In december 2010, i just graduated from bootcamp. I shot marksman. I didn't do well at all. A friend who graduated 2 cycles before me bought a 7mm rem mag. I "wanted to be a sniper" one day and really wanted to shoot it. It was a light weight rem 700. I took one shot in the seated position because i sucked in the prone without a bipod. I didn't know what recoil to expect. I had only shot 5.56 from an m16A2 at that point. That thing knocked me on my ass. I fell over and got back up and looked through the scope and to my surprise i hit the 2in dot at 100 yards right in the center. From there on out i was hooked on bolt guns. 6yrs later I got into PRS and the rest is history.
The Shot You’ll Never Forget Giveaway - Enter To Win A Barrel From Rifle Barrel Blanks!
- Thread starter alexj-12
- Start date
I'm gonna say my most "memorable" is the earliest shooting, because it was my entry into the sport. Having come from a family of hunters extending back to the 1700's of Virginia, to Kentucky, and then to New Orleans ("Sportsman's Paradise" state), I was given a Crossman 740 BB/pellet gun when I was about 12 or 13. We had just moved to rural Pennsylvania in the Fox Chapel region, and my neighbor friend also had the same gun. Being competitive young men, we set to competing with those old wooden stocked airguns, which were terrific for a young teen.
He had a big apple tree out in his backyard, and we got good enough that the competition involved shooting, not the apples, but the stems of the apples, with the winner downing an apple first, like some combination of Daniel Boone and William Tell in our imaginations. That was great fun, and one of the consequences of honing our stem shooting was of course occasionally hitting the apple itself.
The sweetness of the pierced apple drew the attention of hornets, as I recall. These hornets would dig into the bb hole to forage for food with some reliability. Boys being boys, we hated hornets with a passion, and the only good hornet was a dead hornet in our minds. Very un-Christian frame of mind, perhaps, but those were the facts. So naturally, the competition then evolved to striking the butt's of those hornets as they dug into the apples. Their butt was about the size of a BB, so it was a perfect target. And we became quite the proficient hornet hunters.
Those days still stick in my mind as quite the bucolic upbringing that I enjoyed thanks to my Dad's thoughtfulness for us.
As a an epilogue to that story, when I later went to summer camp in Maine, at Camp Belgrade I believe, they had quite the junior NRA marksmen program. I started from the bottom of the medaling, and gradually worked my way up to Distinguished Expert, shooting their Anschutz 22's with iron sights. No one had ever done that in one summer, at that camp at least, and I was only about 14 at the time. So they decided I would be good to pair up with an older camper in a two man team for the national summer camp competition. The older kid was probably 17 or so, so much more mature and qualified to compete, though I never did meet him. Separately, we shot prone, kneel, and standing, and I was super obsessive about pulling the trigger at the correct time, with nothing less than perfection as my ambition. At the end of the summer, those targets were sent into the national office where they compiled all the results.
I soon forgot about the competition altogether as we had an abrupt change of living conditions, with my Dad getting divorced and us moving to Chicago. Years later, my Dad said one day, sort of nonchalantly, that the owner of the camp had written him and told him we had in fact won the national completion in that two man team class. I was quite shocked. So there's another memory that "stemmed" from my earlier hornet safari's.
He had a big apple tree out in his backyard, and we got good enough that the competition involved shooting, not the apples, but the stems of the apples, with the winner downing an apple first, like some combination of Daniel Boone and William Tell in our imaginations. That was great fun, and one of the consequences of honing our stem shooting was of course occasionally hitting the apple itself.
The sweetness of the pierced apple drew the attention of hornets, as I recall. These hornets would dig into the bb hole to forage for food with some reliability. Boys being boys, we hated hornets with a passion, and the only good hornet was a dead hornet in our minds. Very un-Christian frame of mind, perhaps, but those were the facts. So naturally, the competition then evolved to striking the butt's of those hornets as they dug into the apples. Their butt was about the size of a BB, so it was a perfect target. And we became quite the proficient hornet hunters.
Those days still stick in my mind as quite the bucolic upbringing that I enjoyed thanks to my Dad's thoughtfulness for us.
As a an epilogue to that story, when I later went to summer camp in Maine, at Camp Belgrade I believe, they had quite the junior NRA marksmen program. I started from the bottom of the medaling, and gradually worked my way up to Distinguished Expert, shooting their Anschutz 22's with iron sights. No one had ever done that in one summer, at that camp at least, and I was only about 14 at the time. So they decided I would be good to pair up with an older camper in a two man team for the national summer camp competition. The older kid was probably 17 or so, so much more mature and qualified to compete, though I never did meet him. Separately, we shot prone, kneel, and standing, and I was super obsessive about pulling the trigger at the correct time, with nothing less than perfection as my ambition. At the end of the summer, those targets were sent into the national office where they compiled all the results.
I soon forgot about the competition altogether as we had an abrupt change of living conditions, with my Dad getting divorced and us moving to Chicago. Years later, my Dad said one day, sort of nonchalantly, that the owner of the camp had written him and told him we had in fact won the national completion in that two man team class. I was quite shocked. So there's another memory that "stemmed" from my earlier hornet safari's.
Since i was told a second time to enter the contest (I already have) I decided to enter a second time. Heck why not, all I ever win is flowers which my darling wife proceeds to murder with her care.
So
One of my students, did a really bad thing in class one day. I decided, the best thing, rather than get this mentally challenged young man in trouble was to discuss it with his parents. The mom, who was also a teacher went ballistic, ON ME! Taking me to the school board, i was the problem.
Well I was really feeling down. Damed kid, was cussing and raising hell in my classroom and I never cussed and my aid treated him like he was her child. Hard to see where my efforts were his problem. As said, I was feeling really down. So, when in a bad mood, I go out to our little silhouette range and knock down some steel. Well actually on that day I was shooting cardboard cutouts of the silhouettes. We had not yet rebuilt the range (it was really neglected) and there was small pine trees growing on the berm. I shot several shots at my target and saw one of the pine trees fall over. I had literally, shot down a pine tree. To this day, I still have part of the trunk of the tree that I shot down. I got so tickled over shooting down the pine tree that i for got all my troubles.
End of story, the mom never apologized to me, after the threats she made, but she did explain to my aid that the language he used was NOT learned in my classroom but on a tv show they always let him watch.
One can see one of the marks the bullets made passing through the little tree.
So
One of my students, did a really bad thing in class one day. I decided, the best thing, rather than get this mentally challenged young man in trouble was to discuss it with his parents. The mom, who was also a teacher went ballistic, ON ME! Taking me to the school board, i was the problem.
Well I was really feeling down. Damed kid, was cussing and raising hell in my classroom and I never cussed and my aid treated him like he was her child. Hard to see where my efforts were his problem. As said, I was feeling really down. So, when in a bad mood, I go out to our little silhouette range and knock down some steel. Well actually on that day I was shooting cardboard cutouts of the silhouettes. We had not yet rebuilt the range (it was really neglected) and there was small pine trees growing on the berm. I shot several shots at my target and saw one of the pine trees fall over. I had literally, shot down a pine tree. To this day, I still have part of the trunk of the tree that I shot down. I got so tickled over shooting down the pine tree that i for got all my troubles.
End of story, the mom never apologized to me, after the threats she made, but she did explain to my aid that the language he used was NOT learned in my classroom but on a tv show they always let him watch.
One can see one of the marks the bullets made passing through the little tree.
First 5 shots at 100 doing my 1st load test in 308. Shoulda quit right there.
the most memorable shot I’ve ever taken was a few years ago on a moose hunt. There was my brother, and my 2 best friends and it was our first time going on our own and camping and we thought we had it all figured out lol. We find our spot, clear it out, set up a tent and we’re excited for what the week was going bring us. On day 4 a nasty storm rolled in and destroyed our campsite, we lost half our gear, our tents, our fireplace and were in the midst of packing it up loading up all the garbage in 1 truck and gear in another and we’re going to take it to a dump and head home. On our way out with our tails tucked between our legs when on our way out in a clear cut we spot 2 cows and a bull. Me and my buddy both had cow tags. We get out and make our way to a spot we could set up. We waited for what felt like forever for the cows to separate. After a few moments they finally took a couple steps and my brother counted down. 1, 2, 3 *BOOM, BOOM*. Me and my buddy have been hunting together for close to 20 years and this was both of our first moose. To go from an extreme low to the highest of highs I’ll never forget that shot.
Wondering thru the ID desert during the mid-80s, enjoying jackrabbit blasting in the time frame of what we called the Mud Lake Bunny Drives, had a couple days off during my USN training routine so I grabbed a Mini-14 and approx. 300 rounds for a walk with some fellow squids. Lots of targets was an understatement but one sticks out decades later.
The jack went running at fullspeed to avoid the folks chasing him and I pulled down him, fired, and watched him literally separate into 2 parts. The rear legs started tumbling almost immediately but the front legs made 3 more strides before it registered nothing was following! He looked at those who had scared him out of his sage brush hide and rolled to a stop. Seemed to be right out of the cartoons.
The jack went running at fullspeed to avoid the folks chasing him and I pulled down him, fired, and watched him literally separate into 2 parts. The rear legs started tumbling almost immediately but the front legs made 3 more strides before it registered nothing was following! He looked at those who had scared him out of his sage brush hide and rolled to a stop. Seemed to be right out of the cartoons.
In 2020 3 months before covid shut the entire world down I lost my mom to a sudden heart attack, and then back in 2016 I lost my dad to 9/11 related illness. so instead go going down a bad path I decided to build a precision rifle and get into competitions to really give myself a focus and direction. I did a ton of research, watched videos, learned who the people were in this space that made a difference for the better and built a rifle. I head spaced it myself and and spent the time learning how to properly set up a rifle. I shot my first precision rifle match at the Guardian in Texas in 2021. stepping onto the elevator going up to my hotel room; as the doors open who was standing there, Mr. Frank Galli and Mr. Paul Phillips, needless to say it was pretty humbling. The following day I took the train up with Frank, Phil Velayo and a few other instructors and we were on the line, im trying to absorb as much info as I can, and they call my name to engage the Square plate at 400 yards. Mind you, prior to this, I have never shot past 200 yards. so I put the reticle on target hold a little wind and send it. smack the steel at 400 yards, and after that, I was hooked. in that moment I realized that this is going to be a sport I never stop doing and something that brings me pure joy even on the roughest days.
Thanks for making this post and letting people share a little of their story!
- Thomas
Thanks for making this post and letting people share a little of their story!
- Thomas
My most memorable shot goes back to when I was roughly 10 years old. I had a 20 caliber Sheridan pellet gun that I shot many thousands of rounds out of and countless hours walking through the woods with it. I was walking through a field one day and saw a house Sparrow land in a small tree in the middle of the open field about 100 yds away. I didn't think it would be a possibility but I took the shot anyway and dropped the bird out of the tree. I want to inspect the bird and it was dead. I couldn't believe my eyes. I had my own little celebration out there all by myself and since then I have had a passion for precision marksmanship.
Eric M.
South West Michigan
Eric M.
South West Michigan
Hunt Day 4 - Alaska:
Up until this time, everyday we hunted glassing spot #1 in the morning and spot #2 in the evenings. For some reason I really wanted to hunt #2 that morning. We hiked up to our spot and was burning up so we dropped our pants and aired out and before we got too cold layered back up again. I grabbed our call (laundry detergent bottle with the bottom cut out) and really beat the snot out of some willows then let out about 6 bull grunts.
I threw up the binoculars and within 30 seconds, “BIG BULL RIGHT THERE!!”
He was about a mile away and looking in our direction. As soon as I saw him I knew I didn’t need to measure him, he was a shooter… and he started coming in on a string!
We lost him in the alders for a few minutes so we took the opportunity to make it around the hill we were on and cut the distance a couple hundred yards. My cousin was about 20 yards above me and I was laying prone with my rifle over my pack. He still wasn’t showing himself so I motioned to my cousin to rake a little. He raked and a few seconds later he popped over a small hill at 475 yards and stared in our direction. He turned and raked the alders for a few seconds and then lifted his head and steam rolled out of his nostrils.
I’m comfortable shooting that distance but felt he was going to keep coming so I held off. I went ahead and measured him on the reticle and was getting between 13 and 14moa. Rough calculations in my head was telling me he was at least 60”.
He dipped down again in some thick stuff and we again lost him for a few minutes. I had my cousin rake one last time and then THERE!.. he popped out over to the left broadside.
Rangefinder – 390yds
Dialed the Scope - 4moa
My crosshairs landed right behind the shoulder – BOOM!!!... WHACK!!! As I racked another round in I glanced up from my scope and saw he looked like he was hit hard.
Crosshairs again behind the shoulder – BOOM!!!...WHACK!!! He turned 90 degrees and started walking away.
Crosshairs on his rear end – BOOM!!!... WHACK!!! I lifted my head and didn’t see him so I looked up at my cousin and he was smiling with his finger pointing down.
I jumped up and ran up the hill to my cousin, elated and hugged him! I couldn’t believe what just happened.
Being there 2 years ago for my uncles and fathers bulls was an incredible experience but for the last 2 years I wondered what that felt like, to walk up to my own moose. How would I feel? What would I say?
We had to go down, cross a ravine and come back up. Finally I spotted a paddle. As I walked up to him I felt a big lump in my throat… all I could think about was my father, my wife and everything I had poured into this very moment. It may sound silly to some, but I’ve never wanted anything more.
He was everything I ever wanted in a bull and some…
Up until this time, everyday we hunted glassing spot #1 in the morning and spot #2 in the evenings. For some reason I really wanted to hunt #2 that morning. We hiked up to our spot and was burning up so we dropped our pants and aired out and before we got too cold layered back up again. I grabbed our call (laundry detergent bottle with the bottom cut out) and really beat the snot out of some willows then let out about 6 bull grunts.
I threw up the binoculars and within 30 seconds, “BIG BULL RIGHT THERE!!”
He was about a mile away and looking in our direction. As soon as I saw him I knew I didn’t need to measure him, he was a shooter… and he started coming in on a string!
We lost him in the alders for a few minutes so we took the opportunity to make it around the hill we were on and cut the distance a couple hundred yards. My cousin was about 20 yards above me and I was laying prone with my rifle over my pack. He still wasn’t showing himself so I motioned to my cousin to rake a little. He raked and a few seconds later he popped over a small hill at 475 yards and stared in our direction. He turned and raked the alders for a few seconds and then lifted his head and steam rolled out of his nostrils.
I’m comfortable shooting that distance but felt he was going to keep coming so I held off. I went ahead and measured him on the reticle and was getting between 13 and 14moa. Rough calculations in my head was telling me he was at least 60”.
He dipped down again in some thick stuff and we again lost him for a few minutes. I had my cousin rake one last time and then THERE!.. he popped out over to the left broadside.
Rangefinder – 390yds
Dialed the Scope - 4moa
My crosshairs landed right behind the shoulder – BOOM!!!... WHACK!!! As I racked another round in I glanced up from my scope and saw he looked like he was hit hard.
Crosshairs again behind the shoulder – BOOM!!!...WHACK!!! He turned 90 degrees and started walking away.
Crosshairs on his rear end – BOOM!!!... WHACK!!! I lifted my head and didn’t see him so I looked up at my cousin and he was smiling with his finger pointing down.
I jumped up and ran up the hill to my cousin, elated and hugged him! I couldn’t believe what just happened.
Being there 2 years ago for my uncles and fathers bulls was an incredible experience but for the last 2 years I wondered what that felt like, to walk up to my own moose. How would I feel? What would I say?
We had to go down, cross a ravine and come back up. Finally I spotted a paddle. As I walked up to him I felt a big lump in my throat… all I could think about was my father, my wife and everything I had poured into this very moment. It may sound silly to some, but I’ve never wanted anything more.
He was everything I ever wanted in a bull and some…
Most memorable
During BRM Qualifying back in the day.
Second 50 m pops up and I break the shot with A2 sights north of shoulder east of head. Thinking if I missed this i must be missing everything else miserably.
thinking I was not going to qual after holding expert scores in the practice leading up to this final day but was puckered so tight you couldn't put a stick pin up there with a dozer.
Head hanging low awaiting the final scores thinking how could you jump a shot that was that easy?????
Than my name called out.........
39 of 40. A THANK GOD MOMENT
There it is for the whole community to see.
During BRM Qualifying back in the day.
Second 50 m pops up and I break the shot with A2 sights north of shoulder east of head. Thinking if I missed this i must be missing everything else miserably.
thinking I was not going to qual after holding expert scores in the practice leading up to this final day but was puckered so tight you couldn't put a stick pin up there with a dozer.
Head hanging low awaiting the final scores thinking how could you jump a shot that was that easy?????
Than my name called out.........
39 of 40. A THANK GOD MOMENT
There it is for the whole community to see.
When I first got into shooting distance I thought a 600 yard shot was an amazing feat. I also thought a $400 Nikon scope was the greatest optic ever. (Luckily I set it on a PWS 308 and had someone who knew what they were doing custom load ammo and”sight it in for me. He cussed my Nikon)
Practiced on paper at 600 and felt pretty good then set up a feeder with lights and started shooting at wild hogs at night. After a week of thinking I was missing I took what I knew was a great shot but the dang pig ran off.
I was ready to throw my gun off the shooting stand, but I went and checked at the feeder just in case- found a 300lb boar dead about 20 yards away. Found three more dead pigs on the walk back to the truck from the nights before.
Thought I was hot stuff till I found this site and got educated on actual long shots and quality optics.
Y’all cost me a butt load on scopes by the way.
Practiced on paper at 600 and felt pretty good then set up a feeder with lights and started shooting at wild hogs at night. After a week of thinking I was missing I took what I knew was a great shot but the dang pig ran off.
I was ready to throw my gun off the shooting stand, but I went and checked at the feeder just in case- found a 300lb boar dead about 20 yards away. Found three more dead pigs on the walk back to the truck from the nights before.
Thought I was hot stuff till I found this site and got educated on actual long shots and quality optics.
Y’all cost me a butt load on scopes by the way.
Exploding the spindle twice on back-to-back shots during 600yd slow fire service rifle nationals at Camp Perry, OH.
12 years old. Hit a bird at roughly 20 yards with a BB gun shooting from the hip. I had to hide the bird in t he woods, afraid my grandfather would have found out. I was allowed as many BB's as I wanted, as long as I didn't shoot any birds. Ooopps!
Not one shot, but 5. Late nineties, a 20 year old me just beginning to learn precision shooting shot my first 1" group at 100.
A couple more memories...
When I was about 13-14, my buddies and I all made slings out of shoelaces and pieces of denim. One day some crows were flying by at about 25-30 yards. I hit one in the head with a rock and dropped it out of the sky!!
In my late 20s, maybe 30, went out small game hunting with my dad and brother. We started the day with a few pheasants, then a 1/2 dozen rabbits, then turned our attention to squirrels. The plan was, we'd all walk up to big oak trees and slowly surround it. Whoever found a squirrel would drop it. I spotted a big coon 50-60' up a tree, but didn't say anything. I just raised my gun and shot. The next thing anybody knew, a 30ish lb. seriously pissed off coon hit the ground right at my dads feet!!
Once his heart started back up, he put a load of #6 into it and finished it off.
When I was about 13-14, my buddies and I all made slings out of shoelaces and pieces of denim. One day some crows were flying by at about 25-30 yards. I hit one in the head with a rock and dropped it out of the sky!!
In my late 20s, maybe 30, went out small game hunting with my dad and brother. We started the day with a few pheasants, then a 1/2 dozen rabbits, then turned our attention to squirrels. The plan was, we'd all walk up to big oak trees and slowly surround it. Whoever found a squirrel would drop it. I spotted a big coon 50-60' up a tree, but didn't say anything. I just raised my gun and shot. The next thing anybody knew, a 30ish lb. seriously pissed off coon hit the ground right at my dads feet!!
Once his heart started back up, he put a load of #6 into it and finished it off.
A few years ago a rancher and I were on 4 wheelers checking on his horses and cattle when he saw ( with nocks) a coyote trying to pull a calf out before it dropped. It was approximately 600 yds away.
He said let’s see you can hit it. I had my Remington 700 PSS with me. I barely got the scope up to my eye when the coyote started to move. I figured what the Hell , I’d scare the shit out of it ! Safety off , squeezed the trigger and blew most of its head off. Total luck on that shot !!
He bragged about the shot so much , I became a local semi legend.
He butchered a cow and gave me half , plus a 1/2 gallon of moonshine.
He said let’s see you can hit it. I had my Remington 700 PSS with me. I barely got the scope up to my eye when the coyote started to move. I figured what the Hell , I’d scare the shit out of it ! Safety off , squeezed the trigger and blew most of its head off. Total luck on that shot !!
He bragged about the shot so much , I became a local semi legend.
He butchered a cow and gave me half , plus a 1/2 gallon of moonshine.
About 25 years ago - shot a nice 8-point whitetail deer about 150 yards away that was standing broadside in a gravel pit, dropped it in it's tracks with my Remington .308 semi-auto with a Nikon 3-9x40 scope, he weighed about 180 ponds dressed, got him mounted. Mount head cost $300 back then, now mounts cost at least double that thanks to Brandon. FJB & demoncrats!!!
Couple seasons back, I was hiking solo through thick timber just before dusk—wasn’t seeing much all day, and honestly, I was about five minutes from calling it.
Then I caught a flicker of movement through the brush. Big-bodied buck, maybe 120 yards out, weaving through the trees like he owned the place. No shot. Not yet.
I dropped to a knee, found a lane, and waited. My heart was pounding louder than my breathing, and for a second, I actually thought about letting him walk—wasn’t sure I had the angle.
But he stopped. Quartered just enough. I sent one through the shoulder, and he dropped right there.
Not the longest shot I’ve taken, but it’s the one I’ll remember. That quick decision, the squeeze, the thump—and the silence after. No tracking. No second-guessing. Just a clean end to a long day in the woods.
Then I caught a flicker of movement through the brush. Big-bodied buck, maybe 120 yards out, weaving through the trees like he owned the place. No shot. Not yet.
I dropped to a knee, found a lane, and waited. My heart was pounding louder than my breathing, and for a second, I actually thought about letting him walk—wasn’t sure I had the angle.
But he stopped. Quartered just enough. I sent one through the shoulder, and he dropped right there.
Not the longest shot I’ve taken, but it’s the one I’ll remember. That quick decision, the squeeze, the thump—and the silence after. No tracking. No second-guessing. Just a clean end to a long day in the woods.
My best shot was set up on a rock in the Wichita Mountains in Oklahoma on an Elk Hunt and shot from one small mountain to the other. Ranged 283 yards. Rifle was a 300 WM Browning A-bolt hunter. Optic was a Vortex 4-16x44 HSLR. Bullet was a Federal terminal ascent 180 grain. Result was also terminal, bull walked 8 yards and fell over.
I was taking the Vortex long range 1 class, 100 to 1,000 yards. At the end of the class they held a shoot off. 2 shots at each target from 300 to 1000 yards. If you hit first shot then moved to next target. Hit first shot 2 points if miss then second shot, if hit , was 1 point. Spotter would call hit or miss and nothing else. We were on our own for elevation and windage. Hit on first shot all the way to 1000. Missed off right edge. Added .1 mil and contact. 15 out of possible 16 points. I did keep track of my dope throughout the day . I’m 77 years old and the next oldest was at least 15 years younger, all the rest were young wipper snappers. That, ladies and gentlemen is my claim to fame in the shooting world. By the way I did shoot experts in the army 1968.
2023 Nightforce ELR Match was the first rifle match I ever shot. On registration day they have a charity shoot. A full sizer unicorn target at 1940 yards. I went to the AB booth and shot across their radar. Got my custom drag model and got in line to shoot the charity shoot. Waiting for my turn to shoot I double checked all my dope and my gear. Then I got called to the line, laid my stick down, and was given some time to get settled in. Once given the command I closed the bolt on my 338 Norma Improved and torched off the first round. Waited about 7 seconds and, the S.O. yelled "IMPACT" and everyone around the e-z-up cheered. I hit 4 in a row, then picked up 2 more hits for 6/10 on my first ELR match day. It was awesome!
AI AX SA 26” 6.5 CM, 140gr Berger Hybrid Targets, 1200ish yards
Two weeks ago, at a regional match that only allows suppressors. It was my second match ever. I had struggled all weekend. All due to my own failures. Poor fundamentals behind the gun. Poor stabilizing of the gun. Bad wind. Heck, a bad zero the day before. One of the last stages, the longest shot of the weekend. A couple of close misses at closer ranged targets. And then a press. Bang. Time passes. It seemingly takes forever. Then a flash of green.
“IMPACT!” the spotter called out.
I connected on the longest shot of the weekend. I had righted my woes. I had a little confidence that when I slowed down, paid attention to the little things, I could actually perform in this sport.
Two weeks ago, at a regional match that only allows suppressors. It was my second match ever. I had struggled all weekend. All due to my own failures. Poor fundamentals behind the gun. Poor stabilizing of the gun. Bad wind. Heck, a bad zero the day before. One of the last stages, the longest shot of the weekend. A couple of close misses at closer ranged targets. And then a press. Bang. Time passes. It seemingly takes forever. Then a flash of green.
“IMPACT!” the spotter called out.
I connected on the longest shot of the weekend. I had righted my woes. I had a little confidence that when I slowed down, paid attention to the little things, I could actually perform in this sport.
Went out on my birthday with my friend to a local open range to shoot. Actually, it was my first time ever with anything other than an air gun or pistol. Anyway we decided to bring various things to plink at with an old Henry 22 lever action. It was early fall in the middle of Missouri so we had our pick of produce. Watermelons were fun because they get all explodey, but it's all over awful quick. The real challenge was the pumpkin. Tough little bastard just didn't want to go down. Turn after turn, reloading and emptying the entire magazine. It just still pretty much held up if a little worse for wear. Right near the end when we were about to give up on it, I took one last shot and launched the very top of its pumpkiney skull cap and stem about 5 or 6 feet into the air. About the most satisfying single shot that I ever took, and all with a humble little 22.
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On my first deer hunt, I was freezing my ass off on the first day and missed my shot. I was very disappointed. I went back out the next morning and didn’t see anything. I wasn’t ready to give up, so I took my Marlin slug gun (12 gauge) with me and went for a walk looking for one.
There’s this young button buck standing in the corner field. I was behind a tree about 75 yards out. I was nervous and shaky but took a deep breath and went for it. Heart shot and it dropped dead in the spot. I’ll never forget that moment.
There’s this young button buck standing in the corner field. I was behind a tree about 75 yards out. I was nervous and shaky but took a deep breath and went for it. Heart shot and it dropped dead in the spot. I’ll never forget that moment.
Growing up my brother and I had a gun in our hand most of the day everyday. He was a bit over 3 years older than me, but we spent most of our time together, playing navy seal in the backwoods. Now this was maybe 20 years ago, give or take year. My brother was in the delayed entry program for the Marines. As normal I would be hanging out with him, but now with his recruiter and other enlisted. We lived out on a dead end road with nothing but woods around us for a couple miles, so all the guys in the program came over to shoot some skeet. Now I wasn't shooting, but I was letting one of the guys use my shotgun. My brother starts shit talking to the guys and says my little brother could shoot better than any of them. Naturally a challenge was arranged and I was handed my shotty with a slug loaded up. Now I assumed this was a joke because not even my brother could have this amount of confidence in me; but regardless I stepped up for the shot. The clay went up and so did my confidence. Slug flew through that clay dead center. Now for the naysayers, we shot over an uncut hay field so we quickly confirmed the kill, still intact minus the center. No doubt increased my reputation with my brother and the guys.
Maybe not the best shot, but my most memorable
Maybe not the best shot, but my most memorable
In my 20's, 30 years ago, I was out plinking at a rock formation.
Got done shooting and was packing every thing up and found one more loaded mag.
I was only shooting a 9mm and was not hearing any ricochet's so I was not worried about my lungs out and I didn't feel like unpacking my hearing protection for one last mag. Unfortunately the rock formation was shaped like an amphitheater and the sound of the shots was reflected right back to my Dumbo ears.
My ears rang painfully for over 24 hours after that.
A couple years later I lost hearing 2 or 3 times temporarily in one ear so went to the doctor and got my ears checked. After the test the doctor asked me if I worked at Boeing. I said no. The doctor said I had the hearing of someone who worked at Boeing as a riveter for 20 years, I was still in my 20's at the time.
Now I have hearing aids to help with my hearing as I have ringing in my ears today. I will never forget that magazine.
Got done shooting and was packing every thing up and found one more loaded mag.
I was only shooting a 9mm and was not hearing any ricochet's so I was not worried about my lungs out and I didn't feel like unpacking my hearing protection for one last mag. Unfortunately the rock formation was shaped like an amphitheater and the sound of the shots was reflected right back to my Dumbo ears.
My ears rang painfully for over 24 hours after that.A couple years later I lost hearing 2 or 3 times temporarily in one ear so went to the doctor and got my ears checked. After the test the doctor asked me if I worked at Boeing. I said no. The doctor said I had the hearing of someone who worked at Boeing as a riveter for 20 years, I was still in my 20's at the time.
Now I have hearing aids to help with my hearing as I have ringing in my ears today. I will never forget that magazine.
Nightforce ELR steel challenge 2025. Team division. Stage #6. 4 coyotes. My team mate and I had a goal this year to clean a stage as a team. We were both perfect through the first 3 targets making first round impacts. We transitioned to the final target and settled in. I called “on target” to spot for my friend. He sent it and I was able to pick up the trace perfectly and I knew it was a hit when it was halfway there. Dead center impact. Now the pressure was on! I tried really hard to push the “don’t miss!” thought from my mind. Hearing my friend say “you have time, make a good shot buddy” helped ease the pressure. I squeezed the round off and it felt like forever but finally we saw it hit dead center. Team clean for the first time! We were pretty fired up and can’t wait to go back next year!
The best shot I ever took was at my ex-would be father in law. For lying about being a Vietnam vet.We’re giving away a free rifle barrel to one lucky shooter—and all you need to do to enter is share a story.
We know there are a lot of different shooters out there, so the winner has their choice of barrel from https://riflebarrelblanks.com/
How to Enter:
Tell us about the best or most memorable shot you’ve ever taken.
Whether it was a perfect bullseye at 1,000 yards, a successful hunt after hours in the woods, or a lucky shot—we want to hear it! Bonus points if you’ve got a photo or video too
Reminder: Supporters get extra entries!
Everyone has the chance to win, but we want to give back to everyone supporting the Hide. If you’re a Supporter and enter the contest, you’ll get 10 extra entries. If you’d like a better chance of winning, subscribe here!
Contest runs from May 29th through June 13th and we’ll be announcing the winner live. Good luck everyone!
My person favorite shot was a few years ago on an early morning range trip. Nothing wild or even a difficult shot. Decided to dial out to 600yds to start the day. Starting the day with satisfying center hit on a 12” gong still makes me smile when I think about it.
My most memorable shot up to this point also comes from NF ELR 2025. Went to Wyoming having never competed nor shot more than 1k yards. Went to the range to practice on Thursday and got hits out to a mile. Stage 8, the ELR stage, has me shooting second. I impacted the 1st target, my buddy shoots and loses the targets. We get to target 3 at 2255 yards, my buddy fires off both rounds and misses. I was on target and ready to shoot. I asked for time, RO stated 16 seconds left. Out of elevation at 18.4 mils I held it off in the reticle and fired a shot. While waiting on the bullet to arrive I ran the bolt and readied another 7PRC round to fire the shot before the timer expired, when I hear "Impact!" First round at 2255 yards, a record for myself that is likely to never be broken.
Using your resources to make the kill—-
I was hunting Colorado 2nd Rifle season in late October. I was positioned on top of a flat Mesa overlooking the valley below. I had a wide open field maybe about 3/4 of a mile long I was watching as it neared sunset hoping for an Elk to make a mistake and poke its head out early. I had seen signs of a bull in the area the days prior and was hoping he would make that mistake.
As sunset neared I finally saw movement about 1000 yards out. I reached for my rangefinder to get a better look only to gawk down and realize I left them behind on this jaunt.
I get behind my rifle (Remington 700 LA, 7MAG, Oryx chassis, Omgea 300 can) to look through glass to see what it is.
I watched it stalk critters in the high grass for 20 minutes. Turns out what I saw was a beautiful looking coyote. Now I have never taken a coyote but I had my Colorado small game license and thought to myself “if he’s still in this field as shooting light goes I’m taking him”.
Now I watch him creep closer and closer, trying and failing to pounce on mice and other small critters in the field. At this point I’ve made up my mind I’m taking this yote with me today.
My next thought is “shit I left my rangefinder behind, how can I make a good shot on him”
Then it hits me. I still have my OnX app up on my phone with the offline maps loaded in.
Sure enough I pull it up, GPS has my spot exact where my terrain association says I should be. So I start looking for landmarks, I notice a tree line on the map jutting out at about 300y from my position.
I check the map using the distance tool and sure enough it’s about 300y exactly. I said “I’m going to wait for him to get online with that tree line and then shoot”
I dial my scope and lay my rifle across my pack and watch him creep in closer and closer. When he’s in my kill zone I squeeze off a shot. Coyote drops and the shots very quiet.
Now I don’t need to tell you or show you what a 7 mag does to a yote.
This shot is memorable for me because it taught me a lesson to always double check my gear before stepping off as well as taught me to maximize my resources to make and ethical kill, and extends that ethical range just a bit for me without that perfect range finder.
Thanks for reading,
ZF
I was hunting Colorado 2nd Rifle season in late October. I was positioned on top of a flat Mesa overlooking the valley below. I had a wide open field maybe about 3/4 of a mile long I was watching as it neared sunset hoping for an Elk to make a mistake and poke its head out early. I had seen signs of a bull in the area the days prior and was hoping he would make that mistake.
As sunset neared I finally saw movement about 1000 yards out. I reached for my rangefinder to get a better look only to gawk down and realize I left them behind on this jaunt.
I get behind my rifle (Remington 700 LA, 7MAG, Oryx chassis, Omgea 300 can) to look through glass to see what it is.
I watched it stalk critters in the high grass for 20 minutes. Turns out what I saw was a beautiful looking coyote. Now I have never taken a coyote but I had my Colorado small game license and thought to myself “if he’s still in this field as shooting light goes I’m taking him”.
Now I watch him creep closer and closer, trying and failing to pounce on mice and other small critters in the field. At this point I’ve made up my mind I’m taking this yote with me today.
My next thought is “shit I left my rangefinder behind, how can I make a good shot on him”
Then it hits me. I still have my OnX app up on my phone with the offline maps loaded in.
Sure enough I pull it up, GPS has my spot exact where my terrain association says I should be. So I start looking for landmarks, I notice a tree line on the map jutting out at about 300y from my position.
I check the map using the distance tool and sure enough it’s about 300y exactly. I said “I’m going to wait for him to get online with that tree line and then shoot”
I dial my scope and lay my rifle across my pack and watch him creep in closer and closer. When he’s in my kill zone I squeeze off a shot. Coyote drops and the shots very quiet.
Now I don’t need to tell you or show you what a 7 mag does to a yote.
This shot is memorable for me because it taught me a lesson to always double check my gear before stepping off as well as taught me to maximize my resources to make and ethical kill, and extends that ethical range just a bit for me without that perfect range finder.
Thanks for reading,
ZF
Most memorable shot would have to be a moose hunt when I was 12. I drew first year and since I didn't have good grades that year my parents said I couldn't hunt anything else. But since I drew my moose tag, they couldn't keep that from me. After a week long hunt we finally found the target moose. She was half a mile up mountain goat grade hill. But we sprinted to try and cut her off before she made dark timber. In my excitement as soon as we got to the top of the hill, I took a bad quartering away shot which caused her to lay down on the spot. At this point all I could see was her head, and my dad told me to let him know when I was going to shoot. He must not have heard me because as I cracked off the cleanest head shot possible. My dad tumbled down the hill about 6ft. This was my first kill, and in the top 3 for most memorable.
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Went out prairie dog hunting in the Dakotas with my new 6GT build, 20” barrel, just starting to break it in. I’d been running both 87gr V-MAX and 110gr A-TIPs, mostly shooting inside 500 yards.
Late one evening, a dog popped up at 1,027 meters. Took four shots and didn’t see any splash, which had me thinking the barrel had picked up some speed, maybe around 25 fps. I adjusted down 0.5 mils and sent the fifth round.
That shot went straight through the center of the dog. No question, that’s the cleanest and best shot I’ve made with this rifle so far.
Late one evening, a dog popped up at 1,027 meters. Took four shots and didn’t see any splash, which had me thinking the barrel had picked up some speed, maybe around 25 fps. I adjusted down 0.5 mils and sent the fifth round.
That shot went straight through the center of the dog. No question, that’s the cleanest and best shot I’ve made with this rifle so far.
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I've taken a lot of shots that were memorable to me, but one that stands out the most is a shot I didn't take. I was practicing for a 22LR silhouette shoot with my Anschutz 64 MPR. We at four different ranges (80, 120, 160, and 200yds), with 10 steel targets at each range. While practicing at 160yds I noticed a fuzzy blur behind my target. I decreased the magnification on the scope some to get a better view. I'm glad I stopped myself and didn't take that shot (always know your background). What I saw was a rare Allegheny Fox Squirrel. From nose to tip of the tail was almost 24" and the white markings on the face were quite unique. It had no care in the world that I had just been shooting targets in the vary place it was wandering past. I'd never seen a squirrel that big or beautiful in my life. I knew they lived there but hadn't seen one in all the years I had been shooting. I watched it for a good five minutes before it moved on way into the woods. I'll never forget it. I wouldn't have hit it even if I had shot (it was below my actual target), but I doubt I would have gotten the chance to sit and watch it if I had shot my target. Some things in nature are worth sitting back and enjoying.
That said, my grandma might have been mad I let it pass by (were she still around). Gray Squirrels would get in the grain bins or eat all the good persimmons around the farm. Growing up, my uncles would pay me up to $1 per squirrel (for groundhogs too), and grandma would always cook up the squirrels I'd bring in (Squirrel gravy or squirrel dumplings). Grandma grew up in the depression and grew to love squirrel brains and eggs as a girl. Well, given her love for that "delicacy" she would get a little irked if you shot the squirrel in the head. So I had to refine my skills as a young hunter. With the iron sights on my Dad's old Ruger 10/22 (late 1960's or very early 1970's model I think), and with both eyes open, I would wait for them to jump before I shot. Once in flight I knew they couldn't change course. A single shot at the very back of the skull where it joined the neck became my "signature" shot if you will. Little meat would go to waste, and grandma could have her brains and eggs (I never did acquire a taste for brains). I still remember very well the pride of the clean kill and the look on grandma's face when I'd bring her several handfuls so she would have enough to feed everyone.
There are other shots that might be more impressive. Certainly ones at longer range, hunting and targets. However, Those are the ones I remember best. Perhaps because of the moments they created. If nothing else, hopefully you could enjoy the stories.
Cheers,
JMatt
That said, my grandma might have been mad I let it pass by (were she still around). Gray Squirrels would get in the grain bins or eat all the good persimmons around the farm. Growing up, my uncles would pay me up to $1 per squirrel (for groundhogs too), and grandma would always cook up the squirrels I'd bring in (Squirrel gravy or squirrel dumplings). Grandma grew up in the depression and grew to love squirrel brains and eggs as a girl. Well, given her love for that "delicacy" she would get a little irked if you shot the squirrel in the head. So I had to refine my skills as a young hunter. With the iron sights on my Dad's old Ruger 10/22 (late 1960's or very early 1970's model I think), and with both eyes open, I would wait for them to jump before I shot. Once in flight I knew they couldn't change course. A single shot at the very back of the skull where it joined the neck became my "signature" shot if you will. Little meat would go to waste, and grandma could have her brains and eggs (I never did acquire a taste for brains). I still remember very well the pride of the clean kill and the look on grandma's face when I'd bring her several handfuls so she would have enough to feed everyone.
There are other shots that might be more impressive. Certainly ones at longer range, hunting and targets. However, Those are the ones I remember best. Perhaps because of the moments they created. If nothing else, hopefully you could enjoy the stories.
Cheers,
JMatt
It was the first stage of a regional precision rifle match — early morning, 38 degrees, wind steady out of the west at 6–8 mph. I was running my Howa 1500 in .308, a rifle that’s never let me down, but it was still cold bore, and this stage gave no room for warmup.
The target was a reduced IPSC silhouette at 726 yards, partially obscured by scrub, with a narrow window to engage from a barricade. You had to shoot standing, braced off a single post — not exactly stable. Most guys ahead of me had dropped one or both shots, calling the wind wrong or timing out trying to settle in.
I dialed 5.6 MILs of elevation, held 0.7 left for wind, and got steady as I could. First round, I pressed — clean break. I didn’t even need to spot it: Impact. Center mass. I shifted and sent the second — another solid hit. Then I smiled and said it: “Called it.”
It wasn’t the farthest I’ve ever shot. Wasn’t the flashiest stage. But it was my cold bore, two rounds, on unstable support, and I called the wind right while others were still second-guessing. That was the moment I felt like a real precision shooter — not just a guy pulling a trigger.
The target was a reduced IPSC silhouette at 726 yards, partially obscured by scrub, with a narrow window to engage from a barricade. You had to shoot standing, braced off a single post — not exactly stable. Most guys ahead of me had dropped one or both shots, calling the wind wrong or timing out trying to settle in.
I dialed 5.6 MILs of elevation, held 0.7 left for wind, and got steady as I could. First round, I pressed — clean break. I didn’t even need to spot it: Impact. Center mass. I shifted and sent the second — another solid hit. Then I smiled and said it: “Called it.”
It wasn’t the farthest I’ve ever shot. Wasn’t the flashiest stage. But it was my cold bore, two rounds, on unstable support, and I called the wind right while others were still second-guessing. That was the moment I felt like a real precision shooter — not just a guy pulling a trigger.
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While shooting the 1000 yard line in a palma match, at Raton NM, there was a huge wind change. I made a 25 and a half windage adjustment and caught an x at 9 o'clock.
KYL last weekend. Zeroed the 900 and 1k. Then cold bore center punched the 10" plate at 1k for the 5pt bonus. No pic, but a couple folks probably have it burned in their brains. It was perfect and marginally redeeming.
I’m a veteran and I’ve hunted most of my life, but my most memorable shot was at the range. I was shooting with my mk12mod0 with that original a1 stock. Two youngsters set up in the booth next to me and were whispering about the old AR I was running. I don’t think they knew anything about the mk12 but they likely thought it was an a1 or a2 rifle. I know they were going to set up at the next break so I made a point to shoot 20 rounds into a ragged circle center mass on my target. The final most memorable shot was the final one where the jagged circle became an almost perfect circle because it released the remaining scraps of paper. When everyone went to swap out their targets, they saw mine and were speechless. For a minute there, being the old vet with the rifle felt pretty good.
I was taking the Vortex long rang 1 class, 100 to 1,000 yards. At the end of the class they held a shoot off. 2 shots at each target from 300 to 1000 yards. If you hit first shot then moved to next target. Hit first shot 2 points if miss then second shot, if hit , was 1 point. Spotter would call hit or miss and nothing else. We were on our own for elevation and windage. Hit on first shot all the way to 1000. Missed off right edge. Added .1 mil and contact. Fortunately I log my dope for the day. 15 out of possible 16 points. I’m 77 years old and the next oldest was at least 15 years younger, all the rest were young wippersnappers. This is my claim to fame in the shooting world. Also, I shot expert in the army 1968.
I was 13 I believe with my dad's Remington 700 featherweight? Chambered in .270win with a 3x9 of some sort. wait nope I take that back he had both a .270 and a .280Rem, I had the .280, anyway... I was in the stand my dad and uncle built togeather on 100 acres we hunted on in NE Georgia, you had come to come a hill, down to a flat area that had a nice creek running off to the side of it next to a tree line, the creek was maybe 15-20 yards from the tree line. The tree stand stood 40' tall best I recall and looked more like one of those old fire spotting towers on mountain tops, just big enough you could almost touch both sides but not quite. If careful you could get two folding chairs in one.
Well the stand was off to one side, the area was boxed in by the tree line, sun rising, thin coat of frost on everything, cold... could see my breath, I had come in early obviously while it was still dark out, around 5am I think from our shack back at the campground about 80 acres back... I was in one of the farthest away stands my dad, older brother and uncle had built. (the three of them built most, and my grandfather even helped with a few) Anyway got up in the stand and settled in, nodded off and figured I'd wake up in a bit... hands on a hot pocket warmer.... woke up to the sun in my eyes and like I said frost on everything. After a bit of sloooowly easing up and looking around, I heard something coming down the hill... had a pair of those old "action ears" on at the time they were much larger and clunky than now days... had external microphones even... anyway oh I forgot to mention it was a doe day... so I was ready to shoot about anything LOL.
Well out pops this rather large doe maybe 150 yards away east (in the direction of the sun, the creek ran east to west btw) she was headed in the direction of the creek, to get water most likely, she got about 1/3 of the way out in the clearing and I started easing over to pick up my dad's rifle sloooowly careful not to make a sound, at that point I noticed there was another deer, smaller, younger looking, that just started coming out of the tree line. At this point I'm trying to ease the rifle down on the edge of the window of this stand without making a sound and not being noticed so I'm moving at a slugs pace.
By the time I got glass on the smaller deer just to see what it was, he was half way out with the doe not to far ahead. I saw he was a spike, and since at this point I had only a year or two prior shot a doe, I was going for him, my first buck, didin't care that he was a spike he was a buck and that was good enough. I lined up the reticle right behind the shoulder and down just a tad, and while he paused for a text book broad side shot to get a nibble of something. I sqeeezed the trigger. Now I should say I was a tall kid, but skinny as a rail, I was a light kid... so once I recovered from the recoil looking out in the clearing I just saw the doe running for all it was worth back the way she came.
Now my dad had taught me if I shot something, to just stay in the stand and wait for him, he would hear the shot and come to me, and then we would go look for it. Well I never saw it after I shot, I didn't know what happened, I didn't see it run off, but the more I tried to recall which way it must have gone, the more I was worried I missed and just didn't notice it in the shade or something running away. And after what felt like 30min, and probably was I heard my dad coming down the hill, or so I though.... the Doe! she was coming back to investigate where her young one was at is my guess. I had just got her in my sights when all of a sudden her tail went up and she ran right afterwards... And then I heard rustling coming down the trail... dad.
When he got to the stand and I got down, he apologized for spooking the deer, didn't know it was there, didn't expect one to be after I shot. So I tell him where the deer was standing when I shot, and we walk out there, and I'll be a... there he lay, didn't look like he took another step, the tall grass, weeds and such just hid him, he must have fallen like a sack of potatoes right where he stood. Those 140gr Remington "lip stick bullets" as dad called him did a number on him, entry wound very small... exit wound to my young self looked like it was the size of a large orange. We field dressed him, hit a rib on both sides of his rib cage, I don't recall if it did any damage to the heart or not, I never forgot it hit a rib on both sides though and I figured that's why the exit wound looked so massive.
Turned all of his meet into jerky, froze and bagged... ate him for a few summers.
Well the stand was off to one side, the area was boxed in by the tree line, sun rising, thin coat of frost on everything, cold... could see my breath, I had come in early obviously while it was still dark out, around 5am I think from our shack back at the campground about 80 acres back... I was in one of the farthest away stands my dad, older brother and uncle had built. (the three of them built most, and my grandfather even helped with a few) Anyway got up in the stand and settled in, nodded off and figured I'd wake up in a bit... hands on a hot pocket warmer.... woke up to the sun in my eyes and like I said frost on everything. After a bit of sloooowly easing up and looking around, I heard something coming down the hill... had a pair of those old "action ears" on at the time they were much larger and clunky than now days... had external microphones even... anyway oh I forgot to mention it was a doe day... so I was ready to shoot about anything LOL.
Well out pops this rather large doe maybe 150 yards away east (in the direction of the sun, the creek ran east to west btw) she was headed in the direction of the creek, to get water most likely, she got about 1/3 of the way out in the clearing and I started easing over to pick up my dad's rifle sloooowly careful not to make a sound, at that point I noticed there was another deer, smaller, younger looking, that just started coming out of the tree line. At this point I'm trying to ease the rifle down on the edge of the window of this stand without making a sound and not being noticed so I'm moving at a slugs pace.
By the time I got glass on the smaller deer just to see what it was, he was half way out with the doe not to far ahead. I saw he was a spike, and since at this point I had only a year or two prior shot a doe, I was going for him, my first buck, didin't care that he was a spike he was a buck and that was good enough. I lined up the reticle right behind the shoulder and down just a tad, and while he paused for a text book broad side shot to get a nibble of something. I sqeeezed the trigger. Now I should say I was a tall kid, but skinny as a rail, I was a light kid... so once I recovered from the recoil looking out in the clearing I just saw the doe running for all it was worth back the way she came.
Now my dad had taught me if I shot something, to just stay in the stand and wait for him, he would hear the shot and come to me, and then we would go look for it. Well I never saw it after I shot, I didn't know what happened, I didn't see it run off, but the more I tried to recall which way it must have gone, the more I was worried I missed and just didn't notice it in the shade or something running away. And after what felt like 30min, and probably was I heard my dad coming down the hill, or so I though.... the Doe! she was coming back to investigate where her young one was at is my guess. I had just got her in my sights when all of a sudden her tail went up and she ran right afterwards... And then I heard rustling coming down the trail... dad.
When he got to the stand and I got down, he apologized for spooking the deer, didn't know it was there, didn't expect one to be after I shot. So I tell him where the deer was standing when I shot, and we walk out there, and I'll be a... there he lay, didn't look like he took another step, the tall grass, weeds and such just hid him, he must have fallen like a sack of potatoes right where he stood. Those 140gr Remington "lip stick bullets" as dad called him did a number on him, entry wound very small... exit wound to my young self looked like it was the size of a large orange. We field dressed him, hit a rib on both sides of his rib cage, I don't recall if it did any damage to the heart or not, I never forgot it hit a rib on both sides though and I figured that's why the exit wound looked so massive.
Turned all of his meet into jerky, froze and bagged... ate him for a few summers.
Made this little killer in the dark with my eyes closed. Gun was a Smooth bore at point blank.
380 yards off a tripod. He was moving away from us and about to go over a ridge, so not much time. Practice makes perfect, chambered a round, put it on the tripod, ranged him, dialed, hit him quartering away perfect 156gn EOL 6.5prc. Rolled him.
4 years ago I was on a back country elk hunt with my brother. We were packed in on horses 25 miles. On day 4 of the hunt we were running into many bugling bulls chasing cows but none of them were what we were looking for. A little further down the canyon we spot another bull that we weren’t going to pass up. He was 600 yards up the side of the canyon in front of us with no good shot available. We decided to try and cut the distance and get a better angle. Well as it worked out there wasn’t a better spot and we just kept moving in. We knew we were getting close but not exactly sure as he was just over a rise in the hill. We got ready and peaked over the hill. He was at 40 yards, surrounded by cows and ripping a bugle off right in our direction. I was packing a custom 6.5 creedmoor built on a stiller action, Brux barrel, in a McMillan game scout stock shooting hornady 147 eldms. I threw the gun up free hand and put one in its shoulder followed up shortly by another and he was done. He was a beautiful 6x6 going 340. We went to work quartering it out and loading it up on the horses. This area is thick with grizzly bears so we try to make quick work of it.
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2009 Texas State Service Rifle Match…. Like a dumba**, I went to the 600yd with my 300yd zero on my A2 AR. Burned both sighters. Confused as hell for a second, I looked at my elevation. Adjusted and fired my first shot for record. My spotter called a pinwheel X. Second shot, put the spotter disc through the target. Wish I could say that I did that with the rest, but I didn’t. Nothing like the first two shots for score being an X after the i pulled my head out of my ass.
Well, the most memorable has gotta be when I was a kid shooting 22s with my buddies. There was a little bird in a tree at about 100 yards. I was the best shot out of the bunch and they all bet I couldn’t hit it. Took it out first shot with some cheesy 3x9 scope. I was shocked myself. We all thought it was awesome and had a great time.We’re giving away a free rifle barrel to one lucky shooter—and all you need to do to enter is share a story.
We know there are a lot of different shooters out there, so the winner has their choice of barrel from https://riflebarrelblanks.com/
How to Enter:
Tell us about the best or most memorable shot you’ve ever taken.
Whether it was a perfect bullseye at 1,000 yards, a successful hunt after hours in the woods, or a lucky shot—we want to hear it! Bonus points if you’ve got a photo or video too
Reminder: Supporters get extra entries!
Everyone has the chance to win, but we want to give back to everyone supporting the Hide. If you’re a Supporter and enter the contest, you’ll get 10 extra entries. If you’d like a better chance of winning, subscribe here!
Contest runs from May 29th through June 13th and we’ll be announcing the winner live. Good luck everyone!
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