Home Forums Hunting & Shooting General Big Game Worst hunting story you ever heard.

Heck I live that sort of thing, And thinking do't hunt with stuppit people. Well I see a grundle of that. Just about ever time I hunt, by myself kid-ya-not.Kawi

Have heard similar hunting stories that started out right, but ended up with accidents and death. So I'd usually go hunting with a buddy so that somebody can watch my back, and someone can watch his' I carry a small megaphone so that if danger's anywhere near, I can easily warn my buddy even at a far distance. Weird? Only keeping our safety in mind.

Who the hell watches the watchers back? Where does it end? Megaphone? you gotta be chitting us......

DANGER, DANGER, 6:00 o'clock, 400 yds. over and out......

My worse hunting story was in high school when a bunch of us were spotlighting coons & varmit hunting coyotes & bobcats for spending money back when furs were actually worth something.
We were getting out of the truck when one of my buddies old Remington 22 auto discharges & shoots me in the leg. It was a complete pass through that missed bones & arteries, but just barely missed my femoral artery by about 1/2"

Didn't hurt too bad, but it hurt like heck at the hospital when the ER nurse ran what looked like 50 caliber brush all the way thru the wound with no deadening shot for pain & poored half a bottle of alcohol & betadine or what we use to call "monkey blood" on it. That hurt like hell !

This just happened 2 weeks ago.

After hunting the morning on Sunday, I went home to get one of my boys to come out with me. Halfway home, I see an ambulance out at the edge of a woods. Oh, that isnt good I thought. Turns out, a deer hunter shot a big buck. He then started tracking the blood trail and had a heart attack and died. They found the buck and I have a picture of it. It is a huge, heavy buck that would probably score in the 160s.

But the worst one I heard was a guy turkey hunting in southern MN with his son. He saw a flock and told his son to stay there and he stalked the flock. He saw movement and shot his son. The son didnt listen (he was pretty young) and the dad shot at movement. The importance of bagging game is overblown in our culture on many occasions.

Used to deer hunt Dale Hollow Lake a bunch 5-10 years ago.

Watched 5 guys go out by boat one very cold morning. They far exceeded the weight rating for the boat. Not one of them was wearing a life preserver and everyone bundled up with tons of clothes.

Told my brother-in-law that looked like an accident waiting to happen. I wish I would have been wrong.

We found out later that day their boat had capsized and two of them didn't make it to shore. If memory serves, a father and son.

Crime during hunting

Keep in mind that I was 6 or 7 when I heard this story so I am embellishing a little.

In the early 1970's in northern Nevada, a county sherriff stopped by the fire and asked my Dad if we had seen or heard anything in the creek bottom the previous couple of days. We had been out in the hills both days so we had missed the happenings along the creek.

On opening day two grandsons had taken their horses up into some roadless areas. The oldest grandson took a large muley buck and on the way back down the youngest grandson had taken an equally large buck that supposedly looked like the twin to the first deer. At camp that afternoon they hung the deer up on a meat pole, and he and his brother went back up into the hills to find a couple of does for their second tags. Their grandpa and his lap dog staid behind in camp. When the two grandsons came back at dark they found their grandfather dead in his camp chair with a gunshot to the head. The lap dog was hanging from the meat pole with the deer tags tied to its leg. It was gutted.

Keep in mind that these two "boys" were both cowhands on a large family ranch in the area. In the early 1970's they were very much immersed in the old way of life of their grandfather's time. They carried pistols in cross draw holsters. Full leather chaps, and spurs. The real deal.

The boys mounted up and went looking for their deer. They found them just a few miles down the road in a camp full of drunks. The oldest boy asked who shot the big bucks, and one of the drunks started telling the "story" of how he dropped the hammer on the huge deer. Nobody else chimed in on taking the second deer.

The boy asked if the hunter knew that his trophy deer hanging there was a bank robber? What? Its a bank robber. If you go over to it and check that cut in its ear you will find a dime in the cut.

The drunk staggers over and sure enough there is a cut on the ear and a dime is stuck in the cut. The drunk turns around and asked how did you know? Thats when the kid, still on horse back, draws his pistol and shoots the drunk right in the head. The rest of the drunks hightail it into the dark night. The kids disable the trucks and take their deer back to camp.

The reason for the dime in the ear was to tell the two bucks apart we were told. We never heard if charges were filed against the grandsons, but the sherriff said that not all the drunks had been rounded up so lock up and don't leave your keys in the truck.

So we did not hear or see anything, but the sherriff gave me a brand new hunter orange vest and said that on opening day a man had shot his daughter while she was peeing behind a bush and then shot himself. He emplored my dad to make everyone wore a vest. We did anyway back then, but the new one was better than the cheapo plastic one I already had.

Wow,

At least he died with family - doing what he loved. As I think about it, I wouldn't mind going the same way.