This Happened to Me... WapitiTalk.com Style

[WapitiTalk1]

Remember the old Outdoor Life magazine episodes, "this happened to me"? The stories ranged from escaping hypothermia to wondering what that bear is going to do next, after he dismantled your tent with you in it. Let's do this, perhaps your story/event can serve as a learning tool for those who haven't experienced what you have? I've got a few and will share them as the thread rolls on. Side bar... a personal thanks to all of you on WapitiTalk that has made our forum arguably, the best darn hunting site out there by your involvement.. That said... let's go... "This happened to me".

[Jhg]

This happened to me....

Archery elk hunting solo I had left my camp early. The hike up the mountain was uneventful as the dawn splashed its pallet across the mountains sharp cold air. My destination was half way up and into a mixed forest of lodge pole and aspen. Late morning found me just below an old survey line. I had seen little elk sign, but ample bear activity. Turned rocks and torn open rotten logs were evidence that a bear was working the area.
Growing hungry, I sat a downed tree and started eating a thick ham sandwich. Halfway through a bite a soft noise got my attention just over my shoulder. Turning my head slightly, I was shocked to find myself looking right into the eyes of a bear! He was just inches from my face! His nose, moist and black flared as he inhaled the aroma of the sandwich that was now frozen in my hand!
My bow lay along my leg and I had no sidearm. I doubt either would have been much help if I had needed them.

The bear, his fore legs braced upon the log I was sitting leapt up upon it and without a second look walked its length away from me and disappeared into the forest from which he had come so silently. In shock, and surprise still flooding my veins, I listened intently for the bear I knew was nearby. Try as I might, I never heard a sound.
Ever since that day I never sit without a back stop and at least some kind of space in front of me. Call it paranoia or fear. But I never want another bear to get that close and my not knowing it.

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[Swede]

Early one afternoon I headed into one of my favorite tree stand locations. I dropped off a friend to hike into another stand I had set up. I told him how to find it but was concerned he might have some difficulty. He could not get lost so I merrily went to where I would park my old truck. My hike in was not very far and I could see the tree where I would spend the afternoon and evening from that location. I had no idea how God was watching over me at the time.
After putting on my pack and trigger release, I grabbed my bow and went to the place I had killed a nice bull the first morning of the season before. It was warm and sunny, so I dressed fairly light. When I got to my stand I looked up and around. My drop line was missing. I thought about it and could not remember having a spare cord in the truck. I did not have one in my pack. I sure wished people would leave things like a drop cord alone. I know that don't realize how important they are. It doesn't seem much like stealing to take one as the cost is negligible. I was a little put out by it all, but decided I could hold onto my gear and climb the tree. There were plenty of limbs available above my 12-foot ladder that would get me up to the 20-foot level where my stand was.
Sure enough I got into my stand and felt very comfortable. It was still early, and nothing was stirring. The wind started to blow slightly later on and soon it clouded over. A front was moving in and it was getting cold. I had not planned for this, but it was not too bad so I sat there and watched. I waited until about 6:00 PM when I was good and cold. At that time, I decided to get down. There was still enough daylight that I could go for a hike and do some calling. I had plenty of time before I needed to pick up my friend. Maybe he would be waiting with a story about the big bull he had just killed. He was a good hunter in a good location.
With my pack on I sat the bow on the base platform where I stood in my stand. After getting down to the top limb I picked up the bow and started heading down. I was just above the ladder when I took my hand off one limb to reach for another. Instantly when I released my hand, a limb I was standing on broke, and I was freefalling downward. It happened so fast I had no opportunity to catch ahold of anything. I positioned myself as well as possible for my landing, but it was not good. I landed on my head and shoulders. After that I was unconscious for the next 45 minutes.
When I came to I had no idea where I was or what I was doing. Slowly reasoning started coming to me. I could tell I was hunting because of the camo I was wearing. I wondered where my son was. It took me awhile to remember he was not out on that hunt. I was with his friend. Where was the truck? I looked around to see where I was and saw the truck down the hill. I slowly got up and started out for the truck. I picked up my bow and a couple of scattered arrows that had come out of the quiver. I think I still had my little pack on but it did not matter.
As I got into the truck and set my things down, I had most of my brain functioning again, but I was hurting, and my stomach felt nauseous. I did not feel well at all. I started the truck and headed out.
Fortunately, my friend was at the road waiting for me when I arrived. He was ready to go back to camp, but I briefly told him what had happened and asked him to drive. I needed to go home.
When I got home, my wife wanted me to get checked out at the hospital in town. I told her I just wanted to go to bed. I got up a little late the next day and felt ok. I was just a little sore. That evening I went to the stand where my friend was the day before. He went to a stand close to camp. When I got back to camp, I asked how his hunt had gone. It said it had been uneventful. When he asked about mine, I just said we have our work cut out for us when we finish dinner. I had a nice elk on the ground.

[Lefty]

As Ive gotten older I would like to think I'm a bit wiser and a whole lot safer in what I do. Most of my This happened to me episodes of elk hunting were inconvenient and not life-threatening to me. Hunting buddy got heat stroke, flat tires, dead batteries, truck breakdowns



I’ve had a number of close experiences while trapping. I was on the Minnesota River in early March 1978. Part of the river was open from the warm discharge of the Northern States Power electrical power plant. A beautiful day; brilliant sun, bright blue skies, fluffy white clouds These beavers were on the move on sunny exposed river banks loaded with fresh cut feed sticks.
I slid my boat down towards the river then slid my boat loaded with a handful of traps and gear, nearly 500 yards through the deep snow before putting the 14-foot V hull in the water. Slipping over the bank onto a ledge of ice. and then gliding into the river. My plan was to set three beaver colonies upstream. The first location looked hot. The beavers had worked a small willow patch about 80 yards long. The sun had melted the surface of the bank making the back a snotty slick mess. The river was running clear and fast. The beavers were feeding heavily here, with fresh castor mounds evident along the bank.

I pushed my boat up on an ice shelf, and grabbed some gear to make two sets. I filled two sandbags with gravel from the bottom of the river to make drowning weights at the ends of ten-foot-long drowning cables. A short distance upstream I began to make my first set on a small castor mound. The trap drowning wire was staked on one end, trap was connected with a one-way slide lock, and the sandbag was attached at the other end, which was tossed into deep water with the drowning wire tight. Next, I bedded the trap in 10 inches of water right against the bank. As I unscrewed the cap of the beaver lure bottle
I heard a twig snap quietly some distance out in the open water behind me. A moment later It seemed like someone had tapped me on my shoulder, a chill flowed down my spine; I turned around.

Then pure panic.

Somewhere upstream a piece of ice had broken loose and was now floating downstream straight at me.
It was huge.
The ice slab was 40 yards across, two football fields long, and fully 20 to 30 inches thick!
Hundreds of tons of ice were coming silently straight at me. I wildly tried to climb the bank and slipped. I managed to jump up the slick riverbank only to slide back into the river once, twice, then three times. The ice was moving fast in the current. I calculated the speed of the ice, then timed to jump up on the leading edge. The ice first slammed exactly where I had been standing a fraction of a second before chunk gouged and flattened everything in its path, Then shooting skyward as I balanced on the leading edge, 5 feet, 8 ,10 feet above the ground,50 some feet into the willow patch the willows below. Then weirdly, reversing, I fell 6 feet through the willows to the ground. As the ice seemed to almost silently retreat, back to the river.
Exhausted, I rested in the willow thicket with my chest heaving up and down as I tried to get more air. I said a silent prayer of thanks, fully aware of the narrow chance that I hadn’t been crushed to death
I retrieved my traps and went home, glad to be alive.

[Lefty]

Im sure were missing out on a lot of good stories

Post one or two up