What’s your spookiest hunting experience?

[Ridge Runner]

Nothing spooky, just a bit nerve racking experiences while out hunting.

Getting caught in an electrical storm.

Having a 6 feet long black snake come straight at me while seated on the ground against a big comfortable rock while turkey hunting.

2x Reaching for a hand hold only to find out: 1st it was a very big black snake, tending to mt horse Colt. The 2nd while out hunting, it was a green tree snake that I came very close, within inches, of putting my hands on.

Different locations while out fishing from pond banks encountering copperhead snakes.

Only heard these 2 stories: a couple of guys waking up to copperhead snakes; one incident the snake was laying coiled on top of the fellow's sleeping bag with the fellow in it. The other the snake was strectehed out beside the fellow and inside the sleeping bag. In both instances the sleeping bags are "mummy bags" not the rectangular type.

 

[steve white]

I'll relate this one for a friend: He woke up, out on patrol in Viet Nam, to the sensation of a snake moving inside his sleeping bag. He alerted his friend to cover him as he did a 20 minute slow sit up and slow crouch that allowed him to rapidly jump to safety. His friend sprayed the bag, full auto switched on...no real movement noted. They pulled the cover back slowly to reveal....a bag full of scaly asian cockroaches that had come in to get the salty sweat off the bag!

Analogous to Ridge Runner's story, I woke once with a scorpion sitting in the little indentation just below my Adam's apple; just slapped it away.

 

[Ontario Hunter]

Must have been '97 or '98 and I was hunting the last day of moose season, December 15. Plenty of good new snow on the ground for tracking and no wind. Skies were overcast but not threatening when I left a couple hours before daybreak for the 70 mile drive to my hunting grounds. About a half hour after leaving the truck I hit two fresh tracks on an old logging trail, one obviously a big bull and the other probably a three year-old. Tracking moose is tricky. Unlike elk, if they here  anything coming on their track, they are gone and will never stop. So I was very cautious. Eventually, I could tell they were looking for feed or a place to bed down. In spite of due diligence they spotted me first and were up and off through the tag alders before I could get a shot. By then it was afternoon and really too late to backtrack to the skid trail and go on to the old cutting units. So I stayed on their track hoping they might stop and feed or take me to other moose (it was the late rut). And they did take me to more moose! Tracks everywhere. About three in the afternoon I stepped out onto what I thought was the road I'd left earlier. Okay, I know I'm not far from the truck. I continued to follow tracks down the road for maybe twenty minutes when rounding a corner to my horror I spotted a very distinctive red pine with an oddly shaped branch sticking out like it was designed for a kid's swing. I knew that tree! And I knew the obviously abandoned road I was standing on did NOT lead back to my truck. I had found the road a couple years before on a cross country tracking venture but never able to follow it to find out where it came from or why it was unused. About the same time it started snowing HARD. This was very concerning. The only way back from here was to cut cross country through a mature pine plantation and a cedar swamp to the north end of an old cutting unit. Then follow the west edge till I hit flagging for the trail back to my truck. But now it was dark and fast turning into a blizzard. I found the spot in the road to jump off crosscountry. After a half hour in the pine plantation I found I was going in circles. Forty minutes later I luckily stumbled onto the road I'd left. I made one more brief attempt but gave up just in time to barely follow my tracks back to the road. Time for another plan. Back down the road was a large flat arrowhead shaped bare rock slab that pointed to the top of the divide with the P* river below. I remembered there was a spot where the loggers cut too close to the river. If I could follow the river till I got to that place then I should be able to cross the cutting unit due west to the other side and find the flagging for the truck trail. Following the river in the dark was more difficult than expected. There were numerous rock crevices and one large semifrozen beaver pond that had to be negotiated. But finally I did find the opening to the cutting unit. By now I was facing a full blown blizzard! Had to make a decision. I had half a sandwich and some fire making stuff in my daypack. There was lots of birchbark and cedar available in the river canyon for starting a fire and some standing jack pine that could be pushed over for fuel. But by now I was very cold. I was not dressed for this. I only had a fleece jacket over wool shirt and wool pants over jeans. My pacs were warm enough but sweaty. If I stopped moving my feet would get very cold fast unless I could get my socks dried out. I knew from experience I probably had just enough gas in my calorie count to make one attempt at building a fire. If that failed I would not make it till morning. Half a sandwich would not keep me alive that long. So I decided to take my chances crossing the cutting unit. Figured I could either backtrack to the river or return to the sound of waterfall. But by the time I was twenty minutes into the cutting unit all plans went to hell. I could no longer hear the river and my tracks had literally filled as fast as I made them. I had no idea what direction I was headed. Looking down I was solid white head to toe. I talked to myself and the words were totally slurred. And I was shivering HARD. Damn, I'm going to start hallucinating any second. Been there! When that happens I will be done for. No way to get sheltered. What to do? "If only I could see the moon, I know it will be in the west that late in the evening. Please let me see the moon." Now, the next part is unbelievable but as God is my witness, it actually happened. No sooner did I say that and a hole opened in the storm. There was the moon! Snow was still coming down and the wind was blowing hard, but there was the moon in the west. Exactly what I needed. My flashlight was holding out but only because I was using it sparingly. Now with the moon as a becon. I could stumble ahead carefully in the right direction. After nearly an hour the dark treeline of the edge of the cutting unit loomed up ahead. At THAT exact point ... the hole in the blizzard closed and the moon was enveloped again. By now I was in perilous condition shaking uncontrollably. As soon as I can get on the trail and out of the wind, I'll eat the sandwich. I know I can make it to the truck then. But now there was one more obstacle: I was at the edge of the cutting unit but where is the flagging for the trailhead? Do I go north or do I go south? Guess wrong and I may not make it. I flicked on my flashlight ... and there right in front of me not ten yards away was the flagging flapping in the wind! I made it back to the truck, gulped down a Coke waiting under the seat, put the truck in 4x4 low 3rd gear and inched my way home (almost piled into a group of four moose in the headlights on the highway). I didn't crawl into bed until just after 4:00 a.m. My wife pushed me away. "Pat, you're so COLD! Aren't you kinda late?" Oh, not too late. Go back to sleep. I never told her what happened. If I had I'm sure she would have snuck my rifle out to the curb on garbage collection morning.

 

[PARA45]

Not spooky but scared the crap out of me.

I was 18 years old, and I was hunting Holey Land WMA in Florida. I was bow hunting and I was using a metal ladder stand. It was roughly 4:30-500 pm, when without warning, I heard the crack of lightning just behind me. I turned to look at a nasty afternoon thunderstorm. I tried to get back to my vehicle and got caught in the middle of a down pour, and lightning striking all around me. So, I decided to stay put, vs. risking walking in the open during the storm. I was in an island, and the water started rising quickly. A water moccasin swam by me not paying attention to my shivering body. I found an area away from the trees and basically crouch to make myself a small target. The water rose to about a foot while I was waiting for this storm to pass. I knew I was going to be struck by lightning and die, luckily someone was looking over me. The storm passed, I packed my junk and went home.

This happened this year, the day after my birthday. I was hunting a friend's property and he let me use this one box stand that is about 12 ft high. It had been raining for about 3 days, and I just knew the deer would be moving this afternoon to feed. Nightfall came in and nothing moved in. My friend told me that he be waiting by my truck. I unloaded my rifle, set it to the side and proceeded to get down from the stand. I stepped on the first rung, and when I shifted my weight so I could move my left foot down, my right foot slipped between the rungs, and next thing I know is I'm falling backward and head down. Not sure, how or when, but I managed to turn, and by doing so, my boot got caught on the ladder rung. Next thing I know is I'm upside down, held by my boot and the rest of my body dangling. My right leg was in an S shape. I told myself, well this is not good, but better than hitting the ground from 12 ft high. I thought for a minute how I was going to get out of this mess. By looking at my leg, I didn't know if it was broken or what. I figure I didn't feel any pain due to the adrenaline rush but had a bad feeling something was broken or dislocated. I managed to grad the ladder, and with my left foot pushed myself in a way I could free my right boot from the ladder. When I freed my right leg, I moved and realized that it was still functional.

I managed to get down, just to realize that my rifle was still in the stand. So, I hesitantly and cautiously climbed back up and grabbed my rifle trying not to fall again. I was in so much pain that I was nauseous from the pain on my hip and thigh. I walked out and told my friend the story. He was wondering what was taking me so long to get back. LOL. I got home, put some pain ointment and took some Tylenol. Woke up the next day like nothing. I was bruised, but luckily nothing broken or torn.