A Reddit user said one of his worst hunting scares started because he took a newbie grouse hunting. According to his comment in the thread, the guy with him spotted movement in a bush and thought it was a grouse. He took the shot. Instead of a bird flushing out, a moose calf stepped out of the brush. Then, a moment later, the real problem appeared: an angry cow moose right behind it.
The hunter said the setup could not have been much worse. They were on a cliffside trail with steep terrain dropping off on both sides, which meant there was no easy way to slip away, circle around, or put real distance between themselves and a protective mother moose. To make matters even tighter, all they had loaded was birdshot. He added later that he had forgotten he had a slug tucked away in a pocket somewhere for bear country, but in the moment that did not help much. What they actually had in their guns was grouse ammo, and now they were staring at a cow moose with a calf at close range on a trail where they were badly boxed in.
He said the next half minute felt very tense. The cow stomped her hooves while the two hunters tried to make themselves look small. From the way he told it, they were not trying to act tough or force the issue. They knew immediately they were in the wrong and badly outmatched if she decided to come all the way in. A cow moose with a calf is already one of the worst animals to surprise at close range, and on a narrow cliffside trail there is not much room for mistakes.
Fortunately, the moose did not charge. After that standoff, the cow took off with the calf, climbing up the cliffside and getting out of there. The hunter ended that part of the story by saying, pretty bluntly, that they were very much in the wrong. It was not one of those hunting stories where somebody tries to spin a near disaster into a heroic moment. It was more like a hard admission that one bad shot at movement in the brush nearly put them in a deadly situation with the wrong ammo, the wrong terrain, and a very justified mother moose.
The same commenter also told a second story in that thread that may have been even more life-threatening, just in a completely different way. He said he was hunting ducks and snow geese with two buddies in below-freezing weather during a winter storm at high tide. They were set up in a foreshore area when a flight of snow geese came straight at them. He dropped two birds, but they landed out in the middle of a channel. On most days that would have been manageable, but not with high tide and freezing conditions. Even knowing that, he went after them anyway.
A few steps into the channel, he said he stepped into a pocket and went completely under, waders and all. He had at least left his shotgun back on the sled, but he was still suddenly swimming in frigid water. He managed to grab one goose quickly, then kept going after the second one even though it was just out of reach. By the time he finally snagged it, he said he knew he was in trouble. He yelled to his buddies that he was done and heading back to the cars, then slogged back to solid ground with water-filled waders and frozen clothes, slipping and falling multiple times on the way.
He said by the time he got back up on the dyke he felt like an ice block. People standing there were shocked watching him drag himself out. He forced himself back to the car, dumped his gear, and spent the next ten minutes trying to peel himself out of frozen waders and clothing. He even said he had to talk himself out of using a knife to cut himself free. Luckily he had spare clothes in the car, and once he got changed, he sat blasting the heat and drinking hot tea until he finally started feeling human again. Even then, it took another hour before he felt okay enough to drive. His buddies brought his gear back later, and he gave them the geese for doing it. Looking back, he called it a fun story now, but also admitted it was a stupid decision to risk his health over two birds.
So the stories he told were two different kinds of hunting danger. One was instant and explosive: a shot at what was thought to be a grouse, a moose calf stepping out, and an angry cow on a cliffside trail with only birdshot in the guns. The other was slower and just as deadly: freezing water, high tide, heavy waders, and the kind of hypothermia spiral that can start with one stubborn decision not to leave a couple of birds behind.
What do you think — which is worse: realizing too late that the “grouse” in the brush is actually a moose calf with its mother right there, or knowing you are already sliding toward hypothermia because you went after birds you should have left alone?
Original Reddit post: What are some of your hunting horror stories?
