Close encounter stories

[PossumSlayer]

I was hunting an old buck that was bedding in some real thick cover. I hunted the outskirts that morning and had planned on still hunting to the middle of the thicket during midday to bowhunt the rest of the day. I started working my way through the thicket with my stand and bow packed on my back. I was using my muzzleloader as I moved slowly to where I wanted to end up. A friend of mine had killed a mature buck off a different farm a few days before and let me take his tarsal glands, I was dragging them in as I went. I had the wind blowing across my face from right to left and planned on making a drag trail that would bring him in upwind of my tree I had pre-picked several weeks before. I had been taking my time and watched several deer working my way in making sure not to spook any. I was using hand pruners to cut my way slowly through some of the thicker areas and I reached a spot where I felt like if he was bedded in a certain spot he would smell me if I continued the direction I was traveling. I decided to rattle. I stood in that same spot for about 15 minutes after rattling when I thought I heard some footsteps. I had circled around a big thorn bush before rattling and the steps were coming down my scent line on the otherside of the bush. I would stand there for 10 to 15 minutes and I would hear a couple more steps and then nothing. I started to think it was a bird and then he would move a again 2 steps at a time stop and stand there. This went on for about 30-40 minutes and every time I couldn't hear him I would doubt what I heard. Eventually I could see the tips of his rack on the other side of the thorn bush I had circled around before rattling. But I couldn't tell what deer he was. I knew he was a huge bodied deer because he appeared to be taller than me. I was lucky I had brought my shooting stick because my muzzleloader had been resting on it the whole time. I had a facmask on and a boonie hat, he couldn't see me on the other side of the bush. He stretched his neck to try and look over the bush at one point and I realized his points were about as big around as my thumb and I knew from that it was the deer I was looking for. I closed one eye to look through my scope and all I could see was thorn bush and hair, I couldn't tell what I was looking at. I took just my finger and tried to make sure my scope was zoomed all the way out and he saw my finger move, he stretched his head to my right and when he did so I saw the white throat patch move into my scope. I placed my crosshairs right below it in the middle of the neck and pulled the trigger. The woods were silent..and I had no idea if he went down or not. I took 2 steps to my left and he was laying there on the other side of the bush. It was a total of 5 steps to go around the bush and be at the deer. It probably would have been 2 steps total in a straight line if the bush wasnt there. I sat there and just soaked it in for the next 30 minutes before realizing he was so big body wise I would need some help getting him out. If I remember correctly he field dressed 225lbs.

Oh to reminisce, it makes me want to skip work and hit the woods tomorrow morning.

That was the closest I think I've ever been when I shot one. I had another big deer many years before that and he threw snow all over me after I shot him and he ran past me. I had tucked myself back up into a big hollowed out tree trunk and shot him eating redoaks after a light snow fall at about 30 yards and he ran right past me within a few feet after the shot.

That's a monster!

 

[CliffordN]

OK, here is one.
In the 80s a friend called me and asked if I could come help him kill a buck. He had been hunting in a area that was torn up, but had not been able to put eyes on the deer. I asked him what he wanted me to do, and he said, "Come with me, and see if you can come up with something that works."
A few days later we headed to the wood lot. It was a cold morning, and we faced a long walk to the back of the farm.
We arrived at his right stand area, which he had planned to abandon, right about daybreak, finding a very fresh scrape about fifty yards out from the base of the tree. He decided to climb up, and perch on a limb. I thought that was a bad idea, but he handed me his rifle and shimmied up. After he was in position, I headed further back to a gap in the fence. As I was walking off, he whistled, and said, "I need take a dump". But then he decided he could hold off for "one hour".
He told me to come back then, and I did.
Just about the time he handed me his rifle to get down, I heard something coming. I leaned the rifle against the tree and turned around to spot a big ten point headed right to me, headed to the scrape. I was carrying a 12 gauge, loaded with buckshot. When the deer got to about 15 steps, I could tell he was not too worried about the camoed guy in his path, and I fired in self defense. My friend was none too happy. I figured I had done what he asked me to do. He complained the whole way as we drug the deer out.

 

[348Winchester]

Another close encounter came to mind. It was turkey season in the late nineties. An old reclaimed strip pit was a likely spot to waylay ol' Tom. Weeks prior I had built a makeshift blind on the edge of the pit. After some hours of intermittent calling no turkeys had shown. However, a coyote had the misfortune of answering the raspy voice of the call. He popped out alongside to the left. Now at that time I was enamored with the 10 gauge and had acquired a Spanish double with 32 inch barrels sporting very tight full chokes. Wiley was only about 8-10 feet to the left when he received the bonus package. Not one but both barrels of #4's! The impact from such a blast of heavy loads blew him up onto a patch of blackberry brambles. Fur, blood, bone shards, and dust from his coat created a misty spray that plumed into the air. He never knew what hit him.

 

[RockMcL]

Another close encounter came to mind. It was turkey season in the late nineties. An old reclaimed strip pit was a likely spot to waylay ol' Tom. Weeks prior I had built a makeshift blind on the edge of the pit. After some hours of intermittent calling no turkeys had shown. However, a coyote had the misfortune of answering the raspy voice of the call. He popped out alongside to the left. Now at that time I was enamored with the 10 gauge and had acquired a Spanish double with 32 inch barrels sporting very tight full chokes. Wiley was only about 8-10 feet to the left when he received the bonus package. Not one but both barrels of #4's! The impact from such a blast of heavy loads blew him up onto a patch of blackberry brambles. Fur, blood, bone shards, and dust from his coat created a misty spray that plumed into the air. He never knew what hit him.

Has your shoulder healed yet? Both barrels, long & tight, from a 10 gauge.
Respect brother...

 

[348Winchester]

Has your shoulder healed yet? Both barrels, long & tight, from a 10 gauge.
Respect brother...

I was about 28 then and now 52. I still have the gun and could still take its punishment. The 10 gauge most often toted these days is an Ithaca Mag 10. It does not recoil as hard as most 12 gauges.