What’s your spookiest hunting experience?

My dad taught me to ALWAYS carry a sidearm when hunting. If your rifle jams, there are critters out there that would love to have you for dinner.
That same year during the rut, I had a buck become very interested in walking back to the truck. I sat out late so I wouldn't spook the deer, I had a number of them around when it got dark and one looked really good in the low light. It was too dark to tell how old he was, so no shot. There were 3-5 bucks hassling the does and one of them really wanted to make sure I wasn't a doe in heat! I ended up ducking behind a tree when he was about five yards away and hit him in the eyes with my green cap light. I was better prepared that night (and they were not spooky) but I really didn't want to shoot a buck after dark even in self defense.

Didn't end up shooting anything with horns that year, but did have a couple of does in the freezer from bow season. Still had an interesting season though!
 
That same year during the rut, I had a buck become very interested in walking back to the truck. I sat out late so I wouldn't spook the deer, I had a number of them around when it got dark and one looked really good in the low light. It was too dark to tell how old he was, so no shot. There were 3-5 bucks hassling the does and one of them really wanted to make sure I wasn't a doe in heat! I ended up ducking behind a tree when he was about five yards away and hit him in the eyes with my green cap light. I was better prepared that night (and they were not spooky) but I really didn't want to shoot a buck after dark even in self defense.

Didn't end up shooting anything with horns that year, but did have a couple of does in the freezer from bow season. Still had an interesting season though!
Too bad it wasn't light. At that range, it would have been easy to have him climb up in the truck and go home with you!😁🤪 After buying him a drink of course.😉
 
Was working a d-7 level prospect in the Tundra, about 100 miles north of Nome. Rolling small mountains / hills. We were staying in a camp made for a bucket dredge outfit in the 1930s. This was 60 years later. The houses, kitchen, etc were on skids. The old dredge was a bit below us, it had gotten frozen in and hull breached back in the 30s.
We were working a feeder creek, about 5 miles from the old camp. Last day of sampling, all of a sudden a young bull Moose appears on the track we had made with the dozer, headed right towards me and my mate. 12 gauge was leaning against the 6 wheeler that was across said track. I jumped across and grabbed it before my more experienced partner could grab me and pull me back. He said, Dont mess with a moose; and what the heck made this bull moose (covered in froth like a racehorse) just slide on by and keep moving? Only a Seward Peninsula Griz. So we called it a day.
Next day, we were leaving this particular sampling are so all that was left was for me to take the 6 wheeler from camp and pick up the sampling equipment. 3 round trips.
The country was true tundra, like a low grass prairie, except for the bottoms which had 5 to 10 foot tall willows. Imagine Kansas, pre-farmers, with a bit of terrain.
Last trip for equipment, as I was entering a copse of those willows, on the way out, all of a sudden I SMELLED a bear.
I had guided wilderness canoe trips in Ontario and Manitoba for 6 years, and then been an airborne ranger for 3 years, but rarely had I ever had my hair stand up on end like that.
I had a 12 gauge riot gun slung over my back, and a thumb throttle. I chose the throttle, and apparently I won that race; I am still kicking. Never saw that stinky critter.
 
Was working a d-7 level prospect in the Tundra, about 100 miles north of Nome. Rolling small mountains / hills. We were staying in a camp made for a bucket dredge outfit in the 1930s. This was 60 years later. The houses, kitchen, etc were on skids. The old dredge was a bit below us, it had gotten frozen in and hull breached back in the 30s.
We were working a feeder creek, about 5 miles from the old camp. Last day of sampling, all of a sudden a young bull Moose appears on the track we had made with the dozer, headed right towards me and my mate. 12 gauge was leaning against the 6 wheeler that was across said track. I jumped across and grabbed it before my more experienced partner could grab me and pull me back. He said, Dont mess with a moose; and what the heck made this bull moose (covered in froth like a racehorse) just slide on by and keep moving? Only a Seward Peninsula Griz. So we called it a day.
Next day, we were leaving this particular sampling are so all that was left was for me to take the 6 wheeler from camp and pick up the sampling equipment. 3 round trips.
The country was true tundra, like a low grass prairie, except for the bottoms which had 5 to 10 foot tall willows. Imagine Kansas, pre-farmers, with a bit of terrain.
Last trip for equipment, as I was entering a copse of those willows, on the way out, all of a sudden I SMELLED a bear.
I had guided wilderness canoe trips in Ontario and Manitoba for 6 years, and then been an airborne ranger for 3 years, but rarely had I ever had my hair stand up on end like that.
I had a 12 gauge riot gun slung over my back, and a thumb throttle. I chose the throttle, and apparently I won that race; I am still kicking. Never saw that stinky critter.
He got that close you could smell him? Yikes! Stain you pants? 💩
 
I realize this could go a few different directions, but I know we all have some stories that left us freaked out or weirded out.

I have two, both deer hunting in Northern Idaho. Hiking down a skid road when I heard the most insane yipping and cayaying. It was heading right at me at speed, and I went from confused to fully assuming I was about to be whacked by coyotes/wolves/feral dogs. My hind brain took over and I dove behind a stump and threw my rifle across it, just in time to see a pair of Barred Owls come zooming through the brush, just making the most godawful racket you've ever heard. Took a few minutes to calm down after that.

Second was weirder and still unexplained. I packed a small muley about 4 miles back to the truck, arrived around 9pm, and found another guy waiting by my truck. Super nice, said he was just making sure I made it off the mountain cause it wasn't the safest area (his words). I asked him why, and he just put his finger to his lips and said "sit and listen". I was wrecked so I was happy to sit for a bit. After about 5 minutes, on the opposite side of the canyon I heard what I can only describe as a wounded elk squalling. Half bugle, high pitched, but changing tempo and pitch oddly. It went straight to the spine and made me want to bail. Right as that sound ended, the same type of call lit off on the mountain I had just came down. A third call answered the second from back to the west a good ways. These three calls went back and forth for all of 15-20 minutes before they just stopped with no warning. The other guy and I hadn't said a word the whole time we listened, fairly transfixed. Then he just smiled and me and said "this is why I waited. Not a good mountain to be on after dark". And off he drove. I have no idea what I heard that night (I'm not a big foot believer) but it was the most eerie, hair raising communication I've ever heard. I moved shortly after that (graduated from school and moved home) and I've never been back up there.
I have truly enjoyed this thread! Thanks for bringing it up. Hope to hear many more stories.
 
Buddy and I were dove hunting, sundown came he says lets clean the birds, build a fire and eat. We get the fire going when a deep throaty growl comes out of the dark and it's darn close,
being 12/15 y o on bicycles we lit out like our hair was on fire and our *** was catching! Figured it must've been a big bobcat or Florida panther.
Ask him how he wants his birds cooked. Maybe he'll pass on you for dinner.😁🤪
 
Had a pack of wolves come in on me elk hunting right at dark. That gets the hair on your neck to stand up. But the most spooked I have ever been was from a storm. 50+ MPH gusts in a burn area is scary in a tent. We luckily found the only open area to pitch our tent and listen to trees breaking around us all night. Every time I would hear a gust coming I would sit up and hold the center pole of our seek outside tipi, praying the tent would hold. Sounded like an avalanche coming down the mountain when a gust would come through. I had just shot a buck earlier in the day so we were dead tired from that. Got out of the tent the next morning and my cousin shot a buck on the hillside right from our tent. Not spooky in the sense of ghosts or murders, but I sure was spooked! I have no idea what we would have done if it took our tent. We were 3-4 miles from the pickup off trail through deadfall.
Mother nature can do things to us humans that we will never be able to fathom.
 
He was about seventy five yards behind me, he said that whenever I would turn my head to listen he would lay down real quick. His dark green uniform just blended in. He was about ten yards behind me as I was getting into the truck. He was a sneaky SOB. But I guess that is job description for game warden.
Acting like that will get you a couple of extra body vents. Incredibly stupid thing to do.
 
Mike, Aka, bear bait. Was guiding two lawyers and their wives late in the season. Salmon run was over, for the most part But these two lawyers booked a fishing/ river trip for trout and grayling. The guide service was closing for the winter and Mike and the lodge owner were the only people left, other than the cook. So Mike took them out. It was early September and starting to be cold. The first two days went great and Mike was expecting a good tip for this, they were catching lots of fish and having a great time. Then it went bad! He had the four clients in a wall tent, he slept in a bivy sac between the camp fire and the tent. He was waken by something tripping over the tie down lines to the biv sac. He slid out a shined his light only to see a nine foot brown bear ten feet away. Then he heard another sound and saw another one directly behind him. Two nine foot bears in the camp. Ten feet from the wall tent and the sleeping lawyers and wives. Out comes the 12 gauge again. But he knew he wasn't pulling the trigger on these two. He watched as they walked off out of the camp fire light. Breathing a sigh of relief he scooted back in his little sac. Twenty minutes later, they are back. Now they are sniffing around the wall tent. He hits them with his flashlight which only brings one over to him. It's now at the end of his sac, about eight feet. He's looking down the barrel of the 870 at it scared poop less. It huffs at him and walks off about fifteen yards and gets in a fight with the other bear. He's out of the sac now headed to the wall tent. The wives are awake! He gets the two guys out and dressed. Wives are coming un glued now. He's telling them to keep quiet without much success. The guys are out of the tent and the bears have moved off about thirty yards. Mike is watching the bears while the two guys are stoking up the camp fire. The two guys and the wives are scared sh#$ less. They threw everything that they can on the fire for three more hours until day light. The bears never moved more than fifty yards away the whole time and circled the camp. When it got light enough to see he had them in the boat headed back to the lodge. Four hour trip with the wives explaining why they were never going on another trip with them. That's the trip that got him the bear bait nickname. When he and the lodge owner went back for the tents and stove and other camping equipment it had been wiped out by the bears. He did get a good tip. The lawyer's were impressed with the way he kept his head during the whole time they were surrounded by the big Brown bears. The wives, not so much. They were the first two out on the float plane. When you want adventure be careful, you may get it !
Excellent!
 
Please, no one hesitate to post multiple stories. I think the goal of this is just to drop all the crazy stuff you've seen. If you've been in the woods for years, you're bound to have several stories and I wanna hear them all.

More come to mind reading through all of these. I had two experiences being tracked by critters that had me surprised at how easily I was snuck up on.

First was hunting with my cousin Casey. We went everywhere together back in those days. One snow day we were sitting in a little blind made of sticks waiting for deer. Got in before dark, stayed til 10-11am before getting too cold and moving back to the truck (which wasn't far. 200-300 yards). When we got up, we found mountain lion tracks in the snow behind us about 50 feet, and a big melted patch where he had sad and watched us for however long it took to melt the snow. The tracks ranged in about a 1/3 circle around our backs, before going back down to our trucks, circling it once, then heading off. We had no inclination, no sounds, no hair raising to warn us there was a critter there. We didn't stand a chance tucked into our cramped 3 sides stick and branch blind.

Second one, also hunting with Casey, chasing turkeys. We climbed this small semi muddy hill during spring season, and coming back down we found 7" wide bear tracks and enormous purple poop piles in our footprints from 15 minutes earlier. We didn't even have to say a word, we both just booked it hard home.

Last one for the night, unrelated to the above. Was out 4 wheeling with Casey and we stretched the truck a bit and disconnected the rear driveline. Had to hike out and get some help after digging for a few hours, so it was well past dark. On the way down the mountain, Casey has the light and I have the .45. We're just heading down the road and something EXPLODES from the ditch line and goes into the trees. Without missing a beat, Casey dives behind me with the flashlight raised up over my head and I had the .45 out and ready to go, only to find a Turkey had flown to roost in a nearby tree. Took a while to slow the hearts after that.
Pant stained I'm sure.
 
Ok, hear goes another one. I was 23 years old, fresh out of the Air Force. Been stationed out on the end of the Alaska Peninsula. Crappy little island called Shemya. But I was flush with cash and had a VW beetle. I went fishing somewhere around the Anchorage area every day during the summer. I was on a little creek near willow, about a mile from salt water. The F and G people were putting bright yellow and green tags on salmon, you could see them coming fifty yards down the creek. I'd been fishing with a mepps spinner for trout. But when I saw the salmon I took out my pliers and worked the blade back and forth until it broke off.now I have a weighted treble hook. Didn't take long to snag one. It was legal then. Well, my light weight rig wasn't up to handling ten pound salmon, it was burning line off the reel. I took off chasing it up stream. I ran across a sand bar and around a bend in the Creek. My hook was caught on a snag. Well, poo. I'll go back and hook another one. I'm walking down the sand bar I'd Just ran down three minutes ago. There is a giant Brown bear track on top of my boot print. My Ruger hand gun is out and I'm scanning the bushes. Nothing! But I'm spooked. It had to have watched me run by from only feet away. I packed up my stuff and found another creek to fish.
Aww, you didn't like living on the "Rock"? A bit windy for my taste. I bet I hauled more crap out there than I can count.
 
A few stories...
Sitting in my tree stand at the edge of a field one day outside Smithfield, VA. It is a normal, quiet day until the woods come alive with horrific screaming. It goes on for maybe a couple of minutes and then all goes quiet again. I don't know if it was a battle amongst foxes, bobcats or raccoons, but it was pretty eerie.

Hunting just north of Divide, CO about 8 years ago with a buddy of mine. We split up and meet back at the truck several hours later. He says that I need to come with him to see what he found. He's a bit freaked out about it but he won't tell me about what he found. He takes me a couple of hundred yards off the road to an old campsite that looks like nobody had been there for at least a few days. No tent or sleeping bag to be found, so we think it may have just been someone's resting spot. Next to the fire ring is a backpack with some pictures of family members(?), coffee, sugar, a few clothes. We guess that the older gentlemen in some of the pictures was the owner of the backpack. A book and glasses are laying on the fire ring. Some old, torn up rain gear is thrown over a fallen tree. A loaded shotgun is leaning up against a tree, just feet away. The shotgun had been there for at least a few days as there was a little rust forming in the barrel. We try not to disturb the scene too much and call 911 as we don't know if this is a missing person situation, a lost hiker or something else. A couple of deputies show up and question us before letting us go. Never heard what came of the situation.

Hunting turkeys east of Walsenburg, CO a couple of years ago. It is a very arid area, almost desert-like. We are walking across a field towards a woodline when I catch something out of the corner of my eye just as I'm about to set my right foot down. It is kind of funny how you can launch vertically when only one foot is on the ground and you're off-balance. I'm not afraid of snakes, but when you unexpectedly catch a 3'+ snake that blends in with the dry grass slinking across your path and right where you are going to put your foot, it will scare the !@#$ out of you. Turns out it was just a harmless, puffed up Bull Snake. We all lived to see another day.

Sitting in a tree stand on Ft. Leavenworth, KS. This small Army post has the largest standing block of old timber in the state of Kansas, or so I'm told. Lots of huge, old trees down by the river. When you hear the distinctive cracking of wood getting more frequent, the pucker factor tends to go up. When you hear a big tree falling in the woods and taking other trees down with it, you start to wonder if your tree is going to be next. I don't know how far away that tree was from the one I was in, but when it hit the ground, I could feel my tree shaking. Way too close for comfort!
 
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