Hunting in a Windstorm

On Sunday, November 30 on the last day of hunting season, at first light I walked into a patch of bush that was a half mile wide and one mile long. My hunting partner and I were to walk into the bush from the east about two hundred yards apart and walk in a slow zigzag pattern to hopefully flush an elk, moose or deer into a 60 foot open cutline a quarter mile due east where our two other hunting partners waited in ambush. With my trusty compass in hand , I had to take a bearing that I was moving in a south south west direction to appear at the cutline. I had walked only about 100 yards into the bush when I heard a slow dull roaring whirr that sounded like a muffled jet engine. Within minutes , I was hit with a blast of wind as the windstorm hit the forest with gale force winds of 100 to 140 km per hour. The forest exploded into a series of sharp reporting sounds that at first I thought were gunshots but quickly realized the cracking sound was the snapping of tree trucks as the hurricane like gusts began bringing down trees between eighteen cm and 36 cm in diameter crashing all around me. I looked above my head and the trees that were 10 to 20 metres in height were swaying back and forth. As I turned slowly making a 360 degree turn, I heard the crack of breaking limbs and trees crashing to the forest floor in every direction. I heard a crack and quickly stepped back behind a tree as a 30 foot tree fell two feet from where I was standing showering me in falling bark, twigs and leaves. It was like being in a war zone with shells exploding all around you.
I waited for the wind to subside and when there was a brief lull, I would quickly walk fifty yards and take cover before the next wind gust came and witness the next wave of crashing tree trunks. I was in that predicament for an hour and a half. During that time, I came upon deer within 20 feet but I had no intention of shooting a deer. The deer were befuddled and did not know where to run or hide. I remember leaning up against a sturdy tree and to my surprise I could feel the tree vibrating like a drum through my jacket. I quickly looked up to see the tree swaying back and forth. The black bamber aspen was the most dangerous of the trees in the forest because their inner core becomes hollow and rotten when they mature and they were snapping like twigs. I emerged from the forest after an hour and half and feeling grateful to be alive. Mind you while I was in the forest , I never felt more alive in my life.