Longest drag out

The thread about hauling deer out in the Gear and Equipment sub-forum got me thinking. I’ve been hunting long enough to remember when ATV’s were rare and if you were lucky to have shot a deer or moose off the beaten path, you would have your work cut out for you to get it out of the woods.

On a moose hunt back in 1983, one of the guys shot a huge cow that died in a beaver pond. (Another guy shot a bull with a 59” rack and the cow was bigger). It was really easy the moose to shore, but we couldn’t move any further even with a block and tackle. The only way to get it back to camp was to quarter it and pack it out using poles. If I recall, we had to pack it out 3/4 of a mile to get it to a truck. We were tired donkeys at the end of the day.

We used to own 160 acres of deer bush that was located a mile in from the main road. The access was a long walk down a boggy township line. We’ve shot a few deer where the drag back to the truck was over a mile and walking down the township line was no fun.

Thankfully, we have ATV’s (and boats for moose) at our disposal so getting game out of the woods is not nearly a chore as it used to be.

Anyone want to share a story?

You said longest but i am going to interpret that to mean "hardest." I have dragged deer in some cases 3/4 mile but it was mostly flat with just the right amount of snow for easy toboggan pulling resulting in a "longest drag" but in relative terms a pretty easy pull. Hardest drag for me was a 350 lb bear solo on some unforgiving terrain - was only 200 yards but near killed me between grades and obstacles. That was followed by a 5 km solo paddle out to my truck. Was well past midnight before that bear was in the box of my truck

We did a moose that was over 30h straight getting him out for 3 of us. distance wise not that far maybe 3 miles but with swamps and ridges and atv issues it was hell
deer was in Alberta and the deer ran down into a cooly and died in some kind of thorn bush and we ended up 1/4 up the deer just to be able to get it out because we didn't have a rope long enough to reach it on the other side of the thorny stuff

We used to do the controlled hunt in wmu 80 and the swamp we hunted was a nightmare for dragging. The bush was Canada holly, shrub willow, and runty black ash. You could barely walk through it to dog the bush. It was so thick you could not drag with two people standing side to side. The place was filthy with beaver so you had to deal with hundreds of sharp punji stakes sticking up everywhere. When you heard your buddy get shooting your first thought was “please god don’t let it be a big buck!”. The drag distance was close to 3km and I remember us puking from exertion. We end up shooting a massive 13pt buck that weighs 289lb dressed at the butcher. The four of us gather at the kill site and soon realize the nightmare that is coming. Instead of 3km through the swamp, we elect to drag it 150m to an excavated drainage ditch that runs down the property line that borders a peatmoss operation. There’s about 11 inches of water, enough for one person to float the deer out by canoe. Three hours later we are back with a canoe and we almost pass out getting the buck loaded. It’s now an easy 1500m paddle out, until the Citiot who owns the peat property shows up. He starts screaming that we are on private property. We try being nice and explaining our situation, but the guy insists we cannot use the ditch to paddle out. I try the sugar approach again and pull out my aerial photo copy and the tenure map, showing him that the ditch appears to be right on the property line and there is no visible fence, nor any signs or sprayed dots indicating private land. He loses it and starts swearing up a storm calling us names I cannot repeat. My one buddy keeps a calm, quite voice and tells the guy “ Mister, we are not particularly fond at the foulness that is being uttered by your mouth. If you keep it up I’m going to be inclined to ask you to ingest the metabolic product that leaves my body from a hole that lies south of my beltline”. The guy stopped yelling and just had a confused expression on his face. I literally collapsed on the bank of the ditch, laughing so hard I was crying. Next he pulls his phone, calls the police, and starts taking pictures. He demands to know our names. My buddy who’s paddling uses his Arnie Schwartz voice and says “I’m the Party-Pooper and those two are Adolph Hitler and Josef Stalin. Short end to the story - the cop shows up two hours later when we are eating lunch, takes one look at the situation and tells the peat man not to waste his time calling again.

Quote:

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Originally Posted by Fenelon

We used to do the controlled hunt in wmu 80 and the swamp we hunted was a nightmare for dragging. The bush was Canada holly, shrub willow, and runty black ash. You could barely walk through it to dog the bush. It was so thick you could not drag with two people standing side to side. The place was filthy with beaver so you had to deal with hundreds of sharp punji stakes sticking up everywhere. When you heard your buddy get shooting your first thought was “please god don’t let it be a big buck!”. The drag distance was close to 3km and I remember us puking from exertion. We end up shooting a massive 13pt buck that weighs 289lb dressed at the butcher. The four of us gather at the kill site and soon realize the nightmare that is coming. Instead of 3km through the swamp, we elect to drag it 150m to an excavated drainage ditch that runs down the property line that borders a peatmoss operation. There’s about 11 inches of water, enough for one person to float the deer out by canoe. Three hours later we are back with a canoe and we almost pass out getting the buck loaded. It’s now an easy 1500m paddle out, until the Citiot who owns the peat property shows up. He starts screaming that we are on private property. We try being nice and explaining our situation, but the guy insists we cannot use the ditch to paddle out. I try the sugar approach again and pull out my aerial photo copy and the tenure map, showing him that the ditch appears to be right on the property line and there is no visible fence, nor any signs or sprayed dots indicating private land. He loses it and starts swearing up a storm calling us names I cannot repeat. My one buddy keeps a calm, quite voice and tells the guy “ Mister, we are not particularly fond at the foulness that is being uttered by your mouth. If you keep it up I’m going to be inclined to ask you to ingest the metabolic product that leaves my body from a hole that lies south of my beltline”. The guy stopped yelling and just had a confused expression on his face. I literally collapsed on the bank of the ditch, laughing so hard I was crying. Next he pulls his phone, calls the police, and starts taking pictures. He demands to know our names. My buddy who’s paddling uses his Arnie Schwartz voice and says “I’m the Party-Pooper and those two are Adolph Hitler and Josef Stalin. Short end to the story - the cop shows up two hours later when we are eating lunch, takes one look at the situation and tells the peat man not to waste his time calling again.

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If I was the COP turning up I would probably have started asking about peat extraction permits and so forth. LOL