All this talk about uncocking a crossbow reminds me of hunting camp talk last November. I was talking to the lads about hunting accidents and thought maybe we could have a discussion here.
One of the best stores I heard (cause no one got hurt) was about a guy uncocking his crossbow. He had been hunting for the morning and did not see a thing. When he went to uncock the bow, he grabbed the string, flicked the trigger with his thumb and then started screaming "HELP ME HELP ME". My buddy was wonder what was wrong, then he realized the guy forget to take the bolt out and it was slowly going through his boot as the rope was being released. He could not hold it back anymore...
The two of them struggled to re-cock it and finally got it done. Buddy had to take his foot out of the boot; luckily the broadhead had only gone through the top of the boot slightly into the inside and not through his foot.
He was lucky it was not an ExoMax!
Anybody else have any interesting stories? I’m not looking for any tragic stores, but more like “what not to do while hunting” stories.
I don't carry a folding knife anymore because I almost took off my index finger with one 12 years ago. I had one of those folding two blade "jack knives" and had just finished cleaning two rabbits. I washed off the knife and tried to stick the longer blade into a block of wood to let the knife dry off. Both blades were open and closed on my finger when pushed on the knife. Sliced down my finger about an inch or so and right to the bone . Very stupid move, I know .
Left the hunt camp, got 7 stitches and was back in camp for dinner.
I usually set myself up for these things.....Two minutes before I did it I said to my brother "Must be my lucky day. I went out for only 10 minutes and shot two rabbits!"
At 11 am, having just installed a new modified portable Gorilla tree stand in a new location on my hunting land, it was then only appropriate to sit in it in order to test it's comfortability and to assess if the cutting of shooting lanes would be necessary.
With my knee on the foot rest of the portable stand, I pull myself up on the stand by grabbing on the an overhanging branch.
The branch broke, and a 16 foot fall followed.
I remember twisting my body in the air, pivoting in order to use my legs and hands to cushion my fall to the ground. I awoke to see a hunting partner bent over me saying:" Just stay down, just relax a moment".
I had fallen mostly on my left shoulder but that side of my head had dented the earth. One other hunting buddy had stayed frozen in place, shocked that I had even woken up.
I resumed my hunt later that afternoon and continued hunting in the days that followed but I admit, for 3 days I did not quite feel like myself. With 38 to 40 tree stands to choose from, I also add I selected the most sturdy and most commonly used ones.
I have yet to hunt that that tree stand nicknamed "The Modified"....although my pals would have prefered it to be named "The Broken Neck"
Fortunately, no broken bones....a pretty good concussion and an even stronger lesson learned.
I leave you with this:
"Deer hunting gives me such a high, I think I'm falling for it."
My wonderful wife bought me a Browning limb saw last Christmas. I was way way way up high in my climber overlooking a clear cut and needed to trim a limb. I tossed my pull up rope over the limb above me and pulled it down to where I could reach it. I was cutting away a substantial size limb and not wanting to have the weight of the cut limb in my hand I wisely held the limb above where I was cutting. Well, the awesome Browning saw cuts on the pull stroke only. Yep, the brain fart caused me to cut right into my left wrist when I sawed through the limb. It took all the paper I had with me to get the bleeding stopped. Just remember, direct pressure, elevate the wound! I did finish the hunt that day but have a blood stain on the long john sleeve to remind me of my stupidity. I was blessed that the cut was away from the blood veins on the side of my wrist. It left a nasty three saw tooth scar.
Years ago when I was a recurve shooter, I was out on the field range with my hunting partner shooting a round. At the time he had a huge handle bar mustache. We were shooting from different shooting positions. He was trying one bending at the waist and shooting around a bush when he lets out a blood curdling scream. I looked over and he was bleeding pretty badly. He had somehow twisted the end of his mustache into the string, just as he released. The bow ripped about a one ince chunk of his mustache out of his face. I know that it hurt like the Devil, but for the life of me I couldn't stop laughing. To this day, he has a small scar and a bald spot on his face if he lets his beard grow. He finally agrees that it was funny, but it took him a long time to forgive my laughing at him while he was in such pain.
QUANDO OMNI FLUNKUS MORITATI (When all else fails, Play dead)
Genesis 27:3
