What’s your spookiest hunting experience?

[Travis2282]

Mostly hunting whitetail near meth hoods! Haha

 

[Doubleplay]

A very recent one happened last year in Limpopo.
We went to a friends game farm to spend time with family to spend couple days and my son who is a resident in SA was going to shoot some animals for meat.
They decided to let my grand daughter who was 9 at the time to shoot a small crock which they did want to get rid off.
My son along with his PH friend and her went to the dam on the property to wait for the crock to come out of the water.
The rest as was told by my son:
"We were there for about an hour suddenly we heard an ear piercing shriek and baboons started screaming 100 yards behind us where the Limpopo river borders the property.
Then we heard the leopard and saw the baboons running away from the tree line.
After that my buddy PH jokingly started to make leopard sounds.
Five minutes passed and he turned to my daughter took the rifle from her and told her to back off towards the truck slowly which was 150 yards away in the opposite direction.
He added if we start shooting don't look back, run and get inside the cab.
After that he pulled his Glock and passed it to me and I realized he had goosebumps on his arm and he pointed to a bush 30 yards in front of us.
Then, I saw the leopard crouched and directly looking at us with yellow eyes I will never forget.
We took a defensive stand 6 feet apart and got ready for what we thought was an inevitable attack...
After what felt like eternity I saw a slight movement and he was gone.
We backed off slowly and got out of there as fast and controlled as we can."

 

[Safari Dave]

I had a trespasser/poacher send a bullet over my head, when he saw me coming from about 100 yards away on my Dad's property while deer hunting when I was a teenager.

I my first thought was to drop to the ground and "return to sender", but my cooler head prevailed.

 

[DPHunter4570]

Pretty low on the spookiness scale compared to some other stories. But I sat a bear bait stand deep in the Canadian bush till the wee hours one night waiting on a ride. I was last in line to be picked up, then they got the wheeler stuck. It got real dark and real quiet out there that's for sure. Plus the temps dropped like crazy!

 

[Schmidty]

These are all good reads...I have few but I'll go with my encounter with a spitting cobra in 2003 on my very first safari. Keep in mind I'm deathly afraid of snakes, I live in Minnesota so I've only ever encountered garder snakes and they creep me out.
I was sitting over a waterhole while bowhunting for plains game. A large long snake came to the water and begain drinking. I pulled out my video camera and started recording. After drinking it swims across the water and literally heads straight for the blind. It runs into the side of the blind and I'm now freaking out. I can see it's shadow through the blind slithering around to where I am sitting. I grab the radio and call the PH to come. When the PH arrives he can't find the snake and is dismissive like I was exaggerating about what I saw. Later that day I showed him the video and he says "shit man, that's a big snake". I asked him what kind of snake it was and he told me a spitting cobra.
It still gives me chills and my biggest fear about going to Africa. I've done three safaris and fortunately only have had one snake encounter. I'll be going back in 2025 on a buffalo hunt.

 

[randallhebert]

Hunting down around cotulla texas for deer. My buddy dropped me off in the blind one morning to bow hunt. Sitting there waiting for shooting light and feel something climbing the ladder. Hear some Spanish and realize it's wetbacks traveling through start talking telling them they need to get on. Hear a thud and the running. Not sure how many, but always packed my pistol after that

 

[Mark Biggerstaff]

All good stories.
In 2018 on my first safari, after a long trek and a couple blown stalks PH and I were walking back to the truck down one of the roads. We got to a cross road on property and PH says he will go fetch the truck and wait here by some old cattle pens. I stepped over leaned rifle against a gate and turned to relieve myself of some excess fluid. Standing there I felt something brush my right foot and looked down. The biggest Puff Adder I have ever seen was crawling over my right foot!
I froze in place, when he got a foot or so away I was gone back to the middle of the road. The puff went over to where my rifle was leaning and just curled up. PH arrived and took care of rest. I was a nerved the rest of the hunt. Only snake encounter in 6 trips now.

 

[Wheels]

Opening my eyes in a tent on a bright night and seeing a silhouetted elephants head and trunk sniffing the top of the tent. I didn't move or make a sound. He left without making a sound. In the morning his footprints were within 4-5' from my head.

Picking okra in the garden for my mom and seeing a leopard crouched 15' away in the long grass. I backed slowly to the house.

Trying to knock a guava out of a tree with a stick, I knocked a boomslang on top of me. He rolled down my arm and side.

Waking to find muddy lion pawprints on my window ledge. Had the screen kept him out.

Embarrassingly, getting 100% lost in a whiteout blizzard on 1900 acres I was familiar with. Dug in under a cedar tree for the night. The snow and wind stopped and I was able to see a farm yard light and get my bearings. I was within 200 yards of my vehicle.

 

[BJH65]

Back in 2004 we hunted grizzly in Alaska with old time guide George Faerber, who had guided Ted Nugent back in the 70’s. We were hunting grizzly near the Chulitna River, adjacent to Denali National Park near Cantwell Alaska. B&C considers them brown bear and SCI grizzly bear due to their demarcation line.

According to George, a large boar in this region can top out at 9 ft and 1000 lbs, so larger than true interior grizzlies due to a combination of salmon and berries in their diet, but not as large as the Kodiak and Alaskan Peninsula brown bears. I recall walking along a narrow trail, almost like a tunnel through the willows to 4th of July Creek, and noting tufts of rubbed off grizzly hair on each side of the narrow trail. George casually mentioned a fisherman was horribly mauled by a grizzly the year before on this same trail. I asked if I should chamber a round in my 300 Win Mag? George said “no, it’s rare to surprise one along the trail.” I was thinking to myself, what about the fisherman?

We had a tent camp set up out in the bush. Proper camp etiquette is to use a designated latrine hole and mine was about 100 yards from camp. I had a routine, and sometimes if I had to pee in the middle of the night, I would grab a flashlight and my handgun, and dutifully walk the 100 yards to my latrine hole I had dug.

One morning we got up to discover huge grizzly tracks all over the camp including just outside our tent flap! All food was in bear proof containers and nothing was disturbed or out of place. George said he was a “well mannered bear.” Anyhow, I stopped walking out 100 yards at night to pee and if I had to pee it was just outside our tent!

A few days later George had an encounter at night with a grizzly when he was out using his latrine hole, except this bear wasn’t polite and followed him back to camp, huffing and chomping its teeth while it circled the camp, too dark to really identify whether a sow with cubs or a single grizzly. My brother initially had his 44 magnum M29 but wisely transitioned to his 375 H&H.

George didn’t want to shine a light and be accused of spotlighting and the grizzly continued to circle the camp, clicking its teeth and woofing. The grizzly did this for a good 5 minutes which seemed like an eternity to them. The assistant guide and I returned to camp from a days hunt and the bear departed. My brother and George told us what happened. Too many people must have driven the grizzly away.

I ended up getting a nice 8ft Grizzly on the 6th day.

 

[Safari Dave]

I know a "friend of a friend" who had to return fire all night long in Mozambique about 15 year's ago during a period of civil unrest.


One guy took an AK-47 round through the calf, but they managed to fend off the tribe until the tribe disappeared the next morning.

 

[fourfive8]

@BJH65, I can relate! Dang bears are hard if not impossible to predict. I had posted this in another thread but kind of fits here also. I spent a couple of days this past weekend with a cousin who has a place and property on the Kenai. He related a story about a rogue bear on the river a few years ago at the same time I had foolishly stayed fishing too late down at the confluence of the Russian and Kenai. Nobody there past about 3 pm should have been a clue, but hey, the fishing was exceptional. At dark, I started up the trail and suddenly realized how stupid!! There had been recent bear problems on the river in a couple of places around Cooper Landing including at the Russian River confluence and I knew it. All the way out to the parking lot I was thinking how dumb, dumb, dumb ... no gun, no bear spray, armed only with a fly rod, at night, with problem bears around. This past weekend at a family gathering, my cousin retold that story about a particular, locally known brown bear he had snooping around his place on the Kenai that had grabbed and badly mauled a tourist. All at the same time I was whistling through the graveyard walking back to my vehicle in the dark! Sometimes, luck favors the foolish I guess.

 

[WAB]

@BJH65, I can relate! Dang bears are hard if not impossible to predict. I had posted this in another thread but kind of fits here also. I spent a couple of days this past weekend with a cousin who has a place and property on the Kenai. He related a story about a rogue bear on the river a few years ago at the same time I had foolishly stayed fishing too late down at the confluence of the Russian and Kenai. Nobody there past about 3 pm should have been a clue, but hey, the fishing was exceptional. At dark, I started up the trail and suddenly realized how stupid!! There had been recent bear problems on the river in a couple of places around Cooper Landing including at the Russian River confluence and I knew it. All the way out to the parking lot I was thinking how dumb, dumb, dumb ... no gun, no bear spray, armed only with a fly rod, at night, with problem bears around. This past weekend at a family gathering, my cousin retold that story about a particular, locally known brown bear he had snooping around his place on the Kenai that had grabbed and badly mauled a tourist. All at the same time I was whistling through the graveyard walking back to my vehicle in the dark! Sometimes, luck favors the foolish I guess.

When I lived on the Kenai a bear grabbed a guy by the head and ripped his face off, eyes and all, on that same trail doing exactly what you did. Not many locals fish there.

 

[steve white]

I have mentioned at some point having a swamp buggy break down 15 miles from camp in Kilombero TZ. It was too late in the afternoon, and we finally got two guys in a makoro to take us downriver for the price of $20 and a toothbrush apiece. No one else would risk that long stretch since the hippo were mating, and the river full of them. All we did was go through pods of them, the major dome bulls always the last to go under, and often ripples coming our direction until turning off to beach through the matetti cane. One came up with trotline hooks popping the drop lines. Crocodiles--the stuff nightmares are made of. One came sliding into the river from a slough and slammed his tail into the canoe while submerging. The game scout shouted, "Don't shoot, is not attacking--is just a collision!" It got dark and we passed through pods of hippo without knowing until we heard them behind us. Finally we heard the generator, saw the lights and pulled up at camp--not sure how many river miles accomplished. The PH said, "now Pastor, we didn't wish to disturb you, but the reason the old boys gave us a ride was because the witch doctor had sacrificed a chicken right in their boat, and said "now the hippos will flee from you and not attack you." Nice bed time story.

In Zimbabwe, we had driven around a different way to load a buffalo I had shot (my first, and the occasion of a followup charge WITH IT'S BUDDY, which had aborted after cracking brush for about 20 yards, and then turning back into the brush--we did not get a clear shot and had to continue followup) and were walking up a sandy donga when an elephant popped out of the brush ahead and stepped back, flaring its ears in surprise. It must have communicated somehow because each of seven others were looking anxiously for us as soon as they popped out of the same brush all the while spreading out on either side of the matriarch in a skirmish line. No trumpeting, rather a standoff. The PH said, don't make any sound that is metallic. I am going to slap my rifle butt and speak to them. He shouted them off and after a while the matriarch turned and disappeared into the brush with each elephant to either side alternately exiting through the same tunnel, like bridesmaids exiting a wedding. AT THAT TIME I HAD NO IDEA HOW DANGEROUS COW ELEPHANTS CAN BE!

Again, in Kilombero, we had stepped out of a boat and making our way inland through the matetti, the tracker said, "stop!" Snake!, Where, I asked? Just in front of you in the grass--it will just pass through. I looked and saw a dull light green snake which sure enough disappeared and moved on. What kind was it? "Mamba."

 

[Ontario Hunter]

Opening day of elk season 1971 I stayed on the mountain too long. My partner and I had separated earlier that day a few hours after a grizzly with cub bellowed at our scent. He got to my '53 Chev Bel Air first and I came down the wrong way and wound up following a brushy creek back to the clear-cut. Just as I approached the treeline I saw the headlights swinging back down the road. Oh well, he'll come back. Nope! I waited till 11:30 and decided I'd better walk out. The Spotted Bear complex and ranger station was about ten miles. Temp was dropping fast and my feet were wet. As I rounded a sharp corner I glanced to the side and saw a golden calf. Then it was gone. Hmmm. Weird. My eyes are playing tricks on me. Okay. About a half hour later as I approached the first logging road intersection something caught my eye to the left. I turned and saw a frost man and hairy goblin standing silently, thumbs out as if to hitch a ride. My 30-06 came off my shoulder: "I don't know what your game is but you better talk fast or I'll put some air in ya!" Silence. Then to myself out loud: "Pat, you are in a bad, bad way!" Fortunately, just the week before I had read about three girls from an Oregon survival course outing who were caught in a freak early snowstorm. Only one survived and she told the reporter how the other two died. I knew from the symptoms I was in the end stages of hypothermia! To survive was going to be a challenge. Soon everything was not real. I was seeing search planes in the sky with spotlights. I attempted to walk into one of the shafts of spotlight ... BONK! It was barkless slash log sticking up from the ground. There is a big tree house back in the woods with lights in the windows. Okay, someone will be there. Just as I got to it the tree house turned into a giant owl, also not real. After stumbling around in the timber for a half hour seeing all manner of things, including an African lion, I made it back to the road. Time for a plan. "Never leave the road again!!" I reached the driveway to a dude ranch. The lodge building I knew was real ... I could touch the door. Looking in the window I could see the glow of propane heater. Oh my, I wanted in there. I pounded loudly on the door. The owner came and opened it. "I need to get to a phone to call off the search planes." She stepped out, looked up, then with obvious disgust: "There's a phone at the Spotted Bear airstrip. Do you think your drunk ass can make it that far?" I was so ashamed (and messed up in the head), I apologized and shuffled back down the road. My speech was badly slurred and indeed sounded like I was drunk. By the time I reached the main road nothing was real, not even the road I was standing on. It became the top of the dam where my dad worked. I could walk to one side and see water. The other ditch I could look down at the powerhouse. By now I was shivering so hard I was literally bouncing off the ground. The pain was unbearable. But now I could not move. I didn't have the sense to know which direction was to the complex and which was to sure death. Plan now was to wait till daybreak and hope hallucinations dissipated. Then I could walk till I could see the river. If it was flowing in the same direction, I needed to turn around. In the meantime the phantom planes (stars) were still circling. My, there were so many! They must have called the Air Natl Guard from Spokane. Finally, the pain from tremors and hallucinations became unbearable. My one major defect is I don't know fear, only anger when threatened. "Damn you God, this is ENOUGH! You can end this in ten minutes or I will!" Ten minutes came and went. I turned the gun on myself. Click! Well, shit! Empty gun. I dug out the new box of shells. Also empty! I tell you now, I don't forget anything that happened that night. But I do NOT remember firing a shot. Believe it or not, my concern was that the noise from signal shots might piss off the outfitter gal down the road. Yep, seriously impaired judgment. So what happened to my ammo? The hand of God. And He did not leave me.

Daylight came and the hallucinations tapered (but not altogether). I was about to head down the main road looking for the river but walked into the woods to take a leak. Then I heard my dad's '67 Plymouth drive by. I turned in time to see it go down the main road. And which direction do I start walking? The opposite! After seeing an imaginary elk laying in the road surrounded by imaginary coyotes and unable to shoot them with no ammo, I finally glimpsed the South Fork River ... and it was going my direction. Turned around. Now I knew I was headed to Spotted Bear. I passed the intersection where I spent the night. Eventually the bridge came in sight. Ah, I'm getting close. But there's Wally Riley fly fishing. I'm hollering and staggering "Hey, Walley. Glad to see you. I'm in trouble." It was a fisherman but not Wally. Scared the guy badly. He started to back away and stumbled in the current. "Sorry, man." Embarrassed I climbed back up to the road and continued. At last I saw the small USFS sign "Entering Spotted Bear Complex." I made it! By now I had long ceased shivering. This means the end is close but by now I didn't have the sense to acknowledge it. At last I am finally able to rest! So I should just sit down on the edge road. Well, that would have made sense. Instead, I spot a lodgepole deadfall back in the trees about twenty yards. I sit down there, pull on my gray parka hood, put my head on my knees, and just about to fall asleep when I hear my dad's car coming down the road. I know that sound well. The car goes by. Then I hear the braked tires sliding in gravel. Doors slam. I hear them coming. Just when Dad and my hunting partner get to me I'm finally able to lift my head. They look shocked. Not surprising. My skin tone was the color of death. Then I started babbling in drunken jibberrish demanding that we get to a phone and call off the air search. They looked at each other. My partner almost started to cry. He thought I had brain damage. Correct. Fortunately, only temporary. Dad put me in the back seat and gave me an orange with instructions to only eat half (he was afraid I'd barf if I ate too much too fast). I couldn't make my hands work and ashamed to ask for help. So I ate the peel too. Then fell straight to sleep. Dad had driven by when I was peeing. Then he picked up Ray at Spotted Bear Ranger Station and they drove back up to where we'd been hunting. Meantime, I was walking the wrong way down the main road. I came back while they were still up at the end of the logging road. Dad was headed back to the ranger station to call out search and rescue, when he just happened to turn his head to say something to Ray and spotted me sitting on the log back in the trees. The last act of God for that day. I slept all through the day and into the next. Dad woke me up and we drove to the doctor's office. He wanted me checked over. My feet were so swollen when I was found the wet boots had to be cut off, but only a small patch of frostbite on the outside edge of right foot. Doc Coville looked at the the thermometer, then got another, and another. "Pat, you are not supposed to be alive!" My body temperature was still several degrees below normal. Doc was quite the outdoorsman and insisted that I tell him everything. It took the better part of an hour as he took careful notes. I wonder if that clinic still has his records? A couple of months ago I did a Google search and found the story of the girls in Oregon. I'm thinking of trying to find the survivor and thank her for keeping me alive. A little bit of knowledge can go a long way, especially when thought processes are impaired. Know they will be and govern yourself accordingly. Make a plan while you can. And give God shit. I think He respects that kind of courage.

The following weekend I was recovered enough to be back on the mountain ... with better boots! Shot my first and best bull elk.

 

[Scott CWO]

Back in 2004 we hunted grizzly in Alaska with old time guide George Faerber, who had guided Ted Nugent back in the 70’s. We were hunting grizzly near the Chulitna River, adjacent to Denali National Park near Cantwell Alaska. B&C considers them brown bear and SCI grizzly bear due to their demarcation line.

According to George, a large boar in this region can top out at 9 ft and 1000 lbs, so larger than true interior grizzlies due to a combination of salmon and berries in their diet, but not as large as the Kodiak and Alaskan Peninsula brown bears. I recall walking along a narrow trail, almost like a tunnel through the willows to 4th of July Creek, and noting tufts of rubbed off grizzly hair on each side of the narrow trail. George casually mentioned a fisherman was horribly mauled by a grizzly the year before on this same trail. I asked if I should chamber a round in my 300 Win Mag? George said “no, it’s rare to surprise one along the trail.” I was thinking to myself, what about the fisherman?

We had a tent camp set up out in the bush. Proper camp etiquette is to use a designated latrine hole and mine was about 100 yards from camp. I had a routine, and sometimes if I had to pee in the middle of the night, I would grab a flashlight and my handgun, and dutifully walk the 100 yards to my latrine hole I had dug.

One morning we got up to discover huge grizzly tracks all over the camp including just outside our tent flap! All food was in bear proof containers and nothing was disturbed or out of place. George said he was a “well mannered bear.” Anyhow, I stopped walking out 100 yards at night to pee and if I had to pee it was just outside our tent!

A few days later George had an encounter at night with a grizzly when he was out using his latrine hole, except this bear wasn’t polite and followed him back to camp, huffing and chomping its teeth while it circled the camp, too dark to really identify whether a sow with cubs or a single grizzly. My brother initially had his 44 magnum M29 but wisely transitioned to his 375 H&H.

George didn’t want to shine a light and be accused of spotlighting and the grizzly continued to circle the camp, clicking its teeth and woofing. The grizzly did this for a good 5 minutes which seemed like an eternity to them. The assistant guide and I returned to camp from a days hunt and the bear departed. My brother and George told us what happened. Too many people must have driven the grizzly away.

I ended up getting a nice 8ft Grizzly on the 6th day.

View attachment 589889View attachment 589891

Nice bear. I would use a piss bottle or urinal at night from now on!

 

[double rifle newbie]

Nice bear. I would use a piss bottle or urinal at night from now on!

i dont leave the tent at night. piss bottle always always

 

[randallhebert]

In Mana pool national park in Zimbabwe. First night there, sleeping in a tent, tired from traveling from Harare , I was sound asleep and the wife was getting ready for bed. She wakes me up and tells me there's something outside the window. You can hear heavy footsteps and grass being ripped up and chewed. Roll up the window cover and there's a hippo 5 feet away eating. Wasn't much we could do so I suggested to the wife to be real quite and go to sleep so he doesn't get mad. That was the first time I didn't get back talk.

 

[Flipper Dude]

Last day of an Ohio bow hunt several years back. Drove from camp to the spot where we were parking, about 5 miles. We got out and started to get our climbers out as well as our bows. I then realized that I had neglected to put my Hunter‘s Safety system vest back in my bow case. Crap. No biggy, I can do without it for one hunt. Got about 50 yards into the woods, then told my partner
to go ahead, I’m going back to camp for my harness. Wasted about 30 minutes. Long story short, we had agreed to get down when the church bells in the valley next to us tolled noon, as we had to get on the road back to Texas. I used the lightest, easiest carrying stand on the market at that time. Coming down at 11, the upper snapped in half at 20 plus feet. I plunged headfirst toward the ground, my right foot stuck in the lower section. The straps grabbed me between the shoulders. Thank God for that moment of clear headedness earlier.

Was able to pull myself up to the platform by sheer adrenaline only, as I was doing a full split down the tree, with right foot still hung in the climber over my head. Ordered the beefiest stand on the market as we drove home. Summit Goliath , at the time. Still use it.

 

[MS 9x56]

Last day of an Ohio bow hunt several years back. Drove from camp to the spot where we were parking, about 5 miles. We got out and started to get our climbers out as well as our bows. I then realized that I had neglected to put my Hunter‘s Safety system vest back in my bow case. Crap. No biggy, I can do without it for one hunt. Got about 50 yards into the woods, then told my partner
to go ahead, I’m going back to camp for my harness. Wasted about 30 minutes. Long story short, we had agreed to get down when the church bells in the valley next to us tolled noon, as we had to get on the road back to Texas. I used the lightest, easiest carrying stand on the market at that time. Coming down at 11, the upper snapped in half at 20 plus feet. I plunged headfirst toward the ground, my right foot stuck in the lower section. The straps grabbed me between the shoulders. Thank God for that moment of clear headedness earlier.

Was able to pull myself up to the platform by sheer adrenaline only, as I was doing a full split down the tree, with right foot still hung in the climber over my head. Ordered the beefiest stand on the market as we drove home. Summit Goliath , at the time. Still use it.

Should have got a tree lounge. Next to impossible to fall out of.

 

[Flipper Dude]

Should have got a tree lounge. Next to impossible to fall out of.

Hah! Had a tree lounge! Great for rifle I suppose, but scariest stand ever for bow. Easy to fall out.