Hunting Regrets

soupcreek

Active Member
Messages
259
Do you have a hunting regret? I have one that has haunted me for more than 3 decades.

In about 1986 I was hunting with my dad, little brother (12), uncle and cousin (17). We were at our sacred family elk hunting grounds in Montana. I was about 14.

My dad and uncle love to hunt elk. Our favorite family spot is pretty remote and therefore, holds a lot of elk. In 1986 it also held a lot of deer. Our camp is about a 2 hour hike almost straight uphill, and we have to pack in our own water. My dad and uncle's philosophy was always, "Why would you shoot a deer back here? You can shoot a mule deer next to the road! This is an elk hunting trip." With that philosophy in mind, they granted conditional permission to shoot a deer, as follows: "If you shoot a deer back here, you have to eat the liver, raw." I knew it was an idle threat, but at 14, it still made me worry a little.

Early in the week my dad and uncle were successful in taking a couple of small bulls off the mountian. Late Wednesday night we went down to town to get more hay for the horses. After getting the hay we hiked back up the mountain in the dark. I also carried in a couple gallons of drinking water on my back. About 2/3 the way up the mountain I realized that I no longer had my hunting rifle. I had set it down somewhere on the trail below me and I wasn't sure where. I was so tired from three days worth of hunting, packing elk, and carrying water on my back that I couldn't bring myself to go back down the mountain and look for my rifle in the dark. I opted to go back down in the morning and find it in the light.

The next morning I headed back down the trail with my dad and found the rifle only about 100 yards from where I had discovered it missing the night before. As we got back into camp about 8:30 a.m., we heard a shot from over the hill where my little brother and cousin had gone to hunt. My heart dropped a little. I knew hearing that shot meant and that I had missed an opportunity, maybe even a chance at a big buck.

About 10 minutes later, my brother and cousin came back into camp having a really strange argument. My 12 year old brother (on his first hunt ever) was sobbing his eyes out screaming, "He shot a doe! He shot a DOE! I'm not going to eat the liver!!!!" My cousin on the other hand, had his hands spread really wide and was screaming, "Its THIS BIG! It's THIS BIG!" As the dust settled, we tried figure out exactly what had happened.

My uncle had previously told my cousin that the way you tell which buck in a group is the biggest is by looking at which buck's horns go out the widest from his rump. My cousin and brother had had a group of deer walk out below them in the basin. There were a number of bucks in the group. My cousin said that there were two really big bucks. The one he shot and another that was, "a really tall buck with 7-8 points on each side, not quite as wide as the buck I shot". My little brother (who was hunting with open sights) had been focused the buck that, to him, appeared to easily be the biggest buck. When the deer next to it dropped, he got confused and thought it was one of the does in the group tumbling down the mountain. He immediately envisioned himself having to eat the liver raw for participating in the harvest of a mule deer doe so far from the roads. The intensity of the situation got to him and he burst into tears. Because of the confusion they both just came back to camp to get help without even going down to examine the deer.

Back at camp we tried to get everything sorted out and then all trucked out to find out who was right. Was it a huge buck, or a doe? As it turns out, my cousin had shot a really heavy 30 1/2 inch wide, very old, slick 4X4 with a white face and a roman nose. Its teeth were almost gone. It was a really nice buck, especially for Montana standards. I was then left to task of being pack mule (again), and spending the next 32+ years pondering why I left my gun on the hillside the night before, and regretting the fact that I didn't go get it that night. For years I have wondered exactly how big the buck next to my cousin's was. I have put myself there and shot it a thousand times in my mind. And in my mind, he was definitely HUGE! Unfortunately, there is no going back. I will never know how big he really was.

I will say, though, that I have never left my gun on the hillside again!

Feel free to share a hunting regret if you have one.

Have a great weekend!

-Soup
 
Back in 1972 I got a new scope for my Winchester model 88 308. It was my first scope (yes, back in the day most of us couldn't afford them and used open sights) On opening weekend of the mule deer season we took horses all the way to the top of some granite peaks near my home. It was prime deer country back then and a foot of snow covered the peak. When it got light enough to see a string of crazy big bucks went across the peak and when someone started shooting they came straight down the mountain right toward me. I was so excited I about wet myself!
But when I threw up that brand new scope I could not find the deer. You see I had sighted in, but never practiced getting on a target. The biggest buck, probably 30" heavy typical stopped next to a tree about 100 yards away, giving me plenty of time to drop him. But I could not find him in the scope. I'd throw it up and put it down and throw it up again. He finally bounded over the hill without me ever getting a shot.
My regret is either I wish I had never gotten the scope, or I wish I would have practiced finding game with it.
It was 39 year later before I took a buck like him, but that many years of practice helped me find things in my scope.
 
>Do you have a hunting regret?
> I have one that
>has haunted me for more
>than 3 decades.
>
>In about 1986 I was hunting
>with my dad, little brother
>(12), uncle and cousin (17).
> We were at our
>sacred family elk hunting grounds
>in Montana. I was
>about 14.
>
>My dad and uncle love to
>hunt elk. Our favorite
>family spot is pretty remote
>and therefore, holds a lot
>of elk. In 1986
>it also held a lot
>of deer. Our camp
>is about a 2 hour
>hike almost straight uphill, and
>we have to pack in
>our own water. My
>dad and uncle's philosophy was
>always, "Why would you shoot
>a deer back here?
>You can shoot a mule
>deer next to the road!
> This is an elk
>hunting trip." With that
>philosophy in mind, they granted
> conditional permission to shoot
>a deer, as follows:
>"If you shoot a deer
>back here, you have to
>eat the liver, raw."
>I knew it was an
>idle threat, but at 14,
>it still made me worry
>a little.
>
>Early in the week my dad
>and uncle were successful in
>taking a couple of small
>bulls off the mountian.
>Late Wednesday night we went
>down to town to get
>more hay for the horses.
> After getting the hay
>we hiked back up the
>mountain in the dark. I
>also carried in a couple
>gallons of drinking water on
>my back. About 2/3
>the way up the mountain
>I realized that I no
>longer had my hunting rifle.
> I had set it
>down somewhere on the trail
>below me and I wasn't
>sure where. I was
>so tired from three days
>worth of hunting, packing elk,
>and carrying water on my
>back that I couldn't bring
>myself to go back down
>the mountain and look for
>my rifle in the dark.
> I opted to go
>back down in the morning
>and find it in the
>light.
>
>The next morning I headed back
>down the trail with my
>dad and found the rifle
>only about 100 yards from
>where I had discovered it
>missing the night before.
>As we got back into
>camp about 8:30 a.m., we
>heard a shot from over
>the hill where my little
>brother and cousin had gone
>to hunt. My heart
>dropped a little. I
>knew hearing that shot meant
>and that I had missed
>an opportunity, maybe even a
>chance at a big buck.
>
>
>About 10 minutes later, my brother
>and cousin came back into
>camp having a really strange
>argument. My 12 year
>old brother (on his first
>hunt ever) was sobbing his
>eyes out screaming, "He shot
>a doe! He shot
>a DOE! I'm not going
>to eat the liver!!!!"
>My cousin on the other
>hand, had his hands spread
>really wide and was screaming,
>"Its THIS BIG! It's
>THIS BIG!" As the
>dust settled, we tried figure
>out exactly what had happened.
>
>
>My uncle had previously told my
>cousin that the way you
>tell which buck in a
>group is the biggest is
>by looking at which buck's
>horns go out the widest
>from his rump. My
>cousin and brother had had
>a group of deer walk
>out below them in the
>basin. There were a
>number of bucks in the
>group. My cousin said
>that there were two really
>big bucks. The one
>he shot and another that
>was, "a really tall buck
>with 7-8 points on each
>side, not quite as wide
>as the buck I shot".
> My little brother (who
>was hunting with open sights)
>had been focused the buck
>that, to him, appeared to
>easily be the biggest buck.
> When the deer next
>to it dropped, he got
>confused and thought it was
>one of the does in
>the group tumbling down the
>mountain. He immediately envisioned
>himself having to eat the
>liver raw for participating in
>the harvest of a mule
>deer doe so far from
>the roads. The intensity
>of the situation got to
>him and he burst into
>tears. Because of the
>confusion they both just came
>back to camp to get
>help without even going down
>to examine the deer.
>
>Back at camp we tried to
>get everything sorted out and
>then all trucked out to
>find out who was right.
> Was it a huge
>buck, or a doe?
>As it turns out, my
>cousin had shot a really
>heavy 30 1/2 inch wide,
>very old, slick 4X4 with
>a white face and a
>roman nose. Its teeth
>were almost gone. It
>was a really nice buck,
>especially for Montana standards.
>I was then left to
>task of being pack mule
>(again), and spending the next
>32+ years pondering why I
>left my gun on the
>hillside the night before, and
>regretting the fact that I
>didn't go get it that
>night. For years I
>have wondered exactly how big
>the buck next to my
>cousin's was. I have
>put myself there and shot
>it a thousand times in
>my mind. And in my
>mind, he was definitely HUGE!
> Unfortunately, there is no
>going back. I will
>never know how big he
>really was.
>
>I will say, though, that I
>have never left my gun
>on the hillside again!
>
>Feel free to share a hunting
>regret if you have one.
>
>
>Have a great weekend!
>
>-Soup

Bahahaha. That isn't a regret. Its s learning curve and anybody that says they don't have 50 or those stories and at least one from every hunt is lying! Or damm lucky. Every stalk that doesn't end with a kill ends with a "why didn't I blah blah vlah".
 
Last year my son had a limited entry Bull tag. We noticed a nice bull out in the open and was unable to get a good look due to heat waves in the glass. So we moved in for a closer look. A couple hundred yards from where we would be able to get a good look at him we stumble upon a different bull bedded down sound asleep with 30 cows not 100 yds away no clue we were there. My son took one look and decided he wanted this second bull which he harvested. Sweet 6pt 340" bull. Not getting a good look at that 1st bull which I think we could have gotten too just won't leave my mind. My boy will not likely get another hunt like this in his life and I feel the 1st bull was significantly larger than the bull he harvested. Not that anyone is disappointed but the regret of perhaps pushing the hunt just a little bit more to get some glass on #1 would have removed any curiousity.

Still one of the most memorable and enjoyable hunts we have ever done pushing many limits. Except 1. :) :) :)

"Courage is being scared to death but
saddling up anyway."
 
Drew a bull elk tag for the Mogollon Rim and took my friend with me ,his first ever hunt.As we ascended the mountain he started to be come agitated because of the fog and zero visibility.He had a full on panic attack.and I thought it may be altitude sickness.Took him down to our cabin and spent the night,symptoms did not improve.So I drove him all the way back to Phoenix.There he was fine! drove all he way back up to set up camp again.and first/last day of my once in a lifetime hunt walked up on a gut pile just outside of camp.I hunt alone now and always will.
 
Back in the Day!

Me & A couple Huntin Friends Thought We Were Perty Bad!

We Could Hit a Paper Plate at 25 Yards with Our F'N Recurves!

We Hiked for about an Hour & Then Crawled/Snuck the last 30 Minutes to Peak off in a Hole that always had Bucks in it!

As We wait for enough Light to even See what was there!

We see 14 Bucks in the bottom about 350 Yards almost straight/Vertical down below us!

All 4 Point or Better and a REAL WallHanger that was already Grayed Off!

We sit & Watch in AWE!

I'm Thinking:

GOOD GAWD what I'd give to have My 7MAG & have it be Rifle Season!

But there We Sat!

A Sight that would Burn My Brain Forever with a F'N StickFlipper in My Hand!

We Whispered Back & Forth!

Trying to come up with a Battle Plan!

My Buddy Mentioning 45'ing An Arrow in Hopes it would Land Below them & they might Run up out of the Hole up where We were at!

I Kinda Laughed Silently in my Mind & decided there wasn't many other Options!

We get as ready as We can!

We Lay All of Our Arrows out next to us so We can Shoot Fast & Quick & Often!:D

My Buddy 45's An Arrow in to the Hole & All the Bucks Jumped & Started Running up & out & headed Our Way!

Granted,They Were All Running like no other when they crested in front of us!

Every F'N Arrow We Had was Flipped!

And Not a Buck Touched!

To See the Big Gray Buck Run away from us giving us that View from Behind is still Etched in My Brain!

What I'd of Gave for My 7MAG that Day!

But We were Young!

And We Felt really Helpless that Day when it was all said & done!

Everything had kinda Fell in to place as Perfect as Planned!

Other than Neither one of us taking a Buck that day!

Not really having any Regrets other than I wish I had known then what I know now!

Or Should I say I wished I had the Hunting Weapons back then that we have now!

We Hunted & Toyed with that Big Ole Grayed off Buck for 4 years & Never did get another Shot at Him!

He Kicked My Butt on Many Occasions!

And He Won!

























I know so many people in so many places
They make allot of money but they got sad faces

It Ain't Easy being Me!:D:D:D
 
I mistakenly shot the wrong bull on a Once in a Lifetime Utah moose hunt. Was so pissed at myself I never even took any pictures and was easily one of the biggest blunders I've ever made.
 
My boy leaves for Africa this Thursday the 28th. with his boss and I'm not going with.... My biggest regret hasn't happened yet, but it's only days away...
 
>I mistakenly shot the wrong bull
>on a Once in a
>Lifetime Utah moose hunt. Was
>so pissed at myself I
>never even took any pictures
>and was easily one of
>the biggest blunders I've ever
>made.


That Reminds me Foreman4X4!

About 20 Years ago!

30 Minutes before Dusk!

I Spot a Buck with His Head down Feeding in the Brush!

I Throwed My Pack Down!

Got Me a Dead Rest!

I Knew it was a Big Bodied Buck!

But You gotta see the HeadGear before you Shoot,Right?

I Kept Looking through My Scope!

Then I'd Peak above My Scope with My Bare Eyes watching Him!

This Went on for what seemed like forever!

I Just peaked over the Top of My Scope & This Big SOB was Running toward a Pine Thicket!

I Got Back on Him just as He Got in the Pines!

But I was Ready!

The Second Horns & Gray started out of the Pines on the other Side!

I Squoze the Trigger!

Down He goes!

Then a Mili-Second later the Buck I had been Watching Runs out Dwarfing the Buck I Put on the Ground!

He even came back to the Buck I shot & tried getting Him going as I sit there watching & Wondering What I'd just Pulled off!

The Buck I Shot wasn't Bad!

But Sure the Hell not the Caliber of Buck I Coulda Shot 20 Times & watching Him Finally Trot off!

Yup!

I FRICKED that Deal Up!












I know so many people in so many places
They make allot of money but they got sad faces

It Ain't Easy being Me!:D:D:D
 
I would imagine it was close to 25 years ago. I was young and full of myself. I came in first or second in every 3D shoot and had killed five bulls in five years with five arrows and I enjoyed the local notoriety. My father on the other hand loved the outdoors and family and always came with me because of me more than the hunting. Well this year I hadn't killed my bull and we were down to the last few days of the season and I could see my so called notoriety going up in smoke when a bull answered our call. As the bull started to come in my dad and I set up across from each other to cover more shooting lanes but we could still just see each other for safety. All of a sudden I could see the bull coming through the trees and wanting him so bad that I took a risky shoot which was a clean miss. As the bull ran off I looked over at my dad and realized the bull was about to step into a perfect shooting lane for him and I had blown his opportunity to kill his first bull with a bow. I felt so bad that I put my ego before thinking of my father that I swore that day I would be the person that would be more happy for my friends and family when they got something than I would be for myself when I got something.
I think this is what's missing in a lot of hunting today.
My Dad has never said a word to me about that time.
 
Mine would be my Utah desert sheep hunt 2016.
Was only able to make one scouting trip, but had a buddy who's uncle new the unit well, and was more than happy to help!!!
They found a stud ram the day before I got there, but he seemed to be moving around a lot...
I got there, and we went out the next morning. After just a few minutes of glassing, my buddy finds him. We decide we could cover the ground needed pretty easily undetected with the terrain we had.
We get to the last ridge and peer over. There he was, 100 yards away and coming right at us with two ewes, feeding, oblivious of our presence.
If you have ever seen a book ram this close is a sight, but to see it at 100 yards through a 6-24 power scope on max power was amazing!!!
To good to be true, right?
Exactly!!!
I shot over that ram 5 times before I realized I had my fancy new scope turret still set at 500 yards from the previous days practice session. The last shot I almost got him because he had made it out to 300 yards at this point, before he was gone...
Everyone had to leave the next day, and I hunted the next five days looking for him by myself. I actually turned him up once, but he was on high alert and a failed stock blew him out for good I was afraid?
The next day I turned up a ram that I had seen a couple days previous, and decided he was good enough for me. Poked a hole in him, in his bed, right at 300 yards!!!
Not the big boy, but still respectable at 162?...
Regret is ever having that fancy gun built with that fancy scope on there! Should have took my boys youth model 7mm08 with a straight 6 power scope!
I have nightmares at least once a week!!!
 
I Think if All Hunters are Honest!

Everyone of us have a Few of these stories!









I know so many people in so many places
They make allot of money but they got sad faces

It Ain't Easy being Me!:D:D:D
 
In 2011 I finally drew a LE bull tag in Utah with a muzzy. Hunted hard for a week and passed up some really good bulls in pursuit of a couple spectacular bulls.

Long story short, I ended up working my way in between two bulls bugling in the junipers. One was about a 280 bull and the other was a bull we had hunted for three days that was somewhere north of 370-380.

Found a small shooting lane in the thick trees....



..and killed the wrong bull.
 
About 15 years ago, I was hunting deer in southern Utah. My cousin and I had been watching a big hillside all morning. Suddenly, out of nowhere, there was a buck feeding there all alone with no clue that we were there. He was a nice boxy 4-point, probably about 27-28" wide, 180-185". Great buck for that area.

I didn't have a range finder back then, but we knew he was out of my range (probably around 500 yards). So we decided to make a big loop and try to get above him. When we got closer we couldn't see him anymore. I thought he must be gone so we just kept inching closer, now under 100 yards.

Well he was still there, bedded behind some trees, but not for long. I got two shots off as he bolted out across the flat, right past where we were sitting earlier that morning. We checked for blood for the rest of that afternoon. Never found any (would've been a miracle). And never saw that buck again.

The sight of him running away is still burned in my memory. My big regret is that we weren't more patient. If we'd just waited him out, he'd probably be hanging on my wall right now.
 
I can not say which of my regrets is my biggest or most impactful. I can say I have regrets from every year and they all hurt at the time, now all I can do is laugh at any of them.

But my most recent and at the moment most hurtful one happened last year in the rifle deer hunt.

I missed a once in a lifetime buck on the rifle hunt. He was well over a 200" typical, and I had him at chip shot range. I still to this day do not know what happened or how it happened or why it happened. But I can difinetly say that it was not an equipment failure!!!

But I had a huge as stated above well over 200" typical 4x4 at 96 yards, broadside, feeding with no clue I was there. I gave myself ample time to calm down and play and practice the shot.

When the time came that I thought I was prepared to actually do the deed..... everything went awry. I ended up getting 7 shots, ranging from 96yds to 451yds over a very long and extended period of time. And never once hit him, he'll barely even scared him.

3 hours later I was sitting at a "range" out to 841 yards. Took 6 shots from 100 to 841 and was dead on.
 
So many I can't even remember them all!

Blown stalks, missed shots, oversleeping, etc, etc, etc.

Mostly I regret the days that I DIDN'T hunt more than any day I did!
 
LAST EDITED ON Jun-23-18 AT 06:55PM (MST)[p]I was on an archery elk hunt in Arizona, I had been dogging a couple of vocal bulls all morning for several miles, got a brief look at one of the bulls and he was a 300ish 6x6 plenty big enough for me to kill, but never did get a look at the other bull.

Finally they stopped moving on a steep fairly open smaller slot canyon coming off of a mesa. the bull I seen kept on going but the bull I hadn't was still being fairly vocal and staying in the same area I figured to bed down so I snuck in, I figured he was a smaller bull judging by his bugle finally I snuck to the edge where I could look off into where I had just heard him bugle.......and nothing not an elk in site, so I sneak a bit closer to the edge keeping my eye down the draw as that's where I thought he was, finally I'm fully exposed and baffled as there is no elk in sight.

Then all of a sudden he is right there in front of me to the right of where I thought he was, and he is HUGE!!!! well over 400 and only 40 yards away. I have a complete come apart and panic, I get my bow drawn back, but the brush is too tall and covering his vitals, at this point instead of calmly waiting to see if he will step out I start moving around trying to get a clear shot, he bolted and I cow call and he stops at about 60 yards but still no shot.

He then turns and runs away and I have plenty of time to watch as a legit 400+ (closer to 420-430) 6x6 gathers up his cows and runs out of my life forever.

I figure at the time he would have easily made top 5 all time typical with a bow and I personally think he would have been #1 or #2. As a strait 6 too.



Jake H. BIG BONE HUNTING Page on Facebook.
458738e374dfcb10.jpg
 
Mid 1990's my 1st year archery hunting for elk as I had just moved to Colorado. Went hunting with a few friends on the edge of the Flat Tops. We went to different areas for a night hunt as we wanted to cover more ground as we were having a hard time finding elk. I'm sneaking through a nice looking area with dark timber, a little water, and a few small clearings when I heard a bugle about 200 yards in front of me. I started answering with a few bugles (and I was a really bad caller at the time). We bugled back and forth while I bellied crawled to get closer. Had to be a BIG bull by the calls. It took me about an hour to cover the distance. I finally got to the spot that the bull had to be, and a hunter in a tree stand said hello directly above me. He was laughing his ass off. My regret was that I did not climb up his stand and bloody his nose. I think I was to to embarrassed and just walked away. Certainly did not tell my friends about it.
 
Most recent was last year bowhunting for elk in Wyoming. My brother and I found an awesome active wallow, so I set up mid day & waited. At about 12:30 in the afternoon I am laying in my ground blind & hear splashing in the wallow. I look over & there is a nice bull kicking water all over. I roll to my knees & draw back, but find several pine branches in my sight picture. There is a very small opening that I think I can thread my arrow through and I release. Next thing I know all hell breaks loose as the elk takes off one way & my arrow deflects another way.

If I had it to do over again, I would not have rushed my shot and would have stood up to avoid the pine branches rather than taking a kneeling shot. That bull was not going anywhere & it was a slam dunk 33 yard shot. Woulda coulda shoulda...
 
>Mid 1990's my 1st year archery
>hunting for elk as I
>had just moved to Colorado.
>Went hunting with a few
>friends on the edge of
>the Flat Tops. We went
>to different areas for a
>night hunt as we wanted
>to cover more ground as
>we were having a hard
>time finding elk. I'm sneaking
>through a nice looking area
>with dark timber, a little
>water, and a few small
>clearings when I heard a
>bugle about 200 yards in
>front of me. I started
>answering with a few bugles
>(and I was a really
>bad caller at the time).
>We bugled back and forth
>while I bellied crawled to
>get closer. Had to be
>a BIG bull by the
>calls. It took me about
>an hour to cover the
>distance. I finally got to
>the spot that the bull
>had to be, and a
>hunter in a tree stand
>said hello directly above me.
>He was laughing his ass
>off. My regret was that
>I did not climb up
>his stand and bloody his
>nose. I think I was
>to to embarrassed and just
>walked away. Certainly did not
>tell my friends about it.
>

LMMFAO!

You Know How Many Hunters I've Called In?

Almost Funner than Calling Bulls in!:D









I know so many people in so many places
They make allot of money but they got sad faces

It Ain't Easy being Me!:D:D:D
 
LAST EDITED ON Jun-23-18 AT 09:29PM (MST)[p]In NM, bears are OTC hunts, but each bear zone has a quota, and you're required to report your harvest to the G&F so that they can shut the zone down once the quota is met; and if you're going to hunt bears, you need to check the G&F website to make certain the zone you intend to hunt is still open.

Although I generally don't go out of my way to hunt bears, I usually buy a tag every year just in case I see one while hunting something else.

About five years ago, I was helping a friend with his elk hunt in one of the NM 16s. Most years, all quotas are met and the zones are all closed well before any rifle elk hunt starts, so I didn't even bother to check the website before leaving on this hunt. On the morning of the first day, we dropped into a timbered canyon where we saw a herd of elk go about an hour earlier. We get to the very bottom of the drainage and I smell something dead. I started to say something about it to my friend when I see his eyes get big as golf balls and he motions with his rifle to our left. I look over to see this beach ball of a head fixed on top of a very large bear's body stand up on its hind legs to look down at us. He was the biggest black bear I have ever seen, and he was inside 25 feet. He had been feeding on a dead cow elk when we interupted his breakfast. I was packing a Taurus judge for just such an occasion, and now had it drawn, and my friend now had his rifle up, ready to shoot. It was a pretty intense stand off for about 10 or 15 seconds when my friend asked out loud: "What should we do?" And I answered, that "unless he charged, we just back away and let him walk." At the sound of our voices, the bear lowered back down on all fours, slowly turned while looking back at us, and stomach nearly dragging the ground, walked up over the hill and out of sight. I remarked to my friend that we had just had a close encounter with a record book black bear.

It was not until after he walked over the hill that I remembered that I had a bear license in my pack, but I wasn't too worked up about it, because I was sure that the zone had been closed for at least a month.

My friend got his elk an hour after the bear encounter, and we spent the rest of that day packing out elk, but I could not shake the image of that furry beach ball head with tiny ears looking down on us.


Five years later, and I still have dreams about this, but that's not the worst part. The worst part came after I got home and checked the G&F website. As you've already guessed, the zone was still open... :-(
 
I love to read posts like this and the fascinating responses. I'll share one, don't know if it's exactly a regret, more of a wish I "woulda/coulda/shoulda"...but it's a regret that haunts me to this day. I had been on a family hunt all week, and had only a couple of days left to hunt. I was looking for a nice buck, but had only seen a lot of small ones, and I was feeling discouraged. To add insult-to-injury, I had a flat tire on my vehicle. I decided to go in to town and have the tire repaired, and not chance being in remote/rugged country w/o a spare. I had just left camp, when much to my chagrin, I had another flat. As I exited the vehicle to at least survey the damage, my gaze caught a deer in the shadows of a nearby creek, a really nice buck with his body frozen, water dripping from his mouth.I gingerly edged back to the door of the vehicle, eased the door open, and grabbed for my rifle, about the same time the warning went off for key in the ignition, sounding every bit as loud as a ship's klaxon! I thought I was home free and would have time for a shot, until I caught the rifle sling on the floor gear shift, losing precious seconds. The buck was on the move, and I couldn't pick him up in the shadows. I stumbled up a slight rise adjacent to where the buck was last, sat down and waited. Out came several does and a small buck; then I just played a waiting game; alas it was not meant to be: I caught the buck way off, running full bore to make his escape. I did end up tagging out on a small buck on this hunt, but as I said, the memory is etched in my mind forever. Deer hunting, for me ALWAYS an adventure! :)
 
LAST EDITED ON Jun-23-18 AT 10:59PM (MST)[p]Third morning of the general season elk hunt. Just light enough to see and a bull sounds off below me in a familiar clear cut of mine. There are 4-6 foot new growth pines scattered all over this clear cut. I inch my way down through the old growth trying to catch a glimpse of him and his cows. I am approaching "the fort" I had made a few years earlier out of a pile of deadfall as a place for cover to watch the clear cut in the evenings. I finally catch a glimpse of the bulls antlers down below me in the clear cut. He is behind a 4 foot pine, laying down, bugling every few minutes. I make it to the fort, I have a dead rest on the top log of the fort, adrenaline pumping, looking him over through the scope. I count six points on both sides but I cannot see his neck or vitals. I decide to wait him out until he stands up. Just for kicks, I range him. He is 237 yards. I am shooting a 300 RUM 4.5-14 power scope. But I wait. For a half hour, I listen to this bull sound off until finally he jumps up and bolts to the thick timber without warning, at one of the only times I had let my guard down to give my eye a rest from looking through the scope!

Fast forward to the very next year. I go back to the same spot opening morning and start down to the fort through the old growth. As it gets light, I stop roughly 75 yards from the fort as I had a clear window down into the clear cut. I began to relive the whole experience and regret of the prior elk hunt. I stared into that opening and as my mind vividly recalled every detail of that experience, a tan hid materialized out of the trees directly behind where I had seen the six point bedded the year before! Then another tan hide appeared. A cow and a calf were out feeding. Within one minute, antlers materialized from the trees and a nice 6 point bull walked out and started bugling in the exact spot that bull the year before was laying and bugling!

I kneeled down, threw my pack off, ranged the bull at 310 yards, got the shooting sticks out and steadied for a shot. The bull turned sideways and the rest is history. That was a year for the books as my dad had a big six point shot out from underneath him that same morning in another clear cut. So he helped me get my elk taken care of and then we hunted the same clearing that night. Dad was able to kill a rag horn 4x5 right before dark not even 300 yards from where I dumped that 6 point!

So the story started with regret, but ended with success. However, I relive that story of regret every year that I walk through that clear cut.
 
One hunt in particular sticks in my mind simply because the outcome was completely unexpected. Thirty years ago I located my first really big buck. I had drawn an archery tag for the unit and had patterned him pretty well. My best opportunity would be to set a stand among some oaks just short of his bedding area, but none of these trees were straight enough to install any commercial device. And so I elected to place two boards in the notches of the branches of the oak. As it turned out, I could stand on one while leaning against the other and still feel pretty secure. The trail he followed came within three yards of the tree, and I had a good shooting lane. One opening morning I watched from my stand as the deer came into view eighty yards below. Until this time I had not nocked an arrow. Foolish as I was, I did at least recognize the risk of exposing a broadhead while standing on a board resting on two branches. But, as the buck came into view, I reached around to my quiver and detached an arrow, bringing it around to the other side of my bow to nock it--all the time keeping my eye on the approaching deer. As the arrow passed my string I heard an odd "thwittt" sound, but did not pause to consider the source until I also felt something tickling my wrist. I looked down to discover I had nicked by bowstring, severing all but four or five of the strands. I watched helplessly as that buck and several does passed by and continued up the trail another fifty yards. At this point, an unseen rifleman shot at him and missed. I returned the next day with a new string, but of course the buck was no where to be found. On my next visit, I helped the same hunter haul him out of a ravine 100 yards away. I would do that hunt over.
 
I was sixteen, the first year you could legally hunt deer in Utah. At that time we were on the Paunsaugunt before it was a limited entry unit with a Dad who knew the unit and always gave you the advantage. I was shooting a 25-35 lever action Winchester, open sights and could shoot pretty darn well with that gun. a month before the season Dad told me that my brother, who had just been drafted into the army, had mentioned to him to let me use the new 30-06 with a scope the brother had just purchased. OK, no big deal I thought. No one shot for a sawdust mount at that time and most just threw the horns away. Meat is what you hunted for(well, meat and a little bragging rights and for a little respect for shooting a big deer, that is.) Opening day arrived and we hunted all morning and only saw one spike. Normally you would shoot those spikes in those days, but Dad had told me of the big buck down there so I let him pass. Two days and nothing! The next day was school. Early morning we were heading out on a dirt road, Dad slammed on the brakes, there he is with another buck. I got out, saw the deer in the cross-hairs, shot and got a really big three point. Dad said why didn't you shoot the big one. He was the biggest deer I've seen in a long time. Dad didn't get into a position to shoot the other deer for fear of fouling me up for that deer of a life-time. That was my Dad.
 
Buck on the Paunsagunt I didn't squeeze the trigger on...
I didn't want to Texas Heart shoot him..
Across a deep draw.. in 2002..south of 89..
220" min..
Smacked
 
I have too many of these in my hunting career.

The first year I was hunting deer in NW Wyoming, I was wandering around in some thick timber. I came to a small opening. There were two bucks in the opening. One was bedded and the other was standing. The standing buck took off running. He was a monster mule deer buck. The one that was bedded was about a 180" 4x4. I could have shot him in his bed but I went after the bigger buck. I got neither buck.

I was hunting in NW Wyoming again. On the 9th day of the season, I shot a small jerky buck and packed him out. The next day I went into the same spot with a friend. He shot a decent 4x4 buck on the last day of the season at first light. Just after the shot, a monster 200+ nontypical stepped out into the open at 50 yards and just stared at me.


In 2006 I was hunting mule deer in the Hoback area in Wyoming. My son and I glassed up two bucks. One was an absolute beautiful Wyoming Range buck. The other was a very narrow but tall 4x4 dink. They were moving back and forth feeding within a line of small 3-5 pine trees. You would catch glimpse of each buck as they moved around. My son was on the spotter and the range was 350 yards. He told me the big buck was coming out between two pines. You guessed it, I shot the dink.


I have more. Just sayin...mh
 
I know man, embarrassing at the time, definatly a learning lesson.
Still pisses me off. Now I carry a loud noise making 45.
 
>Buck on the Paunsagunt I didn't
>squeeze the trigger on...
>I didn't want to Texas Heart
>shoot him..
>Across a deep draw.. in 2002..south
>of 89..
>220" min..
>Smacked


I'm Gonna Tell You Where I Shoot a 220"+ Buck if & When I have too.................................................!










I know so many people in so many places
They make allot of money but they got sad faces

It Ain't Easy being Me!:D:D:D
 
Had one last year... got on group up of bucks last year. One great buck two small 4 points.. between getting the gun set up, taking ranges and so forth as they fed through the aspens across the canyon i ended up mistaking and killing the smallest buck in the group. A 22in wide 4 point. Took my buddy back in two days later and killed the big guy 300 yards from my gut pile. His first Colorado muley to boot.

6803320171023074039.jpg
 
Awesome hearing all the stories. I think most of us that have hunted many years can say, Ya that happened to me and Oh, that happened to me as we read the stories.

Regrets or learning experiences. I believe that is what keeps us going every year. If we killed every big game animal we seen and set out to get it would not be hunting as we know and enjoy it.

I've gotten over most of my younger day blunders.

The ones I regret the most now and really stick with me is the blunders that Happen when I am helping friends, family or younger hunters. I can get over me not filling my tag, but to screw it up for a young hunter really sticks with me.

I still remember about 12-15 years ago up on top of the Wyoming range when my young son (12-14 years old) had a tag and and I had looked through the high power scope on my 7MM he was using and then forgot to turn the scope back down. A while later here comes a great buck up through the saddle we were at and my son kept saying he could not find it as it stood there at about 100 yards. I never realized the blunder until the buck was gone. I had a rifle and tag and could have shoot the buck and would have been over joyed with the buck, but it was all about a great buck for my son and it fadded away without a shot.

Once I realized what I had done, I was sick to my stomach that I had blown it for my son. Have never quit gotten over that one.

However, some of our blunders are some of our great memories also made while out hunting in Gods country.

Heck I still make a few memories/blunders here and there. Can't hunt much without one here and there.
 
Went on a Brown Bear Hunt a few years ago. Saw 2 Bear in 10 days with no shot opportunity on either. We kept seeing this enormous Non typical Moose every single day in the same spot. On the 7th day I suggested to the guide that I use my Bear tag on the Moose which was in season and completely legal. He said he wasn't packing out a Moose and wanted no part of it.

A 15K$ Hunt with not a shot fired. I regret not really pushing the issue and going down in that valley and killing that Moose even if I had to pack it out myself. It was about 1 mile from camp.
 
>Went on a Brown Bear Hunt
>a few years ago. Saw
>2 Bear in 10 days
>with no shot opportunity on
>either. We kept seeing this
>enormous Non typical Moose every
>single day in the same
>spot. On the 7th day
>I suggested to the guide
>that I use my Bear
>tag on the Moose which
>was in season and completely
>legal. He said he wasn't
>packing out a Moose and
>wanted no part of it.
>
>
>A 15K$ Hunt with not a
>shot fired. I regret not
>really pushing the issue and
>going down in that valley
>and killing that Moose even
>if I had to pack
>it out myself. It was
>about 1 mile from camp.
>

Ouch! I would regret hiring that guide.
 
One of mine was back in 2016. I drew a LE archery elk tag in Utah. I spent the summer scouting every weekend, trail cameras, made a blind with deadfall and pine boughs, the whole nine yards. I put a lot of work into it. Long story short, the last week of the hunt it was around 9am and I cow call and a bull answers back and it sounds like he's maybe only a few hundred yards out in the thick timber. He barks and bugles, so I respond and we go back and forth for about 5-10 minutes and I can tell he is coming in hot and heavy. I'm standing behind the makeshift blind I setup and I see this brown rump through the trees about 60 yards out to the left, another 30 yards and he'd come right into a fairly big opening and I'd have about a 25-30 yard shot broadside. He finally comes into the opening and I can see he's a nice 6 point, well over 300 inches which for me in this unit, with a bow is a shooter. As he's standing there I draw back and I can see he notices me and it hits me, the fever and I'm struggling to pull the bow back. I finally pull it back and quickly let one fly, well wouldn't you know it, I torqued the bow and it went right underneath him below his vitals.

He of course jumps and trots off a little bit but by now his rump is facing me and he's in tall weeds and deadfall and I can't get another shot. He then bolts off.

My biggest regret was not pulling that bow back when I first saw his rump in the trees, I wouldn't have had to rush the shot causing me to torque the bow and wouldn't have had time to get the fever. Lots of lessons learned for sure on that hunt. I had a few other missed opportunities on that hunt but none like that.

I ate tag soup on that hunt and it was the hardest tag soup I've ever had to eat.
 
My biggest hunting regret was a couple of years ago. I drew a very good late-season deer tag in northern AZ.

I had set aside 9 days to hunt. On day 3 I start getting texts and emails from work that they really needed my help to complete an analysis before a meeting. I reminded them that I was on vacation and not in a position to take care of this. They persisted and finally made me feel guilty. The evening of the forth day I shot a 150 buck and headed home to work. Who knows if I would have found one of the big bucks the areas is famous for but I've often wished that I had given it a better effort before punching what is essentially a once in a lifetime tag.
 
I've had a few regrets and many disappointments while hunting. The ones I regret were when I found myself in life threatening situations due to my youthful enthusiasm or lack of planning. It's a miracle I survived a few times.

I was out in my scull boat in Humboldt Bay in gale force winds one day taking on water as fast as I could bail. The Coast Guard cutter came out in their big boat to rescue me. I waved them off, too embarrassed to admit I was in trouble, so they left. About an hour later, by the grace of God, the wind subsided a little and I was able to get back in just at dark.
 
In 2014 I missed this bull with my bow at 15 yards!!!! He was with another big bull just feeding straight to me for an hour. At 15 yards they both walked behind a huge boulder and when he stepped out I think I lowered my peep to make sure it was the right bull and then never pulled the peep back up and let the arrow fly. Shot right over him. I spent the next 6 days looking for just him with no luck. Two weeks later he was shot by a muzzy hunter and he is the new world record. Scored 456? gross I believe and 431 net. If I could hit a rewind button that's the first place I would stop and do over. HAUNTS ME every night.


http://www.monstermuleys.info/photos/user_photos_2018/70991438fcb72a6484287b90d4f53314eff80.jpeg
 
>In 2014 I missed this bull
>with my bow at 15
>yards!!!! He was with
>another big bull just feeding
>straight to me for an
>hour. At 15 yards
>they both walked behind a
>huge boulder and when he
>stepped out I think I
>lowered my peep to make
>sure it was the right
>bull and then never pulled
>the peep back up and
>let the arrow fly.
>Shot right over him.
>I spent the next 6
>days looking for just him
>with no luck. Two
>weeks later he was shot
>by a muzzy hunter and
>he is the new world
>record. Scored 456? gross
>I believe and 431 net.
> If I could hit
>a rewind button that's the
>first place I would stop
>and do over. HAUNTS
>ME every night.
>
>
>http://www.monstermuleys.info/photos/user_photos_2018/70991438fcb72a6484287b90d4f53314eff80.jpeg

Sure is a Little Bastard Ain't He?:D









I know so many people in so many places
They make allot of money but they got sad faces

It Ain't Easy being Me!:D:D:D
 
Alaska.

Dad and I talked endlessly about it. In the mid 90' s construction was booming so hard it was easy to get a little extra.

Cancer sucks, and we never saw Alaska.

Newberg is right, you do run out of health before money.


From the party of HUNTIN, FISHIN, PUBLIC LAND.
 
Too many muzzle blasts from client's and friends and my self. I regret not using hearing protection all these years. IN THE FIELD! Discount this post don't take it serious..and when you are 54 you won't be able to hear a elk bugle or know
If your walking makes noise on a stalk. Your spouse and friends will ask you to talk softer.And you get to say WHAT? a lot!
 
So many stories and such little time. First, Tomichi is spot on. I've been deaf for 30 years from rifle shots next to my head and running a chainsaw too much. The upside is that I can't hear my wife talking very well so I have an excuse when I screw up.

I have a ton of regret stories involving hunters, and quite a few from my personal screw ups. I'll just summarize it by saying if I had a quarter for every time I have heard the phrase "I can't find him in my scope" I could have more money than a Powerball winner. That amazes me every year.

One of my personal favorite screw ups was about 8-10 years ago. My wife went archery buck hunting with me and we slept on a tarp under the stars. My kind of romantic getaway. We had seen some good bucks scouting and the best one showed up one morning. We slipped to about 300-400 yards from him and my wife posted in the brush behind the crest of a hill to give me hand signals. We have a set of signals. You know - hand to the right, move that way. Two hands in front come straight at me. Lay head on hands; he's still laying down sleeping. Wave right hand twice, he's about 20 yards to your right, etc.

The buck was a HEAVY 28" stud with extra points on each side and a nice dropper on one side. I think he was the best buck I have personally ever stalked. He was in a temporary morning bed on a west-facing slope in scattered mahogany that is about 3-4 feet tall. He was laying in the early morning shade on the west side of a big bush.

A perfect situation....... West wind in my face, just enough wind to cover my noise. Relaxed stud of a buck and my wife in position giving me signals. Can't get any better.

I made a big circle and came over the ridge behind the big buck. Looked at the wife with my binos. She gives me the "he's till laying down in the same spot" sign. I take off my boots and start slipping down the hill in mega stealth mode. Kept creeping down the gradual slope of the ridge knowing the buck was pretty low. Kept checking with the wife. She keeps signaling that the buck still bedded in the same spot............. And I 'm headed right for him.

Then I look at my wife and she has two hands about 1 foot apart right over the top of her head shaking them at me. I'm thinking "what the heck does that mean???" I keep looking at her, binos up, binos down. Can't see a buck??? I thought maybe the buck was up or moved or what; just didn't know. I could not see him.

I finally took another step and that big buck jumped up from behind a bush about 8 feet in front of me. He bolted about 40 years, whirled, gave me a real quick look and trotted out of sight. I just smiled and said WOW!! He was a great buck. I never saw him alive again, and I don't think anyone killed him. I think I would have heard.

When I got over to my wife I said "what the heck does it mean when you hold two hands over your head and shake them at me?" She said "It means you are this close you DUMMY" - as she held those hands about a foot apart. Made me feel like the idiot she thought I was.

Great hunt and a great memory. I really like it when those big ones win sometimes.
 
Another time I was over in the Grey's. I think it was 1987, the year before the Yellowstone fires. I most always went by myself. I had hiked in 7-8 miles and set up a camp. Back in those days, my stuff was heavy. Carhartt coat, heavier tent, heavier sleeping bag, etc. And had to hike down quite a way to haul water up to my camp.

About the 3rd day I found a couple of pretty good bucks one evening. But it just wasn't feasible to stalk them due to time and wind. So I backed out and planned my morning hunt.

I left camp about 45 minutes before daylight. When I slipped to my vantage point, there were three bucks in a saddle. But the cussed sun was coming up right in my eyes. And I was coming from the west, and the wind could betray me any time. I sized up the bucks, all 4 points and decent. One was a little heavier; likely a 4 year old. Good, but not a monster.

I decided to whack the best buck, so I laid over my pack, got steady and shot. The buck seemed to hump up, but with the rising sun coming behind him, it was hard to see. And this was before range finders, so I "guessed" he was 250-300 and just held on him.

All three buck just stood there. The one buck I shot at never took a step, but he didn't fall or do anything. I watched for a long time, but it was probably 20-30 seconds. Then I looked up and a 190-200 inch Booner had stepped from the other side of the saddle to check out the commotion. He wasn't 30" but he was one of the Grey's River bucks that has really long tines and is really tall with decent mass.

They all stood there for another 30 seconds. I said to myself that I didn't feel like I missed that first buck, so I slid around, moved my rifle away from the Booner and shot the first buck again. He dropped that time. The other bucks whirled and galloped over the saddle out of sight. When I walked up to the buck, the first shot had hit him just behind the diaphragm. Funny that he never took a step, but seemed humped up.

I'm glad I shot the original buck, and he's still solid. But that big buck still haunts me sometimes.

The pack out was miserable. About 1.5-2 miles back to camp, then 7-8 miles to the road. Had all my gear plus the boned-out buck on my back. I bet it was 130-150 pounds with rifle, spotting scope, tripod, tent, sleeping bag, etc. Had blisters as big as silver dollars on the front and back of both feet and kept thinking it would have seemed lighter with a Booner aboard.

But still a great memory and a fun hunt.
 

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