Worst Drag EVER

[squeeze2drop]

Hey fellas just curious what your worst deer drag was like? What made it so bad? A few years ago I shot one at the bottom of a canyon and it was pretty steep and rocky, THEN once we got it to the top, we had to drag it across the rocks and sagebrush a good 400 yds, makes me think twice before I pull the trigger haha

[JackOfAllTrades]

You have no friggen Idea!   Not a drag. The terrain was way too terrible for a drag.

Buddy left me at lunch time.. We were a few miles in on game trails. He went left, I went right. Should have been about a six mile swing/loop around this range back to camp give or take for each of us. I didn't know it, but about an hour after we left each other he dumps a nice buck about four miles from a road.

Hunting speed, that six mile trek put me at my truck at dusk. I waited near an hour there for him. No show, so I headed back to camp which was still another four miles driving. I get to the camper we pulled off the truck and started some dinner. As I stepped out the door with a slice of pizza in my hand and a beer, I noticed that his truck was gone... Duh! So I start lookin for a note. Duh! Right on the table. I didn't even see it as I tossed my day pack on the table when I climbed in. "The road that the big green military tent is on with the four guys. Two miles down, you'll see my truck. Follow the ribbons west from my truck. Gonna need to pack this one out in pieces."

Hell, I didn't make it to his truck until 10:30pm. I found a ribbon west of his truck, took a compass bearing. Found another ribbon. Adjusted bearing. Never found one more ribbon. It starts pissin rain. Steady on course for a half hour. Pulled out my 44 mag. Bang!.. No return fire. Kept going for another 30 minutes or so and once on top of a rise, Bang!. Nothin. Kept going for a while. Rain stopped. Got on another rise. Blasted a couple from the 44 mag again. 'Pop, pop pop' to my right from his 1911. I headed that way another hundred yards or so over a couple little draws. Biggest bodied buck I've ever seen. I actually said holy crap or something to that affect, as I didn't get good view of the rump and hadn't seen antler yet, I thought he dropped a Cow Elk.

We didn't bone it out. Just quartered and head/hide/backstrap two trips each.

We were exhausted that night. No early hunt in the morning for me. Oh.. then I had to rebuild his Chevy Luv carburator before he could leave camp to head for home.

Worst haul-out yet! I've packed animals out in pieces before, but that one was a pain in the arse!

Oh.. BEST drag out?  Dropped a good sized spike blacktail down a ravine right next to a road. Paracute cord on the winch brought him right up to the road edge. We swung him up on the tailgate and went home. We'd already broke camp on the last day of the season.

-Steve

[halflife65]

Not a drag but a pack out.  This was when I was young, dumb, should've known better, had crappy equipment, etc.

On the last day of deer season WAY the hell out and gone in the Little Naches unit by myself, I shoot this sort of small buck.  This was probably around 96 or 97 - I was just out of school, had no money, wearing my all cotton outfit (I'd highly recommend this if you want to die) and warm from walking down in those steep canyons.  It poured rain all day and I was soaking wet.  I ended up shooting this buck and wanted to get from the bottom of this canyon I was in to the top, where there was this old abandoned trail.  I picked the deer up on my shoulders and made it about 50 feet - not going to work with the whole deer.  I had a cheesy backpack you'd use to put school books in, so boning it out and putting it in there was a no go. So I cut the deer in half and started carrying half at a time up this hill - leapfrogging every few hundred yards so that I wouldn't have to go back too far to get the other half. 

At some point up the hill, the rain turned to snow - like blizzard conditions.  I got cold, even carrying this deer up the hill - I should've been sweating my butt off so I started to get a little worried.  I finally got to the top and it got dark with still blizzard conditions.  I don't think it was that cold, just barely cold enough to snow and start to stick - I was just soaking wet.  I had a flashlight (didn't own a headlamp at the time), so I was carrying the light in one hand, the rifle in the other, balancing half a deer at a time on my back and trying to negotiate an abandoned trail, which was really hard to follow in the dark and snow.  I knew the direction back but getting off the trail was really hard walking through blowdown, brush and crap, so I wanted to follow it as best as I could.  I was getting really cold at this point.

So, as I walked along, the front lens of my flashlight fell off and the bulb popped out.  I mean, I couldn't see my hand in front of my face and I didn't have an extra.  So, I ended up crawling around on my hands and knees feeling in the couple inches of snow and actually found the bulb.  I never did find the lens but I could use my finger to hold the bulb in place and the light would work.

I ended up stashing the deer and just taking off down the trail - really shaking hard and soaking wet.  It was still a couple miles out, but I was almost running trying to get warm.  I got to my pickup and had the heat all the way on and just couldn't get warm, so I went down to those cabins in Cliffdell - I got there about 9 or so, I think.  I walked into the front office and, mercifully, someone was actually there.  I was soaked and covered in blood from the deer on my shoulders and must've looked really bad because the guy behind the counter was concerned about me.  I got a cabin and bought a six pack, took a shower, opened a beer, sat back on a pillow and woke up in the morning with the beer in my hand - I didn't even get one drink out of it.

Anyway, I had caulked (cork) boots in the truck, so I put on my dry clothes, my corks and a packboard and went back out, boned out the deer, put it on the packboard and walked out - really uneventful at that point.

Anyway, almost dying taught me all of the lessons that I already knew about going prepared plus one more - It CAN happen to me.

[PolarBear]

Over 12 miles out of Clearwater.  Just myself a mountain bike and a bull elk.  It took me 2 days and 4 trips.  It wasn't a drag but I had to walk the bike with 1/4 of an elk on it.  My worst "drag" was 6-7 miles with a big whitie through a foot of snow, brush, a huge spruce thicket and over several steep ridges across country without a single trail.  I arrowed that buck right before dark and had him back to my truck  just as it was getting day light the next morning.  My ass was beat!  I got to my rig, threw the buck in the back and fell asleep for 6 hours before heading back to camp.  Luckily it was in the teens and the buck cooled out just fine.  What sucked is I had to go back in to get my treestand.

[jeepasaurusrex]

Dad shot a nice fat 2pt up out of North Bend at 8:45am. We were about a mile off the end of the road. We could see a landing at the bottom of a clear cut down hill and to the left of us about a 1/2 mile. There was about 4" of snow on the ground. We decide to drop down the hill into the timber where it would hopefully open up, travel through the timber to the left and to the landing. Dad was pulling the buck down hill with a short rope attached when it got hung up. It suddenly broke loose and came sliding down the hill. It hits Dad and they both go tumbling. Dad lands on a stump and breaks two ribs. Our friend Dale is with us, so he starts pulling the buck. It ends up coming down the hill and takes his legs out, almost breaking one leg. I am 9yrs old at this point and there is no way I am pulling this buck. We finally make it to the timber and it's a jungle of devil's clubs, salmon berries, etc. We go in deeper hoping it will open up, no luck. We hit the creek in the bottom and float the deer along with us until we reach a spot where we cannot go any further and we end up thigh deep in the water with the deer. We make it down stream, but overshoot the landing by about a 1/4 mile. At this point, I have hypothermia, Dad's ribs are busted, and Dale's legs are killing him. Were a sad bunch. By the time we make it back to the Jeep, its all we can do it put it up on the cowling. I strip down in the back seat and get into a sleeping bag. Its 3:30pm.

Best damn deer we ever ate.  

[ICEMAN]

Isn't Hunting Fun!?   

[woodman]

Shot one in a deep canyon from the top of it a few years ago. When it hit it, my hunting partner just said o-$hit. It took us hours to get it out. It was not the distance, but the steep climb down and the haul up out of there. My hip hurt for several weeks and I had to sleep in my recliner because I could not lay down and not be in pain. When hunting, I have noticed that my brain and my trigger finger are not always on the same page. Where common sense says wait, my trigger finger says we can do this.

[BLKBEARKLR]

Never drug a deer, have always packed them out.

But my worst drag ever on an animal was a caribou. A friend and I were hunting in Alaska around the Tok area. Was in January on a registration hunt. It was about 25 below zero. We drove all up and down the road trying to find some caribou passing through. Well no luck with that. So we found a snow mobile trail heading off on the right side and in we went. About 2 miles in, we could see some caribou in the tree line so we laid down and watched them for about 45 minutes. You could only shoot males and they had no horns so you had to watch for the willies on them. We both got one picked out and at same time shot and dropped two caribou. Got over to them gutted them out. And then tied roopes to one dragged it for about 500 feet came back and got the other one. We kept flipflopping the caribou until I looked over and noticed there was slack in my buddies rope. That is when I figures out his behind was slacking when we were pulling together. So decided the best course of action was to pull them seperately. So we started doing that. A 250-275 pound animal across four feet of snow was no fun. About a mile into the pull is when the wolves started fricken howling. So we kind of knew we were probably not doing the right thing. Anyways kept puling them until I got to the road I was about 500 yards in front of Danny. I was in the ditch getting my breath back when this old time pulled up and jumped out of his truck to make sure I was ok. I was other than sweating my butt off and dehydrated. So he gave me a hand we got the caribou in the truck and then I waited for Danny to get there. He got there got caribou in the truck . And that is when the real adventure began. Hunting in Alaska in never just hunting it is always a survival/adventure but that is another story. So my worst drag ever was a fricken caribou in Alaska at 25 below zero through 4 feet of snow. I told myself from that day on no matter what I kill if I can't see the truck it gets quartered and packed out and I have yet to drag anything to the truck.

Joe

[Wea300mag]

Good stories and great topic:

My worst was helping a buddy get a deer out in Montana. I already had my deer and was hanging out in camp when he arrived at noon to say he had a deer down. He already had a plan to recover it and it would be easiest to drag it(he said) . There was a decent trail system in this area but the one he figured we would walk in on ended up being about 4-1/2 miles to get to the deer. We start dragging and after about 2 hours it's starts getting dark and we hit another trail. I was familiar with this trail and figured we had about 2-1/2 miles to get to camp. I was fed up with dragging so I told him were were going to go get the frames and walk this thing out on the trail in quarters. When we got back to camp to retrieve the frames it was about 10pm so we decided to get the deer first thing the next morning and we did just that. The bottom line is we walked about 14 miles total over a full 24 hours when we should have just took the frames in on the "correct" trail the first trip and saved half the walk and half a day.

[boneaddict]

No such thing as a drag where I hunt.   Very cool stories and topic.   I've had some death marches thats for sure.  At the end sometimes I wonder why I do it, then I set the pack on the tailgate with the last load and it almost feels like you can float.  Then I remember why I do it. Packing moose has been the worst though.  Try to refrain from shooting a moose 9 miles from the truck.  Thats A LOT of work.

[Wanttohuntmore]

I've been lucky with the moose pack outs, all within 200 yards of a road!  Worst deer drag would be on the lines of maybe 300 yards up a clearcut.  I usually bone all the animals out.  My archery deer 2009 was in 9 miles.  I wouldn't call it bad though, for some reason I had adrenaline going that whole day until I got into the truck, then the headaches started!  Worst packout was a boned out 5x5 elk, in 9 miles.  The last 2 miles were across a DEEP canyon, in blowdowns.  My dad, and other hunting partner Dan and I took thirds of the elk, basically all we could put in the packs, the rest we carried in sacks.  I decided to go down to the bottom of the canyon, and rather than going straight up to our camp, I went up the canyon creek, then angled back (adding miles, but less steep).  The day started off about 70 degrees, then turned to snow.  By time I met my dad and Dan, the camp was covered in 14" of snow, tent collapsed, and it was  just getting dark.  This was after packing for about 6 hrs, and we were still 7 miles from the truck.  So we broke camp (afraid the truck would be buried from this storm), and headed out with our game carts, a whole elk, and a camp, with about 4 days left of MRE's which weigh a ton!  We got to the truck at 7am, and the snow had stopped.  We ate a couple packages of oreos, and drank milk like no tomorrow, then crashed for 4 hrs, got up and road hunted the rest of the day.  There's only a few times in my life I thought I would die, that was one of them.  Coming out of the canyon, I ran out of water, could only walk about 70 feet before I'd have to catch my breath, was hot, yet freezing from the snow, and thirsty.  i found a creek, put some water in the canteen, put in my iodine tablets, waited 30 min, went to take a drink and they went down like pills, they had not dissolved!  Good times!  I still hunt this way, but am really cautious with snow levels and where I park.

[coachcw]

Great stories guys . I've always worried about the killing not the packing and it's put me in some bad spots for sure . Kinda has turned into a joke between my Buddies and I. elk two canyons one elk fence and a river till 3 am. once I left my house at midnight and drove to clipchuck trail head near mazma . Hiked about five miles up the steep horse trail . shoot a buck on top . I was prepaired to bone it out but figured hell it was down hill huge misstake off cliffs and trough wind fall I got back to my truck at 1pm . so tired I couldn't load the deer. So a tree hugger drove by and helped me lift it in the truck . that was torture no doubt. I'll say though It's great to have a good group of buddies to help pack to me thats where the memories are made . Cant wait for the burn this year !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!1

[STIKNSTRINGBOW]

A friend drew a goat permit up in the Alpine unit back in 1984.
We had hiked in and set up camp about 6 miles in, and hunted from there.
After seeing a bunch of goats up on a ridge, we climbed to the top, only to find beds and tracks.
We decided to get up on top before daylight the next morning, so after a short nights sleep we climbed up on top, and sat down watching both sides of the ridge as the sun came up.
Next thing I know, I hear him shoot !
As I cleared the top of the ridge to see his side, I see a goat flopping over and over on its way down a steep shale slope, so without thinking, I slid down and grabbed onto a leg to stop it's descent.
After sliding down further, I was able to grab onto a small tree to stop us both from sliding further, and saw that we were about to go over a VERY long drop !   
My partner was standing on top looking down, and I yelled at him to get a rope out of my pack, tie it to a tree and throw it down.
After he did that, I tied the rope to the goat, and used it to climb up to top.
We tried to pull the goat up, but it was too heavy for us, and kept hanging up on rocks.
I used the rope to get down to it, and gutted it to "lighten the load", but it still was to cumbersome to pull up off of the damn slide.
So I got the game-bags out and boned it right were it was, with both of us tied to the side of that hill.
I lost the heart/liver with the rest of the entrails, as I wasn't quick (or smart) enough to grab them before they slid down and off into space...
after getting the meat and hide in a more manageable condition, we pulled it off of there to top of ridge, got a long piece of wood and suspended the load between us to carry to camp.
About half way to camp, he suggested taking a "short-cut"    so we could make camp before dark (where did the day go ?)
Unfortunately this turned into another "scramble" down a steep rocky cliff area, and we had to lower the meat/hide by rope, and climb down.
We eventually made it back to camp, and had tenderloins over the fire for dinner before sleep.
The pack out to the trailhead was relatively uneventful, other than my trip, stumble, run, fall, due to the extra weight in my pack, but that is a different story.....

[steen]

Great stories,  Looking forward to a goat hunt but wil be very carefuly where I shoot it.  Never had an extremely hard drag but they were all memorable and with good help it was doeable.  It was fun watching my daughter drag her doe straight down the hill 70% of the way herself.  Thankgoodness for gravity.

[DOUBLELUNG]

From 1986 to November 15, 2007, I never worried about where the critter was, and as a result had some crazy 2-3 day packouts.  Since then, health issues (heart) have fundamentally changed how I hunt, and I depend on assistance or hunting close and easy.