The purpose of this thread is to provide a spot for member submitted stories to go to until the site admin has a chance to place them on the hunting story site.

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“Beware the man with one rifle. He may not have enough interest in it to be competent.”
Mike Venturino


CSSA Member

We will start off with a story submitted by our own Turbo Al



It was about 1985 and just after moving here from Vancouver Island. My hunting efforts for deer to this point had only been for Blacktail on the Island so Id did not know what to expect. I had done some Pre-season scouting up on the Coq and come up with a couple of promising spots, but it was not to be.

I went early in Nov and upon arriving at the first likely spot found it occupied with an empty truck, on to the second spot -- same story except that two fellows (Natives) were just getting out of their truck so we talked a little and then I went on my way. So much for pre-season scouting new areas.

Five Kilometers down the road something on the far hillside caught my eye -- a line of Alder trees angling up the hillside into the old growth-- AWW and old skid road! The biggest problem facing me now was the fact that there was a wide fast flowing creek that needed to be crossed. After spending some time bush bashing I found myself looking at a small tree laying across the creek. After crossing the creek and finding the Alders, there was indeed a trail winding through them and on up the Mountain. Judging by the deer tracks in the old snow it was well used. After about a kilometer I turned back and make the decision to hunt here first thing in the morning.

Camp was made in a dry section of creek bed that had an enormous log jam high and dry next to it. Needless to say I had a huge camp fire that night. Crawled into the back of my 81 Jeep CJ-7 for some sack time.

Early the next morning I awoke to a new world -- about 3 inches of new snow had fallen overnight.

Across the log and up the mountain I went, not even 200 yards up the trail there were fresh tracks of a doe and fawn feeding and heeding up the trail as well. A couple of kilometers up there was a fork in the trail and the tracks of nine different deer were present in the snow, three doe's with fawns (including the one I had followed up) and three single animals. Two of the single deer had quite large tracks and I decided to follow the largest of the two. It's trail was following one of the doe's and going up the right fork of the trail. Everything was going fine for about and hour then they left the trail and went into some really thick 10 foot high evergreens. I circled and came upon a really big ravine that took some time to cross. On the other side in the Old Growth there was a trail but no tracks at all so I figured the deer had not crossed over just simply gone up the mountain or bedded down.

With my back leaning on a huge Douglas Fir I drank a couple of juice boxes and ate a couple of candy bars. Now what -- go back and pick up the tracks or follow this trail? Third option try the deer call and see what happens? Having never hunted Muley's I had no idea if they would even respond to a call, this "bleat" call had worked many times on Island deer. Well I blew my normal sequence of calls, one soft -- wait 10 seconds, one med. -- wait 10 seconds and one loud, now the fun starts --- standing motionless for 20 mins. or so and see if anything appears. Then a funny thing happened -- a weird noise coming from up the mountain about where I had left the trail of the deer, something I had never heard before. In my judgment it sounded like a Raven with a sick voice and I left it at that because it appeared to be going away from me because it was getting fainter. Then all of a sudden it came from right behind me! Well I didn't know what to think, ever so slowly I turned my head and leaned out from behind the tree and there 30 yards away, walking towards me was a 3 point Muley. As I was looking his head went up, his lips curled up and he let out the weird noise that I had been hearing! Now I am screwed! I had been looking over my left shoulder and my rifle is pointing in the opposite direction, so ever so slowly I pulled myself back to my original position and started a slow count to 10. I can't see him, he can't see me and at this point he doesn't even know I am here -- I HOPE. At ten count, off comes the safety on the 7mm and I do a real slow turn around my right shoulder side of the tree and bring my rifle up. As I had hoped he has walked by the tree and is walking away from me and is now about 20 yards away. Not much to shoot at -- butt end of a deer heading away from me but the cross hairs settled on the thick base of his neck and I pulled the trigger -- he dropped like a sack of rocks and didn't even twitch. My first Muley was laying at my feet and I was jumping for joy.

Then Reality sets in, this guy is about 2 or 3 times bigger than any deer I have ever shot on the Island and there is no way he is going through the ravine that I had just crossed and I really don't know just exactly where I am.

After gutting him -- he still was more than a handful so I thought just go straight downhill to the stream. At one point there was about a 400 yard section that was really steep so I just kicked him in the butt and watched as he careened out of control until he piled up on a log. Arriving at the stream there was no crossing in sight so I pulled my wallet out of my pants and put it in my shirt pocket and then climbed into the creek, the road bed was visible downstream so I just let him float down to as close as I could get to it and then dragged him out and to the base of the slope that lead up to the road 100 ft above me.

After climbing the slope I found a mile marker that had a 4 on it so I was about 3.5 kilometers from the Jeep. By the time the Jeep came into sight I was shivering pretty well non-stop. A quick trip down the road and a short winch later my prize was in the back of the Jeep.

At the butcher the deer weighed out at 186 lbs and I still use his horns to this day as "rattlers" and he has contributed to the demise of other deer as well BUT HEY that's another story.

Hope you enjoyed

Turbo Al

__________________

“Beware the man with one rifle. He may not have enough interest in it to be competent.”
Mike Venturino


CSSA Member

Excellent story turboAl great reading.

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save a salmon eat a bear

Thanks for the extra effort Cariboo I hope you didn't have to retype the whole thing!
My pleasure trophybear things were getting a little slow on the forum so I thought I would add something new until the LEH results come in.
Al

Muley hunting part two:

It's been a couple of years since taking my first Muley and me and my brother have cut about 5 miles of trail up this mountain. A lot of people ask me why cut trails that other people are going to use? Well we never cut the first 30 yards or so of a trail so no one can tell that there is a trail there unless they actually get out of there truck and go hunting -- to this day I have never found anyone or sign of anyone on one of my trails.
I have done some extensive scouting and set up a small base camp about two kilometers in from the main road -- not much just a burning barrel, a couple of lawn chairs, some fire wood and a clear spot for the tent.
It's early November and I have my Brother with me (yearly thing he's from the Island) and I have am hunting low below the snow line and he has gone above the snow line -- appox. the 3,000 ft level. I have been hard at it since before dawn, at first light I am calling from about 100 yards away from where I shot my first Muley and not getting any kind of a response. At this point I am still not sure how Muley's are reacting to the call just that it does work.
It is now close to ten a.m. and I am moving from my 2nd setup on up to my third -- I usually give each spot about 40 mins and two sets of calls before moving on about 500 yards to a different spot. I had gone about 400 yards when below and to my right a big buck came out of his bed and hightailed it down hill into the thick brush below me. Just got the scope on him as he disappeared into the bush, dam!! I sat down and tried to pick him out in the brush but to no avail, I figured the thermals had carried my sent down to him because I don't think he ever saw me. Oh well onward and upward.
My forth setup was a bust as well and for my fith I find myself about 40 yards below the snow line behind a big log with my back to a big fir almost a perfect setup. I let go a round of calls and sit back and wait. I have a new Polar Fleece Camo outfit on that has been coated with UV Killer and am sitting on a piece of black plastic to keep the moisture from penetrating my pants. About 10 mins goes by and I am relaxed -- maybe too relaxed and then one single twig snapped -- up hill to my far left -- so ever so slowly I turn my head and there 30 yards away is the butt of a Muley sticking out of a large fir tree! Dam a couple of min's of looking and it's not moving, I think I see a piece of Antler sticking out of the other side of the tree but it could be a branch irreguardless I got no positive ID and no shot anyway.
At this point my stupid leg starts to jump around and I am searching all around with my left hand for the stupid call that is down on the forest floor somewhere. Finally find the dam thing and give it one soft blow and low and behold a fine 3 point head materializes from behind the tree, safety goes off and blam he drops like a sack of hammers with a broken neck! Again I am jumping for joy and admiring my prize and considering my good luck. I chalked this one up to my new camo outfit and the UV killer.
So I don't want to get blood and guts on my new outfit so I strip down to my long johns for the bloody work -- about halfway through I hear this noise -- sounds pretty much like a bear clawing a tree, grab my rifle and take a quick look around -- noise has stopped and I can't see anything. Almost finished gutting him when the noise starts up again so again I grab up the rifle and start towards the source. Now this would have be a sight for another hunter to tell his buds -- some guy in his long johns with blood on the arms and knees sneaking through the woods

The noise is still going on and I have covered about 40 yards, I am up in the snow line now and there is a thick patch of brush directly ahead of me -- and as I look into it a 4x5 point muley lifts his head and starts raking the brush with his antlers! So for the second time in 15 mins the 7mm speaks and down goes another Muley! His front leg was still pawing the ground when I got up to him so I gave him an insurance shot in the head. Then I realized my mag was empty and my shells were 80 yards away in my camo gear!
So much for rifle shots scaring game, the second deer was about 80 yards from the first and was not bothered at all by the sound of my first shot. The first deer was 145 lbs on the scale and the second was 186 lbs.

Hope you enjoyed!

Alan

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Have hunted for 30 years. Moose, Muley's & Blacktail. My claim to fame is calling in Mule's.

Right out of Deliverence! I'd probably run.......

Good story Al. Man, some people have all the luck. Did you spray UV killer on your long-johns too?

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Respect the animal you hunt!

Thanks Rifleman, No UV killer on the longjohns -- didn't expect to be hunting in them but after it was all said and done I realized that I was standing in the snow when I shot the 2nd deer and so it was white on white, so I was in camo by accident.

I can't even imagine what I would do if I ran into someone hunting in the snow in bloody underware with a big smile on his face. Maybe I should make a movie outa this one!
Al

Great Story Turbo Al!

I too like to call em in, i use a little bit different method than yours though. I use an antler and rake it on some brush and let out a few burps, if there is any buck in the area and its late oct-mid nov then he will come in as long as he doesnt have any does. I actually called in a nice 28" 4x4 muley this last november doing this, got it all on film as i already filled my tag.

Matt B, now how did you get a peep at story #4 ?

My luck with the camcorder has not been the best but I do intend to try it again this year on a couple of my outings -- I lost the stupid battery last year on the Bison hunt!

Al

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Have hunted for 30 years. Moose, Muley's & Blacktail. My claim to fame is calling in Mule's.

Al-I didnt get a peek at story #4 my comment was for the story on this thread. Using the video camera isnt too bad, i had really bad buck fever when that big guy came in though so i was shaking pretty good. Cant wait to hear more stories!


Matt

Matt I was just pullin your leg story three and four are still running around in my head, four just happens to be when I try rattling the horns from Buck #1 with some very erie results.
Al

Hey Turbo Al, how many Mulies are you allowed to shoot on one day???

Other than that I agree, shots do not scare them off, I shot a small mulie buck last year, walked down to him and gave him a fairwell shot, turned and looked, there not 60 yards was a doe and fawn standing watching me.

Havent tried the UV killer yet, maybe next year. Actually, I was in shorts and a vest last season when I shot mine, so who knows.


Starvinoverhere

Starvinoverhere,
As many as you want this is B.C.!
Just kidding allowed two Muley's in the area I hunt. Yes I did have two tags with me, I usally buy a Moose and two Muley tags to start out the year with. It's kind of a hang over from hunting on the Island -- if you didn't get two (Blacktail) over there in a season you had better just burn your rifle! Up in the Charlotte Island I think the limit is 8 Blacktail!

Al

I guess I live in the wrong region.......

starvin

It was hot, early Sept, and we wanted to cool off. It only took a few minutes to get the Jet Boat into the river, so that's what my buddy and I did. Since it was hunting season, we both threw in our kits and a rifle each. He was packing an 8mm mag. and I grabbed the .416 Rem. About an hour into the ride we had seen absolutly nothing, but who cares right, who wants to pack meat when it's 35 deg C and there is not a cloud in the sky to shade you from the sun. Another hour into the trip and we decided to turn around. A little ways back we had seen a couple cow moose at the edge of the river, we figured that we could be sneaky and drift back to where the cows were. You know, see if they came back out, might be a bull with them although it's a bit early for the bulls to be hanging with the cows yet. Anyway, when we finally drifted back to where the cows had been.... there were now three cows, and they never gave us a second glance as we drifted by, no more than 30 ft away. No bulls! We decided that roasting alive in an aluminum boat drifting down the river was not as much fun as burning gas, so we fired back up and headed for home. As we started into the corner that would put the cow moose out of our sight, I looked back, and HE was just clearing the brush at the edge of the gravel bar, head low and looking too the cows. I lost sight of him as we went around the corner. This was too good, I had to at least have another look, so I smacked Rory on the arm, pointed to the left shore, and said Big Bull, Beach this thing. As soon as I said it I knew it was a mistake, Rory cranked the wheel over and pointed us at shore......To make a long crash short, lets just say that we were still on step and doing about 20 miles an hour when we hit shore. when we stopped the boat was at least 35-40 ft from the edge of the river. It wasn't that bad, nobody hurt, and I still wanted to get another look at that moose. I grabbed my gun a handfull of shells and headed back upstream. HE was still there, close to the bush, and the cows were at the edge of the river. They didn't really seem like they wanted him to come any closer, and HE looked like he wanted to stay close to the trees. This was good for me, I kept moving closer. By the time I made it to within about 150yds of the cows, several decisions seemed to be made: I decided that I would take that bull. The bull decided that he wanted a closer look at the cows. The cows decided that they were going across the river. The bull walked right up to where the cows entered the water, offering me an excelent broadside shot, slightly quartering away, about 130 yds. At this point I remembered that I would need a bullet in my gun if I was going to shoot at anything. I dropped in one round and closed the action, when I looked back up HE was watching me. I was crouched beside a stump, with a thick stand of willows behind me. About the time that I was thinking I could raise my gun and make a fast shot, the cows reached the other side of the river. I could hear rocks clack togeather as the cows climbed the steap bank opposite to me, and so did the Bull. His head turned to the cows, I had my chance, the .416 barked and a 400gr Hornady round nose ripped through his chest, blasting every bit of air from his lungs, and tipping him forward almost to his knees. He didn't fall....franticly I yanked the action open and dropped in another round, visions of this animal lurching forward into the river and being lost. By the time I had the gun back into shooting position he had turned and was facing directly at me. Blood was pumping straight out both sides of his chest, and I knew he was done, but I had to finnish it just in case. A straight on shot would not be my first choice for any animal, but I wanted to put him down, before he ended up in the water. Head lowered, legs splayed, I figured I could put one under his chin and break his neck, and I did. He dropped like his bones turned to water. Now it was time to go to work.
Getting the boat back in the water was not as hard as you might think, as the bottom is covered in UHMW plastic, that slides over rocks pretty good ( probably why we ended up so far from the river ). The moose ended up right at the edge of the river, so we had a longer pack from the boat to the cooler at home than we did from the kill site to the boat. The mooses rack measured 57 1/2" wide, 17 points on one side and 15 on the other. Not my best but a good one.