What ya got? I'm not going first.

My dad said he was squirrel hunting one time when he was a tennager and he tripped on a root and dropped ihis 12 gauge and he said it fired and shot and flew behind him said that was the scariest day of his life and said he will never forget that day

That's a good one, Ethan. I took a young fellow hunting with me at the behest of my parents. Their friends kid. We were walking a logging road and he was behind me and must have been fiddling with the safety on his rifle. It went off. The muzzle blast parted my hair.

Left the house to go lion hunting one morning about 2:00 am. Drove north on a two lane, narrow dark road. There are steep drop offs on either side of the road periodically, and its a major travel route for 18 wheelers. I didn't really feel tired but at one point, I felt a bump, and when I opened my eyes (!), I had lightly bounced off the guard rail over in the oncoming lane. Luckily there were no oncoming cars or 18 wheelers, but if there had been, I would have been squashed like a bug.

Was checking traps behind restaurant and a small cedar had fallen down. It was dead and was pretty old. I had to step over it and as I grabbed hold of a limb it broke and I fell face first. One stab that was sticking out like a spear caught me under the arm pit with my full weight on it. I had an old carhartt jacket on or it would have punctured me and no doubt I would have bled out hanging there behind pizza hut !!! Had a bruise from my elbow all the way around almost to my waist .

When I was around 15 I was up at my cousin's house. He had a dirt bike I didn't so always got to get toted around. We rode over to his friends that also had a dirt bike. They went riding I stayed behind and hung out with his friends older sister. When they got back my cousin friend seemed mad while pointing his shotgun at me and inviting me to leave. I didn't move told him it would be a good idea to put it away before I took it away. It was testy for a quit min or two then he put it away and walked out.

Wasn't much of a threat when his sister was on my lap and between me and 85% of the gun. Other that that I have no idea how I stayed so calm and collected . Never raised or changed my tone of voice.

Around 10 i had a neighbor kid tell me his mom wanted to talk to me about something I had done I him. (Doged a sock full of sand he threw at the back of my head then picked it up as he ran off and returned it hitting him squarely in the head causing him hit and roll hard on th side walk) I stopped at the front door he tried to persuade me to come in. Something seemed off so I said no if she wants to talk to me she can right here. He said ok then produced a butcher knife and headed out the door. He lead with his knife hand coming out the door first. I kicked the door at his wrist slamming it closed on his wrist and he dropped it and I went home. He wore a brace for 8 weeks.

Lots of car wrecks and danger on the job building cell towers, smoke stacks, ect...

At least once a week back in my ole logging days.

Many moons ago ,I was about 15 or 16 and walking on a frozen river with two friends. For whatever reason, I fell through and the current took me under the ice. I held my breath till it hurt pushing up on the ice as I went and broke through. Long walk home that day.

Out trapping with a friend, I should say I was trapping he was shooting. I took a ricochet through the leg. Hit me in the left leg about mid thigh came out just above the knee cap.

Not a near death incident but the doctor really tried to scare me with what could have been.

First time I cheated death I was 6 years old, was swimming in a pool while the parents were drinking at a party sitting next to the pool, not really swimming just hanging on the edge and moving around the pool, I lost my grip and floated away from the edge where I could not reach an started sinking while looking up trying to grab something but nothing there, just watching my hands reaching up above me and sinking, was way under when I start to not see my hands any more and did see some one dive in and then felt them grab me and bring me up and out of the water and realized that one of my parents friends had seen me going down and notice my head fall forward, he dove in and grabbed me , made it through that one.

Later one, when I was 16 or so was working in construction digging basements underneath already built homes, left alone doing a side wall, no one home and the boss said to just work on the wall and shovel the diggings on the conveyor which dumped it in a big loader box on the surface, then left for checking on another job, I was digging and all of a sudden the wall gave way and buried me up to my shoulders in pea gravel sedimentary remains, ran around me like water and fouled up the conveyor and shut it off. I was frozen in that material for a couple hours until the boss came back and seen the conveyor was not working, came under the house and found me buried, I was just like one of those Eastern Island statutes with my head above the rocks which had kept on coming off from under the home, its a real wonder I made it out of that experience !!

Couple more but these two were very close calls for me !!

I've had a few but the craziest one happened a few years back. I was guiding hunters out on my trapline by myself. My first hunter had flown out and i wanted to switch camps before the next guy flew in so early one morning I loaded up the jet boat and took off upriver where I have another cabin. I had quite a load with all my gear and fuel. The river i was running is real small with a lot of tight turns. About 1/3rd of the way up there is a big log jam that I have been cutting my way through for years. When I got there everything looked clear so I motored on through. Just as i was clearing the jam, the foot on my jet bumped into a log that was under the water. I hit pretty hard and the shock knocked the hood off my motor. I quickly pulled into the bank just in time to see my hood sink right in front of the big log jam.

After tying up the boat I walked back down and sure enough I could see my hood laying on the bottom of this big hole right in front of the log jam. The water was about 8-feet deep so I cut a long pole and climbed out on the logs. My plan was to hook the hood and pull it up, but from my position I couldnt reach it. There was one log that stuck straight out over the water for about 10-feet. I decided I needed to get closer so I climbed out on that log. Everything was frosty and I took about two steps before I slipped. As soon as i lost my balance I knew i was in trouble. Anyone who has climbed around on log jams knows what its like. If you get swept under one, you dont come out. As soon as i hit the water I could feel the power. My hipwaders filled up instantly and i started to go under. Im not a good swimmer, but I used everything I had to stay on the surface. Luckily I was able to stay on top long enough for the current to push me into the logs where I was able to reach up and get a handhold on a branch and pull myself out. I got back to the boat, got some dry clothes on and had a cup of coffee to settle down. Then I got a fishing rod and put a big hook on it and got my hood. Why I didnt do that to begin with Im not sure.

After getting everything stowed away I took off upriver again. About 5-miles from the logjam there is a real shallow spot that I almost always have to pull the boat over in the late fall when Im loaded heavy. I came down off plane just at the bottom of the riffle, killed the motor and jumped out. I've done this thousands of times at this spot so it wasnt anything new. I had just grabbed the rope and made about 5-steps upriver when movement on the gravel bar caught my eye. I looked up and the first thing I saw was 4 legs sticking straight up in the air. A dead moose lay 40 yards away on the edge of the willows, all four feet sticking straight up. A big grizzly was about 30-yards out coming straight at me as hard as he could go. I can still picture it in my mind. His ears were laid back and he was coming hard. The only thing that saved me was i had my rifle laying on the seat of the boat, it was not in a case. I grabbed the rifle turned and shot. I could tell I hit him with the first shot because he staggered and turned just a bit. The second shot hit him somewhere near the shoulder but didnt knock him down. I saw blood fly out the offside though so I know I hit him. He turned then and headed for the brush. My third shot missed and he was gone. I reloaded got the boat up through the shallows and headed up to make camp. That was the wildest day Ive ever had and I was glad when it was over. I went back down the next day and looked for that bear all day but never found him. I was shooting a 375 so that tells you how tough they can be!

I was 5 me and my older brother was out playing in the snow. I got the brilliant idea to shovel snow off the pool and play on the ice. I bet I was on the ice 15 minutes and it gave way , under I went couldn't find the opening to get out luckily my brother was close by heard the splash he grabbed the splitting mall started busting ice and got to me b4 it was to late. Lol ain't been on ice since

20 years ago cutting a dead elm tree down for firewood. Rotten inside the tree twisted and fell opposite direction I was planning. I dropped the saw and ran. Tripped over the brush and the tree landed across the top of my thighs. 45 minutes later my brother in law came out to help(was supposed to be there the whole time) and found me. Had to cut the tree off me. No broken bones but bruised something fierce.

Cold weather heading our way want to go ice fishing?

Ya I had the same response when my cousin asked me that this week.

About 7 years are so i was deer hunting from an old summit climbing stand, the one that has a cable with loops at the ends and a thick black rubber hose over the cable. I climbed up about 20 feet and positioned the stand facing the direction I wanted and the seat was leaning downwards so I stood up and pulled the pin to raise it up and put the pin back in. I hunted till dark and lowered my bow down put my boots in and started down. Second time I went lower i lost a little bite on the tree so I reposition it and started down again, it let loose and I went out backwards out the stand about 16 feet . Woke up on the ground on top of my stand with the wind knocked out of me and both legs hurting. Found my glasses 10 feet away, grabbed my bow and limped out the woods. Left the stand where it was at. When I went back my stand was bent from me landing on it. I expected to see the cable broken but ot was fine. When I put the pin back in after I adjusted the seat I missed the loop. My legs were black and blue for a month.

I thought we were just talking about outdoor near death experiences.

You’ll have to hop over to the “regrets” thread to see my others.

Back in 2003 when I still lived in Alaska I was exploring some country in the Tanana flats. While running my snow machine down a small river looking at all the lynx tracks I noticed the ice was beginning to look different so I decided that I had better turn around. I got up close to the bank where I thought the shallow side would be and as I slowed to turn around I broke through. Luckily I was able to bail off without getting that wet. The water was only about 3 feet deep so my machine wasn't completely gone but was mostly submerged so no getting it running easily out there. Should have been carrying a rope winch but I wasn't so the machine had to spend the night in the water. I had to decide whether I wanted to spend the night out there and wait for help or start walking the roughly 23 miles out. I was in pretty good shape at the time so I decided to start walking out. Really wasn't to bad for the first 15 miles but then the last bit I started taking brakes by dropping to my knees. Couple times towards the end I found myself nodding off which scared me a bit, afraid that I might not wake up. I finally made it out after walking over half the day and most of the night. The whole time I was walking I was worrying about what my wife was going through and that she had let my family know I hadn't returned that evening, thinking everyone was worried to death about me. When I got home she was asleep in bed and when she woke she just asked, were you been. I couldn't believe it, not a care in the world. What i went through up there really isn't that uncommon but looking back now it probably was quite dangerous i guess, but it's actually a fond memory of mine now. I spent ten years in Alaska and wish I had never left. I was inspired earlier to trap by trapping legend Ron Long. He used to park his truck at my place of employment so he could plug it in. On some of his return trips from checking his line I would run out and help him load his gear while soaking up any information he was willing to feed me. He was quite the professional trapper and guide. I know he helped and inspired many before his passing.

Dangers on the Trapline
I have been running trap for over forty years and in that time I have had some close calls, and near misses that could have ended very badly if certain circumstances had been different.
The first near miss that I can recall when I was about twelve years old and running muskrat traps down in Marianne’s Pond about a mile and a half from my Grandparents house. After getting home from school, I put on my hipboots and went to check my sets. I had big hopes for some float sets I had put out on the southern end of the pond. I had made the V shaped floats from an article I saw in FFG, and had them attached to 8 foot long ash saplings I had cut.

When I got to the pond I could see the trap was missing from the float, and waded out to check it not paying attention to the increasing depth. I grabbed the float and pulled up the trap but it was empty! I turned to head back to shore and found I couldn’t turn; my feet had sunk in the stinking black muck at the bottom of the pond! The more I struggled the deeper my feet sank; I tried to pull my right foot up, but only drove my left foot deeper. I can say now I started to panic, as no help was available, and no one would hear me yelling where I was. Lucking I recalled reading a story about a trapper in a similar situation.

I took a deep breath and leaned toward shore feeling the shock of the cold water seeping into my clothes. I leaned over further and wriggle my legs back and forth and felt he mud slacken its grip. I held on to the tops of my boots so my feet didn’t slide out and leave the boots in the mud, I had to almost sit on the bottom and pull my left legs free before I could scramble out on to the bank. I was soaked, cold muddy and stinky from the black muck. It was darn cold and getting dark and Pops was a long way away and all up hill. Then I remember my Dad’s Friend Davy Jones lived just up the street from the pond. I emptied my boots and wrung out my shirt and jacket and started jogging towards Jones’ house. Even though it was only about a ½ mile by the time I got there my clothes were covered in ice. I started banging son the door and Davy opened it and said “What the devil happened to you boy?!!” I quickly explained my adventure to which he laughed and said mhmm a lot. Then he had me take off my jacket and gave me a blanket to wrap up in and drove me up to Pops. My grandmother made me strip out of the wet clothes and take a warm not hot shower to warm up, and then gave me dry clothes and a cup of hot homemade cocoa. To this day if I feel the bottom sucking my feet at all I move toward the bank as swiftly as I can. Lesson – if you feel yourself sinking get out of the spot as soon as possible!

I avoided calamity on the trapline for many years after nearly losing my boots in Marianne’s pond. I had the occasional fall, trip, go over boots, getting smacked in face with branches, etc. that we all suffer but nothing dangerous until I moved to Iowa.

Iowa had an open beaver season unlike the restrictive season in PA, which allowed me to trap as many beaver as I wanted within the trapping season. Now I knew beaver fur is best and primest in Late December and January. Well here in Iowa that means ICE and thick ICE. I did get a few that way but decide to wait for spring break up to try and get some more. Well the breakup was late and I went and chopped a few holes in the ice and tried that. Then it warmed up, and the ice got rotten (never go out on rotten ice), I knew the ice was going rotten and went to retrieve my traps and poles. As I walked the 30 feet out on the ice to my pole my right leg disappeared! Odd I thought it was here just a second ago, and then my body tipped sideways due to my right leg going through a particularly rotten spot in the ice. The impact of my body (I weighed about 250 pounds then) on the ice caused it to break and drop me straight through into the inky depth below, I came up spluttering and spitting our water and various curses. Luckily the hole I made in the ice was easy enough to move around in, and I was only in chest deep water. Unluckily I did not have ice spikes (spikes/nails on a string around your neck to help you claw out of the ice). I put my hands on the edge of the ice and pushed up with my feet off the bottom. I was just about to lie on the ice and slither out when the ice broke dropping me back into the water. I stood up and grabbed the edge again and tried to push myself up and it broke again. I did this the entire way to shore. I was exhausted after being soaked lugging a heavy soaked jacket and pant and breaking my way through 30 feet of rotten 8 inch ice. And to add insult to injury, I still had to go pick up my daughter at day care, how no one noticed I was soaking wet in mid-March was beyond me. Lesson learned – don’t go out on rotten ice unless you have to and if you do make sure you have some ice spikes!

A few years later I was doing some beaver control work in a very upscale neighborhood. The job was at the base of a big bluff and it was so steep the trail ran sideways down the bluff for about a good eighty yards. From the bottom of the bluff to the river was about 40 yards so, then down a six to eight foot mostly sheer bank to the river itself. The ground still had between six and ten inches of icy snow, and the river in many places was still frozen across, but this area was open. The beaver were somehow climbing the bank to feed on the trees and the landowner wanted them gone. It was tricky because even right near the bank the water was almost over the top of my hip boots. I made some bottom edge sets for beaver and put in a castor mound as well and had removed some of them when we got a huge spring warm rain storm. I rained all day and night and melted most of the snow and ice and broke the river into a raging torrent of coffee colored water and icebergs. My traps were staked and wired but I still wanted to get them out if at all possible.

My wife and our new baby drove me out to the site, she and they baby parked at the road on top of the bluff, while I headed won to try and retrieve my traps. The river looked nasty with the water about 2-3 feet higher than normal and full of slabs and chunks of ice. I had made a grappling hook out of an old drag and 20 feet of 3/32” cable to try and snag the traps and drag them to where I could reach them. After fishing for a bit with my hook I dig manage to snag out two of my 330’s. The last 330 I had wired high on the bank just in case of high water, it also had 6 foot of 3/32” cable hooked to the spring, and it was all tie doff to a 24” rerod stake I had driven into the top of the bank.

After untying the wire and pulling the coni up I noticed a place where the beaver were still coming up the bank despite the high water. I thought if I was real careful I could lower the 330 into the river where the beaver seemed to be coming up the bank. I was trying to maneuver myself down the bank to a small edge to lower the 330 on a pole. I took on step and my feet shot out from under me (it was a 1/2” of md on a still frozen bank). And I slide down the bank and off the ledge like a ride at the water park. When I resurfaced I was chest deep in the river with slabs of 8 inch ice floating by me. I was also at eh bottom of a 6-8 foot tall sheer mud and ice slickened bank. I could not go down stream as the water was deeper there, and I could not go upstream against the current when up to my chest. Panic started to set in as no one would hear my cries for help, I could not hope to climb the bank and trying to swim down to a lower bank may lead to drowning and or hypothermia as well before I even got out of the river. I had to think, so I took stock of what I had on hand. I still had the 24 inch rerod stake in my right hand and the 330 conibear with the long cable in my left hand. Finally, I figured out what to do. I switched hands and set the 330 under water against my knee, then holding onto a loop at the end of the cable threw the 330 up on top of the bank and heard is SNAP onto the brush at the top of the bank. I said a very large prayer and pulled on the cable, it seemed to hold so I wrapped my right hands in the cable and pulled myself up at least to my waist out of the water and face first into the bank. Then I took my left hand and drove the stake in as hard and as high on the bank as I could. Then I I pulled myself up using the stake, and when I got to the stake I wrapped my hand in the cable again to hold me in place against the bank and withdrew the stake and slammed it into the bank again . I did this over and over slowly inching my way up the bank until I reached the top. I was soaked, covered in mud and starting to shake from the beginnings of hypothermia. The long slow hike up the bluff back to van warmed me up at least. My wife was shocked by my condition and got me home to a warm shower and dry clothes but alas no hot cocoa. Lesson – when stuck in a dangerous situation, do not lose you head, think out your problem, as panic can lead to death. Use what you have to your advantage.

The next time I did something that could of gotten me killed, I was trapping mink with coniboxes in some culverts coming out of a marsh. I had caught a mink in a box the week before, it snowed heavily the night before I checked it this time however. I usually walked to the edge of the concrete culvert and stepped down on the ice and walked over to the cat tails that held my box. This time though I was hurrying after work, and just want to uncover my box and relure it quickly. So I just jumped from the top of the culver to the ice (about 2-3 feet) , but the ice broke as soon as I made contact with my feet and my back SLAMMED into the edge of the culvert knocking the breath out of me. I lay half in and half out of the culvert in 10 inches of soft snow on top of the ice trying to catch my breath. It took me a few seconds to realize what had happened. I realized I had been very lucky. I was wearing my big down parka as the temperature was about -10F and when my back hit the edge of the culvert the down had acted like a cushion to protect my back from the edge of the concrete. I was also lucky that I had not his my head on the concrete and been knocked out as no one would of looked for me for several hours, and by then I might of very well been a Trapper-Pop. Now I walk down and around to get to my sets no matter what, with age comes wisdom. Lesson – never hurry if you can help it and ALWAYS let someone know where you are and when you should be back, and watch your step!

Even though I have lived and learned from my mistakes, as I hope you will to if you read this I still got in s sticky spot this past season. I was setting up opening day in a small creek just down from my friends Les’ house. I looked like any other small creek I had been in around here sandy and pebbly. I made a quick set on the west side of the bridge and even though my feet sank below about 4 inches of the sand/pebbles I do not go any lower so thought nothing of if. The creek flowed about 2-8 inches over the sand/pebbles, I figured if I stayed to the shallower side while going under the bridge I would be ok. Well that did not work out so well. As I was trying to go under the bridge I went from ankles to mid-calf to knee to mid-thigh by the time I was on the other side. So here I am with about 2 inches of boot top showing above the water that looks only 4 inches deep, but is as close to quicksand as I ever want to be. Gee where have I had this feeling before? Same as Marianne’s if I try to work one leg free the other goes deeper. Now what?

Ok don’t panic, not that I was because I knew I could get out but wanted to do it and stay DRY. Use what you have available; coon bucket, pliers and lure bag. Ok pliers no good, lure bag, err nope, ahh bucket. Using the bucket I pushed it wide flat bottom into the sand in front of me and pushed down as hard as I could and felt my legs lifting free of the morass they were stuck in. I twisted the bucket free moved it about a foot and pushed down again feeling my legs get free enough to propel me toward the bank and freedom. I did not make any sets under or to the east of the bridge. Lesson – remember your previous lessons and don’t panic!

Third grade, my buddy Curt and I were the fastest crawdad catchers in all of Rock Creek. We regularly passed this one big rock in the creek and would comment that the grand daddy of all crawdads must live under that rock. So this one day we decide to catch that crawdad. Curt gets on one side and pulls while I lift, up it comes and there wasn't no crawdad but the grand daddy of all cottonmouths grinning up at me.
Did I tell you we were the fastest in all of Rock Creek. Well that day we were even faster. LOL

Another near death experience from my time living in Florida. We lived next to a lake like everyone else in Florida but this one was special, you see it was named Lake David and my name is David. To a six year old that is special.

Well enough about that. Lake David was absolutely under no uncertain terms completely off limits to us younguns, my two younger brothers and I. Lake David was where Big Sam lived. Big Sam was a gator bigger than a jon boat or so we were told. So it seemed very important that Sunday afternoon that we go tell those boys swimming in Lake David about Big Sam and why they shouldn't be swimming there. Well we found four five boys and no Big Sam and swimming did look like fun.

I still remember Dad coming down the bank and hearing leather belt clearing loops as my brothers and I scattered like a covey of quail.