I didn't say longest shot , just most memorable . Of course , they may be the same.
OK , since I started it I get to go first
My brother and I were boating along in a flooded backwater looking for a place to hunt whitetails that had been pushed up on the dry ground left ( we're talking hundreds of square miles here ) just off the main channel in the White river bottoms. If you want to locate this area do a search south of Duvalls Bluff .
The day was still and we were enjoying the mild temps ( 35 or so ) as we eased along in our flat bottom boat. I didn't have my rifle as we had decided tha t one was enough for our " sight see " .
Sun on my face , I can still see that day as if I were still there . We were gliding along in a flooded beanfield when I spotted a crow walking back and forth on a spit of dry ground that couldn't have been more than a half inch out of the water( at this point it may be best to suspend all belief , cause Roy thinks I'm a big old liar anyway [img]/ubbthreads/images/graemlins/blush.gif[/img] )
My brother is running the boat ..............I look back at him ...............he shakes his head , so I pick up his remmy .243 that has been laying in a soft case between us and push around in the chamber .
The crow is walking back and forth and I don't have a clue what the distance is and am not even thinking about it .
The boat is going about 5 mph left , the crow is standing still at about 150yds. I raise the rifle and track back to the crow .............and touch the rifle off.
It exploded !! I waited a bit , then looked back at my brother , he only shook his head !! We have never spoken of it since .
Okie doke , I told my big old lie , so ,, why should you not tell yours ?
BTW, after you do tell all I have a good one to tell at the finish .
Ill share mine...
We had been having trouble feeding calves hay from the barn. Some unwelcome guests had taken residence in there someplace, and afterward had taken to running out anybody who came inside. Those guests had a most unplesant smell, and a characteristic white stripe running down their black body. The solution came to me one day, and i told my family that whoever was up at the barn around dark to leave all the lights on, and the door open. Sitting on the porch was my parents, and my sister, myself, and my mossberg144 rifle.
Sure enough, about 20 minutes after sunset, "big momma" the largest of the skunks came swaggering out of the hay stack. Once it became apparent what I was about to do, there were a lot of protests... most of them included something about having to wear gas masks to feed for the next month.
Ignoring all complaints, I traded my glass of tea for a single round of Scoremaster 22LR ammo, hollowpointed on a swaging die, weight sorted, and rim thickness sorted.
My best ammo.
My dad followed suit, swapping tea for binoculars.
The skunk paused less than a foot outside the door, and, standing broadside, raised his nose as if to sniff a far distant flower.
The bullet crossed the intervening 68yds in short order, and the shot was still echoing across the valley as I ejected the brass, and leaned back into my chair.
My dad, peering throught the binoculars, cried "YOU MISSED!!!! HURRY!!!!" All I said was, "nope".
The skunk stood there another 3 or 4 seconds, in the same pose, and as everyone watched, slowly toppled and fell like a tall tree, cut down by a skillful woodsman. Legs out straight, stiff as a board.
A few years back a friend and I were hunting in an area that was new to us. We haven't seen deer after three days of hard hunting. Worst yet, my friend's Redfield Accu-trac mounted on his super accurate Remington Sendero got fogged-up due to rain the night before. That put him out of commission. I was carrying my first truely LRH rifle, a 1909 Argentine Mauser Douglas barreled 280 Remington loaded with 150 grain Nosler Ballistic Tip, chronographed at 2890 fps. My scope was the super-precised Simmon Pro-50 [img]/ubbthreads/images/graemlins/wink.gif[/img] equipped with bullet drop compensator. I paid for a whopping $110.00 for this Korean made scope [img]/ubbthreads/images/graemlins/smile.gif[/img] [img]/ubbthreads/images/graemlins/smile.gif[/img] [img]/ubbthreads/images/graemlins/tongue.gif[/img] from a now defunct Gander Mountain, if I remembered correctly.
The light was fading fast as me and my friend were walking back to our camp when all of the sudden I spotted the muley rising from his bedding spot, accross two canyon directly from us. My friend and I immediately assumed the prone position readying ourselves for a shot of a lifetime. I cranked the dial on my Simmon and at the same time, bracketing the deer to figure out what the distance would be. Well, I run out of turn before I could fully bracket the deer's body. Turns out my Simmon maxed out to 500 yards on a deersized target. I knew the deer was still farther away so I asked my friend to see if he can at least utilized his accu-trac even in such condition, to see if he might be able to get distance. He said he still could and the deer was 600 yards away according to the Redfield Accu-trac. With that data in mind, I dialed 500 in my Simmon BDC plus raised the horizontal crosshair of the Simmon, 12 inches high above the deer's back and move the vertical, 3/4 towards the small of the deer's back, to compensate for the wind, that my friend warned me about, and let the Nosler fly. The slapped of the bullet was very pronounced and the deer went down as if it was hit by a bolt of lightning. Turned out, the deer was hit in the neck just forward of the shoulder. We didn't get back to our camp until 12 midnight that night but we got our deer. To this day, I never told my friend that it was a hail Mary shot. He still believed that I know exactly what I was doing, knows precisely where to dialed my scope with certainty and hit the target. [img]/ubbthreads/images/graemlins/grin.gif[/img]
To achieve the maximum possible accuracy, all variables must be remove or at least minimize.
I was 12 years old. First day of small game season. First time carrying a shot gun in the field, if you can call it a shot gun. 2 1/2 inch 410 bore, single shot w/hammer. Dad and I were headed to one of his friends to chase some cotton tails. A bunch of pheasants crossed the road in front of us. We pulled over. There were others there waiting for starting time. The time came, we hit the field.
Pheasants flew every where. One went up in front of me and turned back over my head. I shot straigh up. Pheasant fell nearby and I retrieved my first bird. The sad thing is that I blew about a box of shells that day at pheasants and bunnies and got nothing more than that first rooster.
When we cleaned it we found no BBs in it. I finally skined the head. Yep! One 7 1/2 shot had entered the bottom of the head and exited the top. Guess I was a lucky kid. The great thing is as old and decreped as I am, I'm playing that video in my head as I type. Its in color too!
jimm, some time I'll tell you about my first coon dog. That's a story to top all stories [img]/ubbthreads/images/graemlins/grin.gif[/img] [img]/ubbthreads/images/graemlins/grin.gif[/img] [img]/ubbthreads/images/graemlins/grin.gif[/img]
I may be the slowest guy on the mountain . . . . but . . . . I'm on the mountain!
I'll go with a skunk one. We were hunting skunks by spotlight one night. We pulled up on a skunk, and I jumped out with my bow. Stripes put his tail up in warning and shuffled off at a cool trot. Stipes didn't shoot a bow, and so didn't realize how his presented organ made for a fine target. I got on him at about thirty yards, and tracked him for a few feet. The arrow seemed to let itself go, and stripes dropped in place as if shut off.
I cautiously aproached, and nuzzled the short circuited critter. No response, no smell. Hmm. I looked for my arrow. Upon findin it, I eyed it suspiciously. Sniff, sniff. Still no smell. I happily recovered my arrow, wiped it off with a rag, and continued on my merry way. Grit one, skunks zero.
Haachoo, achoo. Says I. Bless you, says the fellow behind the spotlight. Pretty soon my eyes start to itch. Rub rub. Now my nose starts to run. Now my lips are burning....
Holy fire! Next texas heart shot on a skunk will be with a gun!
Most memorable shot at big game, was the first succesful one. I practiced, and practiced, and practiced. I dry fired in various positions for months. I burned pounds of powder. Opening morning I spotted a buck at 250. He was trotting uphill. My knee hit the ground, the rifle came up by itself, tracked the deers shoulder by itself. The rain wet barrel belched a cloud of vapor. I couldn't see. Did I hit 'im? Whop! A slow smile spreads, and my hands start to shake a bit.
There's more. But you only asked for one, and I've already given two.... Lookin through the scope at 1k for the first time. The trigger breaks, the gun hops. I reach and lift an ear muff. A week passes on tiny feet.... Biing! A slow grin sneaks up the corners of my mouth, and keeps them there.
The wife's nephew and I had just taken his first whitetail, at the distant range of about 30 yds. We were sitting behind a weedline and beside a yopon bush. We waited the few manditory minutes before heading out to check it out. AS we stood, we noticed several other bucks off to our left crossing the pasture about 60 yds from us. They just looked as they walked unalarmed, as we walked out to his deer.
After the initial inspection I headed off to the 4 wheeler and returned with it as well as the camera. Several pics were taken of his buck as we curiously watched 4 more bucks walk across the pasture to the right of us, and another 6-8 just a bit further down, in the same manner as the first bunch. None were much better than the outside of their ears so we weren't in any way interested in shooting, but it was neat for them to all be just out there with us standing in the middle of the pasture.
About the time we got the deer up on the scooter, I noticed one at the far end of the pasture. It had a VERY wide and tall rack. THe range was a little over 400 yds, and it as well was just standing there eating along with several others. So since condiditons were about as perfect as you would ever get for a mid day shot, I pulled up the 25/06, and sat down to prepare for the shot. Running the 115gr PArtition at 3150 I knew the drop, so I cranked up my Leupold to 14 and set about getting a steady rest on the Harris. Due to the grass being about 18" tall I had to extend the legs on out and was shooting almost from a Creedmore position to keep those fine hairs on that deer. WEll during all of this time, unknown to us, a smaller buck had walked up to a position in front of the big one. With their heads down, and with getting ready for the shot we hadn't noticed this, as they looked to be all in the same positions. So at the crack of the shot there was a slap at the other end of the pasture. THe deer dropped and was still.
WE high fived as this was my longest shot ever on a deer, and it sinply dropped with no other movement. As we drove up to it on the scooter, I started getting pretty sick feeling in my stomach. We should be seeing horns by now I told Jon, he agreed. AS we got closer still no signs of horns. WEll we had to walk right up to it before the two little protursions which spouted 6 total points were visable from behind it's ears. The deer however was an old one, so at least I didn't feel bad about shooting bambi. LOL I had aimed for the shot to hit just in front of the shoulder where the neck joined the chest, and had hit right where I wanted to. The PT went in and took out the lower drop of the spine as well as both lungs and exited just in front of the paunch on the right hand side of the deer. This was one of the most memerable shots I have made for several reasons. First was the boy's experience with me and second, was the rubbing in I got from him and my daughter for getting the smallest deer of the season.
I also got a skunk in the head at 300yds with the same load, but figured that was just varmint shooting. LOL