Home Forums Hunting & Shooting Hunter's Campfire Pics and stories of the worse weather you have hunted or fished in

Muskox hunt in Paulatuk, NWT 1988. You could watch the Arctic Ocean (Darnley Bay) freeze from the "comfort" of our tent. We were socked in that thing for three days before the weather cleared and we could get out. Easily the coldest I have been in my life. Damn good thing I was 26, I couldn't take that anymore.

Mike

Quite a number of times but not many photos.

Don't remember the exact year, but probably about 25 years ago me and my best friend and hunting partner packed back into the Buford area in Colorado. It started snowing when we first arrived at the trailhead and the snow didn't stop for three days. This was back when we were young and dumb - we took a couple of young green broke horses, loaded them up with all of our gear and then lead them miles back into the mountains. Back then we had a small nylon two man tent, and we used a lantern for heat -we were 'roughing it' and only took neccessities. Yes I'll always remember that hunting season, that was the year I forgot my sleeping bag and all I had to sleep on was a couple of wet saddle blankets. On the second day several people came past our camp and told us we better get off the mountain as it was fixing to get really bad. We hunted for two days in a blizzard and didn't see a damn thing. It got so cold at night that even with all the clothes I could put on, I shivered and shook all night long like a dog [bleep]' peach pits. I was afraid to go to sleep thinking I would freeze to death in my sleep. In the mornings our leather boots were frozen stiff, and we had to hold them one at a time over the lantern to thaw them out enough we could put them on our feet. Don't know how cold it got that year as neither of us had a thermometer but I don't ever remember being so cold in all my life. On that third morning when we stepped out of our tent, the snow was crotch deep and still coming down so hard we couldn't see 50 yards, we decided we better pack it in and head out before it got any deeper. We took turns breaking trail leading our two horses and by the time we got off that mountain and made it to the truck, the snow was up to our horses chests. It took us several hours to dig out our truck and trailer and while we were doing that we watched as several helicopters were busy air lifting hunters that got stranded and couldn't make it out. Don't think we got any pictures that year, if I remember correctly it was so cold our camera wouldn't work. Needless to say, we got a whole lot smarter after that hunting season.

this is it, WHITE OUT

color it grey and you get the year the Siberian Steamroller came through and I spent nine days in a Kelty Windfoil with another hombre. that was miserable, pretty sad when you're on a hunt and you get excited cause you're about to run out of food so you can get the F outa there.

we left none too soon or we'd have been stranded as all the water that came down swoll up the rivers and washed a couple of bridges out on the haul road

I don't know about "Worse"

...I was younger, and it was all just weather

Two stories come to mind. We were on the white river about 4 miles from where we were to take out in alum. canoes when the tornado sirems started sounding. 4 miles in an electrical storm is a looong ways.

I also had a chance for a caribou hunt in northern quebec in late September. We never saw 40 degrees and had frozen pipes most of teh week. Worst was a day of 35-38 degrees and 25 mph wind in the rain. now place to hide from the wind. Absolutely a trip of a life time from a scenery and experieince perspective. Shot my bulls the last 2 hours of a 7 day hunt. I could have come home with no kill and would have had one of the best 7 days of my life. The weather was still rough.

No digital pics, but the worse weather by a good stretch was a buddy and I taking advantage of a snow day in high school and about ten acres of unpicked corn. It was the winter of 1996-97 and if you were in MN, SD, ND, or IA you'll know what I'm talking about. It was another -30 temp day, wind blowing in the 25-30 mph sustained range, severe wind chills obviously. Us two morons decided that there would be deer bedded in the cornfield that his cousin hadn't gotten to pick. We grabbed our bows, dressed in our warmest clothing, and had our pick of a couple dozen deer in the cornfield. They never spooked out, didn't want to leave their beds. I shot a decent 4x4 at 10 yds, he shot a big 3x3. I gutted them out and the inside of a deer has never felt so warm...we couldn't drive up to them and the pressure from dragging pushed us through the drifts and put us in past our hips. We drove back to town, he fired us the sled and drove the 15 miles to the field to drag them out to the Suburban. We've never been quite so cold or stupid, but we've never had easier shots at deer either.

great pic Greg, used to use that phrase alot, "it's just weather, my pay grade ain't high enough to change it, so we just hunt in it"

but dang there were days it sure didn't make much sense to do so!

We go out in a lot of fierce weather. Oddly enough, it's my favorite condition for hunting--ugly, that is.













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Pics don't do the weather justice from that day, but a gust almost flipped me *end over end* in a 16' jonboat when my nose lifted up on a whitecap.







On the day I killed that bull, winds at Mt. Washington, less than 20 miles away, registered 114 mph, with sustained winds of 100. It was INSANE out there. The woods were exploding around us. It was the 2nd to last day of the hunt, and I'd been at it for 90 hours. There was no way I was sitting that day out. It was FIERCE out there. On that day Mrs. KG really proved herself to be a wee juggernaut. Never once did she complain. My sub-permittee quit the day before, having run out of steam and mettle. Those who dare...

Good times.

A couple vids. Click image.







Nor'Easter in a North Shore marsh, -15 F, Little Bay NH, -10 Merrimack River

goat hunting in alaska. fog so thick we didn't move on the mtn for 3 days.

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I have a few pics somewhere of us coming back from tuna fishing in some sporty seas (read as like 12'-15') in a 25' Grady, after losing one of the two screws. Got kicked in the teeth on that ride.

Also, Chatham is notorious for its fog. Has been for centuries. The term used when it's bad is 'pea soup'. Problem is, it can be glassy, sunny and not a cloud in the sky and goes to ZERO visibility in the time it takes to make a few casts. We've been out in conditions where we'd no choice but to shut down and blare the horn every 30 seconds. Not enough rode to get on the hook in places in 3-400'. We run radar so you've got that, but the last time it happened the Furuno had a problem and we were running blind, near shipping lanes. Now THAT shyt is creepy...

Hunting:

I grew up in WI, hunting cold or snowy weather was just the way it was. Two memorable events - the first, a season when I was a young man and learned the hard way, one of woes of carrying a pump-action rifle. When the slides are welded in place with a crust of ice - you can't chamber a round when you need to, and will stand helpless as your buck walks bye. The second, when your jon boat gets on top of the ice flow while drifting down river to an area you were about to hunt - you won't be hunting there. In fact if you probably won't be hunting at all because your options are few, and none of 'em are good. I opted to wait for a shallower stretch of river ('bout waist deep) before bailing out to free the boat.
I'd already floated bye the intended landing, and it was a couple cold, shivering, miserable hours to the takeout point.

Fishing:

Hands down, Lake Michigan when it's angry. (now that I'm in TX, I don't challenge the BIG, salt-puddle when it's nasty out).

No pics, but the worst weather fishing was during a the Rogers City Salmon Tournament in about 2001 or so. I and a few other guys were on my bosses' 24' Starcraft Islander, fishing out of Hammond Bay on Lake Huron. The usual pre-dawn start of fishing time was delayed by a fantastic Great Lakes thunderstorm. Big boomers and spectacular lightning flashes-serious storm.

It finally abated shortly after sunrise and the party began. We fished the rough water conditions for a couple hours or so and then the wind, waves and rain hit us. Over the radio we could hear the announcement that the tournament had been suspended and all boats were advised to seek shelter. Before we could head in to the harbor we were hammered with driving rain and even higher winds that whipped the waves up to 10-12' breakers. My boss was driving and I was standing up on the foot rungs of the passenger seat and trying to keep the flexible vinyl windshield extensions snapped into place, but I was fighting a mostly losing battle against the horizontally driven rain.

We were only able to make about 6 knots and because of where safe harbor was located we had to drive more-or-less into the teeth of the storm. There were times when I looked out over the bow of the boat as we crested a wave and it seemed as if I was looking nearly straight down 20 feet or more into the trough between the wave we were on and the next wave. I was lucky, at least I could see what was going on, the guys behind me couldn't see anything and could only hold on and try to stay dry.

I don't ever recall being really scared. I love the energy of a storm and my boss didn't show any nervousness, so I was actually sort of enjoying things. It wasn't until my boss asked me to stop the whooping and hollering because it was scaring the other guys that I began to realize that things were more than a little serious.

We made it through obviously and my boss has since upgraded to a much larger boat.

Bitter cold can get ya', but it takes a bit. An angry sea, well, "bye".

I've healthy respect for what nature can do.

The worst I remember hunting was during an antlerless season when High Brass was 14 or 15. The wind came up and was gusting so hard large branches were breaking off and flying around. I got him off that mountain as fast as I could praying for his protection the whole time.

I've boated and fished all five of the Great Lakes, and they each have their own personality. Superior is like the ocean, Lake Michigan a washing machine. Erie has mood swings like a woman.
Lake Huron has more wreckage on its bottom than the other four combined, and I contributed in my youth with an old 25' wooden launch while fishing its North Channel. I spent a cold night on a rock big enough to keep most off me out of the churning, and was luckily found in a state of mild hypothermia the next morning.
I still fish there annually.

A pic of Erie, during Sandy.

I duck hunted in a 50+ knot blow and came home to a mess. The top half of a neighbor's tree from their back yard launched half way over my house flattening two Mustangs and damaging a Four Runner in the front yard. The car port with my motorcycle and a kayak were squashed also. Total of about $50k, my insurance had to pay since the tree was in good health. Only one duck was flying that day.