In retrospect, it was a terrible idea to dress as a doe and cover myself in estrous-urine during the rut. The old cornhole is still sore as all getout.

Won't make that mistake again.

Also, it was downright foolish to make a hat out of my 175 B&C buck and parade around Sam Houston National Forest trying to lure other bucks out of the woods.

Next time, I'll just rattle.

Long story so I'll try to keep it short.

I was deer hunting near a swamp when I hear hogs in the brush. I crossed a fast running creek (30' wide) by walking a log that was about half submerged. I shoot a hog and I'm in a hurry because thunder is rumbling and I'm in there by myself. I figured I'd gut him after I got across the creek.

I tied my rope to the hog's back legs, drug him to the creek, and started across the log with my rifle slung on my shoulder. When I'm about 10' from the other side of the creek, I run out of rope. No problem. I just yank the hog off into the creek and figure I'll continue across. I yanked him in the water on the UPSTREAM side of the log!

The fast water pulls the hog under the log so my rope is now trying to pull me under the log too. I'm about a millimeter from being pulled off the log into the creek with my rifle on my shoulder. In a flash of brilliance, I had tied a loop in the rope and slipped my hand through it so I couldn't just let go and let the hog get washed away.

I seriously thought I was in big trouble. A creek in near-flood stage, me by myself, and fixing to get dragged under a log into the creek with a rope around my wrist. I've walked 2 miles from my truck and it's parked 5 miles from the nearest road so odds are nobody would ever find me.

Fortunately, I was young and strong enough to fight my way across the log to the other side of the creek about an inch at a time. Bear in mind that all this is happening while I'm balanced on a log about 24" in diameter.

End of story...I got across the creek and managed to haul the hog upstream and out from under the log. I've stepped ON 3 different species of poisonous snakes (and been struck by 2 of them), blundered right into a cougar at point blank range, been attacked by a pack of wild dogs, and been chased by a rabid skunk while hunting but this was the only time I thought the jig might be up. BTW, I swim like a bowling ball.

Reminds me....we were bow hunting some years back and one of our hunters had just taken it up. He was in the back of the cabin getting camo'd up while me and another guy were sitting on the couch of the living room so we could all head out together for the afternoon hunt.

He comes out and tells us he's ready to head out, and with him comes this horrible smell. Of course we ask him the obvious....."What the *&%^ is that smell?" "Fox urine, man." "Did the bottle break in your back pack?" "No, I just put it on for a cover scent."

In his quest for the reduction of human scent and lack of knowledge of how cover scents are to be used, he'd applied it all over his clothes and applied it to himself like after shave.

'Course we made him ride in the bed of the pickup.

We used to hunt by Orange grove when I was 14, which was twenty years ago. My dad bought me a deer stand heater, which was a cotton type material enclosed in aluminium, he found it at a garage sale. You put lantern fuel in the side of it, the material sucks up the fluid and suppose to put off heat. The first time I lit it, I thought it went out completely. It had no flame, but must have had some ambers still lit in the cotton material. I believe it was only suppose to smolder some. I grabbed the lantern fuel and bent over to fill it up in my tower stand. As I was filling it up, the fumes surrounding me exploded. All I saw was a huge bright light surrounding me. I dropped the can, which caught several areas in my stand on fire. I opened the door up, kicked the heater and can out, which was still on it's side leaking fuel everywhere. The items still burining rolled down a hill a little, catching the brush on fire as the rolled leaking fuel everywhere. I Dove out of the stand to escape the fires. Hit the ground very hard, knocking my air out for a bit. Then I remembered, my nice little Sako, forrester was in my stand still. I had to climb back up to grab it. My lips and forehead felt like they we're sunburnt badly. I had a very little eye brows/lashes left and some singed hair. I had to walk down the road hollering very loud, so my father could here me. He was hunting about 1/2 mile from me. Luckly everything was ok, besides, being sore, a little burnt and brusied. I got very lucky!!!

Back when we had a lease in West Texas I took a friend on a duck hunt on my parent's place on the Brazos on Friday, and hunted late season dove on Saturday. I had the week off work and the lease to myself until the next Saturday, so I grabbed my "safari box" (that usually has a 12g and a .308 or .25-06 in it) and head West. I get there and open the case only to find a 12g and a 20g, and a partial case each of 20 and 12 bird shot. I wasn't about to make the drive back home, so I hit El Paso and put a rifle, scope, and a box of ammo on my Monkey Wards card. I squared the scope up in the parking lot, had a nearby sporting goods store bore-sight it for a dollar-fifty, and zeroed it at camp. Didn't see a single shooter all week. The rifle was a Win M70 in .243, and I still have it as a reminder, although it has been an excellent rifle. At least I got a new rifle out of the fiasco.

i was in such a hurry to go hunting one morning i forgot my hunting boots. usually wear flip flops on the drive down to be comfy. i ended up hunting barefooted that day.

Wasn't while hunting but involved hunting about 25 years ago. My HQ place was unleased that year and I was introduced to a fellow from Bryan, Texas that was looking for a place for his family to hunt. Didn't know anything about him but he had hunted on another ranch with a friend and came with good reccomendations. In the back of my mind, I was thinking that since I am over 200 miles from Bryan, probably will not see him and his family very often. Pretty good deal. Was pretty new to the leasing business, we shook hands, and the deal was done. Dove season opened and the "family" began arriving. They continued arriving right on through deer season. I couldn't believe that this guy had such a big family. An interesting family too! Some of his nephews and son-in laws had a lot darker complection then he did. A couple of them were a LOT darker. A nice young man that appeared with the group one weekend had a hard time understanding my Texan. My Mandarian was not very good, so we did little conversing. Did I mention that the lessor and I had the last name? Pure coincidence, right? Don't think any of these folks are my kinfolks. Besides, wrong part of the state. One weekend, the lessor brought his old grandpa out to the lease. Didn't hunt, just sat on a bucket and watched stuff happen. I pulled up another grease bucket and began to visit. Damn...discovered that the old man's dad and my grandfather were distant cousins. Wow..all the guys were also my FAMILY!!!

Don't lease to the family anymore.

one time I went to the lease in nothing but street clothes, my 20 foot blind with scent blocker, my feeder went off 5 minutes later than it should have, my hunt was ruined, i dont know where i went wrong

I was hunting on Camp Bullis an Army post just north of San Antonio, and I was in my assigned area for an evening bow hunt.

I wasn't too far off of a main road that runs through the 27,000 acre post where there is training usually going on in certain areas all the time, while hunting goes on in areas that are open to hunting when training isn't taking place.

Anyway I'm sitting there and a helicopter starts circling over head and lands directly in front of me about 100 yards out and then about six deuce and a halfs drive up and park all around the area where my jeep was parked and 200 personel in full battle gear get out and start taking positions all around me.

Of course I decided that I probably wouldn't be seeing anything with them around my stand I had to get out and walk over to my jeep that was now in the middle of their command post, and having to hold onto my hat to keep it from blowing away from the prop wash of the chopper.

One of the officers ask me while I was loading my bow and gear into my jeep if I'd seen any deer, and looking at me with a big grin from ear to ear.

I told him over the roar of the engine, "NO, I GUESS THEY SPOOKED WHEN THE WIND CHANGED DIRECTION!"

I couldn't wait to get back to hunting headquarters and chew out the ORC personel for putting me in the middle of that fiasco.

I've done something similar....I take the dogs out for a walk in the mornings and just slip on my crocs. I just grabbed my single truck key, locked the door and pulled it shut behind me, got half way to try truck walking on frosted over grass and it hit me....crapppppp, don't have a house key and boots are inside.

Went on an Axis Bow hunt about 10 years ago in Uvalde, mind you i live in Conroe (North of Houston)We get up the next morning to go hunting, and i cant find my arrows, Yep, left them at home in there fancy little arrow case. 3 of us bow hunting, im the only that shoots carbons, ended up getting 2 arrows from my uncle, and completly re-set my bow, and didnt get an Axis.

Brain farts happen more often as you get older. Just wait, you'll see.

A couple of months ago, I rode my ATV all the way to spot where I always park it for a late afternoon hog hunt. It was only after I got off that I realized I had left my gun back in the trailer.

For safety reasons, I always wait until I get into my stand before chambering a round. I can honestly say that on at lease one occassion, I have gone to unload my gun before leaving after a morning hunt, only to realize I never chambered a round when I got there. Thankfully, it didn't cost me a deer.

I had two of them on one hunt. First, as I got to where I was hunting (public land) another older guy pulled up too. As it turns out, we both were going down the same trail. We talked a little as we walked and l;oaded our rifles. I broke off the trail to my spot and wished him success. I get all settled in, waited about an hour, and here comes a couple of does, followed by a nice little shooter buck. I shoulder my Winchester Model 94, took aim, pulled the trigger, and heard the loudest CLICK you ever heard. Damn, forgot to chamber one! The buck trotted off and a couple of minuytes BANG! Dude shot my buck. I waited a while, then followed the bucks drag marks all the way to where we were parked. Those antlers drug the whole way to the truck, apparently. The old guy was long gone but I needed to take a leak. I propped my rifle up against a tree and was relieving myself. I finished peeing and noticed a note on the ground. I picked it up and it said, "George, here is $20 and I'll pay you the rest when I get paid Friday." I look on the back, and someone had wiped their butt on it!. Oooh gross, I threw it down and turned to walk away. But as I turned, something squished beneath my foot. I WAS STANDING IN A PILE OF PEOPLE POOP! FRESH PEOPLE POOP! I'm sure it was the same old guy that shot my buck. I sure felt small, man. I did seek revenge though, on somebody. I went back and dumped a load myself, except I mounded leaves and stuff up on it to look like a little grave. Hoping someone would kick it with their foot or something.
It was a cold son of a gun that day. I tried and tried to get all the poop off my boot, but I could still smell it all the way home.

This spring I went out Turkey hunting with a friend. He was sitting a few feet to my left calling. We decided to move to another location. I had a brand new shotgun, and reached with my finger to activate the safety. Mad the huge mistake of not really paying attention. I had the butt of the shotgun resting on my left thigh with the muzzel pointed in the air. Slid my hand down the gun as I got ready to stand up and BANG!!!! My finger caught the trigger and of course the safety was off. 100% of the recoil was absorbed by my thigh and the old oak tree started dropping all sorts of limbs on me. Was funny since no one was hurt (except my pride and thigh). I felt so stupid!!!!
Jayson

I grew up in south central Texas, where the deer are about the size of Golden Retreivers with antlers. Once a year, my dad would go to Colorado with 3 friends to hunt deer that were so big that I as a small child thought they were cows. Anyway, one trip, my dad walked almost a mile from camp following a trail, spotted a big buck, aimed and CLICK. Yep, he forgot the ammo back at camp. So he trudged all the way back, got the bullets, and went back, but the deer was long gone and the tracks were covered in fresh snow. It was 2 days later before he finally shot a deer.
His buddies ragged him about forgetting the ammo all the way home, so when he got back, he took his gun out to the garage, took off the buttplate, and drilled two holes large enough to drop in a cartridge each, From then on, every year, he would pull out those bullets, shoot them for target practice, and replace them with new bullets.

This one happened to my brother-in-law. He had three guns, same make and model, but different calibers. When he hunted in our part of the state, he usually carried the .243, but when he went to Colorado, he took a 300 Magnum. Well, once, after coming back from a trip to Colorado, he went hunting with me, my dad, and another guy. We left his house in the early morning, and he thought he was bringing the .243. When we got to the lease, about 50 miles from home, he realized he had brought the Magnum. As the four of us walked through the woods, we came upon a clearing with about 20 deer standing around. We decided that we would all select which deer we would shoot, my dad would count to three, and we'd all shoot at the same time. It worked great. The woods echoed with four rifle shots, and deer hit the ground. As we walked up to claim our deer, my b-i-l realized that the Magnum round had gone through the neck of the doe he was aiming at, and then into the head of a small spike standing behind her. We didn't want to get busted for shooting a spike (they were illegal at the time), so we found a Game Warden, and my b-i-l admitted what he did. The Game Warden believed the story, mostly because the spike's skull was almost completely missing, so he just confiscated the deer and let us go on our way.

OK, this one's on me. When I was 13, my dad bought me a Winchester 94 .30-30. When we went to practice shooting it, my dad explained that after my last shot, I should jack the lever to make sure it was empty, and them hold the hammer with my thumb while I pulled the trigger, to uncock the gun. When we actually went hunting, I was out at a makeshift blind, and when I was walking a few yards away to take a leak, I stepped in a frozen over creek. The water was about 3 inches deeper than the tops of my boots, and I suddenly had icicles for feet. I was miserable, and decided to quit for the day and go back to the truck. When I got there, my brother was sitting on the seat of the truck with his feet dangling out the open door. (He couldn't stand the cold either.) I started to unload my rifle, and after I jacked out each shell, I lowered the hammer. After 3 shells, the effect of the cold on my wimpy 13 year old thumb was too much, and when I pulled the trigger, my thumb slipped off the hammer and BANG! Luckily, I was pointing the gun at the ground, but was a little too close to my brother's feet. The bullet knocked a half-moon shape out of the sole of his boot, right next to where his little toe was. I was scared to death, not of hurting my brother, but of what my dad would do to me (and I didn't want to ride all the way home standing up, if you get my drift).
My brother knew he had me at a major disadvantage, so he threatened to tell Dad unless I would be his slave for a week. So for a week, I carried his books, did his chores, and just about everything else.

Dumbest I felt hunting was this one time I got to my stand really early. The sun was starting to come up just barely, and I could see through my scope just enough to make out a nice axis buck at the feeder.

So me, being about 15 and stupid, decided ok I can just make out the white patch of his neck im gunna nail him. I flipped the safety off and squeezed of a well placed shot and it was DRT.

So im so excited at this point that im shaking and cant wait for my dad to show up and show off my awesome axis. He pulls up, I jump in the truck with him and tell him about it and how it dropped on the spot so we drove up to the feeder.

Was an axis buck laying on the ground dead? NOPE
Was a small whitetail doe that just caught a 30-06 round right up the butt laying on the ground dead? YEP.

The doe was standing right in front of the axis buck facing him, I mistaked her white butt for his white throat patch. I felt like a complete idiot.

2 years ago was hunting opening morning had a nice 10 point come out in front of me didn't pull the trigger because as I was getting dressed that morning realized I forgot my hunting liacense at the house 3hrs away got a replacment liacense after the hunt same buck came that evening had another shot spun around in my chair and kicked over my bino's never saw him again

Had a few too many brews at the camp. Mistakenly crawled into bed with a hunting partners wife...yada yada yada...made for an awkward rest of the weekend.

Pete

Here's another worth sharing...

Many years ago while turkey hunting in Mississippi, I had an ole Tom walk up on me while I sat hidden behind a fallen oak. He was walking up the side of hill that dropped in front of me. The size (diameter) of the oak, and the fact the bird was walking up from below, made it very difficult to get my shotgun pointed down the hill while keeping it properly shouldered. Now, anyone who has ever hunted turkeys at shotgun range knows full well the heart-pounding effect an approaching tom can create on any hunter. The ole tom had obviously heard my earlier calls and was headed straight up the hill towards me. Once I got a good bead on him, I pulled the trigger on my ole reliable Remington 1100 and sent the #4's flying at him. What I didn't notice in all the excitement was that the butt of my shotgun was resting above my shoulder, almost like when shooting a bazooka. The blast of the load sent the shotgun flying past my face with the end of the barrel now resting in lap. My first reaction was to check to see if I still had my nose attached. Thankfully, it appeared the only casualty was my pride.

That ole tom on the other hand, wasn't so lucky.

About 5 years ago I sat down to hunt opening morning, and as the sun peaked over the horizon I realized that I forgot to buy my hunting license. Every list I had made preparing for the season had everything checked off, but not one list had hunting license on it. I spotted a good buck that morning, but license or no, I wouldn't have had a shot. The lack of a shot somewhat eased the pain.

Tore a small, unnoticeable hole in my waders, then proceeded to get in the red river to duck hunt in 30 degree weather. It was a very cold 20 minute mule ride back to the house.

I was quail hunting back in the mid-80's in Central Texas (when we still had quail). We were walking through a field of chest high sunflowers when a nice buck stood up about 20 feet in front of me. Now all I had in my 12 gauge was some high brass #6's, but it was deer season, I had permission to hunt whatever I wanted on that land, it was legal (however unwise) to use a shotgun with birdshot on deer, and I figured WTH, a load of #6's right between the eyes at 20 feet would be more than lethal. So I raise my shotgun, pull the trigger....and proceed to completely miss the deer....with a shotgun....at 20 feet.

I can't count many times. Worst with buddies around was swimming after decoys. Water was too cold to be doing that. I stripped down and then got back out and put my t-shirt on to jump back in again. It was actually warmer.

Locked keys in car with frozen feet. I made the locksmith look dumb after he spent over one hour trying to get in my Toyota. I grabbed the tool and got in 2 seconds.

I had a bag of buck grub and was running for my life with 40 feeder steers chasing after me. I dumped the whole bag on the ground to keep them from stampeding me and climbed into the blind as soon as I could. Guess the 80 acres of wheat wasn't good enough for them. If someone was videoing that would have been good.