Funny Hunting Stories, Let's hear yours.

[Ed of all trades]

Let's hear your "funny" hunting stories. Keep them clean, remember young folks are on here too. Make it stories that you were there, not I know a guy that knows a guy......... Don't have to be the funniest thing, just "funny". I'll start

A few of us teen aged boys were rabbit hunting with 22's and the only dog we had was Peanut, a little noodle dog. We jumped a rabbit in an old grown up field and all shot at it as it ran and missed it by a mile. the rabbit ran into a ground hog hole and peanut went in after it. We all ran up to the hole and heard something growl and then heard peanut yep. The next thing that happened was the rabbit came out of the hole at top speed. Peanut was right after it with two tooth marks on his nose. That is the only time I ever heard a rabbit growl. Ed

OK I set the bar kinda low but I know some of you guys can top that with your lips tied behind your back, so lets hear them Ed

 

[EddieWalker]

Not very funny at the time, but looking back on it, we both get a laugh.

A buddy and I went to Alaska to hunt moose and caribou on our own. The outfitter flew us out to a small pond, dropped us off and then would fly over us every couple of days to see if we had something in camp. I had shot a really nice caribou the first day and after not seeing anything for the next couple of days, we where moved to another area that was better for moose. Seems like the caribou wondered off and there wasn't any point waiting for them to come back.

This new spot was in a much more hilly area with ridges going every which way. We where glassing from the ridge tops looking for moose without much luck until late in the evening. There where two large bulls fighting in a clearing about a mile away. It was thick pines all the way there, but we figure that would be great for us to sneak through to get there. By the time we got to where we thought the moose where, they where long gone and it was getting dark.

We headed back to the ridge we had been glassing from, which was also just above where our camp was set up. When we got there, it was dark out. When looking down the other side, we knew right away that the pond next to our camp was not the pond we where looking at. The question was which way where we off? A funny thing about Alaska is that a compass is almost worthless. Same thing with watching the sun, it rises and sets in almost the same place!!!!! We decided to try going left. While walking, my flashlight bulb burned out, so we just had the one flashlight. This proved to be more of a challenge then we had expected, but after several hours, we got to where we could see down into the next draw and see that the pond down there wasn't it either.

by now it was after midnight, we where both wore out and clueless where camp was. We started a fire and settled in for the night. Since we had been hiking in hip boots, our socks where soaking wet. We took them off and set them around the fire to dry off. Sometime after that I woke up to my buddy screaming FIRE as our socks burned up. Nothing to do but go back to sleep and wait for sunrise.

Once we could see, we realized that we where one draw away from our camp. The hike was terrible without socks, but we lived. After a good breakfast, we went back out looking for moose, but only saw cows and small ones. We did have one very young bull walk down the trail in front of us and we had to get off the trail as he passed. I didn't try, but I was close enough to touch him. Not sure if he was so into the rut that he didn't care, or he just didn't care because he had never seen humans before. Either way, it was one of those things that only happen when out hunting that only those who have been there will understand.

 

[oosik]

A friend & I were on our usual fall moose hunting trip in AK. He had just purchased a new Chevy P/U and we decided to take it on this hunt. We went to the Nabesna Rd which is about half way between Anchorage and Fairbanks. Its just a one lane dirt road - goes off the paved highway about 45 miles and we were in about 25 miles. Coming around a corner - there was a large bull moose right in the center of the road. We honked, revved the engine, etc to get him out of the road. Because the snow was fairly deep and the road had huge berms - this moose was not about to leave the road.

We stopped and decided if he wasn't going to leave the road - he would look mighty good in the freezer. As soon as we stopped the truck, he became very agitated, turned and charged the truck. He crashed into the grill, driving it back into the radiator and the radiator back into the fan.

We ended up with no moose & a completely disabled truck. The temperature at the time was -20F and dropping, as evening was approaching. Have you ever tried to sleep in the front seat of a pickup? It was one miserable night - the hunting trip was ruined - it took two days to get the truck back to Anchorage.

We did learn one thing - you can't herd a moose like you can a cow.

 

[PILOON]

Went deer hunting one fall at a supposedly good location.
Woke up with about 4" of snow on our tent.
3 days and no deer but we saw some ducks on the lake so we decided to add duck to the menu.
Darn duck dropped into deepish water but we managed to retrieve by wading in freezing water and using a pole.
Nicely roasted over an open fire we salivated waiting to taste it.
Well that was the most the most awful tasting bird ever.
Dang duck was a merganser and tasted like week old rotted fish..
We never did see any deer but it was some good wilderness camping except for the roast duck.

 

[Ed of all trades]

When I was young we would have a big group of family and friends over to the farm to deer hunt. Everyone would bring their hounds and we would make 3 or 4 drives in the morning and the same between lunch and dark. It was great fun, there would be this big "argument" about what piece of woods to drive and then another on where everyone was going to stand, and who would go with the dogs. Of course the arguments were all done with smiles on their faces and some good natured ribbing. We were all eating lunch together in a field about 1/2 mi from the house and the Game Warden drove up. It was the custom for the Game Warden to check everyone's licence during lunch so he would not have to bother us when we were on a stand. Just as he was finishing up with our licence check someone saw two deer in the field about 400 yd's away. That was before scopes and we could not tell if ether of them had a rack. The Game Warden pulled out a pair of bionoculars that were about a foot long and said the closest one is a buck. My dad pulled out his British 303 and slid up the adjustable sight, streached out on the ground and shot. The Game Warden jumped into his car with a funny look on his face and said "I think I hear someone breaking the law on the other side of the county." and drove off. Dad had shot over the top of the buck and killed the doe! The Game Warden knew it was a mistake and let it go. He was a good old boy and would not put up with people breaking the law but this was just one of those things. Ed

 

[2LaneCruzer]

When I was about 13 years old, we lived in a small rural community in S.W. Missouri. I was of course in school, and the school was only about 200 yards to the East of our house, on the North side of the rural road. To the West and South of our house was nothing but woods and pasture. You could not see the road, nor any thing else in that direction, and I often hunted rabbits in that area. One morning, just before school, I spied a cotton tail rabbit a little South and to the West of the house. Fried rabbit dinner sounded really good at that time, so I got out my little Remington Targetmaster single shot and walked out into the pasture, pulled down on the rabbit and fired. At almost that exact moment, I heard a blood curdling scream from the direction that I fired.

I was almost paralyzed! My first thought was that I had shot one of the neighbor kids on his way to school. I ran into the house, put up my rifle, grabbed my books and out the front door. I ran down to the drive that came into the school and waited. I didn't have to wait but a couple of minutes, when I saw a guy on a bicycle pulling into the drive. His arm was hanging limp at his side, with blood dripping off the tip of one of his fingers. I nearly passed out. I just knew I was going to jail, or something worse. He rode up, and got off his bicycle; I couldn't keep my eyes off the dripping blood. "What happened?" I asked. He said, "Oh, I pinched my hand in my bicycle seat and cut the crap out of it." I breathed a sigh of relief...a big sigh; big relief.

 

[Ed of all trades]

When I was about 13 years old, we lived in a small rural community in S.W. Missouri. I was of course in school, and the school was only about 200 yards to the East of our house, on the North side of the rural road. To the West and South of our house was nothing but woods and pasture. You could not see the road, nor any thing else in that direction, and I often hunted rabbits in that area. One morning, just before school, I spied a cotton tail rabbit a little South and to the West of the house. Fried rabbit dinner sounded really good at that time, so I got out my little Remington Targetmaster single shot and walked out into the pasture, pulled down on the rabbit and fired. At almost that exact moment, I heard a blood curdling scream from the direction that I fired.

I was almost paralyzed! My first thought was that I had shot one of the neighbor kids on his way to school. I ran into the house, put up my rifle, grabbed my books and out the front door. I ran down to the drive that came into the school and waited. I didn't have to wait but a couple of minutes, when I saw a guy on a bicycle pulling into the drive. His arm was hanging limp at his side, with blood dripping off the tip of one of his fingers. I nearly passed out. I just knew I was going to jail, or something worse. He rode up, and got off his bicycle; I couldn't keep my eyes off the dripping blood. "What happened?" I asked. He said, "Oh, I pinched my hand in my bicycle seat and cut the crap out of it." I breathed a sigh of relief...a big sigh; big relief.

I am glad I don't know what that feels like, I would still be shaking. Ed

 

[charlz]

My friends Grand Uncle had some acreage with a small cabin next to his Grand Father's ranch. We would stay in the cabin while hunting on the ranch. The cabin had started as a one-room affair, maybe 12'x12' or something. Somewhere along the line they added a 'bunk room' that was maybe 8x12 and had 3 bunks on one side and a wood stove on the other. The bottom bunk was a 'double' and the middle and top bunks were singles. Usually me and one of my friends ended up sharing the bottom bunk if we had more than 3 guys. We would sleep opposite ends so one guys head and then other guys feet at each end. Now this particular friend of mine slept like the dead and snored with the roar of some kind of mythical beast. We had been hunting and hiking all day so were very tired. Sometime after we went to bed and fell asleep he started in with the snoring and I would say something to him, nudge him whatever but it was not working to get him to stop snoring. Finally I took to whacking him on the bottom of his foot with a flashlight I kept next to the bunk. This got him to stop long enough for me to drift off but sometime later he would just start back up again and I would whack the bottom of his foot again. This repeated several times during the night.

The next morning I was up and making coffee/breakfast when he comes limping out of the bunk room. Him: "Man, I don't know what I did to my foot yesterday but it's sore!" Me: ":confused3:"

 

[charlz]

Same cabin, different story. We had gotten a new town cop who had moved from back East and brought along his son, Barry, who was our age and had started attending our high school. Come fall Barry wanted to do some hunting so we invited him up to the ranch/cabin to hunt with us for the weekend. First day we get to the cabin, settle in, do a bit of hunting, eat dinner etc. finally we are getting settled in for the night and Barry insists on sleeping in the top bunk. My friend Ryan was in the middle bunk and Skip and I were in the double bunk on bottom. Just about the time we were drifting off to sleep the coyotes started their nightly serenade.

Barry bolts up, as much as he can with maybe 2 feet of headroom between his bunk and the roof, "Whats that!!??"
"Coyotes" I tell him.
"Will they bother us?"
"Probably not, they sound like they are off a ways........ besides.... its mostly bears we have to worry about" I say with a grin.
"BEARS!!??" Barry sits up again. "There are BEARS here??!!"
"Of course, what do you think did all this damage to the end of the cabin?"

Now, when they built the bunk room on the end of the cabin it was added with 2x4 walls and they didn't bother with things like real windows or insulation. The 'windows' were clear plastic sheeting covered with chicken wire that started halfway along the wall opposite the bunks and then wrapped around the corner and came halfway along the other wall towards the bunks. In many places, through holes in the plastic and the wood 'siding', you could see straight outside. In winter the only way you didn't wake up a meatsicle was you had the pot belly wood stove so hot you could just about read a book by the glow

So I tell him a tale about how that used to be an all-wood wall but some guy had been staying up there alone and a bear ripped through the wall, killed him and dragged his body off into the woods. When they fixed the cabin they didn't bother putting all wood back up since it didn't slow the bear down anyway. The other guys jump in with stories about hunters being killed and eaten by our 'Giant Western Coyotes', bears, mountain lions etc. Couple times I scratch on the cabin wall and then hush everybody with a "Dija hear that?! Somethings outside!" Meanwhile the nearby coyotes are on the trail of something and are really yapping up a storm which just helps with the 'ambiance'

Then I say:

"By the way, if those coyotes decide to come after us that roof probably won't slow them down any, so if you hear something digging its way through get out of that bunk quick."
"WHAT??!!" Barry bolts up again.
"Yeah, I have my rifle right here so you need to get out of that bunk and then I can shoot up through the roof and kill whatever is up there." This time he comes flying out of his bunk, grabs his rifle, and starts pacing. He is visibly shaken and trying to get us to switch bunks with him. Now I am concerned we went too far... don't need anyone getting shot because this guy is so scared. So we get him calmed down and back in his bunk.

About the time I was drifting off to sleep Barry says:
"I gotta poop."
"What?"
"I gotta poop."
"Just go use the outhouse."

Now the outhouse is a good 50 yards outside the front door of the cabin back in some trees. The cabin was up in an area of tall pine trees so you have the noise of wind in the trees, the associated creaking and popping but also there were some other old cabins to the side that had mostly fallen in but some walls still stood etc. Walking around with a lantern at night could be creepy even if you weren't already scared... well... poopless

"I am not going to the outhouse!"
"What else are you going to do?"
"I am going to poop in the trashcan."
"I don't want to smell that. You are not going to poop in the trashcan, just go use the outhouse."
"I am not going to the outhouse so something can kill me and eat me while I am pooping! Just let me poop in the trashcan!"

This goes on for a while. Finally I convince him that he can poop a little ways outside the cabin door with a lantern cranked up bright and we stand guard with our rifles. We will bury the mess in the morning. So Skip stands guard outside the cabin door to the left and Ryan to the right. I am just inside the cabin door 'watching the center' and area behind Barry. We placed the lantern on the ground a few feet outside the door. This is an opportunity that I just cannot pass up, as Barry is creeping out to his pooping spot I whisper to Ryan to wait until he squats and then pop a couple of rounds into one of the old cabin logs and yell something about 'eyes'.

To this day I can still see the image when Ryan fired those shots off. Barry going from squat to bolt-upright instantaneously, eyes as big as dinner plates and face as white as the surrounding snow. Then, pants around his ankles, he flies toward the cabin, leaps over the lantern and dives through the door.

If he was wound up before he is really wound up now, shaking like a leaf, checking and re-checking that his rifle is loaded etc. Eventually we have to confess the truth to get him to calm down. The expletives that flew from him after that are not fit for printing here I sometimes wonder if Satan doesn't have a special place all warmed up for Ryan, Skip and I due to the fun we had at Barry's expense... but it sure was funny

 

[Luke'sScreenName]

Im crying.