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I was trying to get too bed last night and couldn't stop thinking about a deer that I had failed to pull the trigger on 10 years ago.

I was going to my hunting spot down a cut line when the deer walked out in front of me. It was a doe. I stopped my truck and glassed her with my binoculars. I could see she was looking back waiting for something to come out.

out stepped the biggest buck I have ever seen in my life. My hands started to shake instantly. I stepped out of the truck and ranged him with my rangefinder.389 yards. I threw shell into the chamber and propped the gun up against the Apillar.

Normally this would have been a Chipshot. Not this day. Every time I put the gun on him I would shake uncontrollably. I never did shoot and to this day I am sick about it!

Anyone had a similar experience?

Ps. I exhausted lots of resources and time and never seen the deer again

7 or 8 years ago I was hunting from a stand about 1/2 way up a wooded mountain side. While glassing down the mountain side I saw a really nice 8 and was looking him over through binos. He was probably 200 yards away. Looking down the mountain from a stand tree limbs are everywhere and it's tough to find an open shot at any kinda range. I turned around in the stand and got set up to see if I could find an opening. When I got set, following him through the scope, in the corner of my fov I see another buck...the first one was nice, this one made him look puny. Never found an opening to squeeze a shot through as they eased through the woods. My Dad killed the first buck later in the season and another hunter killed the second...and he was every bit as big as he seemed.

Walking out at dark two years ago I saw a monster step out into an opening, pause for a minute, turn around, walk back into the thick slowly, and pause with his tail pointed towards me. I didn't start walking out until after dark and it had taken at least 20 minutes to get where I was so I knew legal hours were past. I couldn't count the points, but I could sure see the mass and height watching him through the scope.

I think about those two quite often....


Edited to add: I don't call these nightmares. Glad I got to see them.

There are a few events in my life that cause nightmares. None of them involve game.

Had a couple....one in AZ involving an elk,and another in Alberta on a whitetail buck. They were both once in a lifetime animals.On the elk I voluntarily judged the shot too risky; on the whitetail I was not at bat and the guy who was could not make a 250 yard shot.I had to watch that buck melt off, knowing I would never see the likes of him again.

So far, it sucks to be right.

About ten years ago, I opened the elk season with a new to me Ruger No. 1 in 9.3x74R. Opening morning, I found a decent 6x6 bull and dropped him at about 160+ yards with one shot using a 250 AccuBond. That freed me up to use the next four days looking at other areas that I was curious about.

The next afternoon, I was sitting above a seep in a canyon where no one had hunted in years. I always thought that it looked promising, but visibility was limited to looking straight up or down the canyon and I am not much of a sitter. An old, grown up logging road followed the contour of the winding canyon on the north side, about 90-100 yards upslope from the spring. It offered a relatively flat spot to sit my little three-legged stool and set up my tripod and spotting scope.

About half an hour before sundown, I happened to glance to my left and there were elk walking toward me. There were maybe 20-25 cows and a couple of small bulls that I could see. As they came to a small side canyon that led uphill to a bench behind me, they turned and moseyed into the cut. As the first few drifted up and out of sight, a bull screamed, so close that I almost jumped off of my stool. The elk at the back of the line were milling about a bit, and a huge 6x6 bull was working his way through the crowd.

He had genuine "whale tail" G5s and G6s that passed down his haunches as he bugled. He stopped in the middle of the old road and screamed again and again, as the rest of the group flowed by and up the side canyon. Helpless, without a rifle or a valid tag, all I could do was watch. I finally fumbled for my range finder and ranged him at 67 yards! As the last cow vanished, he followed, still bugling constantly, until I could hear him no more.

Never seen one on the hoof anywhere near that big, before or since. I still see him each fall when I am drifting off to sleep as elk season approaches.

Not a nightmare, but in the late 1980's took my stepson out pronghorn hunting. He'd killed a buck the year before, and now we were looking for a bigger one on a ranch where we had permission. We found what was the biggest buck I'd ever seen in a legal hunting area, and got within 300 yards. I knew my stepson wasn't up to the shot at that point, and we were lying there trying to figure out how to crawl closer when a pickup crested a rise about half a mile beyond the buck.

The buck immediately noticed, and when the pickup stopped the buck started to walk off. I probably could have killed the buck, but I wanted my stepson to be the one, and while I dithered the pickup backed up and the buck took off. Never saw him again.

It turned out later the pickup belonged to somebody who didn't have permission to hunt the ranch. Apparently he got nervous when he spotted us lying out there in the sagebrush.

I still haven't seen a pronghorn buck as large anywhere except a national park--and maybe not even then.

I'll show you a deer that still haunts me to this day. Sep 2013 my wife and I were driving thru the Texas hill country and I spotted the biggest Axis buck any of us will likely ever see. He was on a l/f ranch that was for sale at the time. That paticular part of the state is thick with Oak mottes and Cedar thickets that are easy to lose any animal in. My photos are not great quality but you can see what a tremendous
animal he really is.
After I finally was able to contact the land owner to ask about a possible hunt he informed me he wanted no hunting on his place and ensured me that he had no Axis anyway! I thanked him for his time and have never set foot on his place.
The buck was about 90 yards and broadside when I first photographed him but he moved off to about 140 yards before he paused with several other Axis before melting into the brush! Beautiful animal and I'm lucky to get to say I saw him with my own not so great eyes!! Later Folks, Baker

Buck fever can happen to anybody. I know a guy who put an arrow into the antler of a huge buck, because the rack was what he was looking at instead where he should have shot. The arrow was still there when he saw the buck a few days later, hanging on another hunter's meatpole - and is probably still in the antler, on a wall somewhere.

Elkhunter49 great story and pics.

The one that haunts me happened at a high school honors banquet. We were offered coffee or milk, and I was drinking a cup of coffee when I noticed the really pretty girl across the table had a great-looking glass of iced tea. I asked how she got tea when only milk and coffee were offered, and she said she had just asked for it. Then she looked me straight in the eye and said "You should always ask for what you want, Carl. You might get it."

Well, I was only 17. It did not occur to me until the next day that she might have been talking about more than iced tea.

Bahaha.Too funny.My wife bugs me about not being able to take a woman's hint.She says it's a miracle our kids were ever born.
Must confess,I am still a little thick headed

Passing up iffy shot as a budding archer in my early teens taught me a valuable lesson - don't beat yourself up later about a decision you were forced to make in the actual moment. Trust that in the moment, you evaluated the situation and made the right choice.

That policy has helped me shake off a lot of "what ifs?" over the years, but I can think of a couple that still play through my mind's eye like old movies.

One was when I was only about 16 or 17 and took place on the opening morning of firearms deer season. I heard, then turned to watch as a doe and buck came out of a thicket about a hundred yards away. The buck was obviously hot on the doe, but both seemed to pause when they left the thicket for the relatively open area. It was obvious that the buck was a very nice buck. The kind that you pay to hang on a wall. I recall very dark antlers, like they'd been rubbed with walnut wood stain. He was easily an 8 or possibly a 10 pointer and bigger than anything I had ever dreamed of tagging.

I was carrying a Winchester 1894 .30-30 with a 4x scope. This combo wouldn't zero at 100 yds for some reason, hitting about 6" high at 100 yds. My dad being from a pretty hardscrabble background where ammo was for killing, not practicing, considered this good enough. Knowing the rifle wasn't zeroed made me uneasy and screwed with my confidence, which probably contributed to what happened next.

I was turned around in my stump blind and facing the deer, who were unaware of me. I was watching the buck through the scope and when he stepped forward from behind a clump of birches, I panicked a bit and instead of planting the crosshairs where they should have been, I simply squeezed when the reticle was on center mass. The buck hunched, jumped upward and took off, never to be seen again.

We looked and looked for sign of a hit, but were unable to find anything but his tracks. No hair, blood, nothing.

I'd sure like to have another crack at that situation.

The next was another white tail buck that I saw while hunting with a co-worker on his family property. He set me up in a spot behind some standing poplars, sitting on a simple stool with no blind or cover.

Almost from the time I sat down for the evening hunt I thought I could hear something. I went back and forth in my head, one moment certain I could hear something moving slowly and stealthily, the next, certain it was nothing, when a very nice 8 pointer materialized in the tangle of briars, poplars and grape vines about 20-30 yards ahead.

I was able to raise my scoped 243 without spooking him and check him over and quickly realized that this was a no-brainer - he was going down if I could get a clear shot. At this time all I could see was his head and part of his neck. Since he was only a couple steps from a shooting lane, I didn't even consider trying a head or high neck shot. In hindsite I should have because as soon as he got his nose into that shooting lane, I swear he looked right, then left and bolted. He looked like a track star crossing a busy highway.

For an instant I was aware that my crosshairs were directly over the rear of his ribs, but not wanting to wound him with a gut shot, I held my fire and he was gone. It was only a few seconds later when I realized that since he was angling away from me, my bullet would have easily gotten forward into his rib cage, likely taking out his liver and at least one lung.

Another "dammit!" for me.

These 2 missed opportunities aren't nightmares and I don't let them get me down. I did what I thought was right at the time and that's all we can really do, but I'd sure like to have a couple hunting do-overs.

These lamentations of Big One's that got away are breaking my heart! I know the feeling,but I figure the stars have to align a bit to drop a one time animal.

Mostly they show up without advance billing, and sometimes I think it's best that way. The longer we have to dwell on them the greater the likelihood something will go wrong or we will over think a situation and blow it.

I notice an awful lot of big ones are shot by people not really looking for them,and mostly they don't have the foggiest clue what they've shot until the animal is dead.

The only Pronghorn I ever missed was the biggest one I've ever seen. The guide got me within 50 yds. of a real trophy, wide and long with huge mass, high 80's if not 90 class. He was with around 25 doe, so lots of eyes. We were on the water side of a tank (we call them ponds) and the only thing between me and that trophy was a rocky berm. I had my .240 HS/Hunters Edge and was using a Harris bipod. I shortened the bipod to min. and as I slipped up to shoot over the berm, the bipod got caught on some rocks. As I was fighting with the gun, I shot over the goat. He ran with the herd and stopped at around 300 yds. Normally that would be an easy shot with that gun. I was still fiddling with that bipod, was pretty upset by now and missed him again. The walk to the truck was tortue for me. The guide and my hunting bud showing me no mercy.

Later, I killed a lesser goat, still pretty good, offhand at 80 yds. A hundred times I've thought, why didn't I just fold that bipod and shoot that big goat offhand. It would have been an easier shot than the one I made.

Oh well...

DF

Was on a stand deep in the Okefenokee Swamp with my trusty M94. Just after dawn broke I saw a buck with an amazing rack standing broadside at about 30 yards. Reason I'd not seen him walk in was I'd just sat down from takin' a whiz in the opposite direction. He was almost smiling at me it looked like and I was sort of offended.

Pulled the rifle up real slow and was about to bust a cap when the biggest redsquatch I've ever seen leaped onto the buck from a tree. If you're not familiar with resquatches, they are like sasquatches, but are twice the size and wear bib overalls. Barefoot.

Anyway, he killed the buck, then turned to face me and giggled. Then he began to relieve himself in my general direction. It made me feel really contrite.

I had read somewhere that the M94 was noisy in the woods, that they rattled alot. Fella that used a Marlin 336 told me that, and said the rattlin' would scare a deer. He didn't say anything about redsquatches but I wasn't going to take a chance since it was chambered for the .30-30 and I knew it wouldn't hurt him if I shot. So I rattled the gun at him. He started laffin' and didn't stop. It was kinda weird, just kept laffin' more and more until he finally sort of vapor locked you know? I figured WTH, scare 'em or vapor lock 'em, it's all the same.

I made it back to my truck in just under 3 minutes. The truck was just over a mile away. None of my buddies believed that part of the story. Screw 'em, I didn't make any of this up.

It was a nightmare.

Glad you woke up from that one.

And you didn't have a .223AI/McFlame with VX3 6x42/M1 turret.

Coulda got yo self et up right there, holding that ole '94...

DF

Did he break his back landing on him, or did he have to grab the rack and twist his neck?

Same here...but quite a few involve shooting.....

I have nightmares every now and then about Iraq, but I never was in combat.

I missed the first deer Id ever shot at. 40 yards. Tops.