Wasn't hunting just driving down HW 474 from Boerne to Kendalia about a month ago, but saw something that makes for a great outdoor story... It's around noon, no other cars on this little two lane road. Off in the distance about a hundred yards down the road I see something kinda running/hopping down the middle of my lane. I first figured it to be a jackrabbit, but it was so odd looking in the clumsy way it ran that I started slowing down and pulling off into the ditch on the other side. As I approached closer, I realized that it was a fawn, running down the middle of the blacktop highway! This little sucker could not have been more than 48 hours old, probably not that old. When I first got out of the car and walked up close, it layed down on the asphalt and pinned it's ears back trying to hide. I tried several time to scare it off the road and it would just run off a little way and plop down, with ears pinned back to the ground. It did this several times on the road and a couple times just off the shoulder. Not wanting to touch the fawn in any way I kept up with my "deer scaring" techniques till it finally got the message and slid through the Barb wire fence and into the weeds. I still have that picture in my mind of the little guy trying to hide from me in the middle of the road. As luck would have it, no other cars ever passed by during this whole ordeal so of course I have no witness, but IT happened. I never saw a doe nearby, either dead or alive, so I assumed that the little one just got temporarily displaced. I like to think that he made it.

About a dozen years back my brother and I were driving out to the family ranch late one night. About half-way between Llano and Mason we glimpse a monster buck bedded down under an oak tree beside the road. As usual, I slow down, turn around and try to get my lights on the beast to admire his rack. I end up on the shoulder of the road facing the wrong way trying to creep up close enough to get a good look at him in the headlights. I tell my brother, "that buck must be injured." I get out of the truck and throw a mostly empty can of diet coke at the deer to spook him. My aim was true and I hit him broadside to which the deer didn't even flinch. I look back in the truck and say "that buck is dead." As my brother gets out of the car to aid in the investigation, a pair of game wardens roll up out of complete blackness and from their vehicle say "That's enough now. Be on your way!"

To this day I have no idea where they had been hiding.

bump,
will think of something else fossil. i've seen some crazy sheit in my time.

FishingFool ...... It doesn't take much time in the field and stream before you run into a surprising animal antic. But you don't necessarily have to be in the great outdoors to observe some goofy stuff:

A few years ago I had a truck yard off Hwy 21 a couple of miles east of Bryan. I was alone at the yard one day working in the shop when I heard a dog in great distress just out the side door. (I was host to three dumped dogs ... two small noisemakers and one young but pretty large other dog.) I looked outside to see a big doe just outside the shop door stomping and head butting the large dog ... he was on his back and taking a real beating. When I walked out the doe broke off the attack, turned and trotted back to a strip of woods about a hundred yards away. I thought the show was over and went back inside ...

About 20 minutes later I heard another commotion further back in the yard. Again I went outside and darned if that doe didn't have that dog down again ... and he sure wanted to be somewhere else. Again when the doe got sight of me she just trotted back to the same woods. After that foray those dogs never got far from the front slab at the shop.

I figured the doe had a fawn hidden out in those woods and she was making sure those dogs didn't venture into her territory. After the way she treated that big dog, I sure wasn't going into the woods to check out my hunch. (That dog was stove up for several days after that adventure ... those hoofs can do some damage!

Money Game, you think you got suckered by a decoy?

Yeah, sounds like money walked into a poacher sting operation.

I knew a girl up in Wills Point who was experiencing that time of the month. She was in a ground blind, and her Dad was on the other side of the property in another blind. As the story goes, just before daylight, she hears this horrible snort. Then something starts banging on the side of the blind, shaking it violently. Naturally, the girl is scared out of her mind! She starts screaming at the top of her lungs to which her father responds within minutes. As he comes running up to the blind, there is a small buck that has mounted the blind and is going to town on it! He shoots up in the air a few times and scares it off. I guess it caught her "scent".

I am trying to become a Game Warden. About a year ago our local game warden set up a decoy, he said about 5 minutes after he set it up an old truck pulls up. This old man gets out and takes a look, gets a rifle out of his truck and sets up. He fires a shot and hit the decoy, it doesnt move at all. Old man reloads and takes another shot. By this time the game warden has pulled up behind the truck, old man didnt even notice him. The old man takes a third shot while the game warden is walking up. Old man is looking at his gun confused as hell when the game warden yells out "why are you trying to shot my deer". He said the old man was so confused he still didnt understand it was a decoy even after he was handcuffed in the truck.

Game Wardens have my respect. Tough job, easy way to get shot dealing with all the nut jobs that have high powered rifles and the sense God gave a sack or dirty nickles!

We lease out our place near Coleman to deer and turkey hunters and I've gotten to know our warden well enough. He's all business (and a genuinly good guy...some wardens, not so much), but the stories of all the yahoos he's had to deal with.....man oh man!

Oh yeah, they post field notes on their website from each day that I read. Some of the people are big time wackjobs.

Yes, it was a sting. The thing about it, anyone who had spent any time in the Hill Country would know right away that the deer was out of place, easily twice the size of anything running around the Edwards Plateau region.

It was a mount of a South Texas monster-buck in a bedded down, alert position. Game Warden told me the mount wasn't even a year old and already it was "full of holes." The deer had originally been killed by a poacher, who was busted and the buck confiscated. I guess they figured out a way to put it to good use!

They should fill the interior of that mount with explosives. That would really be a surprise for the poachers!

JCHREBEL whats the link to read those field notes?

Game warden notes:

http://www.tpwd.state.tx.us/newsmedia/releases/?req=gwfn

http://www.wildlifedecoys.com/decoys/bear.php

Ears wiggle, heads go up and down, look side to side....funny stuff. I wonder if our hunters wold appreciate a nice big Grizzly bear with a remote control head! Anyone want to lend Crazy a few grand....I promise I'll take pictures!

quote:

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The operator, the passenger, two dogs (apparently sober), boat, trailer and vehicle all ended up in jail or impound.

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If you can read this, thank a teacher.
If you can read this in English, thank a Soldier.

One night we drank a bunch of whiskey and saw a chupacabra....big 'un.

I snapped this photo just before I broke it's neck in self-defense.



Damn possum cop still wrote me up...said I didn't fill out the tag correctly.

1. Had an owl take my hat off my head one night while song dog hunting behind our duck camp in Winnie.

2. While duck hunting during the freeze of 1983 I saw more nutria cannabilism than one man should see in a single lifetime...still gives me chills seeing hundreds of rats eating one another.

3. Saw a boat get struck by lightning out at the Sabine East (Louisiana) Jetties...fortunately no one died, but it ended up welding their Morse steering linkage; looked like one big, slopper solder job.

4. While traveling from Spindletop Gulley to the IC canal to go duck hunting, all of the sudden the sky lit up for about 4 seconds....I mean as bright as day. Best we could figure it was an exploding meteorite. Thought the Apocalypse had started.

5. Saw and heard all kinds of **** after we got lost in a 3 day fog and had to spend 2 nights in the McFaddin NWR. Needless to say, the mind wanders when you're in that situation.

Never, ever go trapsing around in a badass fog. You think you know where you are, but you don't....trust me.

We were on a lease with a guy a few years ago. He shot at a 8 point buck and "missed". The next year he shot an 8 point buck with 3 legs. Yes the deer was missing it's front leg. He was so proud...we just laughed at him. It is pretty cool how a deer can live with only 3 legs in the wild. Weirdest thing I have ever seen.

BosAg, I had a similar situation, but my uncle was the one who "missed" and I finally killed it the next year.

It's amazing that the buck survived as long as it did. It had 1/2 a rack, a spoiled left rear leg, and a broken ankle that he had been hobbling on for quite some time.

5 minutes after I dropped the cripple, a georgous 10pt. came out of the woods and stood broadside for the perfect shot, which I took. I think it was God's way of saying "thanks" for putting one of His creatures out of it's misery.

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If you can read this, thank a teacher.
If you can read this in English, thank a Soldier.

My brother shot a buck not using his front leg. The leg was locked in a fused position and had 2 large firm swellings. It's dewclaws were almost 6 inches long. I took the leg to the pathologist at school and took an x-ray. There were several bullet fragments in it but the fractures had healed. The best part was one of my dad's buddies had shot at a 'huge' buck at that stand the season before and said he missed. This was a little 2.5 year old 8 point. Tough ******* though.

When I lived in Childress a few years back I saw something that changed my BBQ practices forever.

The county trapper killed about 15-18 coyotes on a friends place one summer. Instead of hauling them off, he put them in a big pile and left them in the hot 110+ degree July Childress style heat. They were there by the gate for two weeks. I went out to check the water with him one morning. I was dreading having to get out and suffer through the stench.

We drove up and there were no coyotes. Just some hair and a few jaw bones. What we did see was a whole bunch of hog tracks and scat. Some pigs came through over night and ate ever one of those stinking, rotting, bloated, maggot infested coyotes.

I have never eaten nor cooked wild pig since.

Darn Killer .... I may not even be able to eat canned Cure 81 ham after that post!

thanks killer i will also never eat wild hogs again.

Just adds to the flavor. As long as they aren't disease ridden, I don't really care what they've eaten.

I have even had a hard time eating coyotes since then.

Wild pigs are just nasty. No other way to put it. Came across a "ripe" doe carcass a year or two ago that was moving??? Out popped two little piglets, that were inside enjoying a little snack. I was so floored I just watched them run off!

ttt

quote:

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r-K 89
posted 10:46a, 07/19/06

I have even had a hard time eating coyotes since then.

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Self edit. This is just not right.

[This message has been edited by Fishing Fools (edited 7/25/2006 11:02p).]

I have done my share of hunting, mainly dove, quail, ducks and geese and in earlier times rabbits. My most memorable hunt would not be classified as my best or worst time ... I suppose the only apt description would be most dazzling.

Back in the distant past when I was about 14-15 if I had no pressing chores, as soon as I got off the school bus I would grab my Model 12 Winchester 20 ga and head for the about 60 acre pasture behind our house. My dog at the time was part shepherd and part Heize 57 and he loved those treks ... he was waiting for me at the mail box every day, excited and ready.

We had the usual assortment of critters in the pasture ... jackrabbits, cotton tails, coyotes, bobcats and other varmints. My quest, if I had one would be an old jackrabbit to give the dog a thrill. The dog was no way fast enough to catch a jackrabbit but the chase would be long and lively and if one got a good vantage point he could watch a good deal of it and get a kick out of the tricks an old jackrabbit could pull out to confuse and confound the average country dog.

If you have never watched jackrabbits teasing a dog you have missed a good show. It is a tossup to say the dog jumped the rabbit or the rabbit jumped the dog ... I feel sure old jackrabbits thoroughly enjoyed a good chase on a lazy afternoon. I have watched rabbits make a large circle and come back over its previous trail to confuse the scent; I have watched rabbits suddenly double back and almost collide with a close trailing dog; and I have seen other jackrabbits not originally involved in the chase dart between the dog and original quarry causing a dog to almost stop completely in indecision on which one to pursue.

This one notable afternoon, the dog had gone on ahead while I moseyed along through a patch of mesquite along a cow trail. Then I heard the dog start his bark that I knew was the jackrabbit sound. I was eager to get out of the brush so I started into a trot along the trail hoping to get to a better vantage point. The trail dropped down into a gulley and up the other side. I had just started up the other side when suddenly I glimpsed a gray blur coming directly at me. That jackrabbit had chosen the same cowtrail that I was on in the opposite direction ... and just as I was coming up out of the gulley he made a leap from the crest of the gulley. Neither of us had a chance to avoid the collision ... and from my standpoint, that rabbit won that bout hands down. I took his full force of a flying rabbit in my upper chest ... and all the wind in my body left me. What seemed like several minutes I was able to catch my breath and sit up when WHAM, my dog had leaped from the same spot the rabbit had jumped from at the crest of the gully and darned if he didn't land right smack on top of me. This was too much for me. I just lay on my back moaning and groaning. Poor old dog must have been too confused or too shocked to remember what he had been up to a few minutes before so he just laid down beside me. We limped home together after a spell and did not hunt again for a few days.

During those idle days I couldn't get that jackrabbit off my mind. That sucker had probably watched our routine over several days and knew just exactly where to position himself to expose himself to the dog and just when I would be coming out of that gulley. Yep, I am convinced that old jackrabbit set that trap for us and both I and the dog paid the price for not being smart enough to avoid it. Beware of West Texas jackrabbits.




[This message has been edited by fossil_ag (edited 7/26/2006 11:16p).]

post #100!

My grandpa was a WWII sniper and was simply an amazing shot. He routinely took many large whitetails in South Texas and Mexico at over 300 yards with iron sights and never used a scope til he was 60 and his eye sight started failing.

One pasture we had was split in half by a FM road that was notorious for road hunting. After trying to get the game wardens out there to stop it with little luck, he decided to take it into his own hands. He set up a tree stand just off the road out of sight. One morning he and I set up in the tree to see what transpired. Shortly after daylight, we see a few does feeding on the treeline, and sure enough, an old junker truck pulls up and out steps a raggedy looking dude with a rifle.

The dude looks around to check out the scene and decides to take a leak before committing the crime. My grandpa waits til he's mid stream and cut loose a 30-06 right between his feet. The guy jumps up with his pecker still in his hands and runs around to the drivers side. As he is getting in the truck, Grandpa puts another one into the ground under his feet. The dumb ass drove off and left his gun on the ground.

Later, that day the game warden and constable show up at the house to find out what happened. Grandpa tells them and gives them the gun. Needless to say, we didn't have poachers out there for several years.

80s, kudos to your grandpa. Any stories you want to tell about WWII sniping would probably be well received around this forum as well.

He passed away in March, but he didn't like to tell many stories about that. He spent some time over in the Pacific and saw some pretty nasty stuff at Guadacanal.

However, he had some doozie hunting stories. Two I love in particular had to do with big coons near Eagle Pass. One of the guys he hunted with trapped a huge boar coon and kept him in a cage at camp for a few days. One night while sitting around the fire, some of the guys decided to see if the coon would drink some whiskey. The coon loved it and stayed drunk for two days. One of the other guys tried to get him to drink some home made wine and the coon turned his nose up at it and turned over the bowl. When it was time to head back home to Jackson County, someone decided that the coon would be a welcome addition to the breeding population in the post oak thickets. They got about ten miles out of camp before the whiskey sheits hit that coon hard and he covered the bed of the truck in hershey goo. They pulled over in Cotulla to gas up and the attendents refused to fill the tanks. Needless to say, outside of town the coon got released.

Another coon story was a couple of years later during a real cold snap. A coon decided to raid the camp house and got caught. A shot of Double Aught buck dispatched him rather quickly. My grandpa left him out behind the camp house for the coyotes to clean it up. The coon actually froze with one eye closed, one arm up, and looking like he was in pain. So as prank, he and my dad put the coon in the outhouse, wrapped some paper around the hand and covered his eye with a patch. An hour or so after dinner, one of the guys decided to use the facilities. All they heard was him hollering, "WHAT THE HELL!!!!" and four shots from his .44 Mag. A few minutes later, he brings what's left of the coon and throws himat my grandpa.

A lesson to thoroughly wash your hands.

About three years ago while dove hunting at our lease in San Angelo i got hold of some pretty nasty critters. The land we hunt is also used to run sheep on as well. As usual we had a sucessful hunt at one of the ponds surrounded by big mesquites for roosting. So being the youngest hunter and hunting for free with my dad, grandpa and some other guys i got the job for cleaning the doves. I cleaned them all while they did their usual taunting of me while i did the work. I got through and washed my hands off with water and dish soap and then went and started a fire.

Well about three days later i'm sitting in English class and my hands start kind of burning and itching horribly. Patches start to rise up and form similar to poison ivy. I assumed i got into it when i picked up a dove out of the brush or something, no big deal. After a week my hands start to swell up a little bit and the little bumps are everywhere on my hands. I then went to the dermatologist who told me, as funny as it sounds, i had gotten scabes on my hands. Two days of medicine and it was gone like it was never there before. I did some research about Concho county and about sheep. Comes to find out sheep can carry the scabes and we were hunting at one of their favorite watering holes. I continued to research and doves were found in that area with scabes.

I always take a bottle of Purel hand sanitizer with me when im hunting from now on. I guess dish soap and tap water weren't enough.