What’s your spookiest hunting experience?

[MS 9x56]

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

Only if you stand up to shoot.

 

[BnC 04]

When we lived in Alaska I had a great spot for blackbear hunting. There was an old makeshift wood cabin/hut that provided just enough shelter to provide a dry spot to sleep at night.
I flew in (drop off) on a Friday after work and packed to the cabin for the night. Once I had my bedroll positioned and my 44 layed out next to me it was time to rest. Something special about falling asleep to the sound of loons and swans. Sleep can fast and I was out like a light.
At some point that night I awoke to what I can best describe as a vacuum by my ear.
Once I opened my eyes and tilted my head I found out what the vacuum noise was.
A blackbear had worked his head through a hole in the boarded wall and was sniffing my head. I shot him at about a foot with my 44 and had to pull his head out of the cabin. Good sized boar and the easiest packing trip of my hunting career to date.

 

[Ontario Hunter]

When we lived in Alaska I had a great spot for blackbear hunting. There was an old makeshift wood cabin/hut that provided just enough shelter to provide a dry spot to sleep at night.
I flew in (drop off) on a Friday after work and packed to the cabin for the night. Once I had my bedroll positioned and my 44 layed out next to me it was time to rest. Something special about falling asleep to the sound of loons and swans. Sleep can fast and I was out like a light.
At some point that night I awoke to what I can best describe as a vacuum by my ear.
Once I opened my eyes and tilted my head I found out what the vacuum noise was.
A blackbear had worked his head through a hole in the boarded wall and was sniffing my head. I shot him at about a foot with my 44 and had to pull his head out of the cabin. Good sized boar and the easiest packing trip of my hunting career to date.

My gawd! How much was the sign language course at U of Alaska? I guess being deaf is better than being scalped.

 

[steve white]

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.

I had a premonition that my brother had fallen out of his tree stand. It was strong enough to act on, and was about 11:00 am, so I went to the truck to go check on him. He drove up right then, saying he had just fallen out of his tree stand. He had moved it and was stomping on it to make sure it was set tight when the chain around the tree broke and he fell, facing the tree. He rolled back like a parachuter landing, but rolled so hard his head hit the ground and flung his glasses 10 feet. Said he was OK, but years later still has an achy middle of the back in bad weather.

 

[Sarg]

In 2015 I was hunting for Spotted Hyena in Namibia. We hung a Baboon carcass I had shot earlier about 100 yards from an elevated blind. My P dropped me off at the blind and drove the truck out of sight about 400 yards away. Minutes later a shot rang out. A hyena had followed my PH in the truck and approached to within 6 YARDS . Luckily he packs a .44 Magnum and shot it a 6 yards to end our Hyena hunt.

Ahh Bud, you were hunting with my buddy Jan then I suppose ?

 

[WAB]

We had packed in five miles off the haul road near Galbraith lake on a caribou hunt. Exhausted, we set up camp and went to bed. When I woke up I unzipped the tent door, and there, right in front of the door and under the fly was a steaming grizzly turd. Bastard had to back his ass up under the tent fly to dump that load. I told my buddy I thought we were being told to move camp. We laughed and kept our guns loaded and close to hand for the rest of the hunt.

 

[bakerb]

All of mine came from the same hunt. My adventure of a lifetime in Botswana in 2023.

I "knew" to be afraid of elephants, especially cows, but I didn't "know" it down deep. I'd dreamed of elephant, but had never been on foot with elephant before. First 3 days were calm, we approached several bulls but we never got in their face or pushed anything. Day 4 started off on a bull trail, which was eventually lost on hard ground as we got close to some pans. So we continued down to the pans and surprised a bull at close range. He backed off, then mock charged twice with full vocal effects. Lots of adrenaline, but not really spooked. But starting to learn to fear elephants.

Left that pan, and just had time to calm down and get complacent on the trail, and ran smack dab into two young bulls. I was third in line and following and suddenly the trackers and my PH took off running in opposite directions. I followed the PH, one bull ran, and the other came close enough to see us then ran too. Again, not spooky, but several moments of adrenaline until I was able to figure out what was going on.

Back on a trail, mile after mile. Calm and getting tired. Pretty thick cover now, and suddenly the Trackers stop and point to our right, and there is a cow dusting just 20-25 yards to our right. We step out again and literally take two steps and hear a snore, and then an elephant calf jumps up to our LEFT at less than 10 yards and starts running. We're immediately running too, and the calf is running parallel to us. I now FEAR elephants. A calf that luckily remained silent, running, and we're already in the middle of the herd. Heart in throat, adrenaline overload, it feels like any moment this situation is going to get downright murderous. I'm 4 in line behind two trackers and the PH, and the game scout is behind me. He's unarmed and in such fear that he starts pushing me down to try to get in front and farther away

I now know what it's like to fear elephants. But day 4 isn't over. We relocated eventually and walk in to check some pans. We get in and there's two mature but non-trophy bulls that are fighting. Normally we wouldn't worry too much about mature bulls, but these were aggressive, maybe in musth. And they start to push each other towards the pan where we are. PH feels it prudent to cut the wind and dodge them. Which we do. And run smack into a cow herd heading to the pan. Fortunately the otherworldly trackers spot the cows before we're spotted, and we dodge them. Running again. Downwind. Dodging between the two groups of elephants.

I'm now hooked and love this. The adrenaline and fear is intoxicating. And I've picked up an especial fear of the cow herds. We would dance with them several more times. I think it was day 8 or 9 when we finally caught up with a group of 3 bulls that we'd been following for 10+ miles. They had picked a shady patch to spend the midday, and unbeknownst to us, they'd met up in the shade with a cow herd, and 11 other bulls. We were close to the bulls and were working in slowly when all hell breaks loose and the cow herd gets our wind and starts running away. At the same time there are unalarmed bulls walking around and we're trying to get in for judging. The feeling was almost surrounded by elephant. We're trying to see all the bulls, and the matriarch of the cow herd is coming BACK. We can't see her, but she's trumpeting and screaming and growling and very clearly getting closer. That growl they can do is chilling. We finally get a look at all bulls, most mature but none the right bull, and we get the hell out of there. Not being able to see the matriarch, but hearing her come closer, was probably even scarier than running from the middle of the cow herd that we could see.

I wanna go back

 

[BWH]

Man…. I’ve got several. One that jumps out, was hunting down in Natal. It was a makeshift “tree stand”, and old rickety ladder up about 15’, then another one that lead me to a rotten out piece of plywood to sit on about 30’ up in the pitch ass black dark to hunt bush pig at night over macadamia nuts. The bush baby’s came out & started throwing everything (nuts, turds, etc) at me. Finally, pig came out & busted it…. Then the trek down & not dying!

 

[Spear Safaris]

I had a real hair-raising one last December, but that story will have to hold over for now........

Back in 1989, we were hunting in a real remote part of the African savannah, 3 days drive from any civilisation, late season so it was pretty hot already, a 30 day Safari and on day 15 we ran totally out of Beer.
Now that was hair raising and spooky.........

 

[Longwalker]

I was hunting by myself in the remote and unpopulated Saskatchewan river delta. Late season moose, mid-December. It had just snowed, knee deep and fluffy, and was very very cold, -42° that morning when I set out walking from my overnight camp. The kind of cold that hurts inside if you breathe too deeply. There was no hint of wind. I was making good time, slogging through heavy snow and trying to cut a moose track, when I found a big, lone wolf track instead. Decided to follow it.
A few hundred meters along, the track started to curve, and with no moose tracks to keep me occupied I followed it around. I eventually cut my own track, with the wolf track on top of mine. the wolf was now following me ... Time to reassess the situation.
So I circled in a wide arc, and picked up the wolf's track again, and tried to set up an ambush. There was hardly any sound in the bush, just the odd crack of a distant tree trunk exploding from the pressure of frozen sap in its trunk, and the groan of thick ice shifting in the river channel. The snow was too soft to reveal the sound of a moving animal. But it hid the sound of my steps too.
I couldn't wait long in the intense cold, so after a few minutes when the wolf didn't show up, I set out once more, making my way through the thick willows and spruce in a big arc in the opposite direction. But I had an odd feeling, and on a hunch, backtracked for a bit, then turned in the opposite direction and around back behind a dense bluff of stunted spruce where I again intercepted my own track. The wolf's tracks were on mine again.
So I tried my best several times to backtrack, cautiously circle and intercept, but no luck. He always knew I was there, figured out my next move, avoided me, and continued his pursuit. Unseen and unheard. This continued for several hours and several kilometers.
I never did catch up to him, and if he did actually see me, he must have been more curious than hungry. At least that's what I tell myself. It was kinda humbling. He was much better at this game than I was.
The next morning, I was back at it again, actually following a moose track this time when a pair of whitetail deer jumped out of a clump of willows and crossed a tiny meadow in front of me. I swung my .308 like a shotgun, and pressed the trigger when the crosshairs passed the nose of the first one. Click. jacked out the cartridge and tried on the buck following. Boom. He skidded on his nose and piled up snow in front of him. I fished the defective cartridge out of the snow. The primer was barely dented. Later, back by my campfire I found out that the oil in the firing pin mechanism had turned into something like molasses in the bitter cold.
I wonder if that wolf was a little more hungry if my rifle would have worked.

 

[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.

The fact that the PH and the rest of the staff had left camp makes me wonder if that there wasn't a setup of some kind.

I wasn't told the name of the safari company.

 

[Ontario Hunter]

I was hunting by myself in the remote and unpopulated Saskatchewan river delta. Late season moose, mid-December. It had just snowed, knee deep and fluffy, and was very very cold, -42° that morning when I set out walking from my overnight camp. The kind of cold that hurts inside if you breathe too deeply. There was no hint of wind. I was making good time, slogging through heavy snow and trying to cut a moose track, when I found a big, lone wolf track instead. Decided to follow it.
A few hundred meters along, the track started to curve, and with no moose tracks to keep me occupied I followed it around. I eventually cut my own track, with the wolf track on top of mine. the wolf was now following me ... Time to reassess the situation.
So I circled in a wide arc, and picked up the wolf's track again, and tried to set up an ambush. There was hardly any sound in the bush, just the odd crack of a distant tree trunk exploding from the pressure of frozen sap in its trunk, and the groan of thick ice shifting in the river channel. The snow was too soft to reveal the sound of a moving animal. But it hid the sound of my steps too.
I couldn't wait long in the intense cold, so after a few minutes when the wolf didn't show up, I set out once more, making my way through the thick willows and spruce in a big arc in the opposite direction. But I had an odd feeling, and on a hunch, backtracked for a bit, then turned in the opposite direction and around back behind a dense bluff of stunted spruce where I again intercepted my own track. The wolf's tracks were on mine again.
So I tried my best several times to backtrack, cautiously circle and intercept, but no luck. He always knew I was there, figured out my next move, avoided me, and continued his pursuit. Unseen and unheard. This continued for several hours and several kilometers.
I never did catch up to him, and if he did actually see me, he must have been more curious than hungry. At least that's what I tell myself. It was kinda humbling. He was much better at this game than I was.
The next morning, I was back at it again, actually following a moose track this time when a pair of whitetail deer jumped out of a clump of willows and crossed a tiny meadow in front of me. I swung my .308 like a shotgun, and pressed the trigger when the crosshairs passed the nose of the first one. Click. jacked out the cartridge and tried on the buck following. Boom. He skidded on his nose and piled up snow in front of him. I fished the defective cartridge out of the snow. The primer was barely dented. Later, back by my campfire I found out that the oil in the firing pin mechanism had turned into something like molasses in the bitter cold.
I wonder if that wolf was a little more hungry if my rifle would have worked.

For those south of the border, F and C thermometers cross paths at -42. Coldest I have hunted moose, also solo, was -30 C. Sprained ankle can kill you in those conditions. Simply cannot stop moving or I'm dead.

 

[Whit]

The fact that the PH and the rest of the staff had left camp makes me wonder if that there wasn't a setup of some kind.

I wasn't told the name of the safari company.

That is indeed a bit suspicious. Confirmed they left early?

 

[PrechtlM98]

Nice thread, just remembered a hunt for freshwatercrocodiles in the Northern Territory
arround the year 2003. I had the chance to do some practical work experience during my
agricultural studies on a crocfarm in Australia. The owner got the licence to take 100 freshies
from a billabong. We were four people at that hunting trip, driving some hours from Darwin
with two trucks and a skiff. At the billabong we prepared our camp and got ready for the night.

During daylight there was hardly any croc to spot, but as the night comes eyes were everywhere
the torches moved. The hunt was pretty simple, point the torch to the eyes of a croc, approach slowly with the boat and shoot with the 22.lr from the shortest distance up to the crocs ear. 22.lr were used
to cause no damage to the leather. Once the shot hit the ear, the croc is dead imediatly (mostely) and one of the crew has to grab it.

First night we took arroud 50 freshies and filled up the icebins pretty quick. The rest of the night we slept near the billabong and drove back to the farm to process the crocs, just to go nighthunting again.
Next night is was harder to get them and so we had to pass through a small channel to get into the next billabong. The channel was so shallow that one guy had to get into the water to push the skiff by hand.

That night brought arround 30 freshies, harder to get, farer to shoot and sometimes one guy had to jump into the water to retrieve the croc.

Night number three was the one who makes me ask myself if the Aussies are just f****g crazy ore maybe got a deathwish?
We accomplished the 100 freshies, but at the end of the night there were also two salties (wich should not exist in that area) in the boat. Just a little more than three meters (already enough to kill you), but who knows if grandma is not arround?
It was an unbelievable experience and I'm very thankful that I had the chance to do that, but the last night I did not feel very well to sleep on my swag, now maybe 50m away from the shore, knowing there are salties and the shore is covered with blood....

 

[BJH65]

Helped a friend build on off grid cabin on his 500 acres when we lived in NW Montana, in exchange he gave me hunting rights. His property was surrounded by both state land and Lolo national forest. It was an excellent archery elk hunting spot.

During hunting season I’d drive to the forest service gate, he had an easement and gave me a key to the locked gate, and I would unlock the gate, drive through, and then get out and re-lock it before driving on to access his property.

Once after a day of hunting, it was pitch dark when I left, and when I drove to the gate, got out and unlocked it then drove through, stopped and relocked the gate, got back inside my rig, an extremely large mountain lion walked by directly in front of my rig! It had been watching me the whole time I was outside unlocking and locking the gate, probably 10 yards away, well concealed in the brush!

For awhile every time I left at night, I had my hand on my Glock 10mm and scanned the area with my flashlight while leaving! I have encountered 4 mountain lions in my lifetime but no doubt I have been watched more than once by mountain lions while out hunting, fishing and hiking.

They are a beautiful, stealthy and incredibly powerful animal, able to take down a bull elk. Thankfully, they are generally shy and reclusive of humans. While similar in size, they don’t have the temperament of a leopard, could you imagine the body count they would rack here up if they did?

Trail cam photo of 3 mountain lions behind our place in NW Montana before we moved to Oklahoma. Most likely a female and her 2 near adult juveniles.

 

[Safari Dave]

That is indeed a bit suspicious. Confirmed they left early?

I can't confirm that they left early, just going off of what one fellow told me.

 

[Hillbilly Marine]

My weirdest, spookiest hunting encounter involved no critters at all. It was in 1980, I was 15, and the day after Thanksgiving. The hills and hollers of West Virginia are full of tales of "haints" and "boogers" and our family farm hillside contained a "haint" as my Grandmother told it. A "haint" could be anything from a ghost to an alien because, as my grandfather once told me that you"haint got no idea what it is."

Anyway, I was way back on towards the top of the hill at least an hour before sunup, and it started raining. Not a real heavy rain but a misty, soaking, cold, miserable rain. Just about daylight I heard thunder from way off but really didn't pay any heed to it because of echos in those hills make thunder last forever. Then KABOOM!! there is a lightning strike about 120 yards down the hill from me. That scared me silly but it was just the start.

Rolling up the hill towards me was a glowing orb. Now I was raised on stories of supernatural happenings told to me by grandparents and older folks so, in my shocked state from the lightning strike, I was sure that some spirit was after me. I was to scared to move and to scared to stand still so I stood there, shaking and praying while this thing was floating towards me and then, like a ghost, it disappeared with no noise whatsover. About the time it disappeared i got my wits about me and i took off down the hill towards the house hollering and moving about the speed of sound trying my dammest to get away from that "haint"!

I told Daddy what had happened, and he damn near pissed himself laughing as he knew exactly what had happened as he had seen the phenomenon before. Now I had heard of "ball lightning," but I had never seen it, and that is what I had seen, just an electroplasma resulting from the lightning strike in an area that was already electrically charged. Receiving fire from unfriendly forces n the Marine Corps wasn't near as scary as that day and I survived it with a good tale and the starts of my gray hair.

Sent from my SM-T738U using AfricaHunting mobile app

 

[Rubberhead]

I know better, but I left the landing on the Folly River (real name not a made up name, although it is very apropos) with a heavy wind. The wind was blowing with the tide so no problem. I shot one duck hunting across high tide. On the way back the wind was blowing against the tide. I can hardly talk about it but I would have felt safer facing an elephant with a fly swatter. I think only the Grace of God got me back to the hill instead of spilling me in the river.

 

[cajunchefray]

All of mine came from the same hunt. My adventure of a lifetime in Botswana in 2023.

I "knew" to be afraid of elephants, especially cows, but I didn't "know" it down deep. I'd dreamed of elephant, but had never been on foot with elephant before. First 3 days were calm, we approached several bulls but we never got in their face or pushed anything. Day 4 started off on a bull trail, which was eventually lost on hard ground as we got close to some pans. So we continued down to the pans and surprised a bull at close range. He backed off, then mock charged twice with full vocal effects. Lots of adrenaline, but not really spooked. But starting to learn to fear elephants.

Left that pan, and just had time to calm down and get complacent on the trail, and ran smack dab into two young bulls. I was third in line and following and suddenly the trackers and my PH took off running in opposite directions. I followed the PH, one bull ran, and the other came close enough to see us then ran too. Again, not spooky, but several moments of adrenaline until I was able to figure out what was going on.

Back on a trail, mile after mile. Calm and getting tired. Pretty thick cover now, and suddenly the Trackers stop and point to our right, and there is a cow dusting just 20-25 yards to our right. We step out again and literally take two steps and hear a snore, and then an elephant calf jumps up to our LEFT at less than 10 yards and starts running. We're immediately running too, and the calf is running parallel to us. I now FEAR elephants. A calf that luckily remained silent, running, and we're already in the middle of the herd. Heart in throat, adrenaline overload, it feels like any moment this situation is going to get downright murderous. I'm 4 in line behind two trackers and the PH, and the game scout is behind me. He's unarmed and in such fear that he starts pushing me down to try to get in front and farther away

I now know what it's like to fear elephants. But day 4 isn't over. We relocated eventually and walk in to check some pans. We get in and there's two mature but non-trophy bulls that are fighting. Normally we wouldn't worry too much about mature bulls, but these were aggressive, maybe in musth. And they start to push each other towards the pan where we are. PH feels it prudent to cut the wind and dodge them. Which we do. And run smack into a cow herd heading to the pan. Fortunately the otherworldly trackers spot the cows before we're spotted, and we dodge them. Running again. Downwind. Dodging between the two groups of elephants.

I'm now hooked and love this. The adrenaline and fear is intoxicating. And I've picked up an especial fear of the cow herds. We would dance with them several more times. I think it was day 8 or 9 when we finally caught up with a group of 3 bulls that we'd been following for 10+ miles. They had picked a shady patch to spend the midday, and unbeknownst to us, they'd met up in the shade with a cow herd, and 11 other bulls. We were close to the bulls and were working in slowly when all hell breaks loose and the cow herd gets our wind and starts running away. At the same time there are unalarmed bulls walking around and we're trying to get in for judging. The feeling was almost surrounded by elephant. We're trying to see all the bulls, and the matriarch of the cow herd is coming BACK. We can't see her, but she's trumpeting and screaming and growling and very clearly getting closer. That growl they can do is chilling. We finally get a look at all bulls, most mature but none the right bull, and we get the hell out of there. Not being able to see the matriarch, but hearing her come closer, was probably even scarier than running from the middle of the cow herd that we could see.

I wanna go back

Excellent write up. I want to be there. Thank you.

 

[Ridge Runner]

I had a real hair-raising one last December, but that story will have to hold over for now........

Back in 1989, we were hunting in a real remote part of the African savannah, 3 days drive from any civilisation, late season so it was pretty hot already, a 30 day Safari and on day 15 we ran totally out of Beer.
Now that was hair raising and spooky.........

That sounds like an emergency situation. Wonder if @Global Rescue would do an emergency air drop of a resupply of beer and plenty of ice.