Most memorable shot

[MT4XFore]

Gosh, after reading all these great stories I started thinking about what could I relate, after all, I am no great shakes at writing. Then memories came flooding back and the problem was not the ability to relate the tale, but just what tale to relate! Should I tell of my first deer with my Dad's rifle and how proud he was of me, or perhaps my kids first deer and how proud I was (am) of them. Maybe about the time I shot the hole in my shoe squirrel hunting with my Dad. /ubbthreads/images/graemlins/blush.gif Maybe my first elk, or perhaps my daughter's first elk. Oh, so many wonderful memories came flooding back, and all because you all were nice enough to share. Although this may not be THE most memorable shot, since we are where we are (LRH) I will tell this one.
I had drawn a late season anterless elk permit for the Gardiner area just North of Yellowstone. I took my son with me to act as spotter and helper (read packhorse). I have killed many cows in late season and pretty well knew how to go about being in the right place at the right time. This year was an exception however. The hunts are in two day only allotments and the first day was a bust. So on the second morning, above the Eagle Creek campground we were slogging through knee deep snow and we saw five head on the opposite ridge. After glassing them I bemoaned the fact that they were too far and getting any closer would be impossible under the conditions. Well, my son started with the "heck Dad, I can shoot 'em from here, give me the gun" routine. I knew that without knowing the distance that I shouldn't take the shot, but that danged kid just kept it up until I had HAD it!! I found a large boulder that was up out of the snow, laid my pack across it and looked at the cow in the scope. I was shooting a 7mm Rem Mag with 160gr. X-bullets and a Leupold 4.5 x 14 Vari X III on it. Even on 14 power she sure looked small. I was about to call it off when he started in again. Well that was that, I'll show him!!! I told him to spot in the binoculars and I chose a cow off to the right by herself. She was broadside facing to my right. Not knowing exactly where to hold I decided to put the point of my bottom verticle duplex just under the top of her back. The trigger broke, and when I recovered from the recoil I saw her flinch and drop her head. My son yelled, you got her, but then she turned around , took a couple steps and stood there head drooping. Now she was facing to my left, so I used the same hold and squeezed again. This time I was able to see her crumble into a heap after the shot. Well, to make this long story shorter, a post mortem revealed that my first shot had taked her through the rear hams breaking one hip and exiting the animal. The second shot went through both front shoulders and the bullet was lodged under the off-side skin. My guesstimate for hold had been accurate, but I had failed to account for a breeze that I couldn't feel where I was laying. So I had a successful end to a really ill-advised shot. I will not attempt anything like that again without knowing ALL the variables, but in my defense, all I can say is, It was all MY Son's fault!!!!! She was delicious anyway.

 

[the444shooter]

Mine is from 2001, while I was hunting for a mule deer doe to fill my B tag. I was toting my Marlin 444SS in hopes of finding a close range doe that I could drop with some 300gr Speers. A friend and I topped the ridge of this canyon and noticed two spots on the other side that looked almost like coyotes. Upon further inspection, we saw that it was a small 2 point mule deer chasing a yearling doe. They were between 800 & 900yds-- "I bet you can't hit her" said my friend in a youthful daring tone. (I was 20 & he was 21 at the time) and I looked at him and said, "give me your gun," a Sako TRG-S .308 Warbird with the magazine loaded with a factory 180gr Partition, and the rest with 165gr XLC handloads that I loaded for him. I sent the partition over her back and that got her attention. She merely looked up, and then started paying attention to the 2 point that was harassing her. I shouldered the Sako once more, and held for zero windage, but put her slightly less than halfway down the thick part of the duplex on the zeiss 3-9 conquest. At the impact, she jumped about 4 vertical feet straight up in the air, ran 20 yards and collapsed. after the 45 minutes it took to get down to her, we got up to her and found that the bullet hit EXACTLY where it should have, and took out the top of her heart and even though the exit wound was only about 1" in diameter, about 1/4 of her lung was lying outside her body. It was the only shot I've ever taken that felt "just right" and that's why I took it. It was also because I was a lot younger and didn't know about dialing for exact elevation--we'll just call it youthful indiscretion now that I understand the consequences of making a poor shot on an animal from that distance. However it was my most memorable shot, even if it wasn't the most ethical one I've ever taken.

 

[firstcoueswas80]

well, i have a new most memorable shot to post. this one happened yesterday! i shot a mountain lion at about 20 FEET and she had no idea i was there! first mountain lion i have ever seen, put a perfect stalk on her and shot her with my passed grandpas .270. on the stalk in, i asked my grandpa to help me and he was there the whole time! this shot brought a tear to my eye knowing grandpa had helped me!

 

[Jimm]

I am at a loss for words , especially adjectives /ubbthreads/images/graemlins/cool.gif

A mountain lion at 20 FEET ! Geemineez !!
I sure don't want you and Gramps hunting me /ubbthreads/images/graemlins/smile.gif Deaf as I am you could whack me at 2 " /ubbthreads/images/graemlins/laugh.gif

Thanks for the story , got any pix ?

Jim B.

 

[firstcoueswas80]

yeah, grandpa and i did well that day. his old rifle, and i know he was there watching me! we did well thats for sure!

http://www.coueswhitetail.com/forums/index.php?showtopic=2901&st=0

 

[sniper2]

Nice cat!! /ubbthreads/images/graemlins/smirk.gif

 

[rolltide]

My most memorable shot happened when I was 13. My dad took me along for a deer scouting trip with all of the guys we hunt with. After scouting around for a while, we were all sitting around talking when one of the guys made some comment about the groundhog that was waaay to far to shoot. Since this was late summer, several guys had their groundhog guns with them. One by one, everybody took a shot or two. .223s, a .222, 22-250, even my dad got in on the act with his .243. Nobody got close enough to keep the groundhog in his hole for more than a few minutes. Being young dumb and cocky, I laughed at every one of them as they missed. That came back to bit me when my dad decided to put me on the spot by reminding me that my new 25-06 was in the truck.

I got it out and looked through the scope for a long time. I didn't know how far I was shooting, but I knew for a fact that I'd never shot that far before. I could see the grass moving from left to right in front of the groundhog, so I held high and left of the hog. When I pulled the trigger, the hog was standing up facing us. He disappeared and I felt releived that I had scared him enough to make him run. My uncle said I hit him, and the rest said there was no way. One of the guys volunteered to go and check. Sure enough, he was turned inside out. I had hit him low, but he never moved after being hit.

Everybody gave me greif saying I couldn't do it again. I told them I wouldn't have to since "I got it right the first time" /ubbthreads/images/graemlins/grin.gif

Dad and I went back the next day and I shot a box of shells and couldn't connect with a milk jug. Years later, after I bought a rangefinder, we ranged it at approximately 526 yards. That was from the driveway to the tree just to the side of where the groundhog was.

I've never been able to think about that day without a smile popping up. It was pure luck, but it did get me interested in shooting long range.

Chris

 

[IceSniper]

Most of mine have been achieved with a .22 rimfire. First was when i first moved to my new house that has dams with ducks near by, at the time i never had a shotgun so i used to head shoot them while they were sitting. One day i walk up to about 70y out from the dam where i usally sit and two wood ducks make a break for it, I pulled my .22 in to my shoulder and swung the crosshairs probally 10-12" infront of the bird and fired. On the gun shot he foled up and smacked into the ground, when i had a look he had a bullet hole through the neck about 1" down from his head /ubbthreads/images/graemlins/cool.gif . I've also taken a few head shots on rabbits running full pace from 20-75y which always leaves me with a warm fuzzy feeling /ubbthreads/images/graemlins/laugh.gif .

 

[Bart B]

While driving from California to Maryland for big rifle match in 1965, I stopped at my brother's place in Kansas to pop a few prairie pups with him and his friend. With me was one of the coaches for our rifle team. We all drove out to a nearby prairie dog town and set up atop a bluff where we could see all the way across it. The near mounds were about 200 yards away and the furthest ones around 600 yards. My rifle was a heavy barreled .264 Win. Mag. with ammo holding Sierra 100-gr. leaving about 3600 fps. I had sea level zeros for 600 and 1000 yards with the metallic aperture sights on it.

We decided that I would take the first shot but my brother got to choose the target; he picked the furthest one away standing atop his mound around 600 yards away but silhouetted against the light brown dirt. We all discussed about exactly how far away it was and I decided I'd better come up a click or two on the sight to compensate for the higher altitude and approximate range. I says, ok, then slung up prone and asked my team coach to watch the mirage through his spotting scope as I watched through mine to estimage the wind correction. We compromised on the wind correction and I loaded a round then went on the gun. My coach said "Hold it; wind's coming around." I waited but kept the tiny dot of a dog centered in the smallest front aperture I had.

"Two right." says the coach and I click the Redfield International rear sight 2 quarter-minute clicks right then go back on the gun. "Right one-half bubble." says my coach so I cant the rifle to the right just enough to move the front sight's level bubble one-half the way to the right from center; this made a quarter-minute correction and I didn't have to move out of position to adjust the sights. "Shoot!" says the coach and I put more pressure on the trigger. A second or so later I glimpse the muzzle flash as the rifle moves back and up in recoil. As soon as I stop moving from recoil I dive to my spotting scope's eyepiece. My brother and his friend were watching through their spotting scopes and both were agast and mumbling something to each other.

Centered in my spotting scope's field of view is an irregular shaped pink cloud a couple feet or so in diameter.

My brother asks: "How did you do that?"

I answered: "Just like you took that record deer in Colorado a few years ago. Decent equipment, practice and planning plus a little bit of luck."

 

[roninflag]

Re: Most memorable shot \'DB BILL\"

you shot the leopard with a 375? how much did it weigh? pics? do they always use a 375 on leopard? thanks roninflag

 

[royinidaho]

Well jimm this one's for you. Not the coon dog story as that one involves no shooting. This story from my youth involves tracking and shooting but not long range.

As some may have noticed from my posts, I will accept no less than 3200 FPS muzzle velocity from a 270 Win with a 140 grain bullet and no less than 2800 FPS muzzle velocity from a 338 Win Mag with 250 grain bullets. Also note that my personal project rifle (338 Win) is being rebarreled in 338 RUM to achieve at least 2900 FPS with the 250 gr bullet. I won't even mention the rifle coming from up north one of these days.

The experience described in this story of my youth reveals the beginnings of my need for as much velocity as possible.

When I was about 15 years old I earned the opportunity to go hunting with an original White Pennsylvania long rifle. It was a beautiful curly maple stocked 36 cal flint lock. It was original in every way and was a work of art to be appreciated.

I earned the opportunity to take it hunting by delivering many hickory sticks, over a period of several years, to the rifle's owner. There were turned into cleaning rods for the collection of flint locks that were on the collector's wall. I just knew, in my youthful mind that Ol' Henny would keep his word and let me use one of his rifles one day.

I did every thing , and more, that could be expected to gain his favor. Slave labor duties included running targets, bringing wheel weights and the best of hickory for cleaning and ram rods.

One winter the day finally came. I selected the rifle I wanted to use. Of course it was the White! It was the one that I could out shoot everyone with. I knew I could get the job done with that rifle.

Under the watchful eye of the owner I loaded and primed it myself. I had to stand on a chair. The rifle had to be perfectly vertical for this operation. He would never allow us lean the rifles over. I can remember the excitement of the moment.

About 6 inches of fresh powdered snow had fallen in the night. Any tracks I would cross would be fresh. There were plenty of fox in that area of western Pennsylvania. I had spent many hours tracking them but not owning or having access to a rifle I had shot none. My hopes were high that day.

I trudged out the back door and headed for the woods. I had about a half mile to walk before there would be any opportunity of game. As I approached the woods I cut some bunny tracks but walked on. Bunnies would not be an adequate trophy for this young man this day.

About half way to the strip mines I cut some tracks that caused the heart rate to go up a bit. They might be fox! The powdered snow made it difficult to identify the track's maker.

I brought the long rifle off of my should into a two handed carry, being careful to not to let the muzzle touch the snow. I started my stalk along the tracks. The oak and maple trees were large and fairly dense, only a little underbrush was mingled with them. Tracking was good.

What wind there was, was in my favor so I stalked along at a decent pace. After about a half mile I decided that what I was tracking was a bobcat! The tracks meandered too much to be a fox in the woods. The excitement elevated.

I felt I was getting close to the cat. I slowed. I squinted into the woods ahead of me as I carefully placed my feet like I'd read in the Zane Grey books. I was in a different time.

I thought I saw movement ahead. I stalked very slowly towards the movement I thought I saw. I kept a large oak tree directly between me and the suspected quarry. The wind was still in my favor. I got to the tree and eased my head around it to take a peek. There it was! A beautiful once in a lifetime bobcat! I judged it to be about thirty yards distant. The problem was that it was crouched on a tree limb about 5 feet off the ground. It was looking directly away from me, its tail flicking this way and that. It was intent on something up ahead.

How to get a shot? I didn't want to miss this once in a lifetime opportunity. Many thoughts ran through my mind. What about the pelt? I didn't want to ruin it. A head shot would make prevent making a nice rug out of the hide. What to do?

I had to get a better position. The tree I was using for cover was alone. The closest other tree was twenty feet away with no cover between. I was getting nervous. How long would the cat stay on that limb?

I pulled my head back behind the tree. I wrapped the trigger in my jacket and set the trigger. The click was deafening. Had it spooked the cat? I sneaked a peek. The cat was still there focused on what was somewhere in front of it. At that moment I knew what to do!

From behind the tree with the trigger set, I held the long rifle vertically in front me and began to slowly ease around the tree. The cat's tail was flicking. It gave no indication that it was going to move its gaze.

The wind remained in my favor.

I very slowly eased around the tree. It seamed like a long time until I was on the other side of the tree with my back against it leaving no outline to break the tree's form. The tree was as wide as I was.

I very slowly brought the rifle to firing position. I'd decided to take the rear shot, just under the tail so as to not put any holes in the pelt. I knew I could make the shot.

I steadied the rifle. My heart was pounding. The length and weight of the rifle more than compensated for the pulse. The fine front sight was perfectly centered in the rear sight's small indent. The base of the cat's tail was flicking just about the front sight. I touched the trigger. Fah-poom! I knew the ball would find its target.

And it did! At impact, as quick as a cat can it switched direction to see what hit it in the butt. The round ball came out its mouth and I felt the ball strike the tree I was using for cover, just above my right shoulder. Had that cat been a tic quicker I would have been a gonner with a 36 cal. Round ball in the neck!

That was the very last time I shot a smoke pole. From then until this very day I have ensured that projectile velocity was sufficient to never have to relive that near death experience.

jimm's dancing chicken goes here /ubbthreads/images/graemlins/wink.gif

 

[Jimm]

You had me all the way , my hats off and heres the chicken [image]

[/image] btw just give credit where its due its really Dick's chicken ( ss7mm )

 

[WSmitty01]

Not really a shot, but the first time I took out a Florida wild boar with a 3" folding Gerber. Dog had him down by the ear and owner of the dog won't let you shoot because of the chances of hitting the dog. So you just go in, kneel on his head, and cut his throat. Testosterone rush BIG TIME!! It was a small one about 100 pounds, but beside long range which I love to do, this is as about as short a range as it gets!!