My scariest moments, related to hunting, revolved around my first year hunting. Since it wasn't one individual event, but kind of a whole weekend thing... it's a bit of a story. I will streamline it as much as possible.
I had just turned 13, and my uncle got me into bow hunting. For the first several hunts, we were in The familiar area around my grandpa's house. We decided to take a trip to the upper lower peninsula with one of my uncle's cousins.
My fear began to run early, in fact on the drive up. I've never seen two men consume so much beer so quickly!
From the back seat, I watched the speedometer on that old 78 Grand Marquis running 120 the whole way. We did make record time.
As the excessive inebriation continued into the evening, it was decided by the "adults" to go out and shine, and that evolved into trying to get some roadside meat... hadn't they called that poaching in my hunter safety class
Fortunately they didn't get the opportunity to shoot anything, and I convinced my uncle that it would be a good opportunity for me to practice my driving... through the northern Michigan forests... at night... thank God he took me up on the offer, as I could see in my mind this 13 year old stranded in the middle of nowhere after the accident.
The next day, upon learning of where my stand location was in relation to the car, and the two adults, I instantly rejected the notion of walking that incredible distance, in the dark northern Michigan woods, by myself.
And so as I was slipping out on my way back to the car, well before last shooting light, a rustling began to approach for my right. Adrenaline flowing, and heart pounding, Arrow at the ready, I nearly messed myself when a large porcupine emerged feet in front of me! Safely making it to the car, my mind...and the shadows in the trees...got the best of me as I waited for the men to arrive.
That night back at the campsite, things did not get better. The two men decided around 9 p.m. that they were going to go "scout" for deer to hunt in the morning. I was to wait at the camp until they returned, and they walked off into the night. The next 6 hours of darkness and loneliness that ensued were some of the most terrifying I've ever experienced.
Thank God for an enormous stack of firewood, and that Appetite for Destruction cassette the cousin had brought... I had to have played Welcome to the Jungle dozens of times that night.
Time would later reveal that they had walked to the bar in the nearby town, and then staggered themselves back after close.
All in all, it was a pretty scary experience, and actually turn me off of hunting... Something I didn't take up again until my 30s.