I'm going with Charolais.
What’s your spookiest hunting experience?
- Thread starter marksman1941
- Start date
Help Support Long Range Hunting Forum
I grew up in South MS, near LA. Growing up, we'd heard stories of the occasional panther being seen and heard around our area, though I'd never had one of those experiences. My uncle had though, and he liked to tell the story every so often. According to the wildlife officers, we didn't have any big cats. One place I remember was a large National Forest we used to hunt, and if you hunted out there for any amount of time, you probably heard more cat stories from there than anywhere else. Every time we hunted out there, a potential cat sighting was always in the back of my mind.
Our senior year of high school, they had a special doe hunt, and we had drawn 4 tags. We only had 3 of us, so we invited another guy who didn't hunt much. That morning, we all went to our spots. I took the new guy about a 1/2 mile down a logging road I always used, and put him on a stand not far off the road. I went on down a bit further to my usual area. Since it was permit only, it was pretty quiet that morning. About 3 hours in, I got my doe and drug/carried her back out. I stopped to check on my friend and he said he was good and was gonna just stay there. I checked my doe, ate lunch, and went back out around 2-3p to check on the guy. When I got to his spot, he wasn't there. I went on down the logging road for a bit, and found a muddy area where I saw boot prints that weren't mine, and I knew nobody else had been back in there, so I figured it must be him. I went way down that road to where it became a just wide path, and would run across boot prints every so often, until at one point I quit seeing them. I started wondering if he was trying to get out and went the wrong way - after all, it was dark when we went in - so I figured I better keep going. I'd call out for him every so often, and sit and wait for a bit with no answer. This went on until dusk. Then "boom" - coming from way out in the woods back down the road behind me. This was followed about 10 minutes later by "boom, boom" from farther out in the woods. It was a shotgun, so I figured it was him. Turned around and back down the road I went walking and sometimes trotting. When I got close to the area I thought it was coming from, I started calling, but nothing. Later on, after the sun was down, I heard some more shots - they were still way out there in the woods. There weren't any nearby access roads/trails out in that area except one that was a good bit north of where I thought the shots were coming from. I kept on calling for him - nothing. I fired a shot - nothing. I stayed there until well after dark and got no response at all. I knew that he was at least 1/3 mile in from the sound of his shots.
At this point I decided to head back and collect up the other two guys and figure out what to do. Two other hunters came by, and one had a 3 wheeler. While we were talking, we heard more shots. They offered to head north up the gravel road to the next access road and head down it and see if they couldn't intercept him there. One friend stayed at the truck, while me and the other went back out my logging road, figuring he's gotta cross one of the two. We only had one flashlight, and honestly the batteries were about dead. About halfway in, the light crapped out. It's probably about 8-9p at this point, then "boom, boom", again from deep in the woods, further down the logging road. My buddy commented that the guy has to be almost out of ammo, because he only had a couple of boxes of buckshot when he showed up that morn. I agreed that I could remember about 9 shots, maybe 10. We decided to space out on the logging road in case the dude came back that way. So I head on down.
Now I had my Remington 700 in 300WM with iron sights, so normally I would feel invincible, but that night, not so much. I'm about 3/4 mile in at this point, no flashlight, maybe a tad of moonlight, and I can just barely make out the road. At this point, I'm not sure if I'm thinking more about my friend, or about all those cat stories I'd heard over the years. In fact, I it was so eerie that night, that I actually didn't want to yell the guys name for fear of attracting something to my location. I remember just wanting to feel invisible. Then I heard something off in the distance down the road. I couldn't really tell what it was, but I froze and went dead silent. Problem was my ears were still ringing from 300WM shots that day. So, I got on one knee, with rifle pointed down road, safety off. Then I heard it again. It was on the logging road and definitely closer. This time I heard it clearly, and it sounded just like I thought a cat might sound like - part high pitch whistle, part hiss, and part growly. Oh holy crap, it just got very real. My eyes were so dilated that I realized I could actually see. That's when I saw the silhouette coming up the road, and it was big. In fact, it was so big, I had a hard time reconciling that it was a cat. I started to wonder if it wasn't actually a buck, which didn't make me feel much better. That's what was so screwed up was that I couldn't tell what the heck I was seeing, and that's what made it so bad. As it got closer, it made that sound a few more times and I started to feel really, really mad. I finally couldn't take it anymore and fired a shot off into the woods next to it. I was temporarily blinded by the muzzle flash, and could barely hear, but I could make out that **** thing on the ground making all kinds of noise. How in the hell I hit that thing was totally beyond me, and my mind was just gone at that point ... but, then I realized I heard the words "Jeff" and "don't shoot". Okay, so you can probably guess the rest.
Turns out, my friend had chased some does down the logging road and into the woods, took a shot at one, followed her, and took some follow up shots and eventually got her. Everything after the first 4 shots was him just trying to signal for help. Yes he was out of ammo, and had yelled so much, that he had lost his voice and could barely talk. I had not shot him, thank the lord. We all made it out safely, and to his credit, the guy had the small doe with him, field dressed. When we made it out, one of the wildlife officers had arrived and was talking to our other friend - he had just called in for some help. He checked the doe, questioned guy thoroughly and made sure he had made the kill before dark, and gave the guy a pretty stern lecture about being stupid in the woods, and us a lecture for not having proper flashlights on us when we hunt. To this day, I can honestly say I have never been that scared of anything since. But I often reflect back on that night and am so **** thankful I didn't shoot that guy. At some point we began to laugh about it and give the guy crap. And that idiot couldn't wait to get back out and hunt the next year. Gotta hand it to him though - he finished the job, brought the deer out, came to my locating shot from earlier, hit the ground when I fired, and didn't quit hunting as a result. Looking back, that was good times!
Our senior year of high school, they had a special doe hunt, and we had drawn 4 tags. We only had 3 of us, so we invited another guy who didn't hunt much. That morning, we all went to our spots. I took the new guy about a 1/2 mile down a logging road I always used, and put him on a stand not far off the road. I went on down a bit further to my usual area. Since it was permit only, it was pretty quiet that morning. About 3 hours in, I got my doe and drug/carried her back out. I stopped to check on my friend and he said he was good and was gonna just stay there. I checked my doe, ate lunch, and went back out around 2-3p to check on the guy. When I got to his spot, he wasn't there. I went on down the logging road for a bit, and found a muddy area where I saw boot prints that weren't mine, and I knew nobody else had been back in there, so I figured it must be him. I went way down that road to where it became a just wide path, and would run across boot prints every so often, until at one point I quit seeing them. I started wondering if he was trying to get out and went the wrong way - after all, it was dark when we went in - so I figured I better keep going. I'd call out for him every so often, and sit and wait for a bit with no answer. This went on until dusk. Then "boom" - coming from way out in the woods back down the road behind me. This was followed about 10 minutes later by "boom, boom" from farther out in the woods. It was a shotgun, so I figured it was him. Turned around and back down the road I went walking and sometimes trotting. When I got close to the area I thought it was coming from, I started calling, but nothing. Later on, after the sun was down, I heard some more shots - they were still way out there in the woods. There weren't any nearby access roads/trails out in that area except one that was a good bit north of where I thought the shots were coming from. I kept on calling for him - nothing. I fired a shot - nothing. I stayed there until well after dark and got no response at all. I knew that he was at least 1/3 mile in from the sound of his shots.
At this point I decided to head back and collect up the other two guys and figure out what to do. Two other hunters came by, and one had a 3 wheeler. While we were talking, we heard more shots. They offered to head north up the gravel road to the next access road and head down it and see if they couldn't intercept him there. One friend stayed at the truck, while me and the other went back out my logging road, figuring he's gotta cross one of the two. We only had one flashlight, and honestly the batteries were about dead. About halfway in, the light crapped out. It's probably about 8-9p at this point, then "boom, boom", again from deep in the woods, further down the logging road. My buddy commented that the guy has to be almost out of ammo, because he only had a couple of boxes of buckshot when he showed up that morn. I agreed that I could remember about 9 shots, maybe 10. We decided to space out on the logging road in case the dude came back that way. So I head on down.
Now I had my Remington 700 in 300WM with iron sights, so normally I would feel invincible, but that night, not so much. I'm about 3/4 mile in at this point, no flashlight, maybe a tad of moonlight, and I can just barely make out the road. At this point, I'm not sure if I'm thinking more about my friend, or about all those cat stories I'd heard over the years. In fact, I it was so eerie that night, that I actually didn't want to yell the guys name for fear of attracting something to my location. I remember just wanting to feel invisible. Then I heard something off in the distance down the road. I couldn't really tell what it was, but I froze and went dead silent. Problem was my ears were still ringing from 300WM shots that day. So, I got on one knee, with rifle pointed down road, safety off. Then I heard it again. It was on the logging road and definitely closer. This time I heard it clearly, and it sounded just like I thought a cat might sound like - part high pitch whistle, part hiss, and part growly. Oh holy crap, it just got very real. My eyes were so dilated that I realized I could actually see. That's when I saw the silhouette coming up the road, and it was big. In fact, it was so big, I had a hard time reconciling that it was a cat. I started to wonder if it wasn't actually a buck, which didn't make me feel much better. That's what was so screwed up was that I couldn't tell what the heck I was seeing, and that's what made it so bad. As it got closer, it made that sound a few more times and I started to feel really, really mad. I finally couldn't take it anymore and fired a shot off into the woods next to it. I was temporarily blinded by the muzzle flash, and could barely hear, but I could make out that **** thing on the ground making all kinds of noise. How in the hell I hit that thing was totally beyond me, and my mind was just gone at that point ... but, then I realized I heard the words "Jeff" and "don't shoot". Okay, so you can probably guess the rest.
Turns out, my friend had chased some does down the logging road and into the woods, took a shot at one, followed her, and took some follow up shots and eventually got her. Everything after the first 4 shots was him just trying to signal for help. Yes he was out of ammo, and had yelled so much, that he had lost his voice and could barely talk. I had not shot him, thank the lord. We all made it out safely, and to his credit, the guy had the small doe with him, field dressed. When we made it out, one of the wildlife officers had arrived and was talking to our other friend - he had just called in for some help. He checked the doe, questioned guy thoroughly and made sure he had made the kill before dark, and gave the guy a pretty stern lecture about being stupid in the woods, and us a lecture for not having proper flashlights on us when we hunt. To this day, I can honestly say I have never been that scared of anything since. But I often reflect back on that night and am so **** thankful I didn't shoot that guy. At some point we began to laugh about it and give the guy crap. And that idiot couldn't wait to get back out and hunt the next year. Gotta hand it to him though - he finished the job, brought the deer out, came to my locating shot from earlier, hit the ground when I fired, and didn't quit hunting as a result. Looking back, that was good times!
One of the stranger experiences I had in Europe was walking out to the stand one night. I was heading for a kanzel (box blind) looking over the vineyards below Schloss Vollrads near Schloss Johannesburg. This is an area along the Rhein River known for Riesling wine grapes and I was there to thin out the hog population.
As I walked in the dark (we hunt pigs 24/7) I was carrying my CZ550FS in 9,3x62, loaded with 250 grain Accubonds. I call it my young cannon. It is one of my favorite hunting tools. I had a rucksack on my back and a blanket rolled up in the straps (it was a frosty winter night with some snow on the ground).
As I walked the open ground I heard/felt a faint whooshing sound and a flutter of air overhead. I thought it odd, but I kept walking. It happened several more times, each time louder and closer. I finally saw against the moonlight an owl was circling me trying to figure out what I was. It's lowest approach was mere feet overhead, I could have brushed it with my hand.
Eventually he left me alone and I climbed up the stand and waited.
—-
Speaking of owls, in another stand north of Wiesbaden, I was sitting on a warm summer evening in a kanzel with the breeze coming straight to me looking over a field. I was waiting for a reh or roe deer at dusk when I heard a soft whoosh and a thump. An owl landed in my stand, gripping the timber frame on the inside of the box, upwind of me. He had no idea I was there. I sat for a while silently as he looked over the fields and scanned for vermin for himself.
I reached into my pocket for my camera to see if I could get a picture and suddenly he heard me and turned. Shocked look on both our faces, we froze for about what seemed like 30 seconds and he bounded off in a flash into the night.
I bet back at the nest he tells stories about that one time he flew into a stand to watch for mice and turned around and saw a human sitting there…
As I walked in the dark (we hunt pigs 24/7) I was carrying my CZ550FS in 9,3x62, loaded with 250 grain Accubonds. I call it my young cannon. It is one of my favorite hunting tools. I had a rucksack on my back and a blanket rolled up in the straps (it was a frosty winter night with some snow on the ground).
As I walked the open ground I heard/felt a faint whooshing sound and a flutter of air overhead. I thought it odd, but I kept walking. It happened several more times, each time louder and closer. I finally saw against the moonlight an owl was circling me trying to figure out what I was. It's lowest approach was mere feet overhead, I could have brushed it with my hand.
Eventually he left me alone and I climbed up the stand and waited.
—-
Speaking of owls, in another stand north of Wiesbaden, I was sitting on a warm summer evening in a kanzel with the breeze coming straight to me looking over a field. I was waiting for a reh or roe deer at dusk when I heard a soft whoosh and a thump. An owl landed in my stand, gripping the timber frame on the inside of the box, upwind of me. He had no idea I was there. I sat for a while silently as he looked over the fields and scanned for vermin for himself.
I reached into my pocket for my camera to see if I could get a picture and suddenly he heard me and turned. Shocked look on both our faces, we froze for about what seemed like 30 seconds and he bounded off in a flash into the night.
I bet back at the nest he tells stories about that one time he flew into a stand to watch for mice and turned around and saw a human sitting there…
M1A1ABRAMS
Well-Known Member
Wiesbaden had a nice nightclub back in the late 80s when I was stationed there. I wish I could remember the name.
There was the Schlachthof. I saw some great bands there (Calexico, the Hives, New Model Army, etc). There was also the obligatory Irish Pub downtown, as required by EU Law (j/k). I am sure there are/were others.
Grizzly60
Well-Known Member
Varmint Hunter
Well-Known Member
To make a long story short,
While waiting for my bear guide to pick me up; a large sow, with two cubs nearby, climbed into the ladderstand that I was sitting in. It was after shooting hours and pitch black out.
It's amazing that I didn't have a heart attack. 
While waiting for my bear guide to pick me up; a large sow, with two cubs nearby, climbed into the ladderstand that I was sitting in. It was after shooting hours and pitch black out.
It's amazing that I didn't have a heart attack. 
Something like this?:To make a long story short,
While waiting for my bear guide to pick me up; a large sow, with two cubs nearby, climbed into the ladderstand that I was sitting in. It was after shooting hours and pitch black out.
VaWhiteTailHunter76
Active Member
- Joined
- Oct 26, 2016
- Messages
- 44
I'd be chasing them suckers back down the tree before mama got the idea to come up and check on them!
Varmint Hunter
Well-Known Member
Not exactly. I never even saw the big sow coming because it was too dark. I felt her weight transfer onto the ladderstand and knew I was in trouble. She climbed so smoothly to the top that I wasn't sure where she was until her big melon was between my boots. If she wasn't protecting her cubs, I would have been a tiny bit less concerned.
That was an experience that I'd rather not re-live. LOL
If a bear, any bear, is close enough for me to smell-well let's just say it's time to fly away!Not exactly. I never even saw the big sow coming because it was too dark. I felt her weight transfer onto the ladderstand and knew I was in trouble. She climbed so smoothly to the top that I wasn't sure where she was until her big melon was between my boots. If she wasn't protecting her cubs, I would have been a tiny bit less concerned.
That was an experience that I'd rather not re-live. LOL
Not exactly. I never even saw the big sow coming because it was too dark. I felt her weight transfer onto the ladderstand and knew I was in trouble. She climbed so smoothly to the top that I wasn't sure where she was until her big melon was between my boots. If she wasn't protecting her cubs, I would have been a tiny bit less concerned.
That was an experience that I'd rather not re-live. LOL
Did the wife give you a hard time about the smelly brown stain on your shorts?
Last edited:
Big and black. That's all I know about cattle. He outweighs the Kubota substantially.
Grizzly60
Well-Known Member
LDWF says we don't have the big cats. There are many pics of them on game cameras.
And LDWF says it's illegal to shoot them. Go figure.
