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favorite hunt?

skimerhorn

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Ashland Va
I thought this would be a cool thread, what is your favorite hunt from your childhood till now? Could be anything. I bet some of you guys have awesome stories.

For me it was about 10 years ago, me and one friend got into geese and doves on opening day. We setup for geese that morning, then switched to dove at lunch time. It was so cool, we both limited out. I think that's the only time that has ever happened. I was at one end and he at the other, so there wasn't a lot of pressure on the the birds. I would shoot, then they would go and he would shoot. It went back and forth all day.

A close second is calling in a public land turkey for my friend. It really made me believe in myself and calling ability. That was another special one.
 
Mine was also post deployment with my son. I had taken him deer hunting a couple of days each youth season when he was 10 and 11 with no luck. The year he was 12 I was in Iraq for hunting season and there wasn't anyone to take him around here. I got back in late Spring of the next year and he turned 13 in August. For Thanksgiving that year we made the family trip back to IN to be with my wife's clan. I have a buddy there who has a small (150ac) farm outside of town that he will let me hunt if I am home and his family isn't on it. So, for an early Christmas present I bought him a Handi-rifle in 44mag and put a nice Burris 3x9x40 as so as we arrived at home (IN only allows rifles in "handgun" cartridges for deer). Went to the range, zero'd and were ready. The next day and morning after it was absolutely pissing down rain. In order to have any shot at a deer and processing the afternoon hunt to come was our last shot. We got into position on the ground in an island of grasses and shrubs in the middle of a cut corn field about 1500hrs and the wait was on. It had cleared up nicely but it was slow going. Then, with about 30min of shooting light left I caught movement on the far edge of the field. It was a deer but I couldn't make it out well yet. When it totally cleared the tree line I could see it was a young buck (eastern 6pt). He skirted the field and was well out of my son and the guns 150m comfort range. It was getting close so I decided the ol grunt call couldn't hurt. I hit it twice and he turned 90deg and starting feeding right toward us. I kept ranging him and it was seeming like an eternity. My son was set up on the shooting sticks and as the deer got within 150 he pull back the hammer. The deer was still coming almost directly at us. Finally at about 90+ yards he turned braodside. I whispered about shot placement and took another range to be sure. I asked my son if he was ready and he nodded. Then he asked me "Can I shoot?" As soon as he heard the first bit of my "yes"...BOOM and the buck fell where he stood. The boy asked "Is he really down?". By that time we had gotten down to about 10min of light left. Thankfully my buddy let me drive my truck out in the field so we had good light to field dress. When we got to the inlaws hose we walked in bloody and he told his mom he had gotten a buck and all she could muster was "No shit?!!" :) The local processor was great about putting a rush on the deer so we could take it home with us. It was only a 1.5 yo but dressed out at +-140lbs. That was a great day!
 
My favorite would be the backpack archery elk hunt Crystal and I did the first year she archery hunted. Somehow I helped her cram years of hunting mistakes into 7 days. I'll never forget the exhausted excitement as we drove home planning next year's "revenge" trip.
 
I guess there is something about coming home from a deployment that makes for a memorable hunt.

I would say my most memorable, out of alot of memorable hunts, was for Mule Deer on leftover tags, in October of 2008 in the Bighorn MTs, WY. I actually did some of the planning for the hunt while still overseas. This would be my first mule deer hunt, and because of previous deployments was also the first time hunting with my dad in quite a few years, so I was super excited for multiple reasons. We hunted hard for several days, not seeing a whole lot of deer, and one morning I passed on a smallish 4x4 while still hunting timber. I had him dead to rights at 15 yds, crosshairs on him and the safety off, but I decided to let him walk with a couple more days to hunt. Almost immediately I regretted the decision, but it turned out to be the right move.

That evening we walked up into some more open country above the timber and set up to glass where the topo map showed some springs and there seemed to be quite a bit of sign. At almost last light a group of deer came out to drink and with them was a nicer 4x4, I have never measured him, but I knew he would be a good first muley for me. They were a good mile off, so we decided to be back on this ridge in the morning, and hopefully we could make a move on them.

The next morning we were walking up, well before the sun, and decided we should split up and cover two different routes they would likely take back into cover. As the sun rose the deer materialized down the open hillside 300yds in front of my glassing spot, I could hardly believe it. I got settled into my rifle and waited for a clear shot, the 7mm Rem hit him hard right where it needed to, and he maybe went 60 yds. It was like it was out of a deer hunting textbook. My dad came running down the ridge to where I was as soon as he heard the shot and we went down to get him.

This was my most memorable hunt more for the fact that I hadn't done much hunting the previous few years and to be able to go out with just my dad was an awesome experience.

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Last elk season in Colorado with my son and son in law is my favorite by a mile. Hopefully this coming season with them along will be even better.
 
Mine will be this September in Wyoming. My dad has never hunted, but has always supported me. Now that he's retired he told me that he wants to start going on hunting trips with me once in a while, just as a spectator. So, this year will be my dad's first trip with me and I can't wait.
 
Probably the 2011 elk season, son was 11. Last bit of legal shooting light, bulls bugling, covered up with the herd, cow barks at Jake face to face and he is literally shaking with excitement. I was not going to pass any legal elk so Jake could get the full experience of quartering and packing out. He was right next to me when I stopped her with a cow call and let the arrow fly.
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What great stories! Mine was Oct 1, 1983. The day after my 16th birthday, opening day of rifle season. My dad and I hiked deep into the St. Joe drainage in the Idaho panhandle. Got a bull to answer at dawn. Took until noon to drop into the cirque where he was holed up. Dad was using a section of PVC pipe as call and a big 6x6 crept into the meadow where we had set up. I remember watching his antlers float in above the tops of the little firs. I fell apart with bull fever but Dad dropped the bull just as it realized the gig was up. I've been hunting 31 years to match that day... probably never will. Dad is still hunting Idaho elk at 80.
 
My current favorite would be Thanksgiving weekend 1996. I was home for the weekend from college and went hunting some public land with my Dad and brother. The area had been hit very hard - and we knew the bigger bucks wouldn't be hanging in the open with all of the pressure. We still-hunted a large drainage. My Dad was in the bottom, I was part way up on 1 side and my brother part way up on the other. Since my brother and I have followed my Dad all of our lives, we knew our 'still-hunting' pace.

After a couple of hours moving through the drainage, I saw a flash through the trees. I knew it was a deer moving, but no idea beyond that. Seconds later I caught glimpses of horn - so I knew I wanted to shoot.

I figured it would break out of the timber onto the plateau, cross over and head into the next drainage. So I started to move up and try to get ahead of it. I see it turn direction and start to head to my location. Not sure which way to go, I made sure the gun was ready to fire. Within a couple of seconds a juniper bush right in front of me started to shake. I dropped down onto 1 knee ready to fire.

The buck emerged from the bush like a ghost. I don't remember pulling the trigger. When the buck fell, I could reach out with my barrel and touch his nose. It took me a long time to settle the nerves. I just sat down and waited for my Dad and brother to show up.

It was my biggest deer up to that point in time. Heavy 5X5 muley that included drop tines. I've got some 'real' photos of him, when I find them I'll post them up.
 
Idaho sheep hunt

In 2001 I was lucky enough to draw an Idaho sheep tag. Found this ram on the 2nd to last day of the season.

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It's hard not to say a hunt with my own dad when I was younger, but my absolute favorite hunting experience was 5 years ago on a 4th season Colorado cow hunt, I had my youngest with me and we set up towards evening just below the top of a hill overlooking the green river and a nice expansive sage field. The only thing on the hill to hide behind were 2 different sage brush about 15-20 feet apart.

After being there for just a few minutes I got a little rock thrown at me an my son frantically trying to mouth the words "deer" to me. 6 does were coming off of the adjacent hill and were going to pass right behind us. They casually walk about 10 yards from us but never saw or smelled us.

15 minutes pass and as I was looking through the binos I can see a big buck semi trotting through the sage about a mile off. He had his nose to the ground and was really working a trail. I got Ethans attention on where to look and we watched this buck get closer and closer. He eventually worked his was just right below us going back and forth at the bottom of the hill trying to pick up scent. He was a friggen nice mulie buck. 5x5 and really heavy and wide. So then he turned in my direction and started up the hlll, literally walking right to me. Once he got within 10 feet I popped my head out from the sage and calmly asked him what he was doing. He was pretty shocked and took off. Ethans eyes were as big as mine.

We still talk about the big one every so often, never saw one elk that trip, but a great hunt.
 
I would have to say hunting with my dad in 1983. It was opening day for blacktail deer in B2 in California. We walked up a ridge and sat down before light at a bowl just over the ridge. It had rained all night but quit that morning.As soon as we could start to se my dad told me to stay still, and all of a sudden about 2 bucks jumped up. My dad shot a heavy horned 5x5 and about 10 more bucks jumped up. I was in awe and shot the last buck to get up. It was my first buck and it was a nice 5x4. lucky to have been born to a hunting man. Thanks Dad!
 
My buddy had a Tobacco Roots Goat Tag in 2003. We camped up the South Boulder Drainage in mid October. It snowed at least a foot on us first night in. We hiked up one of the drainages off of camp, and could see goats 1000 feet above us in the cliffs. Hiked up into the cliffs where they were and couldn't find a thing.It was treacherous as hell. Stopped and had lunch, had smoke and a nip, taking in the view. We got up to leave and looking off the cliff ledge to scout a way down, there was a goat laying 15 feet below us.

It sat there for an hour while we B.S.'d, ate, smoked, and cussed the mountains.

Took its life and packed it out whole strung on a log we carried between us on our shoulders. My traps cramped up, which is a unique kind of pain.

Climbing in the cliffs of the Tobacco Roots with a foot of fresh snow, being 18 years old, having no clue what we were doing and still being successful. It felt good.
 
The annual Wyoming Elk Hunt seems to be my favorite hunt every year. I do this hunt with my 70 year old Father and Uncle, who are both avid horsemen as well.

When the Wyoming cowboy tells his buddies "Don't try to outride these Martin Boys" it is pretty high praise. Seems like we manage to find elk every year and no two years are the same in terms of elk location size or density. Still trying to hit that 100% tags filled in camp mark. 75% is our best so far.

When it comes down to it though my favorite hunt will always be : My NEXT ONE.
 
Mine would be my 2011 Colorado mule deer hunt with my dad! My father and I made plans to start traveling out of state and kill the 4 animals of the west we called them, Antelope, Mule Deer, Bear, and Elk. We had already taken an antelope and had to skip the bear hunt because of a open heart surgery for my dad. For awhile it seemed like this trip would be cancelled to because of my wife experiencing a miscarriage with our first pregnancy the month before. I really didn't want to leave her but she convinced me to go ahead with the trip. I will never forget driving west on Hwy 70 and seeing the mountains just appear out the window, it was just so beautiful I knew I had made the right choice to go. We spent a few days before season visiting RMNP and had a blast. We both took our first mule deer and had a great trip. A few weeks after returning we found out my wife was pregnant again, my little boy is almost 2 now and can't wait for my new best hunting memory with him.
 
I have so many!!! If I had to choose, last years cow elk.....my dad was with me. Or, last years antelope.....my dad was with me. Or, 2012 antelope.....my dad was with me. :)
 
I would consider just about any hunt with my dad or brother my favorite hunt when I'm out there with them. However, if I had to chose just one hunt with dad, I would say that it would have to be the Wyoming antelope hunt that introduced us to western hunting. It was a great experience that I wish I had done several years ago. Me and dad spent too many years in Canada, fishing and bear hunting. I don't regret the hunts, but man 10 years of pref. points should would be nice right about now :D
 
My favorite hunt was a few years ago when my son, Tyler got his first elk with a bow. It was another father/son outing which many of us have mentioned as our favorite. It started with me seeing a considerable amount of bull elk sign such as, freshly horned trees, etc. where I had been grouse hunting the first days of September, before archery season was open. We decided to check it out on opening morning of archery. The weather was forecast to be 91 degrees that day. I was particularly doubtful as to our chances, so I stuck with my 22 for grouse and Tyler brought his bow. I've continued to this day to take a lot of flack because I was so un-serious about elk hunting I wore a BLUE jacket.

We headed into this spot well before daylight and stopped along the lower edge of a nice park near where I had been seeing fresh sign. We waited for daylight before moving carefully around the edge staying well within the trees. We were hardly started when I spotted the rear two thirds of a very light colored elk at the very back end of the park. It seemed to both of us that it's surely a bull. It was still poor light and before legal shooting time. We checked the wind direction and proceeded very cautiously around the low end of the park and about half way up the far side toward where we saw the elk. (Which we had only gotten the one glimpse of.) We reached a spot where we felt we were hidden and stopped to get set up even though we could not see the elk due to a rise between us and it (him).

This is when the favorite, most unforgettable part set in. This beautiful park sloped up hill to our left. The lighting was unreal in that first early light, sun not near up yet. A full moon in the sky centered over the rise in the park in the direction we knew the elk was. We looked silently at each other. It was time for me to bugle. I did and we could not believe our ears, he responded immediately. In less than 30-seconds we could see antlers just over the rise coming slow and cautiously directly toward us about 100-yards distance. The full moon was right over him! We were silent and didn't move a muscle. The bull showed his entire self. A six point! He proceeded slowly in a path out in the wide open park that would put him 25-yards broadside to Tyler if he kept coming. He stopped! Too far and bad angle. What to do? I took a big chance and squealed with my diaphragm through my grunt tube. Tyler shuddered. The bull responded with an aggressive grunt/squeal and came right into Tyler's shooting lane. His shot was perfect! The bull ran back the way he came over the rise and out of sight. We froze waiting, afraid to say anything to each other. The bull made his final gasps, which we could clearly hear and recognize. We did it! Tyler did it!

Tyler made a fast trip home to get the horses and a camera. I boned, sacked and hung the meat in the shade while he was gone. The pack out was easy and we had the meat hanging in a cooler by 2:00pm. Montana is great!!!

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