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So I have developed a curse of sorts in regard to hunting trips. Three years ago I drew a really good Idaho mule deer tag ,a month before the trip I dislocated my knee cap at work , I still went. I was basically worthless. The year after I got sick as a dog before a bear hunt spent two days in a tent dehydrated and all sorts of messed up , but didnt go home. Last year I took a guy from here(24hrcf) deer hunting , he showed up sick as a dog , we still went. Now im going Sheep Hunting in less than two weeks , gave myself a hernia at work , Im still going , told the doctor ill do the surgery when I get back. Getting older is bullshit! My wife just looks at me and shakes her head because she knows Im going as long as I can breathe, walk or crawl.I love hunting and wont be stopped. Anyone else got any good hunting hurt experiences?

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Wife told me she wanted a divorce 2 days before I left for a turkey hunt in Arizona. Didn't know if the house would be empty or not when I returned.


"Dear Lord, save me from Your followers"
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You are my hero , did you get any turkeys?

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One of my buds was going on a Canadian fishing trip with me. His long time girlfriend aka:bitch told him it was either her or the fishing trip. We had a ball grin

Last edited by ingwe; 07/26/14.

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Sorry to get off topic�.my Bud didn't look hurt or sick when we were fishing. grin


"...the left considers you vermin, and they'll kill you given the chance..." Bristoe
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I think I saw a bumper sticker once that read : "ditch the bitch lets go fish." We all have to have prioritys

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Had a buddy in Astoria, Oregon who in his 40's got married to a really good-looking blond about 10 years younger than him. We had done some fishing together over the years but he really wanted to come big game hunting with me in Montana.

We first planned a deer hunt, which of course involved him getting a non-resident tag, which even then wasn't cheap and involved a drawing. She got sick just before he was supposed to leave so he couldn't come. A couple years later we planned a black bear hunt, which luckily is OTC but still not cheap for a non-res, and guess what? She got real sick a day or so before he was supposed to leave.

After three years he realized she "got sick" every time he was supposed to go on anything except a day trip, whether for fishing or hunting, and divorced her.


“Montana seems to me to be what a small boy would think Texas is like from hearing Texans.”
John Steinbeck
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Arizona, 1992

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I had a hunting buddy once who came home to an empty house. He went turkey hunting and the wife moved out on him.

Me? I contracted Pneumonia (they call it "The New Mown Hay" in the Greater Neave Metroplex) over the Turkey Opener a few years ago. It started to come on the day before. I went out, and managed to kill a nice bird at flydown, but I was coughing so bad, the birds were honoring my hacking about as much as they were honoring my calls.

I even made a podcast:
Turkey Opener 2011

My buddy SuperCore was just getting over the New Mown Hay himself. I called a bird for him a day or so later, but by then we were both in pretty rugged shape. We'd walk 10 feet and then hand the bird over the other and rest twenty minutes-- took forever to walk a few hundred yards. The next morning, I came back in and announced I was calling it quits. I made it home, but then there is about 24 hours that's missing. My folks took me to the doc a couple of days later, got me on antibiotics and I started to turn around.

The only other story I can give was back in 1999 when I got the Muldar's Neuroma. I went out bow hunting on the Ohio Opener. I was about a half-mile from the truck, when I got a nasty pain in my left foot. I limped part of the way, and then it got worse. I ended crawling a good part of the way to the truck. It felt like an electrical shock between the last two toes that would not quit. Long story short, I went to the doc and over Thanksgiving they operated and took out the nerve. I was on a scooter for a month, but I did manage to hobble out once and sit for a while at sundown with my bow. The doc that operated on me was a deer hunter, and he brought me some venison for my last checkup.

Last edited by shaman; 07/26/14. Reason: added link

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Not to hijack a thread but I once came home from an elk hunt to an empty house. Turned out to be the luckiest day of my life!


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I have 3 herniated discs in my lumbar spine, and arthritic joints from the neck down. I hunt hurting every time. It is never easy. At times it has been nightmarishly brutal, trying to get meat out. I count myself as lucky that I get to do it though, and it is never not worth it, though a few times I have questioned that. I'd rather not consider the possibility that I won't be able to do it someday. Hunting, and alpine big game hunting in particular, is in my bones.

Last edited by HuntnShoot; 07/26/14.

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Exactly how I feel:
"I count myself as lucky that I get to do it though, and it is never not worth it, though a few times I have questioned that. I'd rather not consider the possibility that I won't be able to do it someday. Hunting, and alpine big game hunting in particular, is in my bones."

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I have been or gotten sick a few times on hunts. I try and make the best of it while doing my best not to effect the other guys on the hunt. If that means laying in the lodge or camp one or two days then thats what I do to get better and back on my feet. Sticking it out and getting seriously sick or injured then having to have someone run you in to a hospital or worse aint a good thing for anyone.


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My biggest fear has been with contracting Giardia on my Alaskan hunts. I always got the meds and thankfully came home and dumped them.


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I had rotator cuff surgery on my right shoulder one month before the Pa. Deer opener back in 2006. I was out there opening morning, Rehawk in the left hand. The Doc and my wife weren't too happy but I tied my right arm in tight to my body so I couldn't reach out to grab something if I fell and off to the woods I went.

I tore both patellar tendons in mid October 2009, that did keep me out of the woods that year, I wasn't even allowed to stand for 2 weeks after surgery. Long road back, the lesson there is don't fall down the steps.

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Having the flu on an Oregon west side elk hunt cost me a nice bull one snowy day. Had hunted a lone bull for three days, sickern a dog, and couldn't locate his bed. Finally just too sick to keep hunting in the wet, dripping slush, so dropped my head in defeat and headed for the truck for the last time.

Yep, kicked him up at 70 yards, nice bull, no shot opportunity since I was dragging my rifle in the dirt!!!!


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One time as a young whipper snapper....probably 15 or 16, I took a greyhound bus down to my grandma's in Nebraska to bow hunt in November over thanksgiving vacation. Got pneumonia, got too sick to catch the bus back home. Started missing classes. My Mom had her Uncle nicknamed Roop fly me back to Minnesota in his Cessna. Pretty special times....thank lord for antibiotics.

Last edited by Angus1895; 07/26/14.

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Having health issues interfere with a hunt is something I know a little about. Back in the 1980's I managed to break a couple ribs opening morning. Could hardly breathe, let alone hunt, although I tried. Ended up going home.

In 2004 We blew the clutch on my F250 while headed out to elk camp. Cost us a day. That same year that a 20-year-old bullet wound in my left leg was giving me a great deal of trouble, making walking very difficult. I opted to postpone surgery until after the hunt, hoping it wouldn't get worse. It did, and I very nearly didn't make the hunt at all.

I forget the year but it was a few years back. While doe hunting around Lamar I managed to get bitten by a rattler. fortunately only one fang. A trip to the hospital first, followed by several days of very painful walking with a foot the size of a baseball. Tried to continue to hunt. The guys would drop me off and I'd just stand still, which was hard enough, hoping doves would fly by. Don't think I got may more doves but did get a couple shots off. At that point I didn't care one way or another.

In 2006 my hunting buddy and I got our elk opening morning. The next morning as we prepared to leave camp to hunt deer we discovered my wife was in the hospital with leukemia.

In 2009 I injured my hip so badly I could barely walk. Mostly hunted from the truck.



My hunting buddy has more serious problems. He is diabetic and I think he is prone to altitude sickness. Here is his record from 2004:
2004 - Went home sick on day 2.
2005 - Hallucinating on way back to camp. Blood chemistry was messed up. Got some food in him and he was OK after that.
2007 - Threw up while dragging out his deer.
2009 - Stayed home sick.
2012 - Very badly sprained ankle day 1, stayed in camp day 2, went home day 3.
2013 - Went home sick on day 2.

2008 - Didn't hunt.
2010 - Didn't hunt.
2011 - Didn't hunt.

Every year I get to go elk hunting I count my blessings. Elk hunting is why I moved to Colorado.

Last edited by Coyote_Hunter; 07/27/14.

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Some years ago, I badly sprained an ankle just before deer season. Hunting was difficult at best but it did have it's entertainment value....

The road ended on top of a long ridge. We parked near several other vehicles and I, along with my sister, hobbled along the ridge to its end where I planned to spend the day sitting. Her husband went elsewhere and would meet us there a few hours later.

While sitting, we watched this unfold: One of the other rigs parked near us was a group of 4 men. One of them dropped WAY down off the steep ridge and shot a big buck. He came back up and found the other 3. They spent all afternoon dragging the deer up the ridge. We could hear them talking and cussing down below us for several hours and could see them occasionally in the sagebrush.
After they got it to the top, my BIL showed up so we hobbled back to the truck. We looked at their deer and congratulated him on a nice buck (it certainly WAS nice!) and left. We'd watched it all from a different vantage point. We just didn't have the heart to tell them that from where we sat, we could see a road and several camp trailers parked within 200 yds below where he shot it. His buddies would have killed him.


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Some years ago, I went with a buddy of mine to Moran Jct. Wyoming to hunt elk and moose. My buddy had the moose license. I had a chest cold, but decided to go anyway.
We got to the ranch where we picked up horses at dark, and decided to go ahead and ride up the mountain to camp that nite. In the hurry to get going, I didn't change into my Sorels, and by the time we got to camp, I had frostbite on my feet.
Over the next two days, my condition got worse, and my feet hurt like crazy. Next morning, I stayed in camp, trying to get warm around the campfire. All of a sudden, my buddy came riding into camp, with blood pouring from his hand- he had killed a moose, and in the process of quartering with a super-sharp hatchet, had nearly severed the index finger on his left hand.
I saddled up, and the two of us rode off the mountain as fast as we could to get him to the hospital at Jackson Hole.
Once we got to the emergency room, we were finally waited on by a doctor, named Walker, who appeared to be either stoned or drunk. He cleaned up my buddy's hand, put a butterfly bandage on it, prescribed him some pills, and prescribed me some elixir which was mostly Codeine- we came to refer to it as 'Dr. Walker's cough medicine'. He looked at my feet, and proclaimed that I would lose my toenails- which I did, all of them, in a few weeks.
We stayed in Jackson hole at a hotel for a couple of days, and by that time I was feeling a whole lot better, thanks to the 'cough medicine'. We decided that we needed to head back to camp, and take care of my buddy's moose. It turned out that other hunters in camp had packed the moose down to the main lodge, where we loaded it up and headed for home in Casper, WY.
My buddy's finger never fully healed, and for years after, it still scabbed up and oozed. Perhaps a stitch job would have been in order.......


I'd rather be a free man in my grave, than living as a puppet or a slave....
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