I Know This Is LRH... But What Is The Shortest Distance You Have Taken A Live Target?

Not my Story but theres a well known fellow that lives 45 mins from me that has spent his life in the bush hunting and trapping and he has a rifle with teeth marks from a grizzly on his stock from having his gun down it's throat when attacked.
I've lived here for over 30 years and only heard the story about five years ago.
 
Not my Story but theres a well known fellow that lives 45 mins from me that has spent his life in the bush hunting and trapping and he has a rifle with teeth marks from a grizzly on his stock from having his gun down it's throat when attacked.
I've lived here for over 30 years and only heard the story about five years ago.
No matter the caliber or the condition that rifle & stock should be valuable to someone....whether as a conservation piece or in a museum!
 
Not my Story but theres a well known fellow that lives 45 mins from me that has spent his life in the bush hunting and trapping and he has a rifle with teeth marks from a grizzly on his stock from having his gun down it's throat when attacked.
I've lived here for over 30 years and only heard the story about five years ago.
You need to visit that guy and get that story first hand!! Then report back.😬
 
I shot a boar hog at about 2 steps away, so maybe 6 or 7 feet, with my bow. He was literally coming right at me but I don't think he ever saw me. I thought eventually he would and turn one way or the other but he never did. I finally just let it go and hit him right between the ears. He only took one step and let out a very loud high pitched scream before he stopped moving. That's a tough shot when your closest pin is twenty yards.

With a firearm it was about five yards on a doe with my Benelli SBE and rifled slugs. She never twitched, just boom dead!
 
Bowfishing spawning carp in spring flooded creeks at mere feet, canoe or wading. Depending where you hit, the response was sometimes explosive! Those were the days:)
 
Many years ago I used to travel to West Virginia and deer hunt during the week of Thanksgiving. It was a big event for all of us. Two younger brothers and Dad.

Dad figured out that hunting the right of ways (fire breaks) was much easier and productive than trampling around on cornflakes. The deer would either come out to feed or sneak across the ROW.

Truth be told I went to sit with Dad and we'd talk about previous hunts, "argued" about rifles and calibers, . I'd bet I "loaned" Dad a dozen or so rifles to test. He never had to buy a rifle from about the time I was 30 or so.

Dad would sit on the right of ways all day long. It's difficult to do. On one of those trips we'd been sitting for a good four, maybe 5 hours. Going out of my mind, I told Dad I needed to go get a coke and check a tire on my truck. I had parked over the "heel" and down a ROW right next to some trees. I finally decided to return after a successful tire check and soft drink grab. Just as I crested the "heel" I heard a shot directly in front of me. I knew it was Dad, just couldn't see him or any dead deer. I sneaked down the hill and stood behind him and asked him what that weird smell was. He said "burning hair". I said well I don't see any dead animals and you pate isn't smoking so what was it?

He said he shot an 8pt. I laughed and said yeah sure you did. Where is it? He said it was down there and pointed down the "heel". Still standing, I used the binoculars and couldn't see a **** thing. I asked him again and he said right there and pointed with his wrinkled index finger. Since I couldn't see anything I walked past Dad and **** near took a tumble. The grass was damp and slippery. The deer was about ten feet in front of him. It had come out from the woods on Dad's right and was slowly walking on a little narrow trail, looking downhill. All Dad could see was about 2/3s of the deer. He had a .280 that he swindled from me. Said he aimed for hair and jerked the trigger.

The buck was laid out with a small hole through him. I could still smell the burnt hair. I gave him the obligatory "very nice!" and started the clean up duty. Dad said he'd handle it and he narrated the process. "First you cut off the potatoes and deerhood, then you carefully cut the hair and skin to expose the makings of a gut pile. You do this and that, carefully cut out the bladder and fling it behind you. He launched it in a backward motion, however, his release was premature and it landed about five feet behind him with a splattering sound. It took awhile to get the urine smell out of his now soaked, barely haired noggin."

I couldn't officially laugh until my brother's arrived, then all hell broke loose. I'm sure Mr. Robinson down the "heel" thought the nerviss hospital had lost some patients.

We always had fun and each trip something of note would happen. Maybe I'll post about the sandwich incident sometime.
 
I was hunting in Nev. a great many years ago. Strong wind to my face and the Muley Doe was facing the same way. I walked up to her butt and touch it with my rifle barrel. Did she ever jump. Had good🤣😂😅. Another time bow hunting in Montana. I was doing a short stand hunt in the ground calling elk in. Had another Muley doe walk to a few feet of me the turned and went behind me. She bedded down behind me about 10' away, looking at my cow elk decoy that I had stood up. I quite calling. About 20 minutes or so, my partner came up from where he was. Spooked my Doe, and she ran off. My friend ask me what I was doing with that doe behind me. I complained he spooked my live decoy off.😁🤣
For the life of me I couldn't figure out why the doe didn't smell me. The wind was blowing straight from me to her.
 

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