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A most memorable hunting experience !

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I'll go first,My grandpa in 1983 had a permit to shoot from his vehicle. He was hunting first weekend bucks only, my dad and I hunted the 2 day buck/doe pending your luck drawing a doe tag, remember when those meant more than anything. Anyway, my dad and I come driving up toward grandpa to check on him in his big ford LTD car. A mature buck was standing within 15 yards of his car, we stopped it spooked so we asked him did you see that monster ? He said yes, when he put his gun out the window the clip fell out to the ground and he didn't get a bullet in. He said " darn thing got so close to the car I couldn't hardly open the door or it would've spooked. We got grandpa an extra clip for x-mas that year. He said he was scrambling for a shell and etc. It was great hearing him tell the story. Little did I know that would be his last deer season, what a thankful memory to have.

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This isn't exactly hunting, but about 18years ago I was on my way home from school at NDSU when I hit a nice 8 point buck with my pickup. Its head hit right on the front bumper spinning its rear end into my door. Well I hated to see the deer go to waste and I had had a couple beers at the turf after class so I decided not to call it in and wait. I grabbed the deer by the antlers and not so much as a twitch. I put it in the back of my truck thinking I would deal with it when I got home (25min). After about 2 miles I see a see a confused looking deer raise its head and it starts to stand up. I think it realized how fast we were moving and how slippery the bed liner was and it sat back down. I didn't know how bad it was hurt or if I would have to finish it off so I kept driving. The deer slides forward and is riding with its head around the corner of the pickup like a big dog and rides there till I get all the way home to my driveway. Then it decides as I slow down 10 mph is slow enough to jump. It tumbles a couple times gets up runs 100 yards without so much a lime turns looks at me and starts running again leaving me with a confused look on my face and a banged up truck.

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Jeff That has to be a true story--nobody could make that up. I loved it.

On the 1st story--Confession time--I did the exact same thing. Now I'm old but not 83 and I don't have a permit to shoot outta the vehicle. In Ontario you don't have to have your gun cased but it can't be loaded and you darn sure can't shoot from inside the vehicle. This happened more than 30 years ago but I remember it like it was yesterday. I'm slowly rolling down an old bush road when I see a big beautful buck standing over yonder in the tag alders looking right at me. I know he's gonna bolt just as soon as I open the door. So very slowly I put the clip in the ole .303 an slide it out the winder. Look both ways to make sure nobody's coming--reach up and slowly pull the bolt back. Clip falls out on the ground.

Serves me right and I shoulda got a ticket.

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this yr will probally be the most memerable to come.

I took my 12 yr old son on his first hunt and we hadf a chunk of private land a sewn up at least thats what I thought. friday while scouting out some secondary spots the bro inlaw of the guy that own the place we were staying at stoped by and left a note that he would be there in the morning to hunt. I called him up and told him that I was with my son on his first hunt and going to hunt on the back part of the property and he blew up at me on the phone. saying that I had no right being there and this was his property(well I knew differnt) so I let him rant for 15min then I said that hey I'm not here to ruin your hunt so I will hit some state land with my son. My son hereing the conversation said you know dad your being the better man about this. so the next morning just as we were heading out to the truck the bro inlaw stops and starts reading me the riot act again and I said what is your problem I'm not even going to hunt in this area. we just left and went hunting we seen deer just no shots and my son and I still laugh about this guy almost crying and whineing about how we ruined his hunt.

We sat in the woods and enjoyied natures finest and problly had the best time I've ever had with my son.

the guy that whined to his sister and she called my buddy and told him what happened and my buddy called my son and myself and aploigzed about it and told me that his bro inlaw is no longer welcome there again.

Morel of the story: whatch who you whine to cusae it will return to bite you in the butt.

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2007 I took my 2 boys 7 & 9 to sit with me on a friday night. It wasn't that cold but with the youngsters I decided to hunker down next to a round bale in the grass near a large swamp. We had been out about 2 hours going on 4:30 when the younger one is getting restless. He wanted to go home I told him it was getting to prime time & we had to wait. 15 minutes later I see a doe coming out of the swamp 30 yards away, our party had enough does already & I was waiting for ol' mossy horns, I put my arm across the boys & whispered that a deer was coming. They did a great job of holding still. She came within 10 yards of us & didn't know we were there. You could count her eyelashes she was so close. We let her walk off & the boys started breathing again, they both forgot about time, wind or anything else. They still talk about that doe that daddy just watched. Ol' Mossy horns never showed up but it was a great night. They are hooked.

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Lots of great stories to tell. Been doing this hunting thing for awhile. Pretty much any good memeory starts with my Dad or uncles. The story plays out through the years. When I started, they would put me on a stump or in a tree stand and tell me stay put, and that if I shot a deer they would be back to help me gut and drag. Now, 20 years later, I'm putting them up in tree stands and telling them to stay put, and that if they shoot a deer, I'll be there to help them drag and gut. My son is 1.5 years Old right now, and I'm not looking forward to that day, but maybe he will be able to do the same for me some day.

Some memorabe hunts.

Shooting my first big 160 inch buck in 2007.

Missing similar bucks in 2005, and 2006.

Getting staked out by an owl.

Getting the [PoorWordUsage] scared out of me by a flying squirrel

Having to tap a young coon on the head because every time I'd hit the turkey call he'd try and crawl on me, this went on 4 or 5 different times. Never saw a turkey but I still laugh about it.

Finally, one of the funniest memories that I have is when my Dad was having a tough time hitting anything with his new gun. He had missed a couple of nice does with it on stand and was struggling. After contemplation of what to do because it was snowing and freezing rain, we decided to do a deer drive. My brother and I were nudging deer to my Dad and uncles, A nice doe runs in front of him and he shoots and it drops. I get to Dad first and he is happy about how he redeemed himself. I get to work and start gutting it. About 10 minutes later, my brother walks up and thanks me for gutting my deer. My Dad looks at him and asks what he is talking about. Turns out he shot the deer on the drive, (we heard him shoot) and he had been following the blood trail. Dad of course thought that he had finished it off, but upon inspection, one hole. Dad never hit it, we give him [PoorWordUsage] about that every year. It was pretty hysterical at the time.

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I was sitting in my tree stand during the archery deer season a few years back. I was watching a hawk flying around and landing in trees, just doing his hawk thing. Then I heard the crunching of leaves. I looked and there went this cotton tail rabbit running for his life as he was being chased by a pine marten. Both the rabbit and marten disappeared from view. The hawk must've wanted a piece of that action as it flew in the same direction as the rabbit and marten.

Moments later I heard a little whining and I figured that the marten must have caught itself a rabbit meal. Moments later I noticed the marten coming back towards me with a rabbit in its mouth. Man what a thrill!

Well, this marten dragged that rabbit to a dead tree not 5 yards from where I was sitting in my tree stand. He started climbing this dead tree with the rabbit in his mouth. He got about 3 feet off the ground and dropped the rabbit. He repeated this same climb and drop thing two more times. I'm watching all this from 5 yards away!

The marten gave up and moved to a large broken branch laying on the ground about 5 feet away. He dragged that rabbit and literally stuffed it under the branch. He proceeded to grab leaves and grass to conceal the rabbit. He literally stepped back, looked over his hidden booty as if he was checking it to make sure that it couldn't be seen. He wasn't satisfied so he covered it up with more leaves and grasses until he was satisfied.

He then bounced over to the base of another tree that is no more than 10 feet beside mine. He climbed up that tree to about my level, stopped and noticed this big, funny looking thing in the next tree. He stared at me then opened his mouth, showed his teeth and hissed. I'm thinking that little beggar is going to attack me! He turned tail, scampered back down the tree and took off into the bush.

It is easily the most memorable hunting incident of my life; that didn't include family or friends!

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Here are a couple stories from my hunting shack that has been in the family for generations.

My grandfather and his brother were driving back on an old logging road (late 1950's) with a nice buck strapped on the back of a truck. They did not put a tag on the deer, as the shack was about 10 miles away in the middle of no-where (they left their tags in the shack).

Around a corner they find a conservation officer sleeping in his vehicle blocking the road. He gets out and checks the deer; was cursing them for not having a tag. Well, my grandfather had his rifle in a "holding rack" in the truck. The officer grabbed it and said "I suppose this is loaded too"; the officer pulled the trigger with the rifle pointing up. Blew a hole in the roof (imagine the sound inside a car).

Another one:

Around 1965-1968; my uncle brought some M&M's to the shack for snacks. This is when the packaging was paper - well, my uncle would walk/stalk around the woods eating M&M's and throw the wrappers on the ground.

Another uncle kept coming across these M&M wrappers and got [PoorWordUsage] that someone was not sharing. Over the course of the day he was really mad.

The first uncle found some moose dung and did not know what it was - so he put it in an empty M&M wrapper. Back at the shack, after indulging in some nightly refreshments Uncle D pulls out the M&M wrapper with the dung; before he could say anything the Uncle W. grabs the wrapper and says "your the son of a b who is not sharing" and proceeds down special M&M's. Uncle D is on the ground laughing while uncle w is chewing smile

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Opening Day. Just thinking the words quickened the pulse and tightened the stomach of the Deer Hunter. Opening Day 2002 was November ninth. That was a little late by Minnesota standards. But, it was perfect by the charts: the rut peak average was November eighth, the new moon was November sixth, the Minnesota deer herd was at near record levels.

The Old Woods Walker was talked into joining the Deer Hunter for their 30th season together. The Deer Hunter wasn’t the one that talked him into it, however; it was the Newcomers, the Deer Hunter’s three daughters. The Old Woods Walker wasn’t too excited by the prospects for himself. Time was catching up with him. He was uncertain whether he could make the trek to his favorite stand. Rather, he planned to find a stump near the lodge and wait for his granddaughters to shoot. The Newcomers had a different plan; they borrowed a pop-up ground blind, cut a shooting lane, and put a comfortable chair inside.

Opening morning came dark and dreary. As the Deer Hunter and the Newcomers prepared to leave into the night, the Old Woods Walker was just rising. After a short walk, the Deer Hunter and Newcomers stopped by the Big Pine for a quick prayer for a safe and fun day. The Deer Hunter quietly deposited the Newcomers into their stands: Daughter 1 into grandpa’s stand, Daughter 2 into the hill stand, and Daughter 3 in swamp stand 1. The Deer Hunter settled into the swamp stand 2. He was close to Daughter 3, as this was her first season.

It was struggling to get daylight. At first, every shadow caught the Deer Hunter’s attention. Then the age-old routine began: look and wait. The Old Woods Walker got into his blind. Suddenly at 7:22 AM there was a shot. Was that Daughter 2? There were two more shots. That definitely was her. The Deer Hunter turned on the walkie-talkie: “Dad?”


“Come quick! I shot a big buck. I’m going to pee my pants.”

The Deer Hunter took the camera and left his rifle in the stand. I’ll be back in less than a half hour, he thought. Not ten paces from the stand, he heard two quick shots that had to be from the Old Woods Walker’s Remington 7600. As he crossed the logs to get through the swamp, daughter 1 shot once. The walkie-talkie crackled, “Dad?”


“I shot one. It ran off. But I had a

good shot.”

“I’ll be there in a while.”

It now was 7:30 AM. The Deer Hunter was coming to the hill stand. Daughter 2 was dancing around in the stand. The Deer Hunter watched as she unloaded her rifle and lowered it to him. After she climbed down and reloaded, he let her lead him to her buck. What a buck it was: long brow tines, tall G2 and G3’s; it had to be over 200 pounds. While pictures were being taken, the Old Woods Walker shot again. The Deer Hunter and the Newcomer headed quickly toward him. The Newcomer saw him first. As she ran toward him and saw his buck, she couldn’t contain her excitement, “Grandpa, I shot a big one, too!”

The Old Woods Walker’s buck was a large eight pointer also, shorter than his granddaughter’s rack, but heavy and dark. The deer was easily 200 pounds. While they were shaking hands, Daughter 1’s voice crackled on the walkie-talkie, “There’s a buck; should I shoot?”

Before anyone could answer she said, “Too late, he’s gone.” The Deer Hunter field dressed the Old Woods Walker’s deer. The Old Woods Walker headed back to the lodge for coffee as the Deer Hunter and Newcomer went to Daughter 1.

Daughter 1 stayed in her stand and guided the Deer Hunter and Newcomer to where her deer had stood. Quickly they found some hair. Daughter 1 joined them and pointed down a trail where she thought the deer had run. The three spread out and slowly followed the trail. After 50 yards or so, they could find no sign. They circled and returned to sight of the hit. Daughter 2 got on her hands and knees and crawled around looking for sign.

Eventually she found some blood. A good sign. The Deer Hunter’s instincts told him the deer was dead. The three decided to first field dress Daughter 2’s buck. When they returned, they scoured every inch of the woods for 400 yards in the direction the deer had run. No luck. Dejectedly the three sat and ate a sandwich. The Deer Hunter thought. The Newcomers were quiet and obviously disappointed. The Deer Hunter looked at the trail the deer had been on; there was a scrape by where it was hit. The trail continued on past the stand and near where they had walked. He said, “It must have gone this way.”

“But Dad, it didn’t run by me.”

The Deer Hunter Walked down the trail anyway. He went about 100 yards, and there lay the deer. The Deer Hunter yelled for his daughters,

“I found it.”

“What is it?”

“Another eight pointer!”

“That must be the buck that

walked by me!”

The girls hustled over. Daughter 1’s buck was younger than the other two, but just as beautiful. The three hugged and gave high-fives. They field dressed the deer and went to the lodge. They met up with the Old Woods Walker who was by now nervous and glad to see them. After shedding some clothes, they hitched a wagon to the old Ford 9N and collected the bucks. As they loaded them into the back of the truck to take to town to register, the Deer Hunter told the Old Woods Walker he should buy his granddaughters’ breakfast.

The Deer Hunter wanted badly to go along and listen to the three of them chatter, but he knew it was their time… not his. Besides, Daughter 3 was still in her stand. He grabbed a couple of pops and headed back to the swamp. He was amazed when he walked to the stand and there she was, waiting patiently. He climbed into the stand and drank a pop with his daughter. Daughter 3 was determined she would stay until dark. The Deer Hunter left.

By the time he finally settled back into his stand and got his rifle, it was 1:00 PM. He smiled to himself and thought of how his prayer had been answered. Yes, he wanted Daughter 3 to get a deer. And yes, he would like to shoot a monster buck…but three eight pointers by 7:30 AM? Incredible!

The game started again. Look and wait. Wait and look. Near dark the deer hunter finally saw a deer. Not a buck...but was it a doe that a buck could be following? No, just a fawn. He thought he had better go to collect Daughter 3 and go in. Yes, she had seen the fawn also, but she wanted to wait, “It’s just opening day Dad. I’ve got the rest of the season. And if I don’t get one then, I’ve got the rest of my life.” The Deer Hunter swelled with pride, 12 years old and knowing so much!

The next day was another dark morning. The three that had gotten their deer were not too motivated. The Deer Hunter and Newcomers left in the dark. The morning came and went. Everyone went in for breakfast. At 10:30 AM Daughter 3 was raring to go. The Deer Hunter and she went back out. The game began again. Look and wait. Wait and look. Hour after hour. The Deer Hunter saw something, a buck. He wondered how it got that close. It was a nice four pointer. He didn’t even pick up his rifle. He wondered why this was so easy. He had never let a legal buck walk by before. But, he contentedly let it walk by. He even smiled. At dark he collected Daughter 3. Yes, she had seen the buck also. But, she thought it was that fawn again at first and it was on top of her before she knew she wanted to shoot. Then it saw her and ran off. “He’ll be back tomorrow, Dad.” After 20 hours on the stand and she was still upbeat.

The third morning found the deer hunter and Daughter 3 up early. The Old Woods Walker had gone home. Daughter 1 was back at college. And Daughter 2 slept in. After three hours of look and wait, the hunters went in for breakfast. They spent the rest of the day butchering deer.

The next three days the hunters were back at school and work. Daughter 3 went out to the meat stand every night after school and saw nothing. The weather brought snow two of the days. The fourth morning dawned clear and cold. The Deer Hunter was back in the swamp stand. Daughter 2 was in the hill stand, and Daughter 3 was in grandpa’s stand. The Deer Hunter was feeling the cold when a shot rang out. He turned the walkie-talkie on. Daughter 2 said,



“I shot a buck. I think it was a six or an eight pointer.

But it ran.”

“Which way did it go?”

“Down toward the swamp.”

“I’ll wait 15 minutes before I come to you.”

The Deer Hunter got an apple out and ate it. The time passed slowly. Fifteen minutes finally went by. The Deer Hunter slowly moved toward the hill stand. As soon as he crossed the swamp he saw a doe. She looked uninjured so he didn’t attempt a shot. He continued walking. As he rounded a corner there lay the buck, right smack in the middle of the trail. He called Daughter 2 on the radio, “Can you see me?”


“Well, I see your deer.”

Daughter 2 came quickly down the hill. This was only the third deer she had ever shot. It was a nice fork horn. His rack was tall and wide. Her father happily took more pictures. They collected Daughter 3 and gladly dragged the deer to the lodge.

There were only two days left of the season. Daughter 3 was trying her best. She was getting weary and it was cold, so she could not sit as long. The next morning she fell asleep in the meat stand and fell out. Thank goodness it was only six feet to the ground!

The last day of the season was a little warmer. The Deer Hunter and the three Newcomers all went hunting. The game of wait and look was getting tiring. They all went in for breakfast. Daughter 3 went back hunting; the others butchered the last buck.

There were many close shots. The neighbors were making drives. Suddenly a lone shot rang out, very close. The Deer Hunter ran out of the garage. The Newcomers scrambled for a walkie-talkie. Daughter 3’s voice came in loud and clear, “I shot one!”

The scramble of orange rushing into the woods made the squirrels laugh. Daughter 3 was shaking and dancing in her stand. “It was right down there!” The other three went towards the spot. The Deer Hunter spotted it. It was dead: another clean kill. “Here it is!” Before he finished the words, Daughter 3 jumped out of the stand. She came running. The Deer Hunter remembered his first deer as his daughter stroked hers. It was a nubbin buck, but for the family it was Boone and Crocket. The season was over. Five bucks for five hunters.

The Deer Hunter replayed the season many times over the next few weeks. He couldn’t believe it. Not the five deer. Determination and luck can make any hunter successful. Rather, the fact that he had had his best deer season ever and he never aimed his rifle at a deer. He realized that hunting is a lot more than shooting a deer.

A Lesson Learned.

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The one that makes me laugh over and over. Me and a freind where hunting in both sides of a large clover field. I could here a noise so I started glassing him in his stand. he was puking off his stand. He forgot to spit his chew out before he got to his stand so he gulped it down then started to puke. Why I laugh is like 20 minutes after all this goes down a huge doe comes in down wind and starts sniffing the pile of stuff. he shot that doe plus another doe a hour later that also came in down wind and sniffed the pile of puke. So the joke is when in doubt puke up some copenhagen and pancakes they come right on in.

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Heres a classic this is one of my dads! My dads old hunting buddy used forever a double barrel 10 gage for deer hunting. He wanted nockdown power. Well he had this stand right next to the river he sat in every day all all season. Well the third day in stand a buck came through now this was the year they reopened the deer season here after they closed it for that two year period. So he was a little pumped to see this buck and his heart was just racing as he told my dad so he went to pull the trigger and pulled them both. blew him out of the stand and in the river. When my dad found him he was still laying in the river in shock so he helped him out and they tracked the deer it didn't go to far cause it had two perfect hole side by side right through the vitals. I would have love to seen that one.

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I have only been deer hunting two years to my best memory is my first deer last year. It was the last day of the slug season and i was with a family friend and we drove past another one of our friends grove and sure enough there is a group of deer standing on the edge so we decide to do a drive. So i run to the end of the grove with was about 8 or 900 yards long but i had to run in kind of a half circle because of barns and old pens. So i get to the end and stand about 15 yards from the corner and after what felt like an hour the deer started to run off the edge the mother doe and one fawn kept running strait but another fawn turned right on the corner and ran right at me. I shot it at about 5 yrds it went through the chest and out the other end. and that was my first deer a small button buck

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