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Discussion Starter · #1 ·
When you think back over your hunting years, what one hunt stands out as the most memorable for you.
 

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come on Mike you must have more than one.

mine is my first Pheasant when i was 10 my dad was a member of a syndicate that shot driven game. I had been beating all season and begging for a turn to shoot but it wasn't until the boxing day shoot that he let me stand in line with the gun, first bird forward was a cock Pheasant straight for me one shot he was done and i was hooked!
 

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Discussion Starter · #3 ·
brettwilby said:
come on Mike you must have more than one.

mine is my first Pheasant when i was 10 my dad was a member of a syndicate that shot driven game. I had been beating all season and begging for a turn to shoot but it wasn't until the boxing day shoot that he let me stand in line with the gun, first bird forward was a cock Pheasant straight for me one shot he was done and i was hooked!
Sure, there are lots of memorable hunts, but the one that I think of most was my first deer hunt. I had just returned from Viet Nam in 1970, and one of my cousins asked me to go hunting with him. This was about a month before the season opener. I didn't own any hunting clothes, let alone a rifle, so my cousin loaned me one of his two rifles. His deer rifle was a Reminton Model 700 in 30:06, and the rifle he loaned me was a custom benchrest rifle in .308 that weighed 15 pounds and was topped with a 20x scope. I went out and bought a 4x Weaver scope for it, and my cousin loaded up some 165 grain Core Lokt loads. Well, on opening morning we went out into the woods and my cousin put me in a permanent tree stand that overlooked some scrub oak thickets that boardered a huge corn field. Ten minutes after opening time, I heard noises coming down through the scrub, and saw six or seven does followed by a buck. I put the rifle on an opening in the brush where I figured they would pass and waited. A short time later, all the deer filtered through the opening and when I saw antlers, I fired. The buck took off running. My cousin had told me not to leave my stand: he'd come back for me if he heard me shoot. About 3 minutes later he showed up, and I explained what had happened. He asked how many points it had, and I said I don't know, but it was huge. He got all excited, and we went to check out where the buck had been when I fired. There was some hair, blood, and corn. He said that indicated a gut shot, which wasn't good, but by the color of the blood I might have caught the liver, and if that was the case, it shouldn't go far. He got on the blood trail, while I moved off to the side, looking for any sign up ahead. After about 90 - 100 yards, we saw it laying stone dead! I was thrilled, and ran up to it, made sure it had passed on, and immediately wrapped my arms around the neck of my "monster" forked horn buck. He said, I thought you said it was huge. I told him that it sure looked huge when I looked at it. And that's my most memorable hunt.

Reading about your hunt, I can see why it's so special to you. Congratulations! :cool:
 

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Oh man this is a tough one, everyone that knows me knows that I love telling and hearing hunting stories. I could go on for pages. My first rifle deer, my first archery deer, but topping those is the caribou hunt I went on a few years back. Super long story but everything that could go wrong did go wrong in -40 temps like the Argo on fire, then the Argo breaking down on the winter road, malfunctioning equipment, and in the end renting a couple snowmobiles for a day off a local native and going hunting with him and getting all our tags filled. It was an adventure to top all others I've had.
 

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Discussion Starter · #5 ·
clawj said:
Oh man this is a tough one, everyone that knows me knows that I love telling and hearing hunting stories. I could go on for pages. My first rifle deer, my first archery deer, but topping those is the caribou hunt I went on a few years back. Super long story but everything that could go wrong did go wrong in -40 temps like the Argo on fire, then the Argo breaking down on the winter road, malfunctioning equipment, and in the end renting a couple snowmobiles for a day off a local native and going hunting with him and getting all our tags filled. It was an adventure to top all others I've had.
WOW! :eek:
 

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It was Sept. 11th, 2001....myself and my dad were bowhunting elk in Sprucewoods. We decided to spend the night close to where the elk were feeding in a small alfalfa field, all night the bull was running his cows in that field. The bugling was insane, they were 200 yards away in the field. Finally it was almost legal shooting, so we snuck to the field and tried to see where they were, but the fog that covered the field was so thick. We were waiting to see them before trying to call, and after about a half hour the fog began to lift. We couldn't believe the sight, the bull, a good 6x5 was standing on a bale while about 15-20 cows and calves milled around and fed. It was one of the best sights i have seen in the outdoors. I figured i would give some cow calls to see if i could get him to come over and look for his lost cow, but he could care less. So i let out a bugle, before i was finished he was answering back! We could only see the shilouettes of the elk, so we decied to sneak from bale to bale to try and get closer. It was working great, the bull would bugle and chase a cow around, we would move to a closer bale. We were about 100 yards away from the herd when all of a sudden the lead cow took off running for the bush, with all the herd and the bull right behind her! I quickly got on the call and let out a bugle, he answered again, so i knew they hadn't gone too far. I set my dad up by a bale and moved to the treeline behind us and started to call and thrash a tree....the bull would do the same! About 15 minutes had gone by without hearing or seeing any movement, so we decided to go take a look. At the edge of the bush, it dropped off about 15 feet and then there was maybe 50 yards till the river. My dad went down into the bottom and i stayed up on the edge of the field to call. I called, no answer....thrashed a tree again, no answer....i was just about to call again when a tree infront of me, about 10 yards and down the slope, began to shake and break. I thought it was my dad, but it was the bull! The bush was so thick i could only see his antlers and head, my dad was 15 yards to my right and could see the bull too, we both had no shot. He turned his head right up to me and let out a hellacious bugle that sent shivers through my whole body. Apparently my dad tried to get a better angle on the bull, but forgot about the cows and calves that were still there, only bedded down. They all barked and chirpped as the took off, and so did the bull...we could hear them crashing off and outta our lives forever.
After we gathered our stuff and made it back to the truck, we decided to move to another area...by this time it was around 11:30....we turned on the radio and heard the news about the attacks in New York, the time the world sood still.

I will never forget that hunt for the rest of my life. Even though we didn't harvest a bull on that trip, it was still the most memorable hunt i have ever had.
 

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Discussion Starter · #7 ·
A great adventure on such a tragic day.
 

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That's a wicked story FK, the first elk bugle I heard was all it took to get me hooked on elk hunting, it's an awesome sound. I still haven't shot one after three hard years of trying, heartbreakingly close but so far no cigar. With a rifle it would be no problem but it's been a challenge with the bow, they are just so damn smart and elusive. But it's addictive and I'll keep doing it, it'll be that much sweeter when I do stick one!
 

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We were at Spruce Woods, and I was walking to my intended spot, over looking a clearing. I topped a rise, and looked through my cheap bino's, to see a tail running away. I crouched down, put my gun on the bipod, and watched a small doe start to eat. Way behind her, I see a bigger deer just standing there, but it is still slightly dark and I can't see no horns against the bushy backdrop. I watched them both for about 10 minutes, and the bigger deer starts walking toward the bush. I figure no problem, just the mother to the doe feeding in front of me. I get up, and start walking to my spot again. I see the other deer come back up from a dip, and crouch down again, take my back pack off, put my gun on the bipod, and take another look, just in case. The deer is coming right at me, at a slight angle, fur standing up, and neck in a fighting position. I find this odd, until a second later, when it lifts it's head, and I see it has a nice rack on it. I see enough, and squeeze the trigger. The deer drops in it's tracks with my first hand loaded rounds I made for this gun, and never moved a muscle. I walked past it twice before I found it, about 220 yds from where I was crouched. A lot of luck on this one for sure, but definitely a good time.
 

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Discussion Starter · #10 ·
I think we all deserve to be lucky some time, eh? Nice job. Your persistance sure paid off.
 

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Discussion Starter · #12 ·
I've always maintained that's it's better to be lucky, than good. :lol:
 

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Interesting that the theme here seems to be about the adventure part of the hunt. It made me remember a week long moose hunt in the Leaf Rapids area a buddy and I did a number of years back. We were not successful and only saw one cow the whole week. The water in the Churchill River system was over 10 feet higher than normal that fall. Talk about bad timing. But the thing that made it the most memorable was that we went into a totally new area as rookies, talked to a local CO for some advice, talked to a few locals including some very helpful First Nations people and went about our adventure. That included running miles up the Rat River system one early morning in the dark and pea soup fog following a track we had run on a handheld GPS the day before while scouting. That is impounded water and seeing the dead standing timber appear a few feet ahead of the boat out of that fog was pretty eerie. The funniest part of the whole trip was seeing the look on my daughter and son-in-laws faces after we practiced calling in their basement one evening :lmao:.
 
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