Bow hunting can go wrong, Elk kills hunter.

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Big, even not so big, strong animals with sharp and pointy bits on their head, and sharp bits at the end of their legs will cause huge damage if cornered and struggling. Even a small Roe Buck can easily cause a fatal injury. In the UK most big deer have been shot out on open hill ground where follow up is relatively straight forward, however given the increase in forestry / woodland and increase number of big deer in woodland it's only a matter of time before we see a similar accident / incident in the UK. As always its the initial shot placement that really counts when trying to prevent such incidents. But **** happens!
 
palmer_mike said:
It’s a shame.

cant help of think of parallels with tracking wounded dangerous game in Africa. I don’t think they’d undertake that with a bow......
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I would hazard a guess that it was during a bow only season and firearms aren't allowed even for a follow up shot. Many states you can't even use a dog to track a wounded deer as there are very strict laws on using dogs to hunt.
 
nun_hunter said:
I would hazard a guess that it was during a bow only season and firearms aren't allowed even for a follow up shot. Many states you can't even use a dog to track a wounded deer as there are very strict laws on using dogs to hunt.
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thank god we live in a country with more enlightened firearms/hunting laws then!
 
palmer_mike said:
thank god we live in a country with more enlightened firearms/hunting laws then!
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I appreciate the strictness of it otherwise I could see people heading out with a bow and rifle during bow season to wound a deer through lack of experience or effort in the knowledge they'll just finish it off with a rifle.
 
nun_hunter said:
I would hazard a guess that it was during a bow only season and firearms aren't allowed even for a follow up shot. Many states you can't even use a dog to track a wounded deer as there are very strict laws on using dogs to hunt.
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You can carry a handgun whilst bow hunting and use it against a threat i.e. bear, but or course if an angry Elk does what it did, who would argue if you shot it in self defence.
Cheers
Richard
 
leec6.5 said:
And people wonder why we go cladded out in Kevlar PPE tracking, god forbid it might save our lives 🙈
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Those uncalled for comments Lee are generally made by idiots who have not been stalking long enough to cover but a few days out of a whole year, and more than likely less than that.
Having been on the receiving end of two wounded large Sika stags in the highlands of Scotland whilst guiding clients, and had both charge me in deep cover underneath commercially planted pines in the middle of nowhere. It goes without saying it can get a little hairy. Its rare that it happens, but if you are it long enough guiding or being called out like you guys are its bound to come along sooner rather than later.

I was fortunate that both times I had Todd my BMH with me, who was one of the most bravest, but intelligent dogs I have ever had, plus a 357 mag revolver, which did the job.
 
devon deer stalker said:
You can carry a handgun whilst bow hunting and use it against a threat i.e. bear, but or course if an angry Elk does what it did, who would argue if you shot it in self defence.
Cheers
Richard
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Not all bow hunting areas allow you to carry a handgun but a lot of states do, in areas we spoke about I would certainly want something in grizzly country,
I read an article the other day of a lad out stalking whitetail with a bow and a bobcat started its attack he managed to knock an arrow and shoot it but if he had of missed its too late for anything else, regards Wayne
 
mereside said:
Not all bow hunting areas allow you to carry a handgun but a lot of states do, in areas we spoke about I would certainly want something in grizzly country,
I read an article the other day of a lad out stalking whitetail with a bow and a bobcat started its attack he managed to knock an arrow and shoot it but if he had of missed its too late for anything else, regards Wayne
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Agreed, I should have stated I was referring to Oregon where the guy lost his life.
As to Bobcats, they aren't a threat unless they have rabies, now a Mountain Lion, that is a whole different ball game, they can kill you, and one of my fellow hunters was stalked by one, but he did have a rifle!
Cheers
Richard
 
devon deer stalker said:
Agreed, I should have stated I was referring to Oregon where the guy lost his life.
As to Bobcats, they aren't a threat unless they have rabies, now a Mountain Lion, that is a whole different ball game, they can kill you, and one of my fellow hunters was stalked by one, but he did have a rifle!
Cheers
Richard
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sorry I meant mountain lion and made an error writing bobcat, here's the post a lot of pictures on one of my bow sites but could easily have gone wrong.

Jake Leonard

utc1gtc5 SpJafohnndscouatretrnya 2aaf01d9 ·
First and foremost I immediately called and reported this to Fish and Game.
This happened back in September as you will see in the story ..... If this story is too long to read - the actual hunt begins at the paragraph that starts, "It was the 18th day of Archery season"
I wanted to share this story in the hopes that it may potentially save someone’s life. I want to bring awareness as this now can literally happen anywhere at anytime so if my experience helps any fellow hunter, fisherman, hiker, trail runner, or anyone else in the woods for that matter than it was all worth it. I’m not the type of person who would be okay if I saw in the news somebody had been attacked, injured, or killed if I had not shared this story. I believe that if this happened to someone with less experience in the woods they may not be here today.
It’s important to know a little about my background to truly understand how this all unfolded … this will help make sense of the luck and skill that saved my life. My brothers and I were raised different than most … The three of us grew up on an acre where my parents raised all kinds of animals; Chickens, Turkeys, Emus, Rheas, Sheep, Pigs, Pheasants, Ducks, Quail, Rabbits and the list goes on. We grew up fishing, hunting but to an extent that goes well beyond what most people think when they hear someone talk about growing up that way. I remember helping push my Pops 2x4 truck out of ruts in the middle of nowhere, catching pheasants at midnight after thanksgiving dinner to trade to the pheasant club where we brought a number of our dogs out to hunt the wild pheasants on the edges of the stocked fields, going hunting for 3-4 days instead of going to Disney World, staying up later than I should on school nights to help “candle” eggs in our incubator, overnight catfish camping trips, bullfrogging until we were covered from head to toe with mud, looking for arrowheads on lake shores, attempting to carve ducks … the list could go on and on. We were raised outdoors, raised playing very competitive sports and that competitiveness trickled through every aspect of our life. My Pops taught us the way of the land very early on. He taught us to respect the land and respect the animals we hunted. He taught us to pick up trash even if it wasn’t ours and to leave the land cleaner than it was left to us. I learned the art of rolling my hunting boots from the heel to toe, trying to feel the earth and twigs through our boots, moving slower than you could imagine. He taught us how to identify birds and to this day he will still throw out a, “Hey Snake, what kind of bird is that?!” Looking off in the distance with a grin on his face. I am very thankful for the way my parents raised us and strive to raise my baby girl the same way aside from maybe adding in a few trips to Disney Land.
We all began shooting bows when we were roughly 5 years old or so. We have pictures of the three of us shooting in our backyard with arrows strewn across bails of hay as you would expect from a 5 year old archer. Before we ever stepped foot in the woods to hunt we were all very good shots. I clearly remember when I was old enough to begin big game hunting seeing my first ever fresh mountain lion track. My pops saying, “make sure when you sit that your back is to a tree and the area you’re hunting is in front of you” as I gripped my bow tighter with just the thought of seeing a powerful animal like that in the woods. He said, “keep your eyes up, don’t get caught looking at the ground, roll your feet, look for movement, a tail flicker, an ear twitch … everything you would expect to hear from a seasoned woodsman. The lessons and tips were endless throughout our childhood while in the woods and we went on adventures/hunts all of the time. I often look back and wonder how that was possible with 3 kids … and I am very thankful to say the least.
For the past 6-7 years, since I moved back to California from Arkansas, I had been hunting on multiple parcels of land very close to each other all of which are public. During the years I have been blessed to have a career that affords me the ability to hunt frequently due to the close proximity of where I live to these spots. I can honestly say that I hunt between 50+ days over a year if you include hunting for all game species, granted most of those hunts are the last few hours of light.
I have hunted these parcels very hard, logging more miles than most people can fathom in a year. I actually tracked my daily average a few years ago in the month of October and had a 7 miles avg per day for the entire month. I have filled my tags just about every year on public land and have seen a lot of game in the process. I bow hunt 98 percent of the time I am in the woods, typically, success does not happen early or often.
I have had multiple trail cameras spread over miles of this terrain and have tons of pictures of very respectable deer from the effort. With that said, the craziest things I have seen on those trail cameras have been a hawk flying away with a rabbit and a river otter literally stalking a turkey (crazy!). Throughout those years there has never been a mountain lion in any of those pictures. I have never seen lion skat, not even one track and have never come across a fresh kill (which I have seen multiple times in other parts of California). I had never actually seen a mountain lion in person. Not in zoo, not anywhere … and I’m stressing the fact that I hunt a lot. The closest thing would have to be a “pet” black panther, that I remember as a kid, this guy had on a leash off of Watt Ave, while my mom drove me home from soccer practice. Needless to say I never thought in a million years that I would see a mountain lion on this land for a number of quality reasons that make a whole lot more sense than just saying I haven’t seen one before. There were no signs that these things even existed out there. In fact, the only possible way someone could learn that property better than me is if they actually lived out there for a very long period of time. I mean, there was absolutely no way, I, nor anyone else was going to see a mountain lion out there … but here I am writing this story.
Now that I have laid the foundation, you should be ready to walk yourself through this hunt with me;
It was the 18th day of archery season and I was hunting under an archery only (AO) tag. The first couple of weeks were very rough as far as hunting in these woods goes. One that didn’t mirror any of the prior seasons before. I wasn’t seeing very many deer at all the first week, neither buck or doe, but I am the type of hunter who is in it for the long haul. I was going to hunt it until I had figured it out again. A week in and it slowly began to pick up as I switched from my initial strategy. My goal for this specific evening hunt was to cover ground, going through thick cover, true riparian jungle habitat, just as slow as I possibly could.
I was still hunting and on my game. I like to compare getting into hunting shape to what some would call getting into football shape. Your body starts to get used to the movements after putting miles on your body through prior hunts. Whenever I “still” hunt it takes me back to those days when my Pops taught me how to play the wind as it could change and swirl as it made its way through canyons, to take in smells as they can alert you to what may be ahead, and to roll my boots in order to conceal my footsteps. It’s almost as if I can feel the same rocks under my feet that I felt the first time I took a step like that. I have perfected becoming very stealthy in the woods over the years and an unbelievable number of miles. I typically can get very close to animals nearly every time I hunt and most of the time they have no clue I am there. As a hunter it is a feeling that is hard to describe being next to a wild animal … that close and completely undetected.
I began my still hunt walking very slowly on a road with the wind blowing fairly strong into my left shoulder. I made my way into the thickest part of the riparian jungle that borders what looks like two fields but is really dried up drainage overflow ponds. The wind was now blowing directly into me as I weaved my way over and under branches that seemed to go in every direction. I slowly made my way to a clearing that I had been headed for. As I emerged from the riparian habitat, through a small clearing, I look back and get my landmark. A few deer trails followed the same route through to the entrance tunnel made up of dead branches. I used them to move as stealthy as I could. At this point I turned back towards the “fields” and realized the weed cover was significantly shorter than any year before. I was looking at a field that looked very huntable instead of looking at weeds that typically towered over my head. I used to have to follow these deer runs to have a clear path to any huntable area while remembering my trails from seasons before. I was feeling confident my strategy was going to pay off. As I felt the wind still blowing strong into my face I knew that anything in front of me was not going to have any chance of winding me. The bottom of the dried up drainage pond has a firm but sandy feel to it. Covered in short weeds trampled by many deer who have used the trails before me. I could move through this incredibly quiet while truly taking my time.
I began to circle the outer left edge of this field hugging the riparian habitat using my binoculars to scope both the field in front of me as well as the edges of any thick cover I could see. I made it maybe 200 yards in an hour. When you’re moving that slow through the woods you begin to entrance yourself with the wild world around you. You know what types of birds are making very specific noises in the bushes as you walk. You learn the sound of a squirrel running on the ground opposed to running through or up or down a tree. You also pick up on the levels of where all of those sounds are coming from. You feel like you are molding into nature when everything begins to start communicating from the initial silence you embark upon. Birds chirping and feeding in the underbrush, squirrels running through the sandy weeded bottoms, everything calling to each other like you weren’t there at all. That feeling is what lets me instinctually know that at our core we are predators. One of my main loves with the woods and hunting is observing and listening to the woods come alive as my presence is forgotten. It makes you feel small, a very surreal feeling, an amazing feeling that I am drawn to at my core. That feeling is enhanced when you are completely by yourself, away from any kind of hiking trail or scrub road … right in the middle of nature … existing within it … using all of the skills I learned growing up.
I had that feeling within the first 10 yards along the edge of the field. At this point in the hunt I still haven’t seen anything other than squirrels in the trees and birds feeding in the undergrowth. The wind was still absolutely perfect, blowing directly into me and I was more than zoned in. I was existing in nature, completely aware of all of my surroundings. I continued following the edge as I made my way to a pinch point that lies almost smack dab in the middle of where a few very large oak trees intersect these two fields … just as I begin stepping into the second field I suddenly hear an eruption of leaves and broken branches. I immediately knew it was multiple deer when I heard the way their hooves struck the ground as they bolted through the sandy bottoms. I counted 6 heads bounding off heading through the riparian jungle. As I watched them flee I noticed the last doe stopped, at about 40 yards from me, frozen, as it looked back curiously at what had spooked her. I caught that look in my binoculars and knew in an instant that it was not my presence that kicked those deer up. The doe was looking off of my left shoulder clued into something behind me that I had not seen or heard. I knew there was no way those deer smelled me with how hard that wind was blowing and absolutely no way they heard me. The wind would have helped cover any distinguishable noise if I had made any missteps. I didn’t make any missteps. I know for certain I wasn’t what had kicked those deer up.
My first thought brought me back to the hunts leading up to this one. I had been seeing a coyote every hunt for the first week of the season and a coyote at least every other hunt the second week of the season. I thought there must be a coyote nearby that just spooked these deer … in that instant I suddenly felt like something had just breathed on the back of my neck sending chills throughout my body and making the hair stand up on the back of my neck …. something felt off, something was close to me, something was directly behind me … I then hear the smallest “SNAP”. The kind of distinct snap that is only made by something big, something with enough weight behind it to break a twig sharply on sandy ground. Whatever it was is suddenly directly behind me. I know from experience in the woods not to make any sudden movements as I turn slowly to look over my right shoulder. As soon as my eyes steady I realize a mountain lion is staring directly into my eyes. It was very close, at what I ranged after to be 16 yards away. I believe the only thing that held this thing up from attacking my back was that misstep. I believe that snap had it frozen. The same reaction I would have made if my prey had heard me stalking in on it.
The thoughts in my head went wild … I can only try to explain my actual reactions and write this in a way that will let you try to paint a picture of how this actually happened. It was almost as if my thoughts were background music playing in my head while my body and mind instinctively took over my actions. I was turned around and squared up to this thing with an arrow knocked but my bow is still in my hand. With my hands now above my head and as wide as they can be in an effort to look as large as possible I begin screaming at the top of my lungs. In my head I thought, damn … those deer just got away by running - yeah right you know not to do that … you run your dead! I thought why the hell can’t bowhunters carry a side arm, that could save my life right now, I thought this thing is hunting you - keep screaming at it - as loud as you possibly can! I thought this could get bad, You’re going to be attacked by a mountain lion - it is hunting me - it can come any second! As I am still actively yelling at the top of my lungs. I think, what the hell is this thing thinking I’m 6’1 220 lbs, with a pack on, with a 34” bow in my hands while screaming at it at the top of my lungs, why isn’t running off?! I realize he is set on hunting me, I think … get to full draw, NOW! As I am still screaming at the mountain lion, for what felt like forever and with my thoughts running wild in the back of my head, I knew it was too long. I was completely uncomfortable with the thought that I had any chance of scaring it off. I realized the lion wasn’t going anywhere. I realized this thing just followed my steps exactly. It was directly behind me for who knows how long as the wind was playing to its favor covering any potential misstep it had made before breaking the twig at 16 yards behind me … It had come through the same exact route I took to my current location 16 yds in front of him. I knew it was going to turn into a knife fight real quick if I didn’t act! My bow could only be used as a shield if I hesitated any longer. I also knew I had to keep yelling just in case I had a chance of throwing him off of his intentions and holding him up. The lion still had not blinked once, had not flinched or moved a muscle, he was already positioned head low and ready to go from the moment I saw it. I get to full draw while screaming, “get the **** outta here!!!!” and mock lunged at it while at full draw. Still no blink, no flinch, no movement. I repeat it desperately again at full draw as I lunge slightly forward one last time and yell as loud as I possibly can. It seemed as if the cat and I both knew at that moment there was nothing left to do but react. I see the head drop about an inch and tail flick. Suddenly, instinctively … with my thoughts in the background music to myself, I fell back to what I was taught growing up, pick a spot - leave your bow up - pick a spot - leave your bow up, I let the arrow fly. I am convinced at this point that I had absolutely no direct control and my instincts have completely taken over my actions. Almost like someone pulled the release trigger for me as I felt my back tension. I didn’t know in that moment but it was suddenly all over. The lion that was hunting me was no longer a threat, the arrow found its mark and just saved my life. I looked in disbelief as I saw the lion crumble where he stood. It didn’t take one step …
I knew it was dead instantly. I saw the tail flick one time from nerves firing off after it dropped. I began shaking uncontrollably. I knocked another arrow, with the thought of trail camera pictures from throughout California that had multiple mountain lions in packs of 2-4+. I was in the red and I was not going to be blindsided by another lion if there was one. I feverishly scanned the woods beyond the lion, and through the thickets surrounding me at this pinch point. I’m still shaking and haven’t taken another step other than pivoting to search all around me. I finally settled in on the direction the lion laid. I immediately call fish and game … a warden who I have seen out there many times before who knew how well and how often I hunted the area. I can barely get my words out over the phone trying to explain what had just happened. I manage to get out what had just played out and dropped the warden a pin so he could make his way out to my location. I told the warden I haven’t walked up to the animal yet and I didn’t want to, that I wasn’t going to touch it at all. I accepted at this point that I was in complete shock of what just happened and took his advice on confirming the lion was dead. Through my experience in the woods I already knew it was but I also knew that I had to confirm.
I begin to walk up to it as slow as I crept through the pinch point originally with the second arrow still knocked. As I got closer I saw that my arrow had found its mark. I had hit the lion in his left eye and killed it instantly. I walk backwards away from the lion and call the warden back and confirm the lion was dead. He assured me a warden was on his way.
I called my pops as he knows this area just about as well as I do and let him know what had just happened. Throughout the entire conversation none of what I was saying felt real or like it had actually happened. I look back at the lion on the ground and realized I had just escaped this situation with my life and became so grateful for everything. For the way it unfolded. For the skill to pick up on the little things that didn’t add up, to hear the twig snap, to have been shooting a bow since I was 5 years old, to have stood my ground, to have pulled the trigger release when I did, for the luck that was on my side. I began playing everything through my head again, and again … and again. The situation was so surreal that to this day when I tell the story I get goose bumps, the hair stands back up on the back of my neck and on my arms. I vividly remember every little detail about the events. I feel incredibly lucky.
I called my wife and explained the story to her and that I would be home late as I was awaiting for the warden to arrive. I told her how much I love her, how much I love our baby girl and that I couldn’t wait to get home to give them hugs. My wife is truly awesome. She understands how much passion I have for hunting, and how much time I have put in since I was a kid. After we got off the phone she sent me a text, “Babe … nice shot, I’m so proud of you, so thankful you are ok but I never have to worry about you out there and this just further solidified that”. It made me feel incredible.
It helped me realize a lot of what just unfolded only happened because of my experience in the woods, because of the skills I have developed over my lifetime of hunting just as that lion had developed his. The mountain lion was coming for me and I had no choice but to let the arrow fly. I didn’t want to kill that animal. I had always hoped my first mountain lion sighting would be one from a far where I could truly admire it in the woods. I have a ton of respect for mountain lions … more so now than ever. The fact that archers are not allowed to carry a side arm for protection under an archery only tag has been on my mind significantly. If I would have had a side arm at the time I am confident that situation could have turned out completely different. A gun shot is completely different than simply shouting at the top of your lungs. I could have shot into the ground in front of him or over his head possibly preventing having to actually kill the lion. Even if the first shot didn’t scare it off I would have others if it came at me and I am very confident it would have ended before that lion got to me regardless how it unfolded. Unfortunately, with a bow, you simply don’t have that luxury … not from 16 yards away. I could have hit that lion in a non lethal spot and it could have easily got to me before I could do anything other than use my bow as shield and turning it into a knife fight. I’m incredibly thankful that didn’t happen. I strongly believe that my experience should be used in trying to argue the legality of allowing bowhunters to carry a sidearm with them for personal protection.
While feeling so incredibly grateful I immediately thought about how lucky I was. I also thought about how unfortunate the situation was. It was a predator out there doing exactly what I was doing. The beauty of seeing my first mountain lion ever was certainly overshadowed by the overwhelming fact that it was hunting me. It only made one mistake that made me physically turn my head. Without hearing that twig snap I may have not made it out of the woods that day.
 
Crikey - shows how easy we have it over here!

That said, I reckon most good hunters would know something was there. As for having the balls to stand and yell at a mountain lion standing that close, hmm, I reckon if that was me it would be the smell that put the lion off. I'd s*** myself! :lol:
 
nun_hunter said:
I would hazard a guess that it was during a bow only season and firearms aren't allowed even for a follow up shot. Many states you can't even use a dog to track a wounded deer as there are very strict laws on using dogs to hunt.
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Yes, that was during the bow only season and Oregon does not allow the use of dogs to track wounded game. Hunters are killed from time to time by deer, elk, moose, bear. It is rare but it does happen. That incident happened about 90 miles from me. Those woods are really thick.
 
sikamalc said:
Those uncalled for comments Lee are generally made by idiots who have not been stalking long enough to cover but a few days out of a whole year, and more than likely less than that.
Having been on the receiving end of two wounded large Sika stags in the highlands of Scotland whilst guiding clients, and had both charge me in deep cover underneath commercially planted pines in the middle of nowhere. It goes without saying it can get a little hairy. Its rare that it happens, but if you are it long enough guiding or being called out like you guys are its bound to come along sooner rather than later.

I was fortunate that both times I had Todd my BMH with me, who was one of the most bravest, but intelligent dogs I have ever had, plus a 357 mag revolver, which did the job.
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I’ve been lunged at by both Sika and roe, walking in too early! No injuries thankfully 😅
 
mereside said:
sorry I meant mountain lion and made an error writing bobcat, here's the post a lot of pictures on one of my bow sites but could easily have gone wrong.

Jake Leonard

utc1gtc5 SpJafohnndscouatretrnya 2aaf01d9 ·
First and foremost I immediately called and reported this to Fish and Game.
This happened back in September as you will see in the story ..... If this story is too long to read - the actual hunt begins at the paragraph that starts, "It was the 18th day of Archery season"
I wanted to share this story in the hopes that it may potentially save someone’s life. I want to bring awareness as this now can literally happen anywhere at anytime so if my experience helps any fellow hunter, fisherman, hiker, trail runner, or anyone else in the woods for that matter than it was all worth it. I’m not the type of person who would be okay if I saw in the news somebody had been attacked, injured, or killed if I had not shared this story. I believe that if this happened to someone with less experience in the woods they may not be here today.
It’s important to know a little about my background to truly understand how this all unfolded … this will help make sense of the luck and skill that saved my life. My brothers and I were raised different than most … The three of us grew up on an acre where my parents raised all kinds of animals; Chickens, Turkeys, Emus, Rheas, Sheep, Pigs, Pheasants, Ducks, Quail, Rabbits and the list goes on. We grew up fishing, hunting but to an extent that goes well beyond what most people think when they hear someone talk about growing up that way. I remember helping push my Pops 2x4 truck out of ruts in the middle of nowhere, catching pheasants at midnight after thanksgiving dinner to trade to the pheasant club where we brought a number of our dogs out to hunt the wild pheasants on the edges of the stocked fields, going hunting for 3-4 days instead of going to Disney World, staying up later than I should on school nights to help “candle” eggs in our incubator, overnight catfish camping trips, bullfrogging until we were covered from head to toe with mud, looking for arrowheads on lake shores, attempting to carve ducks … the list could go on and on. We were raised outdoors, raised playing very competitive sports and that competitiveness trickled through every aspect of our life. My Pops taught us the way of the land very early on. He taught us to respect the land and respect the animals we hunted. He taught us to pick up trash even if it wasn’t ours and to leave the land cleaner than it was left to us. I learned the art of rolling my hunting boots from the heel to toe, trying to feel the earth and twigs through our boots, moving slower than you could imagine. He taught us how to identify birds and to this day he will still throw out a, “Hey Snake, what kind of bird is that?!” Looking off in the distance with a grin on his face. I am very thankful for the way my parents raised us and strive to raise my baby girl the same way aside from maybe adding in a few trips to Disney Land.
We all began shooting bows when we were roughly 5 years old or so. We have pictures of the three of us shooting in our backyard with arrows strewn across bails of hay as you would expect from a 5 year old archer. Before we ever stepped foot in the woods to hunt we were all very good shots. I clearly remember when I was old enough to begin big game hunting seeing my first ever fresh mountain lion track. My pops saying, “make sure when you sit that your back is to a tree and the area you’re hunting is in front of you” as I gripped my bow tighter with just the thought of seeing a powerful animal like that in the woods. He said, “keep your eyes up, don’t get caught looking at the ground, roll your feet, look for movement, a tail flicker, an ear twitch … everything you would expect to hear from a seasoned woodsman. The lessons and tips were endless throughout our childhood while in the woods and we went on adventures/hunts all of the time. I often look back and wonder how that was possible with 3 kids … and I am very thankful to say the least.
For the past 6-7 years, since I moved back to California from Arkansas, I had been hunting on multiple parcels of land very close to each other all of which are public. During the years I have been blessed to have a career that affords me the ability to hunt frequently due to the close proximity of where I live to these spots. I can honestly say that I hunt between 50+ days over a year if you include hunting for all game species, granted most of those hunts are the last few hours of light.
I have hunted these parcels very hard, logging more miles than most people can fathom in a year. I actually tracked my daily average a few years ago in the month of October and had a 7 miles avg per day for the entire month. I have filled my tags just about every year on public land and have seen a lot of game in the process. I bow hunt 98 percent of the time I am in the woods, typically, success does not happen early or often.
I have had multiple trail cameras spread over miles of this terrain and have tons of pictures of very respectable deer from the effort. With that said, the craziest things I have seen on those trail cameras have been a hawk flying away with a rabbit and a river otter literally stalking a turkey (crazy!). Throughout those years there has never been a mountain lion in any of those pictures. I have never seen lion skat, not even one track and have never come across a fresh kill (which I have seen multiple times in other parts of California). I had never actually seen a mountain lion in person. Not in zoo, not anywhere … and I’m stressing the fact that I hunt a lot. The closest thing would have to be a “pet” black panther, that I remember as a kid, this guy had on a leash off of Watt Ave, while my mom drove me home from soccer practice. Needless to say I never thought in a million years that I would see a mountain lion on this land for a number of quality reasons that make a whole lot more sense than just saying I haven’t seen one before. There were no signs that these things even existed out there. In fact, the only possible way someone could learn that property better than me is if they actually lived out there for a very long period of time. I mean, there was absolutely no way, I, nor anyone else was going to see a mountain lion out there … but here I am writing this story.
Now that I have laid the foundation, you should be ready to walk yourself through this hunt with me;
It was the 18th day of archery season and I was hunting under an archery only (AO) tag. The first couple of weeks were very rough as far as hunting in these woods goes. One that didn’t mirror any of the prior seasons before. I wasn’t seeing very many deer at all the first week, neither buck or doe, but I am the type of hunter who is in it for the long haul. I was going to hunt it until I had figured it out again. A week in and it slowly began to pick up as I switched from my initial strategy. My goal for this specific evening hunt was to cover ground, going through thick cover, true riparian jungle habitat, just as slow as I possibly could.
I was still hunting and on my game. I like to compare getting into hunting shape to what some would call getting into football shape. Your body starts to get used to the movements after putting miles on your body through prior hunts. Whenever I “still” hunt it takes me back to those days when my Pops taught me how to play the wind as it could change and swirl as it made its way through canyons, to take in smells as they can alert you to what may be ahead, and to roll my boots in order to conceal my footsteps. It’s almost as if I can feel the same rocks under my feet that I felt the first time I took a step like that. I have perfected becoming very stealthy in the woods over the years and an unbelievable number of miles. I typically can get very close to animals nearly every time I hunt and most of the time they have no clue I am there. As a hunter it is a feeling that is hard to describe being next to a wild animal … that close and completely undetected.
I began my still hunt walking very slowly on a road with the wind blowing fairly strong into my left shoulder. I made my way into the thickest part of the riparian jungle that borders what looks like two fields but is really dried up drainage overflow ponds. The wind was now blowing directly into me as I weaved my way over and under branches that seemed to go in every direction. I slowly made my way to a clearing that I had been headed for. As I emerged from the riparian habitat, through a small clearing, I look back and get my landmark. A few deer trails followed the same route through to the entrance tunnel made up of dead branches. I used them to move as stealthy as I could. At this point I turned back towards the “fields” and realized the weed cover was significantly shorter than any year before. I was looking at a field that looked very huntable instead of looking at weeds that typically towered over my head. I used to have to follow these deer runs to have a clear path to any huntable area while remembering my trails from seasons before. I was feeling confident my strategy was going to pay off. As I felt the wind still blowing strong into my face I knew that anything in front of me was not going to have any chance of winding me. The bottom of the dried up drainage pond has a firm but sandy feel to it. Covered in short weeds trampled by many deer who have used the trails before me. I could move through this incredibly quiet while truly taking my time.
I began to circle the outer left edge of this field hugging the riparian habitat using my binoculars to scope both the field in front of me as well as the edges of any thick cover I could see. I made it maybe 200 yards in an hour. When you’re moving that slow through the woods you begin to entrance yourself with the wild world around you. You know what types of birds are making very specific noises in the bushes as you walk. You learn the sound of a squirrel running on the ground opposed to running through or up or down a tree. You also pick up on the levels of where all of those sounds are coming from. You feel like you are molding into nature when everything begins to start communicating from the initial silence you embark upon. Birds chirping and feeding in the underbrush, squirrels running through the sandy weeded bottoms, everything calling to each other like you weren’t there at all. That feeling is what lets me instinctually know that at our core we are predators. One of my main loves with the woods and hunting is observing and listening to the woods come alive as my presence is forgotten. It makes you feel small, a very surreal feeling, an amazing feeling that I am drawn to at my core. That feeling is enhanced when you are completely by yourself, away from any kind of hiking trail or scrub road … right in the middle of nature … existing within it … using all of the skills I learned growing up.
I had that feeling within the first 10 yards along the edge of the field. At this point in the hunt I still haven’t seen anything other than squirrels in the trees and birds feeding in the undergrowth. The wind was still absolutely perfect, blowing directly into me and I was more than zoned in. I was existing in nature, completely aware of all of my surroundings. I continued following the edge as I made my way to a pinch point that lies almost smack dab in the middle of where a few very large oak trees intersect these two fields … just as I begin stepping into the second field I suddenly hear an eruption of leaves and broken branches. I immediately knew it was multiple deer when I heard the way their hooves struck the ground as they bolted through the sandy bottoms. I counted 6 heads bounding off heading through the riparian jungle. As I watched them flee I noticed the last doe stopped, at about 40 yards from me, frozen, as it looked back curiously at what had spooked her. I caught that look in my binoculars and knew in an instant that it was not my presence that kicked those deer up. The doe was looking off of my left shoulder clued into something behind me that I had not seen or heard. I knew there was no way those deer smelled me with how hard that wind was blowing and absolutely no way they heard me. The wind would have helped cover any distinguishable noise if I had made any missteps. I didn’t make any missteps. I know for certain I wasn’t what had kicked those deer up.
My first thought brought me back to the hunts leading up to this one. I had been seeing a coyote every hunt for the first week of the season and a coyote at least every other hunt the second week of the season. I thought there must be a coyote nearby that just spooked these deer … in that instant I suddenly felt like something had just breathed on the back of my neck sending chills throughout my body and making the hair stand up on the back of my neck …. something felt off, something was close to me, something was directly behind me … I then hear the smallest “SNAP”. The kind of distinct snap that is only made by something big, something with enough weight behind it to break a twig sharply on sandy ground. Whatever it was is suddenly directly behind me. I know from experience in the woods not to make any sudden movements as I turn slowly to look over my right shoulder. As soon as my eyes steady I realize a mountain lion is staring directly into my eyes. It was very close, at what I ranged after to be 16 yards away. I believe the only thing that held this thing up from attacking my back was that misstep. I believe that snap had it frozen. The same reaction I would have made if my prey had heard me stalking in on it.
The thoughts in my head went wild … I can only try to explain my actual reactions and write this in a way that will let you try to paint a picture of how this actually happened. It was almost as if my thoughts were background music playing in my head while my body and mind instinctively took over my actions. I was turned around and squared up to this thing with an arrow knocked but my bow is still in my hand. With my hands now above my head and as wide as they can be in an effort to look as large as possible I begin screaming at the top of my lungs. In my head I thought, damn … those deer just got away by running - yeah right you know not to do that … you run your dead! I thought why the hell can’t bowhunters carry a side arm, that could save my life right now, I thought this thing is hunting you - keep screaming at it - as loud as you possibly can! I thought this could get bad, You’re going to be attacked by a mountain lion - it is hunting me - it can come any second! As I am still actively yelling at the top of my lungs. I think, what the hell is this thing thinking I’m 6’1 220 lbs, with a pack on, with a 34” bow in my hands while screaming at it at the top of my lungs, why isn’t running off?! I realize he is set on hunting me, I think … get to full draw, NOW! As I am still screaming at the mountain lion, for what felt like forever and with my thoughts running wild in the back of my head, I knew it was too long. I was completely uncomfortable with the thought that I had any chance of scaring it off. I realized the lion wasn’t going anywhere. I realized this thing just followed my steps exactly. It was directly behind me for who knows how long as the wind was playing to its favor covering any potential misstep it had made before breaking the twig at 16 yards behind me … It had come through the same exact route I took to my current location 16 yds in front of him. I knew it was going to turn into a knife fight real quick if I didn’t act! My bow could only be used as a shield if I hesitated any longer. I also knew I had to keep yelling just in case I had a chance of throwing him off of his intentions and holding him up. The lion still had not blinked once, had not flinched or moved a muscle, he was already positioned head low and ready to go from the moment I saw it. I get to full draw while screaming, “get the **** outta here!!!!” and mock lunged at it while at full draw. Still no blink, no flinch, no movement. I repeat it desperately again at full draw as I lunge slightly forward one last time and yell as loud as I possibly can. It seemed as if the cat and I both knew at that moment there was nothing left to do but react. I see the head drop about an inch and tail flick. Suddenly, instinctively … with my thoughts in the background music to myself, I fell back to what I was taught growing up, pick a spot - leave your bow up - pick a spot - leave your bow up, I let the arrow fly. I am convinced at this point that I had absolutely no direct control and my instincts have completely taken over my actions. Almost like someone pulled the release trigger for me as I felt my back tension. I didn’t know in that moment but it was suddenly all over. The lion that was hunting me was no longer a threat, the arrow found its mark and just saved my life. I looked in disbelief as I saw the lion crumble where he stood. It didn’t take one step …
I knew it was dead instantly. I saw the tail flick one time from nerves firing off after it dropped. I began shaking uncontrollably. I knocked another arrow, with the thought of trail camera pictures from throughout California that had multiple mountain lions in packs of 2-4+. I was in the red and I was not going to be blindsided by another lion if there was one. I feverishly scanned the woods beyond the lion, and through the thickets surrounding me at this pinch point. I’m still shaking and haven’t taken another step other than pivoting to search all around me. I finally settled in on the direction the lion laid. I immediately call fish and game … a warden who I have seen out there many times before who knew how well and how often I hunted the area. I can barely get my words out over the phone trying to explain what had just happened. I manage to get out what had just played out and dropped the warden a pin so he could make his way out to my location. I told the warden I haven’t walked up to the animal yet and I didn’t want to, that I wasn’t going to touch it at all. I accepted at this point that I was in complete shock of what just happened and took his advice on confirming the lion was dead. Through my experience in the woods I already knew it was but I also knew that I had to confirm.
I begin to walk up to it as slow as I crept through the pinch point originally with the second arrow still knocked. As I got closer I saw that my arrow had found its mark. I had hit the lion in his left eye and killed it instantly. I walk backwards away from the lion and call the warden back and confirm the lion was dead. He assured me a warden was on his way.
I called my pops as he knows this area just about as well as I do and let him know what had just happened. Throughout the entire conversation none of what I was saying felt real or like it had actually happened. I look back at the lion on the ground and realized I had just escaped this situation with my life and became so grateful for everything. For the way it unfolded. For the skill to pick up on the little things that didn’t add up, to hear the twig snap, to have been shooting a bow since I was 5 years old, to have stood my ground, to have pulled the trigger release when I did, for the luck that was on my side. I began playing everything through my head again, and again … and again. The situation was so surreal that to this day when I tell the story I get goose bumps, the hair stands back up on the back of my neck and on my arms. I vividly remember every little detail about the events. I feel incredibly lucky.
I called my wife and explained the story to her and that I would be home late as I was awaiting for the warden to arrive. I told her how much I love her, how much I love our baby girl and that I couldn’t wait to get home to give them hugs. My wife is truly awesome. She understands how much passion I have for hunting, and how much time I have put in since I was a kid. After we got off the phone she sent me a text, “Babe … nice shot, I’m so proud of you, so thankful you are ok but I never have to worry about you out there and this just further solidified that”. It made me feel incredible.
It helped me realize a lot of what just unfolded only happened because of my experience in the woods, because of the skills I have developed over my lifetime of hunting just as that lion had developed his. The mountain lion was coming for me and I had no choice but to let the arrow fly. I didn’t want to kill that animal. I had always hoped my first mountain lion sighting would be one from a far where I could truly admire it in the woods. I have a ton of respect for mountain lions … more so now than ever. The fact that archers are not allowed to carry a side arm for protection under an archery only tag has been on my mind significantly. If I would have had a side arm at the time I am confident that situation could have turned out completely different. A gun shot is completely different than simply shouting at the top of your lungs. I could have shot into the ground in front of him or over his head possibly preventing having to actually kill the lion. Even if the first shot didn’t scare it off I would have others if it came at me and I am very confident it would have ended before that lion got to me regardless how it unfolded. Unfortunately, with a bow, you simply don’t have that luxury … not from 16 yards away. I could have hit that lion in a non lethal spot and it could have easily got to me before I could do anything other than use my bow as shield and turning it into a knife fight. I’m incredibly thankful that didn’t happen. I strongly believe that my experience should be used in trying to argue the legality of allowing bowhunters to carry a sidearm with them for personal protection.
While feeling so incredibly grateful I immediately thought about how lucky I was. I also thought about how unfortunate the situation was. It was a predator out there doing exactly what I was doing. The beauty of seeing my first mountain lion ever was certainly overshadowed by the overwhelming fact that it was hunting me. It only made one mistake that made me physically turn my head. Without hearing that twig snap I may have not made it out of the woods that day.
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I’m going to start reading this post...should be done by 2021 🤪
 
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