My best shot was a single shot at an antelope running flat out at about 200 yards. I was using a .7mm Wby with 138 gr PSP bullets. I pulled the trigger when the crosshairs were about an antelope's length in front of the animal, and it rolled dead as a doornail with a perfect neck shot.

My worst shot was when I was bowhunting mule deer and hit a buck in the shoulder. The deer was about 20 yards away and the arrow knocked him on his butt. He then jumped up and ran over a ridge into a deep canyon, never to be seen again.

I probably hit the femur of the deer and the broadhead never made it past the bone.

BH63

Best shot?

I was trying to shoot an impala I could not see, despite the fact he was about 70 yards away.

“I cannot see him!”

He is feeding by that tree, in the grass, with his head down”

“I see nothing but grass”

“If you aim a few inches to the left of the tree trunk, you will hit him”

I did.

And we got our impala


Worst was missing a hippo in Lake Kariba at about 70 yards

Maybe not the best but certainly my latest fun shot!


I was hog hunting and had brought along my Ruger American Rifle in 22 Mag. I was using the 30 gr. V-Max rounds.



This jack came through and stoped at the edge of the scrum. I lasered him at 131 yds. The wind was blowing straight in my face at 15 mph plus. I had the scope at 3 power for glassing and did not have the time to increase the power. Held over just a skosh. Hit the sucker in the eyeball. Half inch higher and I would have missed.

ya!

GWB

Best shots -

1. I shot a pheasant with the stock of my shotgun. The barrel portion was already lying in the case on the top of my car. Our last guy coming in flushed the bird over the top of my vehicle. I pointed the stock at him, yelled "Bang! Bang!" a few times, the cock turned his head, stared at me, and flew into a power line. He dropped onto the pavement stunned, and one of the guides walked over, picked him up, and and rang his neck.

2. Watched an armadillo foraging while I sat in a deer stand near Ozona. He came out on the ranch road, and I thought, "what the hell". He stopped broadside at about 125 yards. I shot at him with a 25.06. The dust flew up just in front of him and he didn't move. I watched him a few minutes, and he never moved. He looked a little funny through the scope. I climbed down, walked over to him, and he was still standing on his feet with his body off the ground. I had vaporized his head. Nothing of it was left. I guess his brain didn't have time to pass the message to his body to fall over. After a few more minutes of marveling at him for standing up without a head, I tipped him over.

Worst shot -

The kill I always felt badly about was a big mule deer near Van Horn in West Texas back in the early 80s. We were hunting a large expanse of lava beds. My buddy and I spotted a large buck out past 250 yards. I got the best rest I could. He was standing facing me. I fired, and he took off running towards the fence line that was the boundary for our property. I couldn't get back on him before he and a few does jumped the fence. Jimmy and I talked for a little while then decided we would turn back and hunt towards camp. I took one last look, and spotted a big buck lying under a mesquite tree facing us about where "my" buck was standing when I took the shot. I decided I didn't want to try another long shot if he was wounded, so I told my friend to stay put and I would circle the buck and see if I could sneak in on him. It took forever to climb in and around the lava, but I finally got where I thought I should see my buck, but couldn't. My friend started directing me with hand signals to move about 50 yards left. The mesquites were thicker than they looked from above. I finally noticed an antler through the thick brush far ahead of me, and signaled my friend to move towards me to possibly flush him. Before Jimmy got very far, the buck panicked, scrambled to his feet and bounded straight at me. His front and rear legs were broken on the same side, but he bounced right at me on the other two legs. I fired as he was coming, but he stayed on his feet and disappeared over the hill behind me. There was nothing but tall grass towards a ridge of large lava outcroppings. Jimmy got to me and I told him the situation. I thought I had hit the buck as he ran towards me, but he refused to go down. We started fanning out in the tall grass searching for a body, or at least a blood trail. The grass was up past our waists. After a good while, we got back together and were trying to understand where he could have gone. My friend then told me to look at my jeans. I had a lot of blood between my waist and my knees. The blood trail wasn't on the ground. It was on the grass. We started the search again and was able to cut the "trail" and follow it towards the lava ridge. We then worked out another plan. He would stay put, I would circle around, climb the lava ridge, move down it towards him, then as he started to move along the blood trail, I would "dog" him from above. It worked to perfection. Once I saw Jimmy getting close to the outcropping, I motioned him to stop. I started moving slowly along the ridge looking down into every cave and crevice, and after a while, there my buck was, lying down in a deep crevice staring towards Jimmy. I sighted over the scope, and ended it. When I was able get off the ridge and back around to my friend, we went to work dragging the buck out of the rocks. He had a beautiful rack, but he was a sad sight. Two legs broken to beat hell, and the shot I took as he rushed towards me just unzipped his neck on one side. The wound was the shape and size of a football. I had him mounted after buying a new cape, and he's on the wall in my garage. I have really mixed memories of that shooting exhibition.

Worst shot, my bull elk in 1997. Blew out about 10 inches of his left hind leg and ended up tracking the blood trail about 300 plus yatrds. Ther animal dropped down into a small creek, in a hole about 6 feet deep, 12 feet or so long and ab out 6 feet wide at its widest point, but the outlet was narrower than the spread of his antlers and my guide was able to put a finisher in him before he could work his way out.

I really do not know that I have ever made a best shot.

I can't tell you my worst shot since I've made so many, it's be hard to pick one.

However, one of my best shots was when a friend and I took our beagles out to rabbit hunt. As we walked along a two track road (we were hunting swamp rabbits), a covey of quail got up right at the edge of the road and disappeared into the woods.
I told my buddy, "if some of those quail get up in the open, I'll kill some. I'm one helluva wing shot". He just about rolled on the ground laughing and kidded me for the rest of the day.
After a day of rabbit hunting, we were coming in along the same two track and the quail got up again but instead of heading into the woods, they flew straight down the little road.
I got one on the rise, and caught a couple crossing over going away.
I never broke stride but just walked on along, picked up my single, took a couple more steps and picked up my double and casually said over my shoulder, "told you I could shoot those birds", and walked on along.
I never told him that was the only triple I'd ever shot.

Another best shot -

I was hunting whitetail near Eldorado, Texas. I get bored easily in a stand, and hadn't seen anything. I finally climbed down out of the stand and started stalking. Jumped a few whitetail with no shot opportunity. Then I noticed a flock of about fifteen turkey moving out in front of me. They finally bunched-up and I aimed the 25.06 even with the heads, and pulled-off a round. All the turkey ran except one on the ground flopping. When I got to him, he still had his eyes but the little spot where his brain had been was gone. A lucky shot, but definitely didn't spoil any meat.

I was driving in a farm lane to hunt groundhogs when we spotted a few crows on the ground near the bush, about 150 yards off. I backed up so they couldn’t see us get out and grabbed my .222.

My buddy and I snuck to a post and I leaned against it and told my buddy I was “going to aim an inch over his head” of one of the crows. He dropped at the shot. When we walked up to him, I’d shot him right through the eye.

Two years ago I was at a deer camp where we did drives. Normal plan was to line the guys out and let things settle down for an hour before starting the drive. I was put at the farthest stand, below a beaver dam with a noisy stream alongside.

Once I got set up a grouse came and landed about 20 yards from me, near the stream. I figured I had time before the dogging started so grabbed my slingshot and took a few shots at the grouse, hitting it once but doing no harm. It finally flew away. I walked back to my chair through the crunching leaves, farted loudly, blew my nose and realized I had to piss.

So I walked a few steps, cleared the noisy leaves with my feet and started my piss. About halfway through I heard a noise, looked over my right shoulder and saw a 6-point buck moseying down the hill, about 40 yards away. I watched until he walked behind a tree, turned around and took my rifle off my shoulder, then shot him as he came out the other side of the tree.

It wasn’t until an hour later that I realized I hadn’t even done up my fly.

That reminds me of my favorite movie of my childhood.Fess Parker as Davy Crockett/King of the wild Frontier.The scene early in the movie at the turkey shoot,where Davy has only one hole in his target after firing 2 rounds. The judge goes off "Well I've never seen such shooting!! 2 bullets through the same hole!!!"I've done some fine shots but nothing like that.2 experiences here;1st,I was on a lease in New Braunfels,Tx. about 200 yds from the feeder when a whole flock of wild turkeys came out of the woods into the pipeline. I was shooting a 260 Rem. Scout. I took the 1st one at that distance + when they exploded + went every where I emptied the magazine into the birds in the air as they were flying towards me.I nailed 4 out of 5 on the wing.I LOVE the scout concept;I use it to shoot skeet.My 2nd was when I was out just playing around out in the pastures with my Marlin 39,22 LR. I was out in the middle of nowhere/somewhere when this covey of Quail came at me,REALLY! They did'nt fly,they just circled around me + were moving to beat the band. I had this crazy thought go through my mind about the Indians attacking the covered wagons in a circle,because that was exactly what it looked like;here was the kid with his lever rifle while being encircled by a whole covey of quail running like Jesse Owens around me.That rifle holds 18 rounds but I was laughing so hard I never hit a one. I would'nt take for that experience.I don't know if one calls this one best or worst.Never hit a thing but had a good time + memory.

Best rifle shots:
-When I was at Texas Tech and my father came nearby and invited me turkey hunting. I always hunt turkey with a shotgun, but had gone out exploring with a dog and a rifle as others were napping. The dog “flushed” a Tom from a creekbed below us. The shot was safe and dropped the Tom from the air with my 7-08.

-Almost exactly a year ago, I shot a red stag in Argentina at 450. I had twisted my knee early on in the rocks and was in pain. We were dropped off and were to walk back to the lodge. We saw the stag bedded and then he got up. I was using the camp gun. I shot first at about 400 and it was just over his back. The second was the same hold at 450 with the same hold. He dropped like a rock. I prefer to get closer, but was not in the condition to do so with my knee.

Worst:
-A doe for meat over a feeder. 70-75 yards. Clean miss then poor hit. I had to dispatch her with close up. It was my own gun. Rather terrible.

I was on a guided antelope hunt in Wyoming a few years ago. We were driving on a two track and spotted a coyote loping away at a 45 degree angle to us. The coyote was quite a distance away. I bailed out of the truck with my custom 257 weatherby. The other guys in the truck said “you ain’t going to shoot at that coyote are you”.
I got down on a Harris bipod and one shot dropped the coyote as it loped away. A laser range finder fount the shot to be 510 yards.

Back when I was in High School, both my brother and I shot 22 for several teams, local YMCA and ROTC, both indoor and outdoor.
He owned a Win 52D with 1/8min adjustments; I always settled for a club rifle.
On paper, he was always the better shot.

At home, I shot my Dad's old Western Field rifle, which I had drilled, tapped and installed a 4X Weaver scope on when I was 14. I shot rats, crows, groundhogs and about anything I could with it.

We were out back (40 acre field) one day and saw grackles out in the freshly tilled field. I challenged him to shoot them (they were out about 150 yards) using only hold-over and Kentucky windage. He took one on the left and I took one on the right. We fired at the same time.Turns out he had no idea how to estimate either. His shot landed about 20 feet short. On the other hand, I was accustomed to making adjustments and plugged one right in the head.

I still have that rifle...I see a rust bluing project in my future.

Best.. maybe the most interesting. Woodchuck hunting. I was 16-17 years old. We did a lot of walking from field break to field break. The shots were usually less that 150yds. Me and Pop and a friend are walking along a long field toward a slope. Down the hill is covered in brush and 6 or 7 ft small shrubs at the bottom. Up in the top of one of them is a woodchuck. I have never seen a woodchuck off the ground before. I had to stand up to take a shot. I had Pops Win 670 carbine in 30/06. Easy shot. Pop said he wished he had a camera.

My best one was nothing but s*** house luck. A few years ago, me and my Grandson went squirrel shooting in the foothills. He had his new Ruger 10-22, I brought along my Ruger Blackhawk in 45 Colt just for fun.
Late in the afternoon, he spotted a den about 400 yards away. There was one squirrel perched on top standing straight up. I gave him all the front sight plus a little more and held 3 squirrels into the wind. I fired the 45 and waited..." WHOP!"... he disappeared. We walked up and found him with a 45 hole right through his chest. The rangefinder indicated 409 yards.
The kid's eyes were as big as saucers. I acted like John Wayne the rest of the day.

Best and luckiest are different.

Best- Around 96, we were in Africa. I shot 3 cattle killing lions. We had the skulls by the skinning area. African crows were all over them. I walked over with my 22 Hornet. They all flew. As they flew by, I shot one. No one could believe it. They were sure it was a fluke until another flew by and I dumped him.

For whatever it is worth, I had practiced a lot in those days on moving targets.

Luckiest- In 97, I was sheep hunting in China. Tibetan gazelle was on the agenda. These gazelle ran across this valley and stopped. God knows how far they were. They were FAR. Maybe 1,000 yards. I could only see them because they stopped on snow. The guides were saying shoot shoot. I figured WTF. I threw a Hail Mary out there. Much to my surprise, a gazelle dropped. If I tried that a thousand more times, I could not replicate that shot.

On the subject of lucky but not a shot. We were golfing one day. As I walked back to my cart, I noticed a rather large water moccasin on the far side of the cart. I picked up a stick and threw it underhand trying to scare the snake off. Much to my surprise, the point of the stick struck the snake right behind the head and killed it. I could not replicate that if I tried 10,000 times.

Under the heading of Snake - Best Shot - I was out sighting-in my .308 Win west of Jal, New Mexico in the 70s. I found a fairly good spot with a bank. I walked off about 100 yards, set an anti-freeze jug and walked back towards my vehicle. When I stopped, something caught my eye, and I found a 4" baby rattlesnake in the dirt. Just a small button was on his tail. I backed up about 5 yards, aimed over the scope and fired. Vaporized just his head, that was about the size of half your little finger nail.

Another Worst Shot (Deer) - I was riding with friends on that ranch near Van Horn. We were basically done for the afternoon and driving back towards camp. Someone saw a small group of mule deer in the distance; maybe 400 yards. I was riding shotgun and hadn't filled my tag, so when they stopped I bailed out and laid the rifle over the hood. The deer were moving off slowly. I figured a hold and lead, and hoped for the best. I didn't see much reaction, but one of the guys thought I might have hit the buck. We got back in and drove around towards them, watched them go over the hill, and sped-up to try and get around them. We finally spotted them again. The does moved away quickly, but the buck seemed confused. I got out and followed him up the hill until he gave me a shot. When I walked up to him it was obvious why he didn't keep up with the does. My first shot had taken out both eyes, blinding him. It nearly made me sick to think how he had struggled to keep up, and had traveled maybe a half mile with that handicap. I was just glad we were able to maintain contact with him and finish it. I haven't done anymore "Hail Marys" since that time. If I don't kill game quickly and humanely, I'm a failure as a hunter.

Not mine but a buddy who told me this one after returning from WW2.He came out to the farm + his kid nephew came out to see the BIG WAR HERO,his uncle;although he had only been a CB.The kid wants to see him shoot (being a war hero + all)+ hands him a little 22 single shot,with no front sight.Dee was chewing some gum at the moment + took it out + used that as a front sight.He saw an owl about 150 yds away + took the shot.Then he said,"It don't count unless I hit him in the head."Well guess what ? He did. Then the kid asked him to do it again.......Nope,that's enough for one day.

If by best you mean luckiest......I shot a doe at about 50 yds. with a 12g slug open sights running across me and it dropped in its tracks. Went to see why and it looked as if a neurosurgeon had opened the top of its skull and removed the brain. The only damage was the silver dollar sized hole in the top of its skull. I had fun back at camp telling everyone I planned it that way to avoid losing any meat. I'll post a pic if I can find it.

Best was more like the easiest with a twist on my luck.
While I was hunting white tails about 5 miles from my house. After a slow 5 minute walk just after first light (legal time 6:30) I found my spot and sat down in a rotten log at the edge of a mature pine stand not really as pumped up as usual for this, the first day of rifle buck. I took my glasses off for a minute or two and smoked a cigarette. Then I hear them shooting at my friends' property several hundred yards away. 8 shots in a row rang out and nothing appeared at first for several minutes. Then what appeared to be a doe came walking out at a brisk pace. Got the rifle up and when the sun hit her(him) an antler appeared plain as day showing 3 points, which was all that was required to be legal and so I took the safety off and muttered stop, stop because he picked up the pace a bit and the thicket was only another 30 yards ahead of him. As if he heard me, he stopped right in front of me at about 85 yards on the far side of a shallow wide creek. I let the .280 Rem fly and he kicked like a p/o'd mule and ran toward me just left of where I was sitting. Right after I shot I saw a flash of white to his right. I knew I made a good hit and wondered where he had gone since he seemed to have disappeared. So, I headed in the direction where I had last seen him and there he was just down a steep incline no more than 20 yards away. Had him field dressed by 7:30. The body was huge but the left side antler was nothing more than several nubs. The other one had the tip broken off. Still, meat in the freezer so I was happy.
The twist: Then right after I finished gutting a guy appeared to my right and we chatted and said he got one. We teamed up with his truck and he got the nicest 8 pointer I've seen in several years. It too was a big body deer. At that I point I realized that had I waited and watched another few minutes that 8 pointer may have stood up. Had to be his brother who stopped to say hey, did you hear those idiots shooting over there?

Worst shot.
I had injured my back several years ago and decided to take the Colt King Cobra for deer. I walked my usual spots and saw a couple does then headed atop a ridge and there were two does lying down with a 6 point buck off to my left. I fired from under 50 yards (too embarrassed to say how much under) and he did nothing. Then while I pulled the hammer back he hid his head behind a big oak tree with his body fully exposed and I squeezed another one off a bit lower thinking I overshot. He dipped a little then ran into the thickets. A couple other hunters helped search for blood trail and all we found was a swatch of hair about a half inch wide, probably just grazed his back.

Worst: Reedbuck. My nemesis. Can't seem to make a good shot on one. Instead, I hit them too far back, which prompts another hurried bad shot and I basically chew a soft animal to death with multiple bad shots. Horrible. Common and Chandler's -- same thing. Felt terrible both times.

Best: Buffalo. Toss up between two. Last year in the mountains. A sheer drop off and no way to get closer. Bull was measured 210 yards, 35 degrees downhill. I said no. PH encouraged me to get on sticks sitting and see. It was rock solid and felt I could take the top of the near lung and bottom of the off. Shoot that rifle regularly out to 300. Was rock solid, took the shot and went exactly as planned. Herd ran over the ridge, he ran down and then the bellow. I'll never take a 200 yard first shot on a buffalo again, though.

Buffalo II: Quartering away at about 50 yards. First shot rocked him, almost went down, but recovered and ran. Was running right to left at about 75-80 yards. Swung on him trying for a brachial plexis or neck shot and knew I'd swung too far when the trigger broke. He went down DID. Couldn't find the second bullet hole. It entered right at the base of the boss and brained him.

Worst shot was at a cow jumping over the moon. I missed her. Overshot. Best shot was shooting the bull here right now.