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Your favorite hunt

mdeerjunkie

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With a lot of folks posting some hunts they have done in the past. I thought I would start a thread for that purpose.
Post one or many of your favorite hunts you have ever done. It can be anything from big game, small game or waterfowl. Try to condense the story so that it is not too long. For newer people like me, it would be great if some you you long timers could post some stories that you wrote a few years back.


My favorite hunt was for turkey a few years back. It was my first time ever turkey hunting and it was an amazing experience especially since my dad came along. He has never been a big “hunter”. I set up a blind along the south platte in CO early on opening day. It had snowed a few inches that night so it was pretty cold and the birds weren’t that receptive to calling. For the first few hours got some responses but none ever took the bait. At about 9am after not calling for about 45min. I looked at the 2 decoys I had set up and there was a tom charging right at them. I was totally surprised and it was a mad scramble to get my gun and get set up. I leveled the sights on his head and took the shot. He dropped instantly. To say I was excited was an understatement. It was a fairly big tom with 11 in beard a 1 1/2 inch spurs. It was some great food too.

I still go turkey hunting almost every year even though I have never shot another turkey. And my dad comes along every year. Just getting to hang with him has to be the greatest part of the hunt424A4031-0816-4EEA-A050-4D14EF807A4D.jpeg
 
I think every hunt I do ends up being my favorite one. Being with friends on the prairie or on the mountain, resetting your soul. Coffee and adult drinks around a camp fire. Laughs, military stories, women stories....who knows what's going to come up in conversation. I've hunted turkeys and antelope and elk and deer and coyotes successfully alone, but when it comes down to it, I'd rather hunt with friends and not be successful sometimes. Every hunt is a journey into the unknown and meeting the guys from HT that I have met has been an amazing journey. The campfire is the great equalizer. Gather a group of people from such different backgrounds and life experiences around a fire and you realize when it comes down to it, we're all the same in a way.
 
Many times it’s not the biggest trophy that jumps to my mind when I think of favorites. They all have things that make them special. I do remember a few years back when I had a public land doe tag and I took my old 44mag with iron sights “for a walk”. Now this was thick hardwoods and pines for miles around. I got on some fresh tracks and followed hem to three beds. I could see where I jumped the deer so I backed out, swung down wind and started side hilling a ridge. I was too late as I caught a glimpse of them heading up and over the ridge. I quickly backed out and knew they were likely to continue trying to circle downwind. So I literally ran back the way I came. I turned and headed down wind in the direction they ran paralleling them. Once again, I wasn’t fast enough and saw a flash of them going into a huge bowl filled with thick aspens. I turned around and ran around to the other side of the bowl. I figured they’d hit the rim and try to circle around me ultimately ending up back where I jumped them. I climbed up the outside edge of the bowl just high enough to see the top edge. After 15 min I started wondering if they had given me the slip. Just then I saw a big fat doe sneaking through the small pines trying to circle where I had been a little while earlier. I let her stop and put a 44mag round through her heart. She immediately plowed her way down the ridge in the snow and piled up at the bottom. Now that was FUN! Cat and mouse with a deer in thick timber is a ton of fun.
 
I've been lucky enough to have lived most of my life in good hunting country, and have had many fantastic hunts. I've also been lucky enough to have drawn tags for all of Montana's big game animals. The house that I've lived in since 1978 sits on 10 acres about 5 miles from town, and I've had both mule and whitetail deer, elk, moose, black bears, and mountain lions on it. For over 20 years I had my own horses and I was able to use them to pack deer, elk, moose, and sheep camps back into some great hunting areas 100 or so miles from my home.

Since I got divorced 20 years ago, I've been able to go on a dozen or more international hunts, and my house is starting to look like a wildlife museum with 83 mounts of the best animals that I've shot. At a Sitka blacktail deer hunting camp on Kodiak Island last fall, I was exchanging stories and pictures with some hunters from New Hampshire that I met there, they told me that I should write a book. I bought my Montana deer and elk tags last week, but I think that this is the first year in the last 10 that I haven't booked a hunt somewhere. Maybe that's good with all of the Kung Fu virus closures around the world.
 
My sheep hunt with my dad as it was our first western DIY hunt so we learned a lot about ourselves as hunters and were tested to the extent of our physical ability.
 
Can't think of a favorite, but I started hunting with my best friends when I lived in Wyoming and every September we'd head south for 'lope camp'. We'd camp out for a few days, drink a bunch of beer and take a few antelope in the process. Some great chats around the fire and unforgettable times. Our group has since spread out across the west and between starting families, work and life in general, we haven't all been together at 'lope camp' in a few years. I've been thinking about those times a lot given the current situation. Hope it happens again soon.
 
I will also always charish the moment when I shot my first deer and had to smear blood on my face.
 
After I got my degree I took a full time job and moved to a new state. Prior to that I had been busy studying, working multiple PT jobs, and living on a shoestring budget. In the blink of an eye, five years had passed with no hunting. Probably the best decision I made that year was picking up a deer tag and going on a self-guided, public land hunt. I hadn’t done any scouting, I didn’t have much gear to speak of, and no vacation time. Just a weekend hike with my now dusty rifle. No luck Saturday, and Sunday was winding down. I picked a spot on a hillside hoping something would feed out of the cover. With just a few minutes of shooting light left, I stood up to go. Eight whitetails jumped up from about 30 yards away and took off. They had been concealed by a cut. On another hillside about 90 yards away they stopped and looked back. Through my scope I was able to make out the dim outline of a doe. I set the crosshairs on the vitals and squeezed off a round. I could see deer running away, and nothing else. A quick hike to where the doe was standing and she had dropped in her tracks, double-lunged. A mile+ drag, including a couple of creeks crossed got me to my car just after 1 AM. I lived in an apartment, so after a few hours of sleep I made a Walmart run for 40 lbs of ice to stuff the carcass before going to work on Monday, then dropped off at the processor that afternoon.

I’ve had many hunts more thrilling than this one, but few more memorable and rewarding.
 
Lots of memorable adventures. Picking the favorite for me is like choosing a favorite child. This is a Top 10:

 
My favorites are the ones that I keep returning to; Alaska, Hawaii, New Zealand.
With most hunts you reach a point where you're ready to come home, but not with Hawaii or New Zealand. Even when I've stayed for a month it still goes by too fast and I wish I could just stay there.

However, there's one place that holds a special place in my heart that I can't go back to; Arizona for Javelina with my wife and kids.
It was an annual hunt that we did ever since my kids were in diapers until they left the nest. I went back there by myself once and it was torture.
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I thought about this question and it got me thinking that since I pretty much hunt the same animals, in the same places, With the same people, year after year, the memories kind of blend together. So most of my favorite memories are just a parts of one hunt or another rather than the whole hunt. But I do frequently find myself thinking back about the many pheasant hunts my dad and I would do when I was a teenager. Surprisingly it isn't the bird shooting that I think about as much as the lunch. My dad would make the lunch before I even got out of bed and I guess he was either a little OCD or just lazy but lunch was always the same. A salami sandwich on homemade oatmeal bread with cheddar cheese and yellow mustard paired with a less than ripe golden delicious apple and washed down with canteen water. Sitting there eating that lunch, BSing with dad and throwing scraps to the dog. Nothing can ever beat that. It's a little sad that I can never enjoy that lunch again. Mom's not here to make the bread and dad isn't here to make the sandwich and share it with me.
 
Like many have said there last Hunt was there favorite, but I’d have to say my northern BC moose hunt with my oldest son. It was a 2 on 1 hunt and the weather was a little warm. Even though we were hunting the end of Sept. during the peak of the rut. After 10 days of hunting he took a very nice bull. 72CE823B-140E-41EB-86E5-F2A7C7493E10.jpeg
 
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I have a few hunts that really stand out to me, but this one is my favorite. This hunt involves hunting with my father, which we get to do less and less now days that we live in separate states. It does not involve a huge trophy or anything like that.
This hunt was late season muzzleloader in Iowa (where we reside). I have always liked late season muzzleloader because it's cold, not as many people do it, and I believe that you have to have a little misery to go along with your hunt otherwise you can not truly appreciate it. This hunt was probably 8-10 years ago. I was just starting to get back into hunting. I'm currently 35, so at that point I was getting back into hunting and out of partying everyday. We were hunting public property at this point. I still do, I usually do not hunt public after shotgun season now though.
We show up to this public piece, snow covering the ground, and temps are below freezing as usual on a January day here. Where we were hunting there were two ridges, and down in the draw they DNR had planted sorghum. There were deer tracks when I had been coyote hunting in this place before so we figured we'd give it a go. I was not horn hunting during this hunt. I had shot very few deer at this point, so unless it was Bambi, it was fair game.
We hike up one ridge, taking breaks as needed. If you've hiked in the cold of January, you know it's not easy on the lungs. We get to a spot we think we'd like to sit and drop down off of the ridge into the trees. We find a nice fallen tree, my dad sits there and I told him that I'd continue up about a hundred yards and sit.
We sat for probably an hour. This has been some time ago so the exact specifics are a bit of a blur. What I do remember very specifically however is that when I was a kid my dad would always preach to me about being quiet, very still, and blending in. Since I had sat down he was texting me, mainly nonsense like a father and son do. I didn't mind, but this is an important part of the story, and why this hunt stands out to me.
I'm sitting facing the field, and over my right shoulder I hear foot steps. I knew it was a deer that was coming, so the thrill was on and my heart was pumping. Now I'm right handed, this deer was coming from my right. This meant I'd be making a left handed shot. I'm patiently waiting, gun situated already, just seeing a little bit of brown movement through the brush. Still patient, before too long the deer is about 40 yards from be and behind a tree. It's back half is showing behind he tree, but it's vitals are covered. This is just your run of the mill, antler less deer, but my chest is pounding. Pretty soon, while I'm waiting for this deer to come a little further, I feel a vibration and hear hmmmm hmmmm. You guessed it, my cell phone. Wonder who it could be?
I'm still waiting, gun on my shoulder, deer still behind the tree, again I hear hmmmm hmmmm. I just kind of look down at my pocket in disbelief. I look back up, guess who is standing in front of me just staring a hole through me. Yep, the deer came out from behind the tree. Luckily I still had my gun up, so movement was minimal. I aim right at it's chest and squeeze it off. BOOM! As any fellow muzzleloader hunter knows, you cannot usually get a good visual on what happens after you shoot. I knew I hit this deer as I heard the crack and it had fallen down or stumbled. It kind of trotted up the hill as they do and went down.
I couldn't tell if it laid down or fell. I'm reloading my gun as fast and quiet as possible. During this time I keep hearing hmmmm hmmmm. I get up, ready to shoot again when this deer jumps. I track the blood up the hill and find the deer about 50-75 yards away. I'm still hearing hmmmm hmmmm.
At this point I'm thinking, ok I can answer. I no more than pull my phone out and I hear my dad coming. He's saying my name asking where I am. I holler at him while reading the messages. They went as follows:
- you seeing anything? I'm not seeing shit here.
- why aren't you answering?
- what's the matter, did your gun accidentally go off?
- did you just get sick of it all and decide your done?

I'm guessing that he got a little worried that I did have an accident at this point. That's probably why he came. The reason I always thought this was so funny is while he was just kidding, the thought apparently did not cross his mind that a deer could have come and I could have shot it. Luckily the deer had gone down, and was not just wounded.

We had a good laugh about it afterwards. It is funny how as we age the tides turn. The teacher is doing everything he used to preach not to do. I didn't mind obviously as this is probably my favorite hunt we've had.
 
Don't know about a specific favorite, but have a few that were very memorable and special to me.
My very first whitetail ever, way back in 1976, was a little basket racked 7 point I shot sitting up in an old Oak tree. I almost stepped out into space to start walking to it! My father carries a picture of me and that buck in his wallet to this day.
Our youngest daughter took after me and started hunting at a young age. I "guided" her to her first deer, heart shot. I shot a nearly identical doe about 60 seconds later for a tag team deer kill.
A few years later she was with me again and wanted a buck. No doe for her! Of course, a doe comes through and after confirming she was waiting I killed it. It dropped in it's tracks and I reloaded my muzzleloader. Maybe 3 minutes later a buck walked up to the doe, sniffed it, and she shot it! Smiles and pictures all around!
Went to Idaho on an invite from a guy I met online to bear hunt. Explored the mountains, set up my bait site, killed a color phased bear a few days later. He became one of my very best friends.
Went on a quick morning goose hunt with my father. Just the two of us in layout blinds. A pair of Canadians came flying over, he said "Take 'em", we sat up and fired at almost exactly the same time dropping both geese. We had a good laugh and big smiles with that one!
Went to Louisiana for a gator hunt. Cruised around the bayou the evening before setting up baits and having a blast. Went out the next morning and got my gator, roared around in his airboat, and just enjoyed the scenery and atmosphere.
Finally, (I know, right?) I went over to the U.K. to meet up with fellow Hunt Talker devon deer (Richard) and try my hand at taking a Roe deer. Had a ball, made a good friend, killed a nice buck, and made a vacation out of it with the wife exploring England, Wales and Ireland. That adventure turned into a thread here for folks to follow along.
 
I grew up in the midwest and couldn't wait to be big enough to quail hunt with Dad. So many good memories of my first hunts with him...good pointer and setter dogs...the exhilaration of hitting my first quail on the wing. My extended family all live in west Tennessee and there were many hunts there with my Grandad. Once I was old enough to hunt on my own I hunted often with a cousin my age. I remember a good hunt where the dogs pointed in a pine thicket and after we flushed the birds, we noticed these uniform mounds in the pine needles. We kicked around and discovered we were in an old slave cemetery from back when the farm was known as the Witherspoon Plantation.
I moved to west Texas when I was 18, and while I was able to make some extra money guiding hunters on some of those big ranches, I didn't hunt myself. Couldn't afford it. I later married and spent several years focused on my career. However, we've been blessed with two children that love the outdoors. As my son got older, I wanted him to have some of the experiences I'd had. All of that leads up to my favorite hunt. A good friend is a game warden in Texas. He turned me on to the Texas Youth Hunter Program and my son and I were able to draw for a Mule Deer Hunt in the Davis Mtns. We were one of four groups hunting that weekend. Each group had a game warden or biologist. Jace was the youngest and last in his group to tag out. We put in a stalk and got close enough that he was confident of being able to make the shot. Problem was he couldn't see over the catclaw and whitebrush we were in! I started filming as he and the game warden slipped through on hands and knees til they got to a place Jace could see the buck. .243 right behind the shoulder did it's job. If I never look through a scope at another, I'm blessed to have had that experience. This is our first year in Western Montana and we're both looking forward to this Fall. IMG_0782.JPGJace's buck.jpeg
 
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From 2013: I am definitely one lucky man. Two years ago I took my son out and he shot his first WT buck on a farm in our hometown in IN. The farm is about 15 minutes from his grandparents house and he took it the day before Thanksgiving. We hunkered down in a little island of brush in the middle of a cornfield all afternoon. The buck came out on the far side of the field and walked toward us along the edge. He shot it at about 100m with about 15 minutes of light left.Cade's buck 3.jpgCade's buck 4.jpg Great part of being a dad. Here is a pic of he and I with his deer as well.
 
Every hunt that I have done in my life has been a favorite. That being said, I have to put my Newfoundland moose above all. What a total adventure, from the 3000-mile (one way) drive, to the people and the whole experience. All hunts are favorite, it is just which one stands out.
 
That being said, I have to put my Newfoundland moose above all. What a total adventure, from the 3000-mile (one way) drive, to the people and the whole experience.
Its so funny that this is your favorite when it actually is probably my least favorite. No trip in state would even compare to the out of state experiences.

My wife and I have together on trips out of state have done in order:

All public land diy except Newfoundland as a guide was required. Probably why I don't like that trip as much.

2016
SE Alaska Blacktail and Black bear
Nebraska Mule Deer

2017
Western CO Archery Elk
Nebraska Mule Deer

2018
Newfoundland Woodland Caribou and Moose
Nebraska Mule Deer

2019
SW and western CO damn what coulda been....hands down my favorite trip and it was basically just one day of absolute chaos chasing bugles from sun up to sun down. Under 10 yards from an absolute giant 7x7 with a damn cow between me and him. That experience with that bull left me absolutely happy even without flinging an arrow. Trip was a success.
Wyoming antelope
Nebraska Mule Deer

Can you tell that our diy public land experience in Nebraska is a good one? Lol
 
Although I really enjoy every hunt, especially my bear hunts. My favorite hunt was probably my Texas hog hunt. I went face to face with a 160lb hog with only a spear, and it was one of the last good hunts I had with a friend of mine. Sorry for the excessive blood, it's the only ones photos I have, learned the lesson on taking time for a quality photo from this.SM-N910V1123.JPG
 
I think my favorite type of hunt is bear calling. Im a big whitetail freak, but the freedom of being on foot, moving through the woods covering ground looking for spots to call, and not freezing my ass off in the proccess... theres something about it that is just flat out enjoyable, even when the action is slow. My favorite bear hunt was last year, the year we got bear to open up august 1st during prime berry season instead of september 1st. In about a 2 hour period i almost stepped on a pair of rattlers, then found a weird ass shed, still cant decide if it was a non typ mule or moose, then called a big fat boar in to 15 yards and dropped him with a 70 year old lever gun. Hell of a day, doesnt get much better in my book. The knife work and pack out in 95° heat really sucked, but everything else that day was awesome. I kind of feel myself gravitating toward prioritizing bear hunting over deer. Seems almost sacreligious to say, but i just really enjoy it.
 

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