I was thinking back of all the hunting I have done over the years, some with family, some with friends and some alone with only the sounds of nature to recharge my internal batteries. One hunt that stands out the most was one that I thought I would share that may keep someone else from doing the same mistake I done.
When I approached my stand one morning during a light rain I proceeded to climb my climbing stick. Has I reached the top I stepped over onto my tree stand, like I had done many times before, but on this occasion the base of my tree stand swiveled sending me head first, 18' to the ground. Luckily I managed to land on my side, (away from my bow and arrows), without any serious injuries. I believe the cause of the "V" shape based tree stand swiveling was due to the wet tree. This took place in the early 80's and has alway been a reminder to wear a safety belt and solidly secure your tree stand. God was watching over me. Wes
That is a FRIGHTENINGLY familiar story, Steiger. Mine also happened in the 80's on a "Baker-style" treestand. In my case, the platform of my stand and my hand-climber/seat were not connected by a line (as they are now). I also did not know to use ratchet straps of bungies to secure the stand to the tree. :knothead:
Anyhow, at some point shortly into the morning hunt, I shifted just a bit too much weight to the seat, removing most of my weight from the platform. That was apparently all it took to allow the platform to head to the ground. Fortunately, I was wearing a safety belt, and since I have a fear of heights I was only hunting about 10 feet up. After a little un-puckering, I was able to swivel around and bear hug my way down the tree. Lesson Learned!
Kingsnake
This is mine...
http://tradgang.com/cgi-bin/ultimatebb.cgi?ubb=get_topic;f=39;t=000044
Wow Curt you are a very lucky man! That is one reason I only hunt my 5 acre patch woods during gun season. Two much lead flying with little regard to anything in the background.
I have nothing like Curts, and for that I am grateful. Had a rifled slug pass me in a cornfield once. Fip-Fip-Fip-Fap-Fap-Fap. I ran out hollering "Human! Human!"
My bow-hunting close call was a borrowed tree-stand. First time I had ever hunted from one. First stupid error was it was home-made. Second stupid error was it was home-made by someone else.
The design was a "V" metal bracked hinged at the edge away from the tree and a "V" notch in the 1/2" plywood (!) platform that snugged the tree. A Poly line went around the tree to tie it up snug.
I got it attached and got onto it OK and was seeing deer. The owner had warned me - keep your weight on the front lip. Well, after a while I shifted a bit . . . and the whole thing dropped a foot.
My hair stood on end and I hugged the tree (held onto my bow!) and, after my eyes stopped spinning I climbed down. Later the owner came up on me - feet on the ground and the stand attached to the tree two feet off the ground for a seat. "Ya gotta pound the point in."
The two that come to mind was a bluff charge by a boar black bear when I stalked way to close to him when he was mounting a hot sow that was feeding in a burned out clear cut. That almost got extremely ugly as I took a step back to find better footing to shoot and I tripped over a small burnt stump. When I got to my knees with an arrow both the sow and boar had put about 50 yards between me and went back to feeding on the thistles and berries in the cut.
The second was a cougar that came into my cow elk calls. I had called a small four point bull in, but he winded me and busted out of there. I stood up from a kneeling position to see a cougar less then ten yards away, crouched down and staring right into my eyes. I will never forget those burning yellow/amber eyes...never. I froze like a deer caught in the headlights, and the cougar slowly rose and followed in the direction the four point had gone.
Those are nothing compared to what Curt went though.
Nothing close to death, but I had the bottom of my climber drop out from underneath me at 10 feet. I was able to climb out of the upper piece, hang and drop to the ground. Very glad I wasn't 20 feet up! I have not hunted from a climber in years but I did learn why guys tie the two platforms together.
I was bowhunting a small piece of woods not far from my house during gun season. I was in my stand at the edge of a an overgrown thicket that had a lot of apple trees in it. I heard something coming through the thicket and could make out hunter coming through, As he got to the edge of the thicket he got down on one knee and pointed his shotgun right at me, looking through his scope. (I'm 15 feet up in a tree). I yelled at him and he got up an walked away. I followed and confronted him, he told me that he thought I was a grouse!! I'm 6', 210.......true story, when he came out of the woods there was a fish and game officer waiting for him.
David
This...happened today. Damn near cut my shooting hand in 1/2..
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I was hunting in Jacksonville county IL when one of mine had happened. There are big gullies and washouts (i guess thats what they are). so one ridge to the next is only about 30 feet across but it may be a near vertical drop of 10-50 feet and I wanted to get to another side. As I was still hunting the top of one there was a fallen tree that connected two and since Im not afraid of heights (i do respect them though) I figured Id just walk across the tree.
First I shook it a little and then jumped on it a few time and it seemed solid so I started my tight walk across. About half way across my entire right leg went thru the tree and I dropped to my butt. I shoot that off and pulled my leg out. Very shaken and still facing the way I was going I took one more step and the tree broke in half and down I went. I held on tighter than a 2 year old holding on to the bathroom door to stay out of the tub. It swung against the cliff face and luckily for me it was only about another 10-15 feet down so I climbed down holding onto roots and getting footholds to gather my belongings and to change my pants!!!!
It took ALOT of walking to find a suitable place to get out of the tunnel like gully.
Stay safe everyone, our families want us back home.
As most of us do, I place my stands in late summer, weeks before the season begins. About 20 years ago, I had a stand in IL about 22' up a hickory on the edge of an old overgrown waterway. Didn't hunt it until mid November. I placed my folding screw in steps pretty far apart in those days and I found them a bit tough to reach with my heavier winter hunting clothes on.
I was about 16' up and the spacing was more than I could reach. I extended my right leg as high as I could and got the toe of my boot onto the step with my right hand grasping the second step overhead.
I guess I kind of "bounced" on my left foot to gain momentum and the step my left foot was on snapped off at the joint and I slammed forward into the tree, impaling my scrotum on the step I was reaching for.
Luckily, I was about 35 and as strong as a bull then. I managed to hold onto the upper step with my right hand and free myself from the other step.
I very cautiously found my way to the ground and found that my left testicle was now outside my scrotum!!
I tried to walk to the truck and quickly realized that I would have to put everything back to where it was originally. I did what I had to do and walked to a friends house and got a ride to the ER.
A painful cleaning session, 11 stitches and 3 weeks of healing. NEVER used a screw in step again!!! Ladders, climbers and climbing sticks and as of late, natural ground blinds.
Damn Roger. What happened? We can wait as you hunt and peck with the left hand typing out a response.
I have had many "Should have been worse" calls, but when the Zeiss binoculars showed up at the house and my wife had to sign for them was probably my worse one.
Dang Roger :scared: Looks familiar-(twice)- but no where near bad as that! Heal up soon! Denny
That's a nasty one, Roger, but Mike Bolin gave me the willies with that story! Ouch!
Back when I was still climbing trees every hunt, I used the branches of a big white pine to climb up an honest 18'. Had a branch snap off in my hand and my foot slid off the branch it was on instantly, sending me junk-first down onto another branch, which of course snapped also. My leg looped around another branch that stopped me finally a few feet from the ground, where I recovered somewhat until I could get down and check for missing parts.
Being young and dumb back then I climbed back up and hunted until dark with my arms and belly scratched and bleeding and my lower body throbbing like hell. Didn't see anything but squirrels...
It's hard to limit it to just one, here is the link to number four or five on my list:
http://tradgang.com/cgi-bin/ultimatebb.cgi?ubb=get_topic;f=1;t=055765#000000
Had a Red Tail try to take my head off while in a treestand. Guess he saw my hair sticking out from under my hat. Bad thing is I had it happened to me TWICE! Got my hair cut. P.S. Curt,glad you are O.K.
Nothing like Guru's but one morning a long time ago I was riding a horse to get back into some hunting land. The horse took exception to the early morning start I guess, and started bucking. I went flying one way bow went another and arrows with broad heads in a hip quiver if I remember right. Could have been bad, but I came out of it relatively unscathed.
When I read one of Fred Asbell's stories about how he disliked horseback riding when bow hunting, I could relate to that very well. I have not tried it since that episode.
1985 Grizzly attack in Montana. My buddy arrowed the charging Grizzly at 12 feet...my arrow entered from 4 ft as the bear charged in. One photo here was never seen by the public, 2 others posted across the country. The Trial was scarier than the actual attack.
Notice the Radio collar and the Broken Jaw...
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Joe,
Wow, that makes my hair stand up!
How did all of that work out? And would you mind to post the whole story about the attack?
I don't know how close this really was but...
It was 1991 when I lived in Newton, Kansas. I was in a treestand about 50 yards or so from a small stream that bordered the farm I hunted. It was an afternoon hunt and someone(s) were target shooting with a semi-auto .30. It was just a noisy nuisance until I heard zinging in the branches of the Osage Orange tree I was in. It sounded harmless until I realized the zinging was caused by bullets richoeting off the stream into my tree.
I hollered at the fellows who were only ignorant of what they were doing until I yelled at them. They then became IDIOTS as they continued shooting while I shinied down the back of the tree.
To this day I'm still amazed at how harmless the sound these bullets made as they went through those limbs.
I slipped in on them (we hadn't seen each other). I saw two of them shooting and I contemplated putting an arrow in their truck. Thinking better of that I went to the landowner and left a letter in his mailbox describing their negligence. I never heard the target shooting again during my times hunting on that property. They probably just ran out of bullets.
The deer hunting in that area sucked by the way.
Unfortunately, I have a bunch of them.
Everything from being attacked by wild dogs three times (20 stitches), charged by bears (3 times), gored by a wild boar (11 stitches), shot while rabbit hunting (just had to pluck out a few pellets, one in the lip), falling through the ice, and many more. The worst was getting run over by a truck (twice) after frog gigging. That one knocked out my front teeth and caused me to get 350 stitches. Did you ever squeeze a grape and have the skin pull away? That's what happened to my face when the truck tire went over mine. Long story but after the truck backed over me the first time it hit a tree and went back over me. I can still vividly remember the spinning tire coming up my leg, across my chest (tearing my clothes off as it came), and right before it hit my head I remember very clearly thinking "dang this is gonna hurt"! It did!
Nothing got my attention like a bull moose encounter I had back in the 80's. I had just put an arrow in him at about 10 yards and afterwards he circled around in front of me and started waving his antlers and grunting at 6 yards. I thought at that point I was done for.
:scared:
Being hunkered down in that swampy, mucky stuff I had no place to go and all I can remember is thinking, "This is NOT a good situation," and I started mouthing, "Please Lord, Please Lord."
:p :pray: :p
I've been lost, cold, had very ornery bears at very close ranges, had a tree step break on me at stand level that had me swinging like a monkey but the deal with that moose was far and away the worst spot I've ever been in while hunting.
QuoteOriginally posted by joe skipp:
1985 Grizzly attack in Montana. My buddy arrowed the charging Grizzly at 12 feet...my arrow entered from 4 ft as the bear charged in. One photo here was never seen by the public, 2 others posted across the country. The Trial was scarier than the actual attack.
Good grief... That had to be something else! :scared:
Like a few others mine was in the 80s. Back then I was in much better shape and generally a lot bolder than I am now. I was hunting in a baker style stand but I never did trust them enough to climb with them. I would use screw in steps and then use the platform as a stationary platform. Who needs to sit anyway right? So on this one day I am in the stand. I do have on a safety belt but one of those first ones that just went around your waist and strapped to the tree. A doe came in from behind me and stopped to my left side and due to the branches on the tree I had to lean out to get the shot angle I wanted. As I came to full draw I remember thinking I could lean against the safety belt and it would keep me from falling. As I put more pressure on the belt I picked a spot and released. I guess that little bit of shock was all it took. The stand platform spun out from under me. The arrow was way off the mark, the bow hit the ground just shortly after the arrow and I was pinned to a pine tree about 25 feet off the ground.
The belt felt like it was going to cut me in half, so once I regained some composure I managed to get one had behind myself enough to turn and somewhat face the tree. I pulled my knife and while hugging the tree with one arm I cut the safety belt and began sliding down the tree.
Needless to say I had a bad case of road rash on my arms, my abdomen turned a nice shade of purple over the next few days but all superficial wounds. Last I knew about it the remains of that old baker stand were still in that tree 15 or so years ago. I never went back to collect it and never hunted from one again.
As much as I hunt and am in the woods, I've been very fortunate over the years to have had many "close" calls. Two that still make my skin crawl were with snakes.
The first was a big timber rattler. I was blood trailing a doe I'd shot with my recurve in Camp Stewart in the early 60's..was on my hands and knees with my face about 18" off the ground looking for specs when the big rattle snake shied backwards out of it's coil. Could have just as easy struck me right in the face. Guess it was the near freezing weather an it was sluggish.
The other was this big diamondback. I was sitting down with my legs stretched out in front of me turkey hunting when I looked to my right and it's big ole head was about 3 or 4" from my right knee. It had crawled up from behind me and was stretched out along my right side with it's head up and tongue flicking.
I have no idea how it was humanly possible, with my legs stretched out in front and back leaning against a tree, but I managed to somehow spring up and around to my left behind the tree I was leaning against and do it quicker than a rattle snake can strike.
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It's amazing to read all the different stories that hunters go through and continue on with a deep down passion for the sport we love. It's to bad we all couldn't be around the camp fire with a few beers telling these stories. I can visualize some of the stories as I read them.
The one that really stands out is the scrotum story, almost made me pass out just reading about it. I think I would have rather delt with the charging bear. lol. Wes
I have hunted a property here in Canton for the last 8 years. Last year the landowners wife pulled a gun on me at 5 in the morning, thought I was breaking into her house. She had no idea who I was and called the cops. This was a turning point in the lives of the landowner, his wife had early signs of altzimers and when she pulled the gun and did not recognize me after knowing her for years the family was able to get her medication.
For me number one(while bowhunting) would be during a spring gobler hunt with my Dad. We had located a gobbler before daylight. At daybreak we called and a hawk flew over with that fisew noise, the bird shut up. It happened a couple of more times during the morning. Well any how heading out of the woods we discovered this gigantic nest in a beech tree. So I climb up and Dad was standing guard with a shotgun. The nest had three goshlings in it and I was taking pictures.
Something that I've got away with before. Well one of the parents did a dive bomb hitting me in the head. Had four puncture wounds to the head and required five sticthes in my eyelid from the talon. The slice never went completely through
the eyelid. Good Lord was on my side that day.
We could have shot the goshhawk the following weekend, but she was just protecting her turf.
And I've stop taking tree nest pictures. Thats how I got my nick name 28 years ago.
Regarding those pics I posted...yesterday I foolishly put that knife on top of the fridge as I was puting away a bunch of hunting stuff. I forgot it was there, opened the freezer, and it fell on my hand. blood everywhere, my kitchen looked like a crime scene...
WOW Roger. It is usually the simplest things that are the worst. First thing the boys said when I showed them the pictures was "When will Mr. Roger be able to go hunting with us again". Honestly, I couldn't make that up. We are hoping for a quick safe recovery for you.
Tell the boys we can go anytime!We both know I can't shoot anyway!!Just bring more muffins :bigsmyl:
I once entered the woods in winter without any toilet paper. :eek:
ya'll are some very lucky folks! try to stay safe out there!
I once was stalking a group of pigs beside a slew. The leaves were crunchy and I was walking in the edge of the water where it was not as noisy. the pigs were about 40 yards in front of me on a small rise. after a moment or two totally focused on pigs I realized there were baby gators yelping about 10 feet away in the slew. about the time I realized they were there Momma was on the way. I scrambled up the steep slew and on the backside of a big oak . When we both stopped running the gator and I her nose was about 3 feet from my foot.If not for the steep bank she had to scramble up I would have surely been caught.A solid mile from the truck. The Good Lord has kept me out of a whole bunch of trouble through the years. Thank You Lord.RC
QuoteOriginally posted by Roger Norris:
Regarding those pics I posted...yesterday I foolishly put that knife on top of the fridge as I was puting away a bunch of hunting stuff. I forgot it was there, opened the freezer, and it fell on my hand. blood everywhere, my kitchen looked like a crime scene...
Wow Roger, that looked awful - the kind that's not just inconvenient but also painful after a while. Hope it heals up soon and it wasn't deep enough to damage anything long term. Nasty one there buddy! :(
I wrote my story here: http://tradgang.com/cgi-bin/ultimatebb.cgi?ubb=get_topic&f=1&t=112476
Quick feet there, RC!
For some reason, 'Gators make my skin crawl more than bears!
Holy smoke. No way I could listen to some of these gruesome stories live. Shoot, I had to cover my face with my hands and peek through the fingers on a couple of them as it was!
Indianabowhunter, Oh my!
QuoteOriginally posted by Roger Norris:
Tell the boys we can go anytime!We both know I can't shoot anyway!!Just bring more muffins :bigsmyl:
I heard the last one calling me about 2:30 this morning. Man, they were good, weren't they?
I lost my right eye in a shooting accident in 1963. On November 1, 1970 I shot a deer early in the morning, went to a creek to wash up - my glasses had fogged up so I left them on the dash in the pickup. There were trout in the stream and my friend and I grabbed our bows and the chase was on. I was on a steep bank and took a shot at a passing trout. The aluminum arrow struck a rock - the nock flew off - and the arrow bounced straight back at me. The fletching brushed my LEFT temple. Sure took all the fun out of the rest of that hunt. Vowed at that time never to shoot without glasses for protection . . . and for the most part I've done just that. Still have the arrow as a reminder.
QuoteOriginally posted by Mike Vines:
QuoteOriginally posted by Roger Norris:
Tell the boys we can go anytime!We both know I can't shoot anyway!!Just bring more muffins :bigsmyl:
I heard the last one calling me about 2:30 this morning. Man, they were good, weren't they? [/b]
Possibly the best muffin ever. Here to for known as Wyoming breakfast muffins.... :biglaugh:
Seeing Roger's hand and reading Mike Bolin's story are about as bad as it gets although a friend of mine was climbing down from his tree stand and started to slip, he grabbed his stand, slipped anyway and left his ring finger and ring on his stand.
All these stories kinda wants me to start hunting on the ground again!!
I did have a black bear climb my ladder stand one night. He got within 4' of me before he dropped back down and ran.
QuoteOriginally posted by Roger Norris:
QuoteOriginally posted by Mike Vines:
QuoteOriginally posted by Roger Norris:
Tell the boys we can go anytime!We both know I can't shoot anyway!!Just bring more muffins :bigsmyl:
I heard the last one calling me about 2:30 this morning. Man, they were good, weren't they? [/b]
Possibly the best muffin ever. Here to for known as Wyoming breakfast muffins.... :biglaugh: [/b]
I'm sure Laura could be persuaded to send us with a batch for the road.
Man some of you guys have lived - little stuff for me, had a step give way half way up, slid down, tore me and my jacket up and wrecked opening day once. I have had clumsy days, cutting myself with broadheads etc. Now when I have clumsy days, I just pack up and leave, some days out hunting things go wrong one after another, I am not sticking around to see how bad they can get - I get out, even if it's a few hours from home.
This occurred back in 2000. I was climbing up to a stand in a large cedar tree, located on the side of a pretty steep hill. I had hung a chain-on stand sometime before, and had actually hunted out of it a couple of times. I had left my bow and backpack on the ground, and had attached a tow line to bring them up once I was belted in on the platform.
Just as I was about to step on the platform, I noticed that my gear had slid downhill a little, and was under a scrub bush. I knew that it would get hung up in the bush if I tried to pull it up once I was on the platform. I had been climbing with both hands, and my feet
were now solidly sitting on two limbs. So i grabbed my tow rope with my right hand to give it a yank to pull the gear back up hill, and grabbed a branch with my left. Well, the branch was hanging on that tree by a thread. As soon as I grabbed it, it snapped off, and I went backwards off the tree. from about 20ft. up.
It happens fast, but I remember thinking that bad things were going to be happening. As I fell, I sheared off a couple branches about 1.5" thick off the trunk, and ran my face along one of those thick vines that sometimes grow up a tree. Somehow, my body actually rotated before I hit the ground, and I landed on my side, with my arm tucked under my chest in a natural position.
My head hit between two large rocks that were sitting on the ground, and my feet smashed down on my bow, trashing the quiver and arrows and putting a gouge or two in my recurve.
Fortunately the ground was relatively soft
due to recent rains. I had the breath knocked out of me, and some cuts on my face, neck and hands. Other than that, (and probably a little chronic back pain now from time to time), I was OK. I actually climbed back up and used my only straight arrow to sit that evening. No deer seen: I shouldn't have pushed my luck, looking back on it.
The Good Lord and My Guardian Angel were both in the woods with me that evening. I had been married a year, and my first daughter was 4mos. old. I easily could have ended up dead or in a wheelchair for life. I know that God has me here for a purpose.
An event like this really puts things in perspective.
Wow...there are some good stories on here.
First one for me was climbing up in a tree after freezing rain the day before (yes, was very stupid - was young and dumb at the time). Stepped on the platform of a loc-on only to have it slide off the front of the ice. Good thing I had a good grip on the step - was able to keep from going right off the front. Got onto the stand the second time, belted in, scraped off some of the ice and hunted. Told ya I was young and dumb.
Second was during the peak of the rut in Illinois (Calhoun County on the Pike County border). Walking in by flashlight, heard a buck grunt to my right. Thought he might be chasing a doe in the dark, so I turned off my flashlight so as not to spook him. When he got closer, I turned it back on to see him staring at me from about 10 yards. Two jumps later he was at about 7-8 feet grunting at me...with the wind blowing from me to him. Every time I stepped back he stepped forward, and since he was a basket rack 8pt and I only had one tag, I had no interest in shooting him.
After 30 seconds or so of backing off, he cut me off by running around me - just as I heard a second buck on his way grunting (much deeper). Decided I'd have to shoot my way out, so started to draw on the first buck when he turned and trotted off. Turned toward the second buck to find him gone as well...no idea where he went, as the grass on both sides of the trail were chest high. Shaking, made my way to the stand for the morning hunt...nerves shot.
I've been lucky in some pretty tight spots over the years but I guess I would consider my closest call to have occurred during a hunt for caribou in Western Alaska in 1999. We were in the last full hunting day of the trip and I had been watching a big bull for a couple of days in a spot that was nearly impossible to get to. Being the last day, I decided to do something I never do and that was to take an ambush spot along a steep ridge top but in a position that made it impossible for me to see approaching animals from more than a few yards. This was a great tactic for caribou but not a good idea for the grizzlies that were very abundant in the area. I had encounter several bears during this hunt but the open tundra made it easy to avoid them by just steering clear and staying downwind. Several hours into the hunt I knew it was time to head back down into the valley to prepare for my bush plane flight the next morning. I thought before I left that I would get my video camera out for a quick cut away shot of a beautiful mountain range just over the top of the ridge. I turned on my video camera and stepped towards the ridge top. As my head and shoulders cleared the top, I immediately saw a big sow grizzly and a two year old sub-adult cub walking directly at me the same caribou trail I was standing in. They were at a 50 yards and closing VERY fast but had not seen me. I ducked down behind the ridgeline and looked behind me towards the distant camp and lake some two miles away. The area was barren and held no hiding place for more than a mile. I had seconds to decide if I should try and run or step up on the ridge and hope that they would see me as human and run. Neither were good options. I knew with 5-10 seconds before they cleared the ridge, I did not want to be seen running away at 30-50 yards. I decided to hope for the best and show myself to them and hope that they had encountered humans before and would turn away.
With my Black Widow in one hand and the video camera still in the record mode, I took two steps up on the ridge and was immediately spotted by the sow. Her body language changed in an instant and she came hard at me. I knew she saw me as prey and most likely thought I was a caribou. I took several steps towards her shouting "no bear, no bear" in the deepest, manliest voice I could muster but it had no impact on her. I dropped the bow and drew my sidearm while continuing to yell at her. At about 50 feet, she was forced to drop into a depression that took her out of site for a second or two. I knew that when she cleared that hole that I would be forced to make a terrible choice. I had only four rounds in my sidearm and a warning shot would put me down to three rounds on two running bears. Talk about a rock and a hard place.
She cleared the depression at around 45 feet from me and had lost her bearing for a moment. She paused, required my location and dropped her head in what I truly believe was a posture for a hard charge. When she moved towards me, I was forced to fire. The round hit her hard and she went down but immediately regained her footing. She turned away and I continued to yell to ensure she would not resume her charge. I have been around bears for most of my life from Kodiak Island to Maine and I had never been in a position where I had felt any serious threats. Other than some bluff charges from black bears at bait sites, I have been able to avoid any close calls. Even during this incident I don't remember feeling any fear. I did however, feel disgust for putting myself in a situation where I could not avoid this confrontation by placing myself in a position where I could not watch my back. I don't believe she had ever encountered a human and she was just doing what bears do. This encounter was my fault entirely.
When she broke off the attack, I watched her run for more than a mile strait up and over a ridge. I followed her at a distance for about 3 miles and watched her cross another valley. I had never felt so angry with myself and wanted to make sure that she stayed on her feet not really knowing what I would have done had she went down. I shadowed her for more than an hour and she continued on until she was out of site more than four miles for the scene of the incident. I had never before hunted in a region holding grizzlies or browns without bear spray and have never done it since. Had I had a can of spray, I would never have pulled that sidearm and the story would have had a much happier ending.
That encounter was a long time ago and since that day I have had countless close encounters with blacks, grizzlies and some big browns. The most interesting was a monster brown bear taking a bow killed black tailed deer from me on Kodiak Island. I have never felt a true threat since that day in 1999 and hope that it stays that way.
Jerry
Here is one I had. Putting in a stand before daybreak in IA. In kind of a hurry so didn't screw in the bottom steps all the way but still good enough (I thought). Climbed down and ready to put up the stand, but did so in kind of a hurry and second step up pulled out as I put my weight on it. I did NOT have three other solid points of contact and slid down the tree after banging into it first when the step pulled out.
When I fell into the tree I nearly impaled my chest on an existing step--one of those one-piece screw-in steps that's just a piece of metal with a slight rise at the end. It did not penetrate my exterior clothing but hurt like heck. I was in serious pain for a few minutes. Finally, climbed back up, set the stand, and maybe 8-9 hours later killed the biggest grossing buck I've ever taken (to this day).
It was a hit that required overnight, so I got a motel room and inside I inspected the damage that evening. A BIG bruise right over my heart, and deep scratch there, as well as a several-inch L-shaped tear in my Carol Davis union suit right over the spot. I probably came very close to puncturing my chest on that step.
In the future I only used those steps as the very first step (closest to ground), or more usually as a hook up in the tree to hang my pack from.