Bad Shot That Ended With a Recovery...

[WapitiTalk1]

Ya, bad shots/hits happen; hunting/shooting elk is not always text book, poetry in motion, everything occurred perfectly at the moment of truth, like you read in the hunting mags (or on hunting forums for that matter). After you’ve hunted for a year or forty, stuff happens that was not our intention/plan. Share a story of a bad hit (what happened that made the hit less than ideal), and the follow on factors that ended on a positive recovery.  I’ve got a dandy and will share it later.

[High Climber]

A few years back during late archery, I spotted elk feeding in the back pocket of a 3 year old cut. It was extremely foggy and just happed to see a few elk asses when it thinned out for a second. I made a short stalk through the timber with good wind and approached the edge of the clear cut. The last 30 feet or so had quite a few young hemlocks that were in the 6’-8’ range. As I got to where I could see into the cut I immediately spotted a nice fat cow feeding 20 yards out. I picked a lane and waited patiently until she stepped into it. At the shot my arrow immediately deflected and stuck her square in the hind quarter!! FML there was a hemlock top that was under my pins but in the path of my arrow.  The herd busted and I ran to where she was standing to see if I could get another arrow in her before they went back in the thick stuff.  I got a good visual on each elk and didn’t see any blood or limpers ( hoof rot wasn’t bad yet). About that time I heard sticks break about 30 yards away... I looked where the sound came from and I could see elk legs straight up in the air!! I got extremely lucky and my deflected arrow buried in the femoral artery! She was down within seconds in what very easily could have been a long blood trail with no notched tag.

[zwickeyman]

I shot a big Black Bear Boar some years ago. Shot him with my recurve at a slight quartering towards me shot, shooting from my knees at about 18 yards my bottom limb hit a branch and shot him in front of the shoulder instead of behind. He whirled and ran back from where he had just came, 20 minutes before dark. I was scared *censored*less and didnt move from my spot for 20 minutes knowing I had a wounded Bear waiting for me. Finally went and looked for blood and it was every where. Easy 80 yard track job, got lucky and hit his jugular. Nice 18 3/4" Boar

[Pete112288]

My first year muzzleloader hunting I drew a late season Coweeman antlerless tag.
After a hard time of making rookie mistakes (not packing enough reloads, leaving powder flask in truck, letting stuff get wet... etc) I finally had a fresh bead on a group of 6 cows that I had been watching for several days. They were hanging around the same chunk of land on and off of private. I was hunting Weyco land (the last year before pay to play on the St Helens tree farm). Fresh snow gave me some good tracks through some thick reprod. Walked up on the elk bedded at about 10 feet in front of me. Lifted up to fire at the first cow that stood up, and she was broadside. Pulled the trigger, click....... what felt like an hour later but was proabably less than a second... boom. She had turned by the time it went off and it struck solid in her right butt cheek (later found the bullet in her ball/socket joint of that leg to hip.) After a long tiring tracking job through that stuff, passing on the others knowing I had a wounded animal there, I finally caught up to her and was able to put her down with a solid vital shot. I got lucky at one point cause the tracks all split at a knoll in the reprod and I had to use my best guess at which set were hers.

[ASienkiewich]

My first cow I ever shot was on a toutle January hunt. Found a group of cows in the timber, raised up and shot her right in the front shoulder(whoops). I was shooting my dads old 30.06 with some 150gr soft points... LOL Won’t ever shoot those again. It did not penetrate through her shoulder so she was on the move. We followed spotty blood and tracks for hours. Saw her a couple times and couldn’t get a shot. Finally we caught her on an old road in the timber and I dumped her. Then we were able to drive the truck right up to her😂 Great first story I guess


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[Wetwoodshunter]

My first elk that I shot we called in to 25 yards. I had a frontal shot and wrong pinned the elk, thinking back I must have used my 40 yard pin. The arrow went in the tear duct of the elk and through the brain. The elk slowly looked from right to left and you could see 8" of arrow and fletch in front of my bull's face. As clear as can be I can still hear my cousin's saying "You shot him in the f$$$ing face, why would you do that?"

The bull drunkenly stomped off. I sat there sick thinking that this bull was gone and 15 mins later we went after it hoping that I may get another shot on him. He was piled up dead in a creek 30-45 yards from where I hit him.

Sometimes its best to be lucky. Although I would never shoot another elk in the face with a bow it did the trick on that one.

[trophyhunt]

I shot a big Black Bear Boar some years ago. Shot him with my recurve at a slight quartering towards me shot, shooting from my knees at about 18 yards my bottom limb hit a branch and shot him in front of the shoulder instead of behind. He whirled and ran back from where he had just came, 20 minutes before dark. I was scared *censored*less and didnt move from my spot for 20 minutes knowing I had a wounded Bear waiting for me. Finally went and looked for blood and it was every where. Easy 80 yard track job, got lucky and hit his jugular. Nice 18 3/4" Boar

Cool story man, I know the feeling, looking for a wounded bear by yourself if exciting as heck.  Done it a couple times.

[Bullkllr]

When my oldest son was a young teen he missed a standing broadside shot on a blacktail buck. I said, "Shoot again!" Just as he squeezed off a second shot, the deer whirled, then simply disappeared in the reprod. I really had no idea if he hit it or not.

We went up there and eventually found the buck wedged between some logs not 6 feet from where he had been. The neck just below the head was completely blown out. I said, "Wow, great shot!". My son admitted right away he was not aiming for the buck's neck.

[Karl Blanchard]

When the rangefinder read 50 on the nose I drew, anchored, and pulled through my shot.  Arrow arced over the yellow grass and looked perfectly perfect.  He spun and started to run but more cow sounds slowed him to an uneasy walk.  I could see my arrow hung up by the fletchings.  It was right on the crease and exactly half way up the body.  Couldn't be more perfect.....so I thought.  For 9 more hours and 3.2 miles we ran, climbed, crawled.  Had to hunker under a tree to get out of the rain and then dawn puffy's to help cut the gale force winds.  Tiny specks of blood were lost and then found again.  Finally it was hoof strikes only and then what all hunters fear, a cold trail.  

We ended up on a series of cliffs and rock slides.  In an act of desperation I climbed out onto a rock shelf between cliff bands to see if I could see him moving along the rim rock.  As I was looking down for footing I noticed a small spot of blood!  You have got to be kidding me!?!?!  Then another spot.  And another!  I move another 10 yards and I can see antler tips over the edge!

He had moved along this shelf and snuck out onto a cliff face like a damn mountain goat!  The wind was blowing 30mph+ and he was 64 yards.  Too far to shoot in this wind and I wasnt even certain I could retrieve him.  I backed out, got the guys, and found a different vantage point that put me 41 yards (30 yard shot with the cut).  I was mentally relieved at finding him but now I had a different concern. Can I retrieve him if I killed him where he stands? And if I shoot him is he going to die where he is or take a step in the wrong direction? I I'm not accustomed to wounded animals and my immense desire to end his suffering drove me to make the decision to take the shot. I stepped out above him on a rock pinnacle, leaned into the wind, and took my shot. The arrow found its mark and miraculously he did not move.  Within seconds he fell over dead.  I got very lucky as a basketball sized rock jammed in his ribs when he piled up.  This kept him from a 90ft fall!  

The retrieval is something my little brother would refer to as "interesting".  With a few attempts we got down to him, got him into pieces, and got him on to Safe ground.  Upon closer inspection I found my shot had it very low.  It entered bottom of brisket, ricocheted up, taking out the offside lung and exiting mid body.  When we got back to the truck and the spot of the shot we ranged back from where he was standing to where I shot from and it was 63 yards.  I had hit the tops of the grass that were in front of him when I ranged.  Archery is a game of inches and a small error such as an inaccurate range made for a nightmare of a day. 

 To say that I was relieved that we found him after all of that would be an understatement.  It's a sickening feeling knowing you have wounded an animal and my expectation with the sign we were following was that we would not find this elk. I'm not proud of how it all went down and it was a good reminder that just when you think you've exhausted all options, just keep searching.

[7mmfan]

The only "bad shot" that comes to mind was a mule deer I killed in the Methow a few years ago. I was sitting watching a saddle expecting animals to come from a certain direction. All of sudden, all hell breaks loose above me and here come 3 deer, 2 bucks and a doe, barreling straight down the hill at me. About 10 minutes before, a small buck had stepped into the open briefly about 200 yards away across the saddle and I had cranked my scope all the way to 12 to get a better look at him. Unfortunately I did not dial it back down when he left. The biggest buck was in the lead and stopped no more than 30' uphill from me. I swung the rifle onto him and all I could see was the tips of hairs in my scope. 12x at 10 yards is not ideal. He boogied and I had to make a decision so I found the front of his shoulder in the scope and fired as he began to run. I fired 2 more follow up shots as he ran 200 yards across the saddle into the timber and didn't appear to be hit. I sat there for a minute reflecting on what had just happened, kicked myself and got up to go find his trail and follow up. At the place of the shot, there was no blood, but there was hair. I assumed I had grazed the front of his shoulder. I followed his tracks to the edge of the timber and as I looked ahead on the trail, there he was bedded down with his head laying on the ground in front of him. He was clearly still alive and seemed to be trying to hide. I backed up, circled uphill about 30 yards and walked out until I had a good view of his neck, and finished him off.

It appears I did miss the initial shot, but one of my hail mary follow ups had found it's mark, just not where I wanted it to. The bullet had grazed the rear quarter, went through the stomach and liver and hit the offside lung. There was not a drop of blood on his trail. A guy named Todd came upon me a couple minutes later and helped me drag the buck to a better location to process him. He kept saying he couldn't understand why I was so somber, it was a great buck! And it was, I was just beside myself for the agony I knew that buck was in before I caught up to him. I'm just glad I was able to finish it quickly.

[WapitiTalk1]

While still in the Army, stationed here at JBLM, I invited a fellow NCO to come elk hunt with me down south in the Lewis GMU.  Didn’t get into much the first few days but on day three, we had finished a morning hunt and had returned to my jeep mid-afternoon to eat some food and were prepping to drive to another area for an evening hunt.  As Jason was still working on his calling skills, I told him to jump over the small cut bank, walk back in the trees 25 yards or so, and we’d do a bit of calling practice back and forth on this fine sunny SEP afternoon to pass a bit of time; it was probably in the mid-70s.  Jason let out something that sounded like a turkey being tortured.  I waited a 30 seconds or so and answered back with a nice three note bugle with a bit of chuckling on the end.  Well, off to my backside…. not more than 150 yards away in a sparsely timbered and brushy old clear cut…. a bull answered my call! I ran to where Jason was hunkered down, making more sick turkey sounds, quickly and told him “let’s go, a bull just answered me”!  Took him a bit to believe me but back to the rig we went, shoved our ½ eaten lunch spread in the back of the rig, grabbed our bows/packs, threw our long sleeved jackets on, and off we went I the direction of the answer.   We moved quickly to the edge of a somewhat open area and I dropped Jason close to several active elk trails (fresh sign everywhere).  Arrow nocked, I bugled and here the bull came, bugling several times as he moved…. I could see his antlers above the tall huckleberry brush as he moved in a circle, to get downwind of the other bull he heard (me), which brought him close to Jason but not in Jason’s shooting lanes/view.  I watched as the bull broke into the small opening at a trot and headed directly toward me!  No hanging up for this young bull, he was on a mission.  Umm, this wasn’t the plan and as I was set up with my back against a few small jack firs and nothing in front of me…. I had to stop the bull with a loud nervous bark as he was looking to run me over.  I drew, barked, and the bull slammed on the brakes not more than 15 yards from me.  The old Darton Viper launched the Easton 2216 fence post, tipped with the Wasp Cam-Loc 4 blade, directly into the bull’s chest but very low, too low.  As the arrow smacked into the bull, he wheeled and headed out back in the direction of where he came.  I quickly nocked another arrow and threw out a loud high note bugle through my tube…. Homer stopped, broadside, about 35ish yards away, and I launched another arrow.  This one hit him hard, but low in the lung area…..  Crash, crash, crash….. off he went back up through the brushy, lightly timbered area.   I marked the last spot the bull was standing, made a mental note of the direction he was heading, and backed out and sat down for a good hour and a half.  We started tracking the bull late-afternoon and quickly found ½ of a broken off arrow; I figured it was the initial shot arrow due to the lack of juice on it (just the back half/fletched portion of the arrow).  Very, very minimal blood (spots here and there) told me what I needed to know; the hit(s) were not very good.  I tracked the bull until right before nightfall, using his tracks as much or more than the minimal blood I found.  At dark, I decided to back out till morning and let the bull bed down.  Right at daylight, Jason and I were back at it.  We found the bull bedded just inside at huge wall of brush, very sick but alive.  I crawled in within 15 yards to where I could thread an arrow through the brush and put an arrow through both lungs of the bedded bull.  He jumped up, staggered a few steps, and went down for good. The first arrow shot the previous afternoon had hit too low (as suspected) and did not touch a vital.  The second arrow had hit him very, very low just clipping one lung. They are tough animals and unless your arrows find their mark into the vitals, they can live a long time if not survive.   



               

[7mmfan]

I see an elk in that picture, but where are you??? Man that face paint is the real deal!

[WSU]

7mm - I shot my first buck just like that ten or eleven. A spike blacktail with one inch horns. Lucky for me he didn’t know what was going on either. He stood up with his front feet on a stump checking me out at about ten feet. All I could see with my scope cranked to 9x was hair, so I pulled the trigger like any other ten year old would do. Hit him dead center in the chest and dropped him. Talk about dumb luck!

[WapitiTalk1]

I see an elk in that picture, but where are you??? Man that face paint is the real deal!

Ha, ya I used to love the pre-dawn face painting routine.  Nowadays, I just carry a head net/face mask with me....no more skin ripping face paint removal for me after returning to camp.   

[Alchase]

I have a great hit bad recovery,
I was Hunting elk down by Elwaco in the early 90s with my Cousin. We were about three miles down a closed road when out of the brush steps a nice 3x4 bull (4x4 with broken tine)  about 40 yards away. I can remember thinking "it can't get any better than this". I hit him with a perfectly placed 7MM round to the lungs. He does not hardly react, except to lift his near side front leg and then coughs up a good sized clot. I am getting ready to hit him again as he starts to go down leaning forward and takes two steps and crumples, right down the 30 foot waterfall coming out a culvert from under the road. He landed in a swampy bog of Devils Club, skunk cabbage, and nettles. We looked down and realized, he is 30 feet away, straight down, in a bog, and we have no rope! I knew I had a tow strap back in the truck, I asked my cousin to go back and get and anything else that can be used to reach the 30 feet, and I will try to get down to him and start cutting. I looked and debated on how to get down, finally decided to try a little washout and slide down. I made it about 5 feet picking up speed, and face planted for the rest of the slide! I was soaked, my face hurt like hell but I did not really know it was all bloody because of the mud. While standing in the bog, I start quartering. My cousin shows backup almost three hours later, with my tow rope, four tire chains, and a roll of that white cotton line that can barely hold its own weight. As he is trying to piece together enough to reach me using the cotton line to tie together the tow rope and the chains, two other hunters show up and one has a drag rope we can use. After five hours, and now getting dark, we were finally able to get the elk up on the road in five loads. I climb up to the road, and my cousin yells what the heck did you do to your face! My nose bleed pretty heavily and with all the blood from the bull, water and mud, I had not noticed my face was covered in my own blood.
I took us three trips to get every thing to the truck. The last trip me carrying the head and tenderloins, my cousin carrying the tow strap and chains, it was around 9:00 pm.