throwing rocks at the bear. He backs off but is huffing and popping his teeth. My wife yells at me and I look around, I'm the only person outside the shelter. Ok, ok time to retreat. Just before dark one of the young girls takes a collapsible wash basin and moves out the shelter to do her dishes. I'm standing in the shelter door watching, the bear rounds the other end of the shelter and is making a lunge at her. I reach down and grab her by the back of her jacket and toss her into the shelter. As she's flying through the air she calls me a SOB. I close the door and drop the latch as the bear hits the door. I was into martial arts then and just out of response I kicked his claws in the chain links of the door. He's po-ed now. Bridget my wife says don't do that again. Ok, we're stuck in a twenty foot long shelter with a bunch of terrified kids. One of the leaders had the gall to say, see God protected us. Never thought I'd be a guardian angel. Night went by without any trouble except for skunks. Thankfully none of the kids woke up when the skunks invaded. The next morning we were packing up to leave and one of them asked, what do we do about the bear. I couldn't help myself, I said pray. Then we left. I often wonder how long it took them to work up the courage to leave.
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robsev
Active Member
This happened about 50 years ago, but I still remember every detail like it was yesterday. A friend and I went out to a small lake in the middle of nowhere t do a little duck hunting. When we got there we walked down to the rushes at the edge of the lake. It was still totally dark out and the skies were clear so we just laid back and watched the stars. All of a sudden there were two oval bright lights heading towards each other. When they met they looked like they were almost touching each other and stayed like that for several minutes. All of a sudden in the blink of an eye one went straight up and the other went straight to the left and they were gone. Needless to say our hunt was done.
Hard rock
Well-Known Member
Maybe It was some of your old high school buddies , looking down saying let's mess with Ol Red
BigNate
Well-Known Member
If you're out enough sooner or later something will happen that's just strange. I've enjoyed reading this thread so thought I'd share the strangest that's happened to me.
The first part of this happened when I was a senior in high school. I'd just started bow hunting and was trying to make an honest effort to scout ahead of elk season. I'd found an area near the SW corner of the Crater Lake Park that seemed to always hold elk. I'd been in a few times and decided at the last minute to make one more run in there. I called my buddy I usually ran with, but he had conflicting plans and didn't want to go. Told him where I was going to park, and was planning on it only being a day trip.
The next morning I was up before the loggers, made the drive, and was in the trees before I started hearing the log trucks echo through the hills. Walking to an outcropping overlooking a smallish clearing I sat down to watch. I didn't own binoculars, but carried my mini14 always in hopes of ventilating coyotes. It had a cheap 4x scope.
As I sat there I started seeing movement in the far edge. Sure enough some elk were feeding toward me. I watched them for quite a while, long enough my heart rate had returned to normal. They were feeding toward a small spring/wallow and calm for the most part, but every so often one would jerk its head up and look toward a big downed Doug fir.
I started watching where they were looking expecting to see a cat. Minutes ticked by and then I realized I could see this mountain of a man peaking over the root ball. No hat, looking like a scraggly longish brown hair. I was surprised anyone else had walked in that far out of season for one, and that I hadn't heard any other vehicles that morning walking in. While watching him and him watching the elk I just held still, my silhouette covered by the sun rising above me and the rocks at my back. He stepped out, moving toward the trunk in the direction the elk had disappeared. He looked to be wearing a big coat even though it wasn't cold, like a Filson tin cloth or something. He stepped over the tree and quickly made his way into the trees. I felt confused, why was he wearing so much of a coat? Why didn't he have any stuff with him?
I eventually walked to the wallow but it didn't look like it had been disturbed. Circling back I went through the opening and was looking at the down tree. It was bigger than I thought. When I walked up to it the trunk was tall enough I would have had to use both hands to hop up far enough to swing my legs over. The tracks were to dry to leave good prints, but what grass there was smashed big enough my boot fit inside it like a little kid walking in dad's footprint.
When I got back and told my buddy about it he just laughed at me.
A few years later, I was just out of the service and restless. Decided I'd hike into a small lake to fish for a couple days.
These mountain lakes have an actual yuppie trail to them now, but back then there was still enough people that knew about them that it wasn't all that uncommon to see someone else, though most of the time you're alone.
I parked at a turn out on a logging road below one of the lakes. It was a much steeper route up, but shorter by far than the easy route. On the way up I stayed on game trails for the most part. It has rained a little the night before, everything was wet, but smelled great. About 400 yards before topping out at the lake there was something that caught my attention ahead of me but off the trail in the thick young firs. Watching it as I walked, I brought the mini14 down to more of a ready position and got ready to toss my fishing pole. All of a sudden a young woman gets up up from under the tree and nearly runs at me, sobbing, barefoot, dressed in underwear and a tank top. She's soaked. I was shocked at what I saw.
When she got to me she wrapped her arms around me crying and talking at the same time.
I finally understood she hadn't seen her friend since they ran out of their tent during the night. When trying to find out why they ran all she kept saying was that a big man was pushing the tent down. I put my wool shirt on her, and gave her my dry socks. She didn't want to let go of me as we walked up to their camp. Sure enough the tent was down at one end, there were a few things laying around, and she was shaking scared and crying. Kept saying "he got her" over and over. She finally told me her friends name and eventually started helping call her name. About 20 minutes later here comes her friend, dressed about the same, just as freaked out.
I helped them pack up and they wanted me to take them back the way I came. We walked out, no unusual happenings. I drove to where they parked and asked them if they needed me to stay with them. I followed them out to the highway and to a little roadside place that had a phone. The sheriff was called, I waited, wasted the rest of the morning answering questions.
I went home, never went back to fish that lake. The lake isn't terribly far from the first incident, and after listening to the girls story and the outright terror in their voices, the description of what they thought they saw wasn't to different from the mountain man I'd seen years earlier.
Some things can't be explained easily.
The first part of this happened when I was a senior in high school. I'd just started bow hunting and was trying to make an honest effort to scout ahead of elk season. I'd found an area near the SW corner of the Crater Lake Park that seemed to always hold elk. I'd been in a few times and decided at the last minute to make one more run in there. I called my buddy I usually ran with, but he had conflicting plans and didn't want to go. Told him where I was going to park, and was planning on it only being a day trip.
The next morning I was up before the loggers, made the drive, and was in the trees before I started hearing the log trucks echo through the hills. Walking to an outcropping overlooking a smallish clearing I sat down to watch. I didn't own binoculars, but carried my mini14 always in hopes of ventilating coyotes. It had a cheap 4x scope.
As I sat there I started seeing movement in the far edge. Sure enough some elk were feeding toward me. I watched them for quite a while, long enough my heart rate had returned to normal. They were feeding toward a small spring/wallow and calm for the most part, but every so often one would jerk its head up and look toward a big downed Doug fir.
I started watching where they were looking expecting to see a cat. Minutes ticked by and then I realized I could see this mountain of a man peaking over the root ball. No hat, looking like a scraggly longish brown hair. I was surprised anyone else had walked in that far out of season for one, and that I hadn't heard any other vehicles that morning walking in. While watching him and him watching the elk I just held still, my silhouette covered by the sun rising above me and the rocks at my back. He stepped out, moving toward the trunk in the direction the elk had disappeared. He looked to be wearing a big coat even though it wasn't cold, like a Filson tin cloth or something. He stepped over the tree and quickly made his way into the trees. I felt confused, why was he wearing so much of a coat? Why didn't he have any stuff with him?
I eventually walked to the wallow but it didn't look like it had been disturbed. Circling back I went through the opening and was looking at the down tree. It was bigger than I thought. When I walked up to it the trunk was tall enough I would have had to use both hands to hop up far enough to swing my legs over. The tracks were to dry to leave good prints, but what grass there was smashed big enough my boot fit inside it like a little kid walking in dad's footprint.
When I got back and told my buddy about it he just laughed at me.
A few years later, I was just out of the service and restless. Decided I'd hike into a small lake to fish for a couple days.
These mountain lakes have an actual yuppie trail to them now, but back then there was still enough people that knew about them that it wasn't all that uncommon to see someone else, though most of the time you're alone.
I parked at a turn out on a logging road below one of the lakes. It was a much steeper route up, but shorter by far than the easy route. On the way up I stayed on game trails for the most part. It has rained a little the night before, everything was wet, but smelled great. About 400 yards before topping out at the lake there was something that caught my attention ahead of me but off the trail in the thick young firs. Watching it as I walked, I brought the mini14 down to more of a ready position and got ready to toss my fishing pole. All of a sudden a young woman gets up up from under the tree and nearly runs at me, sobbing, barefoot, dressed in underwear and a tank top. She's soaked. I was shocked at what I saw.
When she got to me she wrapped her arms around me crying and talking at the same time.
I finally understood she hadn't seen her friend since they ran out of their tent during the night. When trying to find out why they ran all she kept saying was that a big man was pushing the tent down. I put my wool shirt on her, and gave her my dry socks. She didn't want to let go of me as we walked up to their camp. Sure enough the tent was down at one end, there were a few things laying around, and she was shaking scared and crying. Kept saying "he got her" over and over. She finally told me her friends name and eventually started helping call her name. About 20 minutes later here comes her friend, dressed about the same, just as freaked out.
I helped them pack up and they wanted me to take them back the way I came. We walked out, no unusual happenings. I drove to where they parked and asked them if they needed me to stay with them. I followed them out to the highway and to a little roadside place that had a phone. The sheriff was called, I waited, wasted the rest of the morning answering questions.
I went home, never went back to fish that lake. The lake isn't terribly far from the first incident, and after listening to the girls story and the outright terror in their voices, the description of what they thought they saw wasn't to different from the mountain man I'd seen years earlier.
Some things can't be explained easily.
marksman1941
Well-Known Member
- Joined
- May 20, 2013
- Messages
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I'm sending you a pm about this one. The SW corner of crater lake park is where I chase elk every year…
