years ago on Corona lake in california deep in cougar country. I was fishing a flat bottom boat at night in the desert. Well I shined my flashlight across the water and at the base of the mountain was two sets of Cougar eyes looking back at me waiting on me. well being in Cougar country at night and having two Cougars waiting on you at the bank when you don't have a gun is not good. Well I thought about and came up with a plan that I was gonna use my new lazer pointer and burn their eyeballs out so that they would be blind when I got there. So I aimed my Laser at the first Cougar's eyes with percision and could almost hear it sizzle till I burn't the cornea out. My weak flashlight wasn't strong enough to see nothing but the equally spaced eyes reflecting back so I repeated this several times burning each Cougars eyes out of their head until I was sure I there was only blind Cougars left with sizzling cornea's. As i paddled closer my fear became reality when I noticed the whole time it was a group of people on a pontoon boat. I got out of there quick and not a word was said from the pontoon.

I've told on here before, growing up we were in a dog club in Clarke county. This story was 89-90's, we went for the weekend dog hunt. Well they dropped me of at my "stand" and took of to the next spot. Shortly after I heard the dogs turn my way and here came a buck, I knocked him down 4 times with 12 gauge 00 buckshot, he kept going and made it to the next stander who shot him 2 or 3 times. He finally got him down for good. When they picked us up, that deer was shot all over. That night they had kangaroo court, my dad was really agging it on, and it was decided my shirt tail would be cut. What dad didn't know was, we had identical hunting shirts, other than my mother had sewn our initials into the tags. They let him cut it and he cut the whole dam back out of it while laughing. He got done and waved it above his head, like he had just won a war, everyone was laughing and hollering. I holler really loud and everyone got quite, I said read the tag daddy... it's your shirt, you talking about a roar from a crowd. It was an instant story told for years at camp. And yes, dad made me buy him a new shirt. It was totally worth it!

Was turkey hunting an old doctors property in south Montgomery in college. Had a buddy that made the trip down and was hungover from the night before. We had a gobbler on the place that was old as dirt and call shy. We set up in the general area he always seemed to be and waited. It got to be owl thirty and he was silent despite me trying to get him to gobble for reassurance of his location. My buddy had the gut pains hit him and had to release the pressure valve, which erupted into a noise and oder that would have made Stevie wonder flinch. Wouldn’t you know it, the turkey double gobbled at the trumpet emulating from my buddy’s behind. We killed that turkey about 15 minutes later. I’ll never forget that, and still chuckle about it. One of those you’d have to be there things.

Proud to say that I’ve never been that close to a “buddy” chiting in the woods.

Back a few years ago while turkey hunting I was sitting listening to some quail calling and had a gobbler screaming
Was enjoying the way the morning had started when I hear what sounded like a muffled snort behind me
It sounded like a hog but was 50yds or so behind me and I wasnt going to budge with this gobbler screaming out in front of me
Well I hear the sound again and its closer and start thinking that these stupid hogs are about to ruin my hunt
The bird is still on roost and I know hes about to drop and come to me
With all this excitement buiding I hear the sound again and its much closer like maybe 20-30'
I still refuse to budge knowing Im on a hot bird and Im not going to turn around to look
Yep you guessed it I heard it again and its 2-3' from me and my natural reaction is to pivot around with my shotgun to kill this intruder
As I was in mid-pivot a Bobwhite flew up and almost hit me in the face
I cant remember the stream of words that came out of my mouth but I was standing on my feet while this stream of gibberish came out of my mouth
How I went from a sitting position to standing is beyond my knowledge but one thing is for sure that gobbler never sounded off again and I was happy that I didnt have to use the bathroom when all this transpired

Another Cajun hunting story. Back in the early 80’s either sex season was a highlight of the year. The club I was in was great about bringing young hunters with them. Many of the young men had never hunted deer because there wasn’t any where they were living in LA. We started a dog drive and it seems the little buck took a course that would put him in the sights of several new hunters. The deer was traveling the side of a creek and the hunters were shooting like World War III. I bet that little buck was shot at least 50 times and just wouldn’t go down. When the deer could go no farther, it fell just in front of one of the older Cajuns. He could hear all the young hunters talking and reliving their shooting as they trailed the deer to him. The older Cajun knew they would have no idea on gutting a deer so he gutted it in the small creek and drug it up on the bank. He simply walked away to see the hunters find it. When they found the little buck the first words out of one of the boy’s mouth was “Goodness, we have blown all of his guts out!”. Never will forgot that as long as I live. Rest in peace Mr Duffy.

Back in the 70's my best 2 friends were huge . One was about 6-3 and 325 pounds and the other one was 6-5 and 430 pounds and he wasnt a baby fat boy either. I guess y'all think i am exaggerating but 2 dogs can verify their size. I could write a book about some of our adventures. I had a pop up camper and we would hunt from hiwassee island in tennessee to barbour county. One of the funniest storys though; we were on skyline for a gun hunt one morning and we were set up long before daylight. It is cold and calm where we were, all of the sudden i hear big Red holler hay what are you doing you duma$$. Then a stream of cussing a man you could hear all over the mountain. After we got down i asked him what in the world happened. He seen a light come down from behind him and he was going to let the guy walk past because we killed most of our deer coming off the mountain. The guy stopped under the tree and his light went out Red decided he was getting his breath and would go on. He said all of a sudden he heard a rumble from below then something took his breath lol He turns his light on and the guy has his britches down around his ankles and he is letting her go. And thats when the fight started. Another time i had permission to hunt way up in paint rock valley near the Tennessee line near Gray's chapel. We got to killing deer so some of the local boys got mad. Looking back I don't realy blame them we were on their family land they had hunted but i did have permission. Anyways one day they decide to harass us a little. there had been several shots from the road that morning so we decide we would leave and not come back. When we start out they fall in behind us so we pull over at Pete Princes store. One of the guys jumps out and tells us we were lucky because if we had not of left they were coming over there to whip our a&& .Big Red gets out of the jeep and tells the old boy "buddy that car want hold enough people to whip us" . Situation was quickly diffused. We never went back but that line was repeated a many of times around the campfire

For a few years prior to Katrina, my dad and I had joined a club in MS near Wiggins. Specifically, Flint creek flowed into Red creek at our place. On the south side of Red Creek was a private land holding belonging to, as I understood it, one of the lawyers who made bank on a big lawsuit against the cigarette industry. Anyhow, he owned a menagerie of exotic animals to include a few African lions.
My dad and I brought my uncle for a weekend hunt. In all of the discussions had prior it was apparently never mentioned that one was likely to hear lions throughout the day.
We decided to put Julius, my uncle, in one of my climbers located along the creek bank. I walked him in, pre-dawn, and got him situated about 15’ up where the view was best. We decided I’d come back at 9:30 and get him. It was a cool, still morning. Those lions tuned up right as dawn broke which was normal. I could hear them loud and clear and I wax another 600 yards or more away. I went back to his stand at 9:30 as agreed and he was no where to be seen. At first. I figured he’d come down but the stand wasn’t visible. I got closer and he says “up here.” Julius had climbed another 20’ or so up that tree. He started to tell me something about hearing a lion and I played dumb. Said he heard it for sure and realized he wasn’t high up enough nor did he have enough gun. But they’d been silent since that initial dawn event. The fun and gaslighting continued at camp and a couple other members slyly joined the game. I think we about had him convinced that he was hearing things until we were on the deck eating lunch and one roared again. “I know you all heard that! That’s a lion! Right there, don’t tell me I’m crazy!”
“Julius, that’s just the neighbor’s cat.”
“Oh yeah!? Well who is your neighbor? Metro Goldwyn Mayer?!”

a funny hunting story i heard was from my cousin ... he was hunting an old wooded piece of land we had that i nicknamed “the black forest” - it was old trees & dark as crap ... he always carried all his gear in & out & used a tree lounger climber ... geared up, he enters the black forest one morning & started up a ridge, and flicked his headlamp on ... it’d rained the night before so it was muddy ...

out of nowhere, a damn bat attacks his face, flapping around & scratching him ... my cousin said he freaked out, yelling & clawing at his head to get the damn thing off him ... his gear got scattered all over the place ... once he had survived the bat attack & stopped breathing hard, he couldn’t find his rifle ... he managed to locate his headlamp & started scanning the woods & found his rifle, barrel down in a mudpile ... he had to tear his gun apart in the dark & get the mud out of the gun (best he could) ...

he went on & hunted - but he was on pins & needles the whole time, waiting on another bat to attack him 🤣

The funniest thing I ever did was making a mock scrape line and tree rubs for a group of not so friendly hunters on private land. They hunted it for a long time. I would freshen them up occasionally when they were not there.

Ha ha ha

I don’t know you, nor have I ever met you, but I believe I’ve hunted several of your scrape lines…

I did the same thing to one of the guys that hunted in the same club did it for several years and he never found out .I would tell him where I had seem a big fresh scrape and he could not help himself

I hunted with a couple of buddies one time on some private family land of of the guys had. It had a decent old farmhouse to stay in. It was a couple hours from our hometown and the other guys hadn't deer hunted much up to this point. One of the guys actually hadn't deer hunted any. He had borrowed an old 30/30 from his grandpa. He had iron sights and 1 round to kill a deer. As the liquid flowed that night, he mentioned the gun and bullet so we started calling him Barney Fyffe. About midnight rolls around and the guy with the borrowed gun (and bullet) tells me "I ain't no deer hunter. If I see one in the morning, I am just going to shoot its antlers off." I loaned him my best climber, took him to the tree, put the climber on the tree and headed out another direction. About 2 hrs into the hunt, I hear him shoot. We had two way radios, so I asked if it was him and it was. I told him to stay put and I'd be there shortly. As I topped a hill, I saw him standing over a deer holding a rack. Still a ways off, I ask him over the radio, what did you get. His answer "I think it's an 8 point but I am not sure." I told him I could see him holding the rack, just count the points, but got no answer. By the time I got to him, he was walking around looking for something. He had shot the buck at the base of the antler and blew one side off just as pretty as you could possibly have cut it with a hack saw. I said well, you told me that you wasn't a deer hunter and was going to shoot ones antler off if you saw one. He looked at me like I was crazy and asked me when he said that. Obviously he was three sheets to the wind when he made that statement, but I thought he would remember it. It turns out, as he was climbing, he dropped the Ole dirty thirty and the barrel buried up in the dirt. He cleaned it as best he could and loaded his one and only bullet. The buck came in broadside and 20 yards out. He shouldered the gun, focused the iron sights right behind the shoulder and hit him at the base of the antler. The three of us killed a lot of deer off that small farm, but that was his one and only with the Ole borrowed 30/30.