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JerryBobCo
Posts: 8,227 Senior Member
What's the hardest you've everr worked to retrieve downed game?
JerryBobCo
Posts: 8,227 Senior Member
Zee's 338 thread got me to thinking about this. I posted a response about working a day or more to get out a game animal I shot, so I thought I'd start a thread over here to give others a chance to post some of their past experiences.
As I stated in my post in the shooting thread, I've spent most of a day or more hauling out game I've taken 3 separate times. The first was my first elk, a big cow I shot in central Utah in 1986. I shot her at about 3:30 in the afternoon, probably a mile or so from the nearest road. I was by myself, and it took me over an hour to field dress her, so I left her overnight and came back the next day. I started at about 8 the next morning, quartered her, and dragged her out in pieces. I think it was about 5 p.m. by the time I had her loaded and ready to head home. It was the best tasting game meat I've ever had.
The second was a big muley buck I shot about 15 years ago. I was hunting in the Flat Tops of Colorado, and shot the deer about 8 a.m. It didn't have a particularly large set of antlers, but it must have field dressed 175 lbs. It seemed huge. Again, I was by myself, and spent most of that day trying to get it out. Finally, I dragged it into a grove of pines and marked the spot with my GPS. I came back the next morning with a pack. It was very foggy, and I think I would still be looking for it if it weren't for my GPS. I deboned it and packed out the meat (I got the antlers out the day before) by about noon that day.
The last time was the elk in my avatar. I shot it at about 6:20 in the morning, again about a mile from my truck. Linefinder and I worked all day getting it out, and managed to get it out by about 5. I'd probably still be trying to get it out if it weren't for him.
Please share some of your memorable experiences of hard days packing something out.
As I stated in my post in the shooting thread, I've spent most of a day or more hauling out game I've taken 3 separate times. The first was my first elk, a big cow I shot in central Utah in 1986. I shot her at about 3:30 in the afternoon, probably a mile or so from the nearest road. I was by myself, and it took me over an hour to field dress her, so I left her overnight and came back the next day. I started at about 8 the next morning, quartered her, and dragged her out in pieces. I think it was about 5 p.m. by the time I had her loaded and ready to head home. It was the best tasting game meat I've ever had.
The second was a big muley buck I shot about 15 years ago. I was hunting in the Flat Tops of Colorado, and shot the deer about 8 a.m. It didn't have a particularly large set of antlers, but it must have field dressed 175 lbs. It seemed huge. Again, I was by myself, and spent most of that day trying to get it out. Finally, I dragged it into a grove of pines and marked the spot with my GPS. I came back the next morning with a pack. It was very foggy, and I think I would still be looking for it if it weren't for my GPS. I deboned it and packed out the meat (I got the antlers out the day before) by about noon that day.
The last time was the elk in my avatar. I shot it at about 6:20 in the morning, again about a mile from my truck. Linefinder and I worked all day getting it out, and managed to get it out by about 5. I'd probably still be trying to get it out if it weren't for him.
Please share some of your memorable experiences of hard days packing something out.
Jerry
Gun control laws make about as much sense as taking ex-lax to cure a cough.
Gun control laws make about as much sense as taking ex-lax to cure a cough.
Replies
My biggest muley was a solo hunt in the Montana mountains that took me 6 hours to pack out.
There have been others that were difficult, but not lengthy.
Those solo hunts can be tough, especially if you get lucky.
Gun control laws make about as much sense as taking ex-lax to cure a cough.
Been by myself for five elk and one deer. Longest one took 8 hours. Big cow, uphill, steep. Not much to tell really. Struggle, sweat, catch your breath, repeat till done.
I been working out year round now for 4+ years. Last elk I swung the quarters, hide, hooves n' all over my shoulder and carried them out. Not far, maybe 400 yards to camp, took 4 hours. A bear was shadowing me, but that had no effect on the time.
Dad 5-31-13
Brutal. And you lived to tell about it! :jester:
Gun control laws make about as much sense as taking ex-lax to cure a cough.
First thing in the morning, we were back where we had last seen blood and tracks....the area was heavily wooded with a lot of hills...we crossed the stream and immediately picked up blood sign...and spent the next couple of hours following sign...the deer kept heading for the tops of the ridges but each time it looked like he ran out of gas and headed downhill. The bucks tracks finally took us down to the shore of a near by lake (shoulda figured it ) , found where he fell, wallered around in the mud and got back up, and the sign flat disappeared. We cast up and down the shoreline for another hour and found....nothing. We were both standing there scratching our heads when Bob says "what the hell is that out in the middle of the lake?" Sure enough..you could see him floating out there. So, I shucked off my boots and clothes and went after him bare ass....cold wasn't the word for it. Swan out, grabbed an hoof and headed back to shore...got out of the water and Bob mistook me for a girl, then noticed that the deer was HUGE... We found that the arrow had nicked an artery in the bucks neck. Got the thing field dressed and started dragging - tuned out that deer had travel over a mile before going down. Stopped off at the feed & grain on the way home to get him weighed at hust over 200 pounds...dressed...
I have never got naked to go after a deer since...
Bout 6 inches, it was a wild ride let me tell you. Big time pucker factor. I couldnt get beck on the tractor for weeks.
That beats anything I ever had to do hands down.
Many years ago I was out duck shooting on the harbour in my 10' ally boat. I had a 9.9hp Johnson outboard fitted which, with the weight of decoys and shooting gear allowed it to plane with a top speed of about 20 mph.
In those days, Canada Geese were a rarity in the region and although I had seen a few during previous seasons, none had come within range. I was sitting quietly in the boat packing up my gear as the tide was dropping and I needed to get out of there or I would be staying until the tide came back in about 8 hrs later............when I heard some honking approaching from behind me over the mangroves. I looked up just in time to see a mob of about 7-8 Canada's passing overhead. Grabbing my old Baikal O/U I swung up and connected with 'tail end charlie', knocking quite a few feathers out of him and he set his wings gliding into to water about 200yds out. The rest continued on their way.
Ahaa I thought to myself, I had finally brought down one of the 'kings' of waterfowl hunting.
I untied the boat, started the outboard and set off to retrieve it. Got to within about 60yds of it before it struggled off the water. I could tell it was wounded by the way it was flying as its wingbeats were very erratic and it kept bouncing off the water. Running the outboard flat out I slowly gained on it until I thought I was in range then I held the tiller with my knees, raised the O/U and gave it both barrels....again I saw feathers fly but it didn't drop. As I reached for another 2 shells, the tiller slipped and I performed an immediate U-turn at full throttle, almost falling overboard in the process. The goose had in the meantime landed about 300yds away.
Ok, load up again, get the boat up on the plane and head towards the bird. Got to within about 80yds of it and it got up again. At full throttle our respective speeds where almost evenly matched and it took about 15 minutes to get into what I figured was range. Again I held the tiller with my knees and gave it 2 more barrels of no 4 shot. Same result, feathers flew but it stayed in the air. Once again my knee grip slipped and I did another involuntary U-turn. The goose once again landed about 250yds away.
Ok, that didn't work so I changed plans. This time I decided I would get to within a few yards of the bird before closing the throttle and taking my time over the shot. And once again, when I got to within about 70yds the goose struggled off the water so I slowly inched up towards it. This time it took about 10 minutes to get to within about 10 yds cos it kept jinking left and right abut finally I got close enough and just as I closed the throttle, it fell out of the sky stone dead.
WOOHOO! The bird was mine!
After picking it up I spent a few minutes admiring it...........I had never seen one close up before...........and I then started the outboard to head home. ( I had travelled about 6 miles across the harbour by this stage). After retracing my 'steps' for about 5 minutes, the water got too shallow to take a direct line back to the river channel ( about 3 miles as the crow flies) and I was forced to head further out into the harbour to deep water and make my way home by following a very circuitous route.
20 mins later, I ran out of petrol.....................
What followed was 2 hrs of pushing the boat through shallow water until it got too deep, then unshipping the oars and rowing till it got too shallow followed by more walking and rowing until I hit the main river channel about 5 miles from the river mouth. Then followed 2 hrs of rowing against the tide until it took pity on me and turned to give me a push.
The whole retrieve took about 6 hrs before I got back to the boat ramp.
I have never worked so bloody hard to retrieve a bird before or since.
When I plucked the bird I found most of the #4 shot hadn't penetrated its feathers and the few that had were lodged in its stomach. They would have proved fatal in the end so I was glad I had persisted in the retrieval.......................However when I roasted the bird a few weeks later it was so tough I couldn't chew it. I ended up cutting the meat into small pieces, throwing it into a pressure cooker and turning it into goose stew.
The following year I upgraded to a 15hp Evinrude ( which was well above the max rating for the 10' boat)....................and bought a spare 5 gallon outboard tank which sat under the quarterdeck and added weight up front.......(which it certainly needed with the extra horsepower).
Edit.
I'm left trying to figure which character in the story is the tough old bird. :jester:
My timberline buck, THAT was tough. He wasn't going to set any records for size or weight, but the fact that it was up around 13k ft above sea level made it that much harder. The hard part was he died beyond a 200 yard wide boulder field I had to jump around on with the quarters on my back. And there was some pretty steep elevation changes. Shot the buck around 8, I was back in camp at about 5.
Although I think the absolute hardest was Joe's elk. Even with 4 of us that was.....ugh. 1200 ft elevation change in 500 yards, most of that extremely steep.
If I'd been packing out fresh meat and a bear was following me, either I would have had it out in 30 minutes or one or possibly both of us(me AND the Bear) would have been dead!
:buff2:......:silly:.......:yikes:
:rotflmao::rotflmao::rotflmao::rotflmao::rotflmao::rotflmao::rotflmao:
Son that's somebody with nothing to do with his time but keep me in trouble with mom.
Were it me, and the bear was brown, he would have had an entire elk to feast upon. Were it black, I'm not sure, but probably the same. :silly:
I like fun, but I'm not that crazy about adventure.
Retrieving him was a read chore. Had to drive the truck around the canyon to the road into the canyon, and drag him about 20 yards to the truck
-Mikhail Kalashnikov
Back in 2011, the first year I was on my present lease, I shot a hog and a deer one morning. The hog weighed in excess of 200 pounds. I got the deer in the Suburban ok, but then I went to find the hog. I had shot it at 320 yards and it had run in the brush. I went inside the brush line about 10 feet and there he was as Jerry Clower would say, grave yard dead. After thinking how the hell I was going to get it out of that brush I went to the car and got a rope and tied it through his hind leg and tied the other end around the trailer hitch ball. Then carefully pulled it out into the sendero. Then the work, or futile work, began. I worked my ass off, then I tied the hog up to the Suburban short and pulled it to the gate, hoping I could see somebody to help me heave it into the back. But nobody was there that day. It was a weekday and I was the only one hunting that morning.
My next plan was to gut the hog, which I would normally do at the barn because we have water there. So I field dressed the hog but still couldn't quite get it up into the back of the car. I didn't have my cooler with me, something I don't go without anymore, and so I didn't want to skin and quarter it. I didn't have a saw (something else I now have in the Suburban at all times)so I didn't think I could cut the head off. Anyway, it was now about 2 P.M. I ried calling everybody I knew that might come to my rescue. I finally called a guy I know that is actually on the lease with me. He said he was working but would come by after work since the lease was between his work and his house. But he wasn't getting off until 6:P.M. He told me there was a block and tackle at the barn that I may could raise the hog with and shove it into the back of the car. So I pulled the hog on the dirt road the 1.9 miles to the barn. It took a little hide off but didn't seem to hurt the meat. However, when I got there the block and tackle wasn't operative. It needed new rope and I didn't have enough with me (something else I have since fixed ). But at least there's water at the barn. So I washed the body cavity out good which also cooled the meat. It was a cool day anyway, and now since I had cleaned it well and washed most of the blood and guts out, it kept the meat from spoiling. I also had the meat in the shade. I also cleaned the deer up and kept it as cool as possible. But I had no place to go and all afternoon to get there, so the wait was on. 6 oclock came and went, no Mark. Finally at 6:30 I saw lights turn off the hiway onto the lease main road. Ahh help at last. Mark had wisely decided to go home first and bring his son Kevin, in case we needed help. That was a good idea because it took all three of us to get than monster in the car. Also, when Mark saw the hog he told me that thing weighed more than any 200 pounds. He thought it was more like 250 or even more. Anyway, all's well that ends well. I got it home, skinned it, quartered it and got it in the freezer by about 10 P.M., took a shower and collapsed in bed.
We ate some of the deer, but I wasn't ready to make sausage yet. About two months later my freezer got accidentally unplugged and it ruined some deer and all of the hog. I had bleach in the bottom of that cooler for a month before it got the smell out. All that work for nothing!
Son that's somebody with nothing to do with his time but keep me in trouble with mom.
The tough old bird wasn't me............That incident happened in 1977 or 78 when I was in my early 20's. If it happened today I would probably drop dead of a heart attack.
It took 2 weeks back then to get rid of the aches, pains, blisters, and especially the chaffing on my thighs and ass caused by my rubber waders!!!
After a similar adventure, I started carrying a snatch block secured in the front of my pickup bed, two hundred foot lenghts of rope and a piece of 1/2" plywood to use as a ramp when I was hunting by myself. Mechanical advatage is where it's at......
Alcohol, Tobacco, Firearms and Explosives.... now who's bringing the hot wings? :jester:
Son that's somebody with nothing to do with his time but keep me in trouble with mom.
That's exactly what I now have too, but I don't have it installed yet.
I've got a 3000 pound winch and the plywood ready for it. Just keep getting distracted. I guess the distractions will cease when I get in that bind again.
Son that's somebody with nothing to do with his time but keep me in trouble with mom.
JAY
There's a Hardscrabble mountain about 15 miles from were I live, near Canon City. It's in the Wet Mountains. Is that the same one, or is there more than one? If it's the same, I know how rugged that country is.
Gun control laws make about as much sense as taking ex-lax to cure a cough.
Sako
No, its south of Gypsum , off I-70
FYI, I lived S.W. of you In Westcliffe, Custer Co.
JAY
I had it figured out, at about your age. Unfortunately, feeling the need for 'expediency' still trumps common sense, all too often. I still lift things that I should not, because I always have, and because I still can. But there is a price to pay for it, and I usually end up paying more than I intended.
It's kinda like when you are 20, or so, and have such a monumental hangover that you swear you will never let it happen again. By Friday night, you have forgotten about it, and it takes another couple of years to refuse the temptation on a regular basis. Even then, you may backslide occasionally, for several more years.
Another time about ten years ago, I got an invite to hunt on a friends lease in Alabama and they had a few deer that they wanted culled. One was about a four year old "unicorn" with a nub on one side and a small spike on the other and within about the first hour of sitting in a stand he walked out in front of me. I was sitting over a sloped greenfield with a steeply sloped patch of woods on the far side of it. Of course after I hit him, he stumbled down the hill through the woods. I had to drag him about eighty yards or so up a pretty steep hill to get him to my truck and I was gasping and wheezing by the time I got him loaded. After I got him back to camp and explained where I shot him, my friends informed me that there was a road about twenty feet downhill from where I was and I just couldn't see it through the trees.