Lost or Stranded/FUBAR scenarios while hunting.

[Coffeeman]

Tall timber and overcast got me soooooo turned around in unit 8 a few years ago. My wife, 2 kids 4 and 5 years old then and 10 week old puppy went for a 10 minute hike... Both my wife and I thought we were headed back to the truck but an hour and a half later we knew we were lost. We hadn’t really brought anything with us thinking we’d be gone 20 minutes tops. Finally after finding the rim of a canyon and seeing the power line in the distance and using the compass on my phone we were able to triangulate our location. Never had a pit in my stomach like that before it’s one thing when you’re on your own but when kids are involved it really ups the pucker factor. Made it back to the truck about an hour later but my kids still talk about it every time we go in the woods.

[Latestartchase]

One year on a elk hunt my wife and I being in a hurry and being over confident bail out of the truck in the ceders to head towards a ridge overlooking a valley we had scouted for elk with success but after reaching the edge were we glassed before the hunt the elk were way on the other side so after a several miles of trying to get to the elk it was coming night fall and we only had one rifle and one cell phone nothing else, not having the gps location of the truck but a very macho sense of direction I had started back to the truck cross country to save time, about four hours into the night I almost wanted to say I was lost but my wife knew I was lost five hours earlier but trudged along with me, every opening every ceded tree and every malipi rock looked the same in the dim cell phone light, finally about midnight we found a cell signal and had  talked my brother in law into the place we had parked and when he got there to flash his lights and honk his horn, in a very humbling set of events we were only half a mile away when he arrived and were able to get home by 2 am.( the next day my wife ordered a Garmin gps ) 

[AZBIG10]

1 hour ago, Latestartchase said:

One year on a elk hunt my wife and I being in a hurry and being over confident bail out of the truck in the ceders to head towards a ridge overlooking a valley we had scouted for elk with success but after reaching the edge were we glassed before the hunt the elk were way on the other side so after a several miles of trying to get to the elk it was coming night fall and we only had one rifle and one cell phone nothing else, not having the gps location of the truck but a very macho sense of direction I had started back to the truck cross country to save time, about four hours into the night I almost wanted to say I was lost but my wife knew I was lost five hours earlier but trudged along with me, every opening every ceded tree and every malipi rock looked the same in the dim cell phone light, finally about midnight we found a cell signal and had  talked my brother in law into the place we had parked and when he got there to flash his lights and honk his horn, in a very humbling set of events we were only half a mile away when he arrived and were able to get home by 2 am.( the next day my wife ordered a Garmin gps ) 

Seems so easy to get back to the truck until it’s not! Glad the brother in law came through

[Hoss50]

I had the high timber on an overcast day problem once in 19a when i was about 20. We left camp in the sun and hiked out. The clouds moved in and we got spun around. My hunting buddy and I started to get concerned. We stopped and calmed down and finally figured out a course of action and got back to camp. I have not left camp without a compass since. 

[WHT_MTNMAN]

Ive never been lost,  just "turned around" a few times.  Back in the school days I fell into this rut and was high centered for 2 days trying to get out... Notice my tent in the background. Finally had to walk a few miles to get service to call my dad.  Ive been on this site a long time.

[biglakejake]

i remember that Tercel.  well....actually the sticker on that Tercel......

lee

[Hoss50]

10 hours ago, WHT_MTNMAN said:

Ive never been lost,  just "turned around" a few times.  Back in the school days I fell into this rut and was high centered for 2 days trying to get out... Notice my tent in the background. Finally had to walk a few miles to get service to call my dad.  Ive been on this site a long time.

 

Was that in 7E? 

[NOTAGS]

11 hours ago, WHT_MTNMAN said:

Ive never been lost,  just "turned around" a few times.  Back in the school days I fell into this rut and was high centered for 2 days trying to get out... Notice my tent in the background. Finally had to walk a few miles to get service to call my dad.  Ive been on this site a long time.

I've never been lost, but my vehicle has been!

[Saguaro]

About 18 years ago I was scouting for an upcoming Deer hunt.  I was driving down a two track that was paralleling a fence.  The road came up to another fence intersection and stopped.  I got out to skirt the edge of this big Mesa to see if there was anything interesting like a road or tank or cliff rose.  I expected to only take maybe 20 minutes so I left all of my gear and water at the truck.  Didn’t even lock the doors.  That’s how quick I expected the trip to take.  About 10 minutes into it, I find a decent 4 point shed.  That usually means the other side is nearby.  I decided to look for it for a little while.  Maybe an hour into looking for the other side, I decided to go back to the truck.  I then started to see a lot of fresh sign and beds.  I then decided to follow those and check them out.  I started to spook deer here and there and decided to make it to the other end of the Mesa.  I saw all kinds of good stuff that day and was feeling good.  I knew I had to go back, so i headed back.  The truck was about 2 miles away I figured.  I started getting sick after a bit and had to stop about every 100 yards or so.  I still had my mind together and really thought I was going to cause real damage to myself like a stroke or heat exhaustion.  I made myself focus on playing it safe and stopping to rest periodically.  I finally made it to the truck and all of my water was real hot which may have been a good thing because I would have drink it real fast and it was so hot I had to drink it very slowly.  On the way out, I came up to a vehicle heading the opposite way and we got to talking.  He offered me a beer and it was the best one I ever had.  We talked for another 20 minutes and he gave me another one.  It was the second best beer I ever had.

[452b264]

Where I grew up I had a honey hole that I harvested most of my better deer in and the terrain looked the same for the most part. I only took three people out there and only one of them didnt get lost. Lost my dad for the better part of a day, we found him about 2.5 miles in the opposite direction from the truck. Another one I lost for almost a day, it was getting dark and starting to snow he was lucky since he didnt have good clothing on. I always carry a compass and take a bearing before I leave the truck, I also keep a pack with enough gear to spend a night out even if I know for sure I am only going one mile from the truck/road. 

[mbiewer]

story 1:

 last day of bull season, before my cow tag started.... Went up with my buddy to "take over" camp for  my buddy's brother who had a bull tag and had been up all week.  drove in, and parked one road... 4 adults and a kid (think he was about 10).  We hiked and crossed the first ridge and in the shallows down below there was another road with a fence line alongside it (all 3 parrallel) well when we hit the fence line the kid decided he needed to pee, so we all fanned out and  walked "straight" in to see what we might come across.  can't tell you how far we went, but it was easy walking so probably an hour.  Got a phone call...

them: "were turning around".--

Ok,  straight 180 and back the way i came.  never found the fence line again.  got another phone call...

them again : "where are you, were at the truck"...

ME: well, "im at the road where we all fanned out, but im more to the left of where  were  because i never hit the fence.".

them ok well send the rhino around to get you... (moments passed,) hes where we split apart but youre not there

Me, thats bs, i will start walking his direction, have him stay there

 (was simply of turning 90 degrees and walking down the road to where we fanned out)

found myself walking back over to we original started, on the first side of the ridge

[mbiewer]

story two, my bull hunt

deep under the ridge of unit 22. drove in, parked in a valley and parked at a t. brother went north, i went south but i had a tag along. Hiked for a ways...  then as the road curved up to cross a saddle,  seen the flash of rump and the sound of hoof beats above.  We  went to the top of the ridge. We spit up up there to see if we could catch a direction to see what we could find.  No big deal, walk this ridge, if i get blanked, turn down hill and find the jeep....  nope

no road at the bottom, so up and over the next ridge thinking maybe there was a finger i missed in between and "its in the valley of the next one" nope... found overgrown two track, and walked it out then wound up a couple of miles on fr 29 away from where i started

did my little happy dance in my head when i found decent maintained road. thinking i was heading east, i took to the road and walked. Had an additional moment when i realized none of the surroundings looked like fr 64, went around one bend and seen the shelf ridge that has the 300 road on it...finally figured out where i was

[mbiewer]

story 3... technology only helps if you know how to use it.

Got a hand me down used garmin from my brother (fitting after the first two stories)... knew the basics of using it, and that it took a truck load of batteries.

out for a quail walk one day with a buddy...  Fired up the garmin, loaded the pouches, marked the truck on the gps, turned it back off,... and walked around for a while. (as a pair, no big deal). area was a bust, so we fired the unit up, went back to the truck and drove a couple miles down the road to find a new spot. 

Same routine... mark, load, walk, .... we decided we were done for the day and fired the unit back up to work our way to the truck. were following directions to the pin, and then got to the top of the hill  to where the truck was...only to find out the pin didnt save and it was the first spot. Had to hike back on the road to the truck. 

contemplated a few times of making a stash spot with all the ammo and the shotguns to lighten the load,... since we were dang near out of water and day light to speed things up. but we figured we would never see our stuff agina...even if we dropped another pin. ha ha

 

[Outdoor Writer]

Never been lost. This incident from the 1980s is about as close as I've come to it. It's one of my LAST SHOT columns from ARIZONA HUNTER & ANGLER.

Copyright by Tony Mandile

ONE-DOG NIGHT

Thirty years have passed since my first venture into Arizona's great outdoors. During that time I've 
had both some good and bad experiences. Thankfully, most have been of the former variety. 
One experience I never had was getting lost. Oh, I had times when I was slightly "turned around," but 
none where I had absolutely no clue as to my location. Consequently, I've never spent a night away 
from my main camp unless it was intentional -- with at least a basic supply of necessities. Like most 
of us probably do, though, I frequently wondered how I'd handle it. 

My late grandfather indoctrinated me early about the perils of being unprepared if it becomes 
necessary to spend the night away from camp. So I committed myself to carrying matches, an extra 
candy bar or two and water in areas where it is scarce. Under the right circumstances a person can live
many days without food or water other than in the hot desert. So the candy and water were simply 
feel-good conveniences. But the matches seemed the most important to me.

We often read stories about people getting lost and dying. These accounts continually upset me, 
especially when the victim had spent only a night or two in the woods. I always wondered how 
someone becomes a casualty in such a short time. Yet it happens too many times every year. 
Most folks who get lost die of hypothermia, the medical name for exposure. Characterized by a rapid 
lowering of one's body temperature and uncontrollable shivering, it soon causes disorientation and a 
loss of energy. Death is the final consequence. Hypothermia frequently follows panic, a common 
occurrence when a person becomes lost. Of course, it's very disheartening because the tragedy can be 
avoided if a person keeps his head on straight.

About five years ago on a lion hunt with Joe Mitchell in the Mazatzal Wilderness Area near Rye, I 
finally found out what's it like to spend a night in the wilderness alone without any food, water or 
equipment. 

Luckily, I knew where I was all the time. But my camera, a .357 handgun, matches, a candy bar and a 
light rain jacket made up my meager supplies. About the only panic I had came with the realization of 
having only three cigarettes. I knew I had to ration them to make it through the night and part of the 
next morning.

Mitchell and I had cut a hot track early that morning and stayed on it for six hours. Eventually, that 
track crossed another set. The dogs, confused by the second track, split into two groups. So I trailed 
one bunch, while the guide followed the other. At sunset, my group of dogs were nowhere to be seen. 
I dropped off the ridge into the canyon where Mitchell had been about an hour earlier. He was gone, 
too. 

Realizing it was at least a five hour walk to camp and thinking I could make it before midnight, I 
stumbled through the darkness along the meandering trail. It was a bad decision. 

I lost the trail three different times when it crossed the stream bed, got smacked in the face by an 
unseen branch and had more than one prickly pear cactus deposit its spines in my shins. I decided 
hiking in the dark without any moonlight was not my thing.

Thoughts flowed readily, but panic was not one of them.  Instead, everything I had read or been taught
about this kind of situation came to mind. 

I began looking for a protected place on the trail with enough nearby firewood to get me through the 
night. Such a place existed only a few yards up the trail. A downed tree, though rotten and and a bit 
damp, offered plenty of  firewood, and the light from my cigarette lighter revealed enough dry 
kindling nearby to sustain the wet wood. After building a fire ring out of rocks on some level ground, 
I gathered enough small wood to get a blaze started, broke the rotten log into smaller pieces and 
stacked them outside the fire ring. As the pieces dried from the heat of the fire, I would have a 
continuous supply of larger chunks to burn. 

The warmth from the flames quickly countered the chill from the March evening. Hungry and weary 
from hiking around the up-&-down wilderness all day, I ate half of my candy bar and saved the rest 
for breakfast. I then cleared a "bed" next to the fire within easy reach of the drying wood. With my 
rolled up daypack tucked beneath my head, I snuggled up beside the now blazing fire. 

A few minutes later, a noise that sounded like something walking through dry leaves came from the 
blackness. Just as I reached for my handgun, one of Mitchell 's hounds wandered into the light of the 
fire, and I let out a sigh of relief.  

"Here, Jake," I called.

The hound moved warily toward me, then stopped ten feet away and laid down on a bed of fallen 
leaves. 

"Suit yourself," I said, thinking it was nice to have company anyway.

I tried sleeping again, but worried about Joe and what he would think. No doubt he might imagine the 
worst. Just then,  the sound of rustling leaves made me look over my shoulder. 

Jake, with head lowered, cautiously crept to where I lay, circled once and then lowered himself to the 
ground and pushed up against my back. Providing a bit of body heat for each other, my canine buddy 
and I went to sleep. 

Over the next 11 or 12 hours, I woke often to rekindle the flames with a fresh supply of the dead tree. 
And each time, I lay back down, Jake wiggled his body closer to mine.  

The next morning, after a five-hour, uphill hike, Jake  and I  reached the main road. I immediately 
heard  the whine of an ATV. As the three-wheeler came around a bend, the driver spotted me and 
stopped. 

"Are you Tony?" he asked.

"Yes."

He then told me he was Mitchell’s dad and had arrived the previous night. "Joe called me and said
you might be lost. He drove down to Rye this morning because he thought you might come out that way. 

Did you have a bad night?

"Well, I could use a cigarette and a sandwich. But other than that, I'm fine. I spent the night with a 
warm fire in front of me and a warm dog behind me."

The man smiled. "Oh, you had a one-dog night, huh?"
                      ----- 30 -----

 

[AZBIG10]

56 minutes ago, Outdoor Writer said:

Never been lost. This incident from the 1980s is about as close as I've come to it. It's one of my LAST SHOT columns from ARIZONA HUNTERS & ANGLERS.

Copyright by Tony Mandile

ONE-DOG NIGHT

Thirty years have passed since my first venture into Arizona's great outdoors. During that time I've 
had both some good and bad experiences. Thankfully, most have been of the former variety. 
One experience I never had was getting lost. Oh, I had times when I was slightly "turned around," but 
none where I had absolutely no clue as to my location. Consequently, I've never spent a night away 
from my main camp unless it was intentional -- with at least a basic supply of necessities. Like most 
of us probably do, though, I frequently wondered how I'd handle it. 

My late grandfather indoctrinated me early about the perils of being unprepared if it becomes 
necessary to spend the night away from camp. So I committed myself to carrying matches, an extra 
candy bar or two and water in areas where it is scarce. Under the right circumstances a person can live
many days without food or water other than in the hot desert. So the candy and water were simply 
feel-good conveniences. But the matches seemed the most important to me.

We often read stories about people getting lost and dying. These accounts continually upset me, 
especially when the victim had spent only a night or two in the woods. I always wondered how 
someone becomes a casualty in such a short time. Yet it happens too many times every year. 
Most folks who get lost die of hypothermia, the medical name for exposure. Characterized by a rapid 
lowering of one's body temperature and uncontrollable shivering, it soon causes disorientation and a 
loss of energy. Death is the final consequence. Hypothermia frequently follows panic, a common 
occurrence when a person becomes lost. Of course, it's very disheartening because the tragedy can be 
avoided if a person keeps his head on straight.

About five years ago on a lion hunt with Joe Mitchell in the Mazatzal Wilderness Area near Rye, I 
finally found out what's it like to spend a night in the wilderness alone without any food, water or 
equipment. 

Luckily, I knew where I was all the time. But my camera, a .357 handgun, matches, a candy bar and a 
light rain jacket made up my meager supplies. About the only panic I had came with the realization of 
having only three cigarettes. I knew I had to ration them to make it through the night and part of the 
next morning.

Mitchell and I had cut a hot track early that morning and stayed on it for six hours. Eventually, that 
track crossed another set. The dogs, confused by the second track, split into two groups. So I trailed 
one bunch, while the guide followed the other. At sunset, my group of dogs were nowhere to be seen. 
I dropped off the ridge into the canyon where Mitchell had been about an hour earlier. He was gone, 
too. 

Realizing it was at least a five hour walk to camp and thinking I could make it before midnight, I 
stumbled through the darkness along the meandering trail. It was a bad decision. 

I lost the trail three different times when it crossed the stream bed, got smacked in the face by an 
unseen branch and had more than one prickly pear cactus deposit its spines in my shins. I decided 
hiking in the dark without any moonlight was not my thing.

Thoughts flowed readily, but panic was not one of them.  Instead, everything I had read or been taught
about this kind of situation came to mind. 

I began looking for a protected place on the trail with enough nearby firewood to get me through the 
night. Such a place existed only a few yards up the trail. A downed tree, though rotten and and a bit 
damp, offered plenty of  firewood, and the light from my cigarette lighter revealed enough dry 
kindling nearby to sustain the wet wood. After building a fire ring out of rocks on some level ground, 
I gathered enough small wood to get a blaze started, broke the rotten log into smaller pieces and 
stacked them outside the fire ring. As the pieces dried from the heat of the fire, I would have a 
continuous supply of larger chunks to burn. 

The warmth from the flames quickly countered the chill from the March evening. Hungry and weary 
from hiking around the up-&-down wilderness all day, I ate half of my candy bar and saved the rest 
for breakfast. I then cleared a "bed" next to the fire within easy reach of the drying wood. With my 
rolled up daypack tucked beneath my head, I snuggled up beside the now blazing fire. 

A few minutes later, a noise that sounded like something walking through dry leaves came from the 
blackness. Just as I reached for my handgun, one of Mitchell 's hounds wandered into the light of the 
fire, and I let out a sigh of relief.  

"Here, Jake," I called.

The hound moved warily toward me, then stopped ten feet away and laid down on a bed of fallen 
leaves. 

"Suit yourself," I said, thinking it was nice to have company anyway.

I tried sleeping again, but worried about Joe and what he would think. No doubt he might imagine the 
worst. Just then,  the sound of rustling leaves made me look over my shoulder. 

Jake, with head lowered, cautiously crept to where I lay, circled once and then lowered himself to the 
ground and pushed up against my back. Providing a bit of body heat for each other, my canine buddy 
and I went to sleep. 

Over the next 11 or 12 hours, I woke often to rekindle the flames with a fresh supply of the dead tree. 
And each time, I lay back down, Jake wiggled his body closer to mine.  

The next morning, after a five-hour, uphill hike, Jake  and I  reached the main road. I immediately 
heard  the whine of an ATV. As the three-wheeler came around a bend, the driver spotted me and 
stopped. 

"Are you Tony?" he asked.

"Yes."

He then told me he was Mitchell’s dad and had arrived the previous night. "Joe called me and said
you might be lost. He drove down to Rye this morning because he thought you might come out that way. 

Did you have a bad night?

"Well, I could use a cigarette and a sandwich. But other than that, I'm fine. I spent the night with a 
warm fire in front of me and a warm dog behind me."

The man smiled. "Oh, you had a one-dog night, huh?"
                      ----- 30 -----

 

Fantastic!