Crap Creek

[1911]

Anyone ever had any outdoor adventures that they thought might turn a little western? I very recently was out doing some trail blazing in an area I was not too familiar with. Even though I never felt lost per se, there was more than one time I thought I was going to be spending the night when it had not been part of the initial plan. It was the first time in the back woods that I was glad to have been packing the extra weight of water, clothing, food, and other supplies, most of which normally go untouched in my pack. Had my flashlight given out, it would have turned into an over nighter for sure. I was bush whacking down a normally dry creek bed with water up to my knees in a jungle of a mess the viet cong would have been proud to call home. Never been so happy to see my truck when I made it out.

 

[nickman]

Like the man said....."I ain't never been lost. I have been fearsome confused for several days"

Glad it all worked out for you.

It would be boring if there weren't the occasional adrenaline rush once in awhile. Keeps you humble. You can't get it ALL from the job.

"If God did not intend for man to hunt animals, he would have made broccoli more fun to shoot"

 

[foundation]

Crap creek , oh ya I have visited that place more times than I should .

A few years ago me and a buddy are huntin lions out by the Utah / Nevada border . With the wind chill its -30 and just miserable . We haven't seen another vehicle for a long time as we are driving back home . We are about 30 miles from Wendover when his truck decides its not going to run any more . It was newer ride and a gas motor and there was nothing we could figure out why it died .

No cell service and with few options we figured we would just flip a coin and see who had to ride the wheeler to Wendover and call for help . Unloading the wheeler when all of a sudden we see this flashing yellow light that is slowly making its way to us . Probably the oldest snow plow in service happens to drive up and a super nice guy offers us a ride to town . The ride in that truck was a adventure in its self , but it was tons better than the thought of using a four wheeler .

After ordering up a tow truck my buddy runs over to the casino while I'm waiting . A single cab flat bed tow truck pulls up and I explain whats going on . The tow dude tells me he will be right back . He went and got his girl friend and boy did she ever fill up more than her half of that seat . So we have no choice riding back to the broke down truck , all four of us on that front seat . My buddy is having to sit on my lap and we are just miserable .

We decide there is no way we are all squezzin back in the tow truck . We decide to ride in the broken down truck cab as its on top of the flatbed . We put every stitch of clothes we had on , and let all the hounds in the cab . That was a long cold ride from wendover to tooele .

I'll remember that little adventure for a long time .

 

[fireball77]

Just happy to see your truck hmmmmmm !!! ;-)

 

[dingo]

Been there a few times myself.

My Dad and I were hunting elk in Idaho one year. Had a northern comming in. Leaves were comming off the trees and the elk were active. Things were looking good. There was a bowl I had hunted many times before that held a herd but the wind was wrong to approach it from the bottom. I came up with the brilliant idea to hunt up a ridge to the south, then swing around and drop in from the top. The loop would take all day of hard hunting and should have totaled about 8-10 miles. But it would give us a good chance to get into some elk.

We loaded up our packs in the morning and headed out. We started cutting sign right away. Lots of wallows and tracks. We hit the top of the ridge just past 1:00. We split up about 100 yards apart and slowly slipped into the bowl. We jumped the herd about 30 minutes later and I heard Dads .270 start barking. That is a sweet sound in the hills. He knocked down a bull at about 350yds....in the bottom. I was really excited for him. We worked our way down to where he was and we dressed it out and got it hung up. We loaded up our packs with the good stuff and headed for our spike camp. We were treated to an amazing sunset just as we were headed out. So far, so good.

The plan was to contour the basin to the south and pick up a game trail I knew of above the outlet. The other side of the basin was a rock face and pretty much impassable. To go back the way we had just came was out of the question because of the distance. This basin had a lot of draws carved out to the south side and was about 1200 yards across and required a 400 ft. verticle gain in elevation from where we were to reach the trail. To stay low and follow the bottom out would have put us into some steep bluffs. We had to gain elevation to get out. There was a strip of old growth timber that was about 400 yards across on a really steep incline that we had to contour through but that was no big deal as I had hunted through there in years past.

I could tell Dad was getting a little worn out. The adrenaline rush was wearing off along with lunch. We were getting low on water but I knew of a spring along the trail where we could refill. We were contouring and approaching a little ridge that would take us to the stand of old growth. When I broke over the top, I was stunned. There in the moonlight was a jumble of silver colored trees that looked like giant sized pick-up sticks. Dad was behind me and asked me how much farther to the trail. He needed water and was starting to cramp up. I just gave him a reassuring "Not much farther now, only about 400 yards." Apparently there had been a slide the previous winter....those things don't show up on the topo. When he caught up to me, he looked across those deadfalls and said, "We have to go through that?" I pointed to a tall ponderosa that had a forked crotch and said that is where we were headed.

I honestly didn't know if we were going to get out of that mess. Midway through we finished off the last of the water and I split our last apple. I fudged and gave him the bigger piece. We each had a couple of butterscotch discs to suck on and that was about it. We could always get a fire going, cook up some meat, and stay out overnight but we were both worried about leaving the horses out unattended.

After what seemed like hours of crawling over and ducking under countless deadfalls we finally stopped to take a long breather.
We just sat in the middle of that pile of jumbled timber watching the clouds blowing in overhead, backlit by the moonlight. Dad announced that he couldn't go any further. If he didn't make it I should lay him over a windfall so it would be easier to pack him out on the horse. I told him that we were both walking out of there together. I took the sling off my gun and tied it on the back of my pack so he could hold on. I had both rifles. I told him that we had to get to that forked ponderosa. It had an empty tin can of tree-top brand apple juice that someone had left there many years earlier and the tree had grown around half the can. There was a spring about 50 yards past it where we could pump fresh water and it was all downhill from there to our camp. He told me to lead the way and the two of us continued to haul our way up and out of there.

That last 75 yards was a bear. You could stand plumb and reach out and touch the hillside. We finally cleared the timber just a steep pitch was all that was left. I literally pulled him up through the ferns to that tree. There in the crotch was that little can. Dad just looked at it in disbelief. He couldn't believe that I could find that place in the dark in the middle of nowhere. "Good job, son. I think we just might make it out of here yet." Just seeing that stupid little can gave both of us renewed energy. We hiked a little way to the spring and I got out the MSR waterworks and filtered some water. That water tasted like liquid gold.

When we got back to the tent it was about 2:00am. That white wall tent never looked so good. I gave the horses a whistle and got a couple of flakes of hay and a double shot of sweet feed for them. Dad opened a can of peaches, got some tenderloins going along with some fried potatoes left over from breakfast. Then we had a well deserved hunters dinner. Looking back, I wouldn't trade that day for anything.

 

[bucklover]

Great story. You could put that into print, and should at least copy this one and hand it out for current and future family members. Thanks for sharing.

 

[caelkhnter]

Dingo

Great Story! Thanks for sharing.

 

[Calif_Mike]

Good stories so far. Nothing too amazing from me but a couple of Oh S momments.

One suumer backpacking for three days with my cousin into a wilderness area. It started to rain the first nite in. Ended up spending 3 days in a little two man tent with water running through the middle. Ended up walking out in completely fogged in conditions the last day, wet and cold.

I spent three seasons fighting forest fires. We were choppered into a wilderness fire and spent 24 hours on the fire when we got word there wouldn't be a chopper ride out. we carried all of our gear out on our backs, walking for about 12 hours.

 

[HunterHarry]

LAST EDITED ON Oct-28-11 AT 12:15PM (MST)[p]About ten years ago I was bear hunting with a buddy and his hounds.
We got off work that afternoon, loaded up and headed out arriving in the mountains late that evening.
It was mid winter and had just started to rain as we entered the mountains in his dog box Toyota.

We were about half way to an area that was known to hold a real big bear, the roads were getting sloppy and the creeks were rising.
We had to cross the main creek which was getting more "river like" by the minute.
My buddy exclaims "Hell, I can make that"...."Hang On".
He revvs up the Yota and charges across.
About halfway across I feel the force of the 'river" pushing us sideways.

Suddenly he grabs traction and we charge out of the river much to my relief.

We were both exhausted from our long days at work and park up on the big ridge above to catch a few ZZZZ's.
We would wake in the morn and look for the big tracked bear in hopes of a good run with the hounds.

The sound of pelting rain had me asleep in no time regardless of the cramped sleeping conditions.

It continued pouring rain ALL NIGHT LONG.

We woke at first light to the continued down pour and the realization that our road was blocked by many downed trees.

Still it continues to pour.

Finally we just throw in the towel.

The roads are so damn sloppy, trees are down about every hundred yards and it just sucks for hound hunting.
After about a half hour later we arrive back at the main creek crossing.
By now this thing is just boiling brown and BIG.
Still, my buddy (who don't know the meaning of "I CAN'T ") says "I still think we can make it".

Again, he revvs up the engine and off we go.

We get half way across and suddenly the force of the river is pushing the lil pickup filled with hounds sideways, The headlights are underwater in an eerie brown illumination of this brown boiling mess and water is boiling OVER MY WINDOW LIKE A FISH TANK!


HOLY CHIT!

Just then the engine sucks water and dies.

This is about 6:30 am, it is still raining and we are dead in the water with a bunch of hounds in back.
The truck is inching it's way downstream and we are freaking out.

NOT GOOD.

Quickly my buddy yells "GET OUT!" and urgently reminds me to crawl out HIS window, not mine.

I get out into the freezing cold water and frantically make my way to the tailgate and push as he jams the tranny into low range.
By turning the key without stepping on the clutch and me pushing for all my worth, we were able to "chug" forward onto the opposite back to safety.

Still the truck wouldn't start and I was soaking wet to the skin with an uncontrollable case of the shakes.

My buddy climbs into his tool box and gets some aerosol starting fluid, pops the hood and sprays some down the carburetor as I turn the key.

Nothing.

We try again.
Nothing.

Finally with the battery on it's final attempt before it dies, the engine sputters to life.

We crank the heater full blast and limp home wounded, but alive.

That was one trip I'll never forget.

 

[grizzmoose]

I wasn't lost at all during my little experience. In fact, I could see my house from where I was. I was up on top of Spanish Fork Peak after hiking straight up for 4-5 hours. About half way up I realized I forgot my cell phone in the car and there was no way I was going down to get it. I had been watching a buck up there for a while and really wanted a shot at him. When I was at the spot I wanted to be in, I set up and glassed for quite a while. I wasnt planning on being up there as long as I was, but I just KNEW that bugger was sitting around close to me. About an hour before dark, I decided to move up just a bit to get a new vantage point. Right when I stood up, the buck jumped about 75 yards away from me. I got caught with my gun on my shoulder and had no chance. Thinking I could move up and maybe spot him again, I headed up a bit further. No luck. The sun had dipped below the horizon and it was time to go back down. That's when I realized my flashlight had fallen out of my pack sometime when I was setting up earlier. After searching several minutes where I was earlier, I couldnt find it and it was really dark out. I was getting a bit nervous knowing I was going down some steep terrain with no light and no phone. I decided to go down a different direction and soon found it to be a bad choice. I was in some snow which covered lots of fallen timber and plenty of great places for a foot to get stuck and balance to be lost. I ended up making it down ok after a couple hours, but I couldnt help but think how screwed I would have been should I have twisted an ankle or broken my leg. It would have been a long, cold night and I was in no place that I would have been easily spotted. The wife was not happy when I finally called at like 11pm. LOTS of missed calls on my phone.

 

[grizzmoose]

>LAST EDITED ON Oct-28-11
>AT 12:15?PM (MST)
>
>About ten years ago I was
>bear hunting with a buddy
>and his hounds.
>We got off work that afternoon,
>loaded up and headed out
>arriving in the mountains late
>that evening.
>It was mid winter and had
>just started to rain as
>we entered the mountains in
>his dog box Toyota.
>
>We were about half way to
>an area that was known
>to hold a real big
>bear, the roads were getting
>sloppy and the creeks were
>rising.
>We had to cross the main
>creek which was getting more
>"river like" by the minute.
>
>My buddy exclaims "Hell, I can
>make that"...."Hang On".
>He revvs up the Yota and
>charges across.
>About halfway across I feel the
>force of the 'river" pushing
>us sideways.
>

>
>Suddenly he grabs traction and we
>charge out of the river
>much to my relief.
>
>We were both exhausted from our
>long days at work and
>park up on the big
>ridge above to catch a
>few ZZZZ's.
>We would wake in the morn
>and look for the big
>tracked bear in hopes of
>a good run with the
>hounds.
>
>The sound of pelting rain had
>me asleep in no time
>regardless of the cramped sleeping
>conditions.
>
>It continued pouring rain ALL NIGHT
>LONG.
>
>We woke at first light to
>the continued down pour and
>the realization that our road
>was blocked by many downed
>trees.
>
>Still it continues to pour.
>
>Finally we just throw in the
>towel.
>
>The roads are so damn sloppy,
>trees are down about every
>hundred yards and it just
>sucks for hound hunting.
>After about a half hour later
>we arrive back at the
>main creek crossing.
>By now this thing is just
>boiling brown and BIG.
>Still, my buddy (who don't know
>the meaning of "I CAN'T
>") says "I still think
>we can make it".
>
>Again, he revvs up the engine
>and off we go.
>
>We get half way across and
>suddenly the force of the
>river is pushing the lil
>pickup filled with hounds sideways,
>The headlights are underwater in
>an eerie brown illumination of
>this brown boiling mess and
>water is boiling OVER MY
>WINDOW LIKE A FISH TANK!
>
>
>
>HOLY CHIT!
>
>

>
>
>Just then the engine sucks water
>and dies.
>
>This is about 6:30 am, it
>is still raining and we
>are dead in the water
>with a bunch of hounds
>in back.
>The truck is inching it's way
>downstream and we are freaking
>out.
>
>NOT GOOD.
>
>Quickly my buddy yells "GET OUT!"
>and urgently reminds me to
>crawl out HIS window, not
>mine.
>
>I get out into the freezing
>cold water and frantically make
>my way to the tailgate
>and push as he jams
>the tranny into low range.
>
>By turning the key without stepping
>on the clutch and me
>pushing for all my worth,
>we were able to "chug"
>forward onto the opposite back
>to safety.
>
>Still the truck wouldn't start and
>I was soaking wet to
>the skin with an uncontrollable
>case of the shakes.
>
>My buddy climbs into his tool
>box and gets some aerosol
>starting fluid, pops the hood
>and sprays some down the
>carburetor as I turn the
>key.
>
>Nothing.
>
>We try again.
>Nothing.
>
>Finally with the battery on it's
>final attempt before it dies,
>the engine sputters to life.
>
>
>We crank the heater full blast
>and limp home wounded, but
>alive.
>
>That was one trip I'll never
>forget.

Dang Harry, that is some scary stuff!

 

[predator]

Grizz, I had a similar experience, only I did break some stuff.

I was in some dicey country (ledges) working in on a buck I had watched all summer. I literally tripped over a small scrub oak and began to cartwheel downslope. I tried to protect my head because I knew below me was a 40 foot cliff. I figured I was finally going to die in one of my favorite places, and no one would even know.

I slammed into a small pine backfirst (thank God for having a full Camelback, it probably saved my spine), which spun me around to going downhill feet first.

I saw my heels going over the edge and thought "This is it, this is the last thing you are ever going to see". I shut my eyes and expected a long drop with bad things at the end.

I was quite surprised to have a short drop and the sound of breaking tree limbs. I had landed in a scrub oak on a 3 foot wide ledge just above the big cliff. Without the pine tree, I probably would have just kept cartwheeling right over this ledge and kept going.

I was full of adrenaline. I knew that I was probably hurt, but not sure how bad. What I did know was that I did not have cell service in this hellhole, and I had only a few hours to try to get where I did.

My first clue was when I went to pull myself up and found my right arm not working right. Then I put weight on my right knee and it bent like a rubber band. In the meantime, my left eye was swelling shut. I touched everything and found no blood, but I knew I was messed up nonetheless.

I found that I could go uphill not too badly, but not down. Down to the canyon bottom was shorter than climbing back out, but down also meant going out in a creek, and the thought of getting wet and going into shock scared me. I found one hiking pole still attached to my pack, so I broke that out and began to pull myself around the ledge and up the small drop. Then I just focused on 10 steps at a time.

It was going pretty well, and I had deluded myself into thinking I could get myself up and out. So I kept going. I was incredibly thirsty and was going through my water damn fast. I finally got enough bars to make a call, and thankfully it was sooner than I expected. I called my Dad first and told him I was going to be really late getting out. Then I called a friend and told him I was broke up but moving, but might need some water soon. He asked if we shouldn't be calling for a rescue, and I told him 'hell no'.

He could tell my head was making me stupid, and did the right thing by calling Search and Rescue. My dad was calling every 15 mins to check on progress, then a deputy called. I am embarrassed to say that I was more than a rude person to him. We had several phones calls where I argued about whether or not to accept help. I negotiated being allowed to at least get out of the hellhole if I could and to a ridgeline.

I had to admit I was completely done in by then. Everything hurt, and nothing was making sense. I gave him my GPS coords and within minutes a helicopter was above me. The pilot did an amazing job of touching down on a car-sized rock and just holding the bird there while the medics came down to me. One grabbed my arm, and I again was not so nice about telling him it was 'f'ed up, let go'.

I was flown to a waiting ambulance and spent the better part of the night in the ER. My arm was broken, my shoulder separate, and my knee partially torn. My face was amazingly not broken, but it sure looked like someone had taken a 2X4 to it!

My rangefinder is still up there somewhere. Someday I might go looking for it, but each time I've tried, I get a little sick to my stomach. I was incredibly lucky!

 

[Farms]

Not lost but still a good story.

My 2nd year elk hunting. With about 20 minutes of shooting light left, a herd came into a meadow we were watching. My dad and I both had cow tags and he wanted me to shoot first. I was shaking so bad that I could not get the shot off. He shot and dropped a cow, couple seconds later I fired a round at the lead cow running and ended up shooting her in the guts. Stupid thing #1

We gut my dad's cow and decide to go look for my cow. It was now dark with about 15" of snow. Easy tracking! We get to where she entered the trees and decide to go in 100 yards. We would come back the next morning if she was not in that 100 yards. We decide to just take our packs and leave the guns as it is some thick jack pine. Stupid thing #2

So we get about 75 yards in this thick crap and start hearing something. We stay in the same spot a couple minutes and it gets louder and louder. The noise was coming from every direction. A couple minutes later my dad catches eyes in his mini-mag flashlight. "Coyote" he says, "wait 2", "no 3". "I see 2 on my side" I answer back. They were all within 10 to 15 feet at this point. Ended up a total of 7.

I will always remember the next thing my dad said. "I think we're screwed" he says. So here we are standing in 15" of snow, right on top of the blood trail, pitch black, smelling like blood and elk from cleaning his cow, with no guns. My dad tells me to get my 2 knives out of my pack. I did. Then he tells me to put my mini-mag light in my mouth and put one knife in each hand. I did. Then he said that he will lead the way out, and we would walk out back to back. If anything touches you, start stabbing it with both knives.

We got to the park with no problems, grabbed the guns and got the heck out of there. Went back the next morning and found the cow 50 yards from where we were the night before with the entire rear end ate out of here.

I was 16 at the time and that was the first time I ever saw my dad scared.

 

[justr_86]

Monday night of the deer hunt this year my brother and I were doing a short walk through a honey hole. I told him to go sit in the bottom in the clearing so I could push through the pines. He makes it about 30 yards from me and I see a nice buck headed up through the pines. I stop him, turn around and run to the top to try to turn the buck towards him. I shot my buck sunday night so I didn't have my gun, I left my pistol home. All I had were my clothes. I'm picking my way through the pines, top down and across. I'm on a pretty good elk trail so I'm moving pretty fast and quiet. There's 2 huge pine trees that had fallen down about ten feet apart, they are about 4 feet off the ground. Just as I go to climb over ther first one a bear stands up behind the other and starts chomping its teeth. I get 2 steps backwards and it starts over the log at me. I turn downhill and run and jump as fast as I can. I cover 300 yards faster than I could ever imagine! As I'm running I yell Chit! Rick! I can hear it behind me for 100 or so yards and am waiting for it to hit me.... I make it out the clearing in the bottom and meet up with rick, and his rifle! He never saw the bear but could see I was very shaken.. My stomach was in my throat for about 3 hours afterward, I puked when I got back to the truck... I will never walk without my 40 atleast from now on...

 

[HunterHarry]

I had one snapping it's teeth at me from about 10 feet as I was coming off a mountain one time in the dark.
That's a pants chitting experience when you're not expecting it.

 

[justr_86]

If it wouldn't have charged I wouldn't have run...

 

[Longun]

experiences like the above mention is what makes huntin' so fun!!!...guess thats why I'm getting burned out on it...the odds of near escapes or tragedies are catching up with me..
2 Golden Rules...always pack a gun...always pack a GPS with spare batteries..

 

[just_a_hunter]

Utah Muzzleloader season 2005? Lasal Mountains?

The last day I had to hunt?

The day started off awesome. The front that moved in had the deer up and moving and was providing stiff but steady wind. There is this area I like to hunt that has two long running parallel ridges separated by a creek that start off in the oak brush then go up through the aspens and end up in the dark timber just below the slide rock. The special part about these ridges is there are no roads on the upper three fourths of the ridges, which anybody that knows the Lasal?s knows this in itself is pretty rare. Anyhow, if a fella starts out in the morning hunting up one ridge, about the time you hit the slide rock the wind will shift and you can spend the rest of the day working down the other back to the truck. Its a couple miles up and a few miles down but usually great hunting.

I make my way up the first ridge seeing lots of deer and yearling bucks but nothing worth packing out of there. I hit the slide rock and start off the ridge top to cross the canyon to get to the other. When I made it to the creek the wind was still swirling pretty heavy and I figure I better sit here and wait for the thermals to finish switching. It was about 11:00am. I was sitting in a game trail on a sluff that drops down out of the dark timber hill side. At the top of the sluff the terrain levels out for 30 or so feet and then turns to the steep hill that will reach the top of the ridge I just hunted.

I was sitting there, enjoying the trickle of the creek, mowing down the 2nd of the two Nature Valley peanut butter granola bars when I hear this ?SNAP? of a stick breaking to my right. I look up and just barely on top of the sluff, I could see the top of a chocolate bear head and two chocolate bear ears directly down wind of me. Once again, anybody that has spent much time on the Lasal?s has had a bear or two walk up on them. No big deal, right?

So I set my water bottle down and stuff the granola foil in my pocket, grab my front stuffer and stand up to shoo the bear off. I stand up and of course the bear starts doing the ol? beady eyed bear head sway, figure out what's in front of me look. Still no big deal and nothing I hadn't dealt with before, but apparently the whispered words of ?hey bear? with a shooing motion is offensive to some bears cause this one got down right pissed!

A whispered ?hey bear? turned into a yelled ?HEY BEAR!!!!? along with a lot more frantic gestured shooing motion. That did absolutely nothing to calm this thing because that's when the teeth popping, eye squinting, ground stomping and ?whoofing? sounds started. So I shouldered my fifty cal at this point, took the safety off and threw my hat at him. If you want to take a bear from semi pissed to really pissed, point a gun at it, yell at it, hit it with a hat and scream in its face, ?ONE MORE STEP AND I?M GONNA KILL YOU!!!!!?

It took that ?one more step? that put him right directly up hill and on the edge of the sluff from me. I quickly put the front sight on its nose and hit the trigger then lost sight of the bear through the smoke and didn't know whether or not I hit him, killed him, grazed him or just threw a bunch of smoke. I jumped down off the sluff to the small grassy creek bottom and 100% out of instinct and fear, during my jump I had grabbed my rifle by the barrel and swung it with all my might just knowing that bear was on my azz. Luckily I hit nothing but air and the bear was limp rolling down the sluff and came to a rest in the same grassy creek bottom just a couple feet from my feet.

Needless to say, the rest of my day was spent getting with the game warden and taking care of the bear mess. That's a whole other story in itself but I will say it was a good experience. The game warden done a very meticulous investigation and I won't get into much of this, just touch on a few things. The bear was 11 paces up the sluff from where I shot but at a distance of no more then 3 yards.

I didn't so much as touch the bear. I left the scene alone. And circled wide around it because I knew the game warden would do an investigation. When we got back to the vehicles pretty close to dark and when we did I asked the warden, ?So am I going to have to go to court or anything?? He said ?Nope, that's justifiable self defense if I've ever seen it.?

I remember it like it was yesterday and thats the first time I have ever really feared for my life and well being.. Well that and every time I get on an airplane...

Todd

 

[justr_86]

Great story todd! Scary, very well written.

My dad walked into a sow, 2 cubs and another yearling not too far from where I was chased. He was nervous as hell but from what he described its the bear that chased me. Now I know the reason why!.....

 

[just_a_hunter]

Yea justr, I was right there with ya man. Except I had nowhere to go. He'd a had me in one pounce if I tried to run. I never heard the official results but the warden figured the one I tussled with was a 3 year old male.

 

[feddoc]

LAST EDITED ON Oct-29-11 AT 08:21PM (MST)[p]LAST EDITED ON Oct-29-11 AT 08:18?PM (MST)

Fall of 1998 I had surgery on my ankle..pins, plate, screws, crutches. Recovery almost got in the way of Elk season. Anyway, I knew I wouldn't be able to walk much, so my buddies put my fat butt on an ATV and drove me down to a likely funnel spot, then went away to make a drive towards me.

There I am, sitting on a stump and wishing I was a bit more mobile. Deer, birds, squirrels and a snowshoe hare was all I saw. Until....the woods got quiet about an hour after they left, so I figured some elk were headed my way. I started scanning with my eyes, then turning my head until I saw her. A sow standing up on her hind legs sniffing the wind and (probably) thinking 'there sits a slow, fat white boy and I am getting ready for hibernation. Hmmm, lunchtime.' Just as I raised my .300, she took off.


Fall of 1991 I was hunting near my camp and decided to get in the truck and drive to camp and call it an early night. As I come into a clearing, two cows come charging out of the trees about 75 yards away. One shot with my .300 and I hear the shot hit, then hear her hit the ground. Great, I thought, don't even have to haul her anywhere. I get back in the truck and start to drive over there only to look up andsee her run back in the trees...crap. I drive over to where they went back in and find where she laid down; there is a blood in the snow the size of a 3' circle and I thought that after waiting about 30 minutes I would just walk in the trees and find her dead. So, I smoke a victory cigar, then grab a flashlight and my .338 since it had a low power scope on it and start following her tracks. Once I hit the tree line, there were so many elk tracks that if she wouldn't have been bleeding so much, I could not have figured out which tracks to follow. I assumpted that the two cows were the lead for about 80-100 head of elk.

It was dark by the time I got into the timber, so I just kept on going. And going. I would see her once in awhile, but never long enough to get a clear shot...kinda tough to hold a flashlight and a pre-64 and try to get a clear sight picture.

It was now about 1930 hours and I thought that surely my buddies would be looking for me...wouldn't they? Just to make sure they could at least find my frozen azz, I started laying small trees down everytime I crossed a road, which turned out to help them find me. Each of us had my BILs farm radios, and, unkowingly they had been talking about how I couldn't be found. My mom was 78 at the time and was listening on a base station so she got a little freaked out.

To shorten the story, they figured out where I was headed and drove the logging roads where they eventually found my trees laid across the road. Knowing the area as they did, they guessed as to where the cow was headed and tried to get ahead of me, which they did. I found her sitting down with her head up about 2100 and put a 250 grain Barnes into her neck. It was 2300 before I heard the horns. Once we got back to camp and hung her, I looked at the thermometer which read -11.


Compromise, hell! ... If freedom is right and tyranny is wrong, why should those who believe in freedom treat it as if it were a roll of bologna to be bartered a slice at a time?

 

[bucklover]

A friend and I were hunting deer up on the back side of Hoback some years back. The night before the opener we were spotting, checking out a few bucks, from a distance. We saw what looked to be several decent bucks. We then spotted a sow with twins. The twins were climbing up into a Yellow Pine and playing around. The next morning we had to hike through the same area. We split up and I had to cut through the top edge of a patch of pine trees to get to where I wanted to be before daylight hit. The thought of the bears was in the back of my mind, and I figured if they were still around, this would be the patch of pines they would be in. It wasn't pitch dark but right next to it. I was moving very slow without a flash light. Just then limbs started breaking. It sounded like a herd of elk stampeding through the trees. The only problem was the sound wasn't getting any further away. Fortunately, it wasn't getting any closer, either. It was already close enough, about 10 yards. The sow started popping her teeth, (now that's a scary sound). That's when I realized the breaking branches were the cubs climbing up the tree. I was doing my best to see into the dark without digging out my light. I could see a big black bulk just under the tree where the snapping was coming from. I slowly took my gun off my shoulder and pointed it in the ready position. Then I slowly backed my way out of there, trying not to move to fast or trip in the dark. I considered myself very lucky to have gotten out of that one without bloody clothes or dirty pants. We both ended up shooting good bucks. As we joined back up my buddy asked me what that crazy noise was. He was long way off but could still hear those teeth snapping. Not as scary as the other story posted but it sure had potential to be.

 

[just_a_hunter]

Awesome stories! I have read each one. This is a great thread.

Well after the 2005 experience, I decided I was going to get a dog and train him to just hunt with me. Kind of a first line of defence since Utah wouldn't allow you to pack heat during archery season. So I got Gauge in 2006 but he wasn't ready to go until 2007 and we didn't share our first bear encounter until 2008 which brings me to Crap Creek Bear story #2..

Utah Archery Season 2008

So I set out with Gauge the (Bow Hunting) Gun Dog Sr. to the same area I had the encounter with in 2005.

I posted this story on another forum when I did a hunt report back in '08.

This time it happened close to the truck while crossing the creek to start working up the ridge in persuit of an elk.

Gauge and I topped the rim of the first and started to descend into the next when that feeling came over me that I might just ought to turn around right now and save myself, Gauge, and some poor bears time because we inconvenienced each other.

I didn't listen to that feeling because if you do on this mountain you won't get much hunting done.

We made it to the bottom uneventful only seeing the fleeing butt of one bear. I was going out of my way to be a little noisy and make sure any other bears out front of us would know I was coming.

I was about 1/3 away from the top of the 2nd ridge when all of the sudden Gauge hackled up and started growling and smelling the thick undergrowth to our left. I instantly froze and clutched for my can of bear spray.

I didn't see anything, and said, ?We only have a little further to go, ol boy. C?mon!?

I took one more step and at no more then 10 FEET, two cubs, both no bigger then gauge started pawing there way up the closest quaky.

I instantly did a 180 and made it back to the bottom of the canyon in just a few leaps. Gauge was right there with me. I stopped in the bottom and looked back up, bear spray ready, to make sure momma bear wasn?t on our heals. It was no surprise to me to find out that she was.

She was about 50 yards directly up hill from me, and when I made eye contact she showed her unpleasant side with a nasty pop of her teeth. I sprayed the spray hoping the fog would deter her. I was unpleasantly surprised once again to find out my bear spray was bear foam.

Now I'm a fat guy, but I would bet the fastest runner in the world wouldn't have beaten me running out of the bottom of that canyon. I feel I must warn you here. Running is not the thing to do most of the time, but I could tell that she didn't want to eat me, she just wanted me the hell out of there and she was going to do everything in her power to make sure my threat to her young ones was neutralized.

When I did top out, I looked back once more to make sure she still wasn?t on our heals and I still wasn?t surprised to find out she still was.

Now I was all business. I yelled ?HEY YOU STUPID (insert cussword)!!!!! I?M NOT GOING TO FIGHT YOU TIRED!!!! YOU WANT SOME, COME GET IT.!!!!!!!!?

I picked up a rock and chucked it at her. At my yelling the protector in Gauge came out and he voiced his opinion on the matter as well. Hackled up and all.

With hesitance, she listened to her fear and common sense, and angrily retreated to her cubs.

I think me and Gauge could of whipped her, but we both would have had hundreds of stitches before it was over.

Todd

 

[overton]

At least you had your faithful llama with you 45.

 

[feddoc]

LAST EDITED ON Oct-30-11 AT 09:59AM (MST)[p]'This didn't happen to me'

Many years ago I used to teach combat search and rescue for the Navy. Basically the courses were designed to teach USN aircrew how to survive in bad guy country.

The hunting part is a bit later in this story.
Anyway, we decided to integrate our training with other services in the event USN SEALs weren't available. I was chosen to oversee the event. And I was assured that no live ammo would be used.

So, off we went into the National Forest near our base. The set up was a single seat FA-18 had gone down and our job was to recover the pilot. One helo had already dropped off the pilot, who had a survival radio with him. The radio was capable of using national assets to locate the downed pilot via LAT/LONG and altitude fixes, given enough satellites. So, he is on the gound doing his thing...sanitizing the area where he landed, arranging his survival kit, etc., as we (I and the SF group sent out to find him) approached his position.

We recovered the pilot and were on our way back to the LZ when the point man made some motions and the pilot and I got shoved to the ground while 5-6 guys locked and loaded on something and the remaining platoon members surrounded the pilot and I. Hmmm, what could it be? It was two brothers who were deer hunting on public land. I was pizzed beyond belief when I found out they had live ammo. Pizzed that they had it and pizzed that I didn't think to look instead of taking their word for it.

The brothers, well, they just laughed it off and asked for directions.

End of story.



Compromise, hell! ... If freedom is right and tyranny is wrong, why should those who believe in freedom treat it as if it were a roll of bologna to be bartered a slice at a time?

 

[justr_86]

I'll share another time....

My dad, brother and I were elk hunting. Rick had just gotten off his mission so he didn't get a tag, just tagging along with dad and I. We did our morning hunt, I screwed up on 3 different bulls in 3 different settings... We met back up on top and I talked dad into walking through a trail we had been told about but never walked. Rick was to pick us up in the bottom. We start down and run into 2 cows, after making sure they were the only 2 there and them moving off we keep heading down. We run into a few more and spread out a little since the trees are really thick. Well they beat us again.. Dad gets my attention and I head over to him. He says we better start heading over. Your supposed to catch a saddle from one ridge to another and hunt down that ridge to the road. We shot low, very low... We climb over the steep ridge and nothing looks familiar. We work down to another saddle and over that ridge.. Still nothing looks familiar.. Its starting to get dark, so we start heading down that ridge knowing we will hit a road sooner or later.. Dad starts getting sick... We sit down and he finishes off the last 2 granola bars and water. After a few minutes he says he is ready to give it another try and we head down. This ridge leads us down into a bowl we have no choice but to climb the south side of.. We make it to the lowest saddle on the ridge and look around. The sun has set, but we can still see a ways so its not dark. I said "dad there's the dugway dropping into the main canyon" he says "bs, we aren't that low. There's no way we missed it that bad!" We sit there and talk for a minute and decide what the best way down is through the mess of rock slides and deadfall and get moving. We make it through the tangled mess and climb up on the next ridge. By now we can just make out little details. We pick out some ranch houses, a pipeline, the river then a truck drives up the road. He still doesn't believe we missed it that bad and I talk him into just getting to the road and we can figure it out. I know he is sick, and not in the right frame of mind. I take whatever I can to help lighten his load and we head down, then back up again overlooking the main road in the bottom with truck headlight spread evenly along the road. Its pitch black now and we have to go down a steep hill that you need to use your hands to help... We pick our way slowly down the hill with minor a minor incident of me losing my footing and sliding through a cactus patch. We get to the flat ground and still have a mile or so before the road. I take dads pack and gun and strap it on me, after much convincing.. About another 45 minutes we get to the road, he is sick, shaking, throwing up and physically exhausted and mentally drained. We sit by the road and wait for a truck hoping they will give us a ride to the truck. Not too long a truck is coming up the road, I stop them, they give us some munchies and some water. We get it together and get in the truck. My brother has some family friends looking for us. My dads friends wife is beyond pissed!

From where we started at noon to where we hit the main road straight through is 15 miles, not counting jumping ridges and the steep up and down.. We got to our truck about 10:00..

All the way through we were seeing elk and deer, good bulls and big bucks but never shot cause we didn't know where we were. We have never tried it since and have no intentions of doing so....

 

[VelvetyJones]

well 1911,
you gotta realize,ever since obama's nephew shot the buck out from under him last year, Reddog has been sending people on some nice hikes,was there as many big bucks as he claimed?

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