Hall of Shame II

[TrophyTracker]

What is the worst miss on a deer you have ever produced?

[tbone]

In my early days of bowhunting, I was shooting an old Darton compound and I carried three arrows. I shot all three at the same doe one evening, crazy thing is she never spooked and every time I shot she got a little closer. By the time she was a mere 20 yards I was so frazeled that I missed again, then to pour salt on the wound, she walked dirrectly below my stand, looked up at me as if to laugh, then just walked away. :o

[turkeyman]

Amen brother,ain`t we all been there.Thats why we keep coming back for more.Chad you started these halls of shame now it`s your turn to fess up.You know the old saying if you ain`t never missed either you haven`t sh
ot at much or your full of ---------------LOL::

Mike Rayano
Quaker Boy Pro Staff
Mossy Oak Pro Staff
S.C.

[TrophyTracker]

Yeah, that is the truth. I can't count my rifle misses, because in the way I was brought up hunting deer, we all used Remington pump rifles to "sweetspot" deer. We would either do drives or still-hunt in the big woods, and with that came the situation where all the shots were almost always running shots. Sweetspotting is finding a clear lane the deer is about to run through and send so muck lead into that lane, the deer has no choice to run through it. So my bullet to deer average is way off kilter, as I may have shot four shots to hit the deer twice, or slapped in my 10 shot clip and sawed a lane through the alder thicket with the first five, in order to use the second half of the clip for the actual buck.:D

The one that still haunts me is from about five years ago. I was hunting in Pa. with my gang, and about 2 mi. into our 3mi. hike, my sling broke and my gun started to fall. I reached down and caught it just in time, but semi Karate chopped the scope in the process. Well, it was too late to turn around, so I went to my rock that I was going to sit on at the end of the trail, anyway. We always just chill and look around on Opening day, so I just relaxed. About three hours later, I was about to doze off, when I happened to look up and see one of the largest sets of antlers I have ever seen, sticking out from each side of a small tree only 60yds away. As soon as the buck stepped out, I put the crosshairs on his ribs and squeezed. BANG. Deer just standing there. I figured he was dead and just didn't know it yet...

To make this story short, I was pulling my second empty clip from my gun, and watching him trot over the ridge about 150yds away. He was more dumbfounded than scared. He only put the afterburners on when the second guy started blasting at him. The people who saw him, put him in the high 170's to mid 180's.

I won't name what brand the scope was, but it rests on my Ruger 10/22 now. It was shooting about four ft. low and a foot to the left when I got back to the cabin and re sighted it in.

[loon]

about 6/7 years ago i was hunting a small lake with a 7mm that i borrowed which i now own. scoped in for 400 yards had a nice afternoon watch but didnt see anything.
the atv was about a 1/4 mile away up the road so when i called it a day was heading back to it and this doe came flying by me doing 100mph and i stood there thinking what the hay??? and then i seen why she was hightailing:eek: he was one of the biggest i have seen,
he put the brakes on 14 feet from me, honest we checked later.
gun up! face in scope couldnt find him:confused: still tuned in for 400 yards:o
all my scopes are raised now :rolleyes: loon

[tbone]

about 6/7 years ago i was hunting a small lake with a 7mm that i borrowed which i now own. scoped in for 400 yards had a nice afternoon watch but didnt see anything.
the atv was about a 1/4 mile away up the road so when i called it a day was heading back to it and this doe came flying by me doing 100mph and i stood there thinking what the hay??? and then i seen why she was hightailing:eek: he was one of the biggest i have seen,
he put the brakes on 14 feet from me, honest we checked later.
gun up! face in scope couldnt find him:confused: still tuned in for 400 yards:o
all my scopes are raised now loon

haha, I climbed down out of my tree stand one year, I had my rifle unloaded and strapped across my back, when I got down i turned around and was starring a very very nice buck in the eyes, no more than 20 yards, he had been walking up the trail the same time I was climbing down, if i would have sit 2 more minutes he would have walked right by me at 20 yards. Never saw that guy again.:mad:

[shaman]

Here I go telling on myself again.

It was about my 3rd year of bow hunting. I had a great set-up on the side of a ridge. All told I saw 5 buck that day. Finally one shooter got within range and. . . drat, he busted me. I was about 15 feet up the tree. He came and stood directly beneath me and snorted and stamped and made all kinds of ruckus for the better part of 5 minutes. I was wearing that new "Trebark" camo head to toe. I thought I was invisible-- close, but not quite. Anyhow I finally broke the stalemate by producing a series squirrel barks. The deer let down his guard and turned to walk away.

I went to pull back and the nock slipped off the string. The arrow fell of the rest and fell to the ground about 10 feet from him. Gone.

[loon]

stunk at the time but funny now though, eh gang :D
myself i hope i dont ever forget them cause thats what the hunt's all about..GREAT STORY'S ;)....loon

[TrophyTracker]

That's the only reason I go hunting: To get back to camp, to tell and listen to stories!:p

[Fan Club]

I've got one that parallels yours, Tbone.

It was my second year of bowhunting (1991). I got a deer my first year so a false sense of confidence had snuck along for the hunt. Back then I was shooting a Browning Black Knight round wheel bow set at about 55 lbs that probably barely topped 200 fps.

I was twenty feet up in Girard's Maple late one afternoon. (Don't all great hunting spots have nicknames?) A mature doe came down the hay field edge and under my tree. She stopped broadside at 17 yards but I got busted when I drew my bow. She was looking right at me. Now I had read that you should never shoot at an alert animal, but I had never been in this predicament before. The letoff on the bow was nonexistant and it wasn't long before my bicep was screaming in my ear to do something....it wasn't going to wait for me to make up my mind. I released the arrow and the doe dropped her spine like a swayback nag as the Thunderhead tipped Easton shaft cleared her back and stuck in the muddy field. She never moved a step. I calmly knocked another arrow and she proceded to stare at me. Well, I'm no fool so I'm going to aim low this time. I held steady and released the second arrow... and watched in amazement as she arched her back this time and the arrow went under her chest and joined it's quiver mate in the mud. Huh. The deer still hadn't moved or taken it's eyes off me. Third times a charm, right? I knocked the third arrow and this time I decided to move my aiming point to the front shoulder instead of the center of the deer and circumvent the gymnastics. I released the arrow and she instantly straightened her front legs and pushed back forcefully with her front feet as the arrow cleared her brisket like the proverbial shot across the bow. I'm sure I heard a squirrel laughing.

The doe had not moved from the same spot at that point but I can only surmise that she got bored with embarassing me as she finally loped off in no apparent hurry and certainly without worry. Did I just see that? Had I fallen asleep in the stand and dreamed it? One thing is for sure, the guys on Average Joe's dodgeball team would have been proud. I rubbed my eyes and took a peek. Sure enough, there were three fluorescent green vaned arrows sticking in the ground in a nice group. I sat there until dark with a smile on my face. After all, I'm a deer hunter...right?

[loon]

haha, I climbed down out of my tree stand one year, I had my rifle unloaded and strapped across my back, when I got down i turned around and was starring a very very nice buck in the eyes, no more than 20 yards, he had been walking up the trail the same time I was climbing down, if i would have sit 2 more minutes he would have walked right by me at 20 yards. Never saw that guy again.:mad:
:)


kinda off topic, but was getting up to put my gear together a few years back and just about ready to leave after 2 weeks in the bush and i heard this scraping??? looked over to my right and there he was :rolleyes: 10 point that is on my wall also..


here he is..
http://i215.photobucket.com/albums/cc57/terrybuck_2007/DSC02925-1.jpg

[tbone]

I've got one that parallels yours, Tbone.

It was my second year of bowhunting (1991). I got a deer my first year so a false sense of confidence had snuck along for the hunt. Back then I was shooting a Browning Black Knight round wheel bow set at about 55 lbs that probably barely topped 200 fps.

I was twenty feet up in Girard's Maple late one afternoon. (Don't all great hunting spots have nicknames?) A mature doe came down the hay field edge and under my tree. She stopped broadside at 17 yards but I got busted when I drew my bow. She was looking right at me. Now I had read that you should never shoot at an alert animal, but I had never been in this predicament before. The letoff on the bow was nonexistant and it wasn't long before my bicep was screaming in my ear to do something....it wasn't going to wait for me to make up my mind. I released the arrow and the doe dropped her spine like a swayback nag as the Thunderhead tipped Easton shaft cleared her back and stuck in the muddy field. She never moved a step. I calmly knocked another arrow and she proceded to stare at me. Well, I'm no fool so I'm going to aim low this time. I held steady and released the second arrow... and watched in amazement as she arched her back this time and the arrow went under her chest and joined it's quiver mate in the mud. Huh. The deer still hadn't moved or taken it's eyes off me. Third times a charm, right? I knocked the third arrow and this time I decided to move my aiming point to the front shoulder instead of the center of the deer and circumvent the gymnastics. I released the arrow and she instantly straightened her front legs and pushed back forcefully with her front feet as the arrow cleared her brisket like the proverbial shot across the bow. I'm sure I heard a squirrel laughing.

The doe had not moved from the same spot at that point but I can only surmise that she got bored with embarassing me as she finally loped off in no apparent hurry and certainly without worry. Did I just see that? Had I fallen asleep in the stand and dreamed it? One thing is for sure, the guys on Average Joe's dodgeball team would have been proud. I rubbed my eyes and took a peek. Sure enough, there were three fluorescent green vaned arrows sticking in the ground in a nice group. I sat there until dark with a smile on my face. After all, I'm a deer hunter...right?


I have to admit, I actually laughed out loud at that one. Good stuff. They sometimes are pretty dang smart, it seems anyway.

[Fan Club]

I've already posted my worst bow miss... here is the gun story-

I should start by noting that only shotguns are legal for deer in southern Michigan, no rifles allowed. Back in the mid 80s I was shooting a Remington 12 gauge 11-87 with open rifle sights. I was deadly with it out to close to 100 yards. Dad and I had a farm lease of 300 acres then with a dozen good natural ground blinds that we put up over the course of several seasons. They were all like small brushed in log cabins without a roof, we made them with chainsaw notched logs and the top log provided a rock solid rest. We lost the lease long ago, but I'm willing to bet some of them are still standing. To the hunt.

I had filled my doe tag the first week of the season and was hunting horns. Dad had a commitment the second weekend and couldn't hunt. Before he left he said, "Why don't you use my gun, it has a scope on it and will give you another 15 minutes of shooting light." Sounded reasonable enough to me. We had sighted in our guns together and I knew it was spot on at 100 yards. The next evening I was in my favorite blind facing north down a fencerow, overlooking a small bowl shaped field to my right that bordered a swamp. The wind was in my face and the sun at my back...perfect. The deer usually filtered into the small field, worked gradually west and hopped the fence into the larger corn field. There were already over twenty does and yearlings in the small field when a huge buck appeared at the swamp edge about 120 yards away. By his demeanor and body language, I could tell he was miffed that the rest of the deer were not in the large field yet. Before I could get the binoculars on him he broke into a run straight at me and stopped, quartering to me at 35 yards. His rack had so many points I couldn't count them all, had to be at least fourteen. I already had the gun up and was breathing hard and trying to remain calm. I put the crosshairs on his front shoulder. This is what all of the hard work and preparation were for. This moment. Exhaling slowly and with a good rest, I fired and the buck didn't move. What the...? I racked the Winchester pump gun and at the sound he sprinted back to the top of the hill where he first appeared and stopped and looked back at about 100 yards. I put the crosshairs just below the top of his shoulder this time to account for 6-8 inches of drop with a 1 oz slug at that distance and fired again. This time I saw dirt kick up at his feet and watched his flag disappear as he loped off into the pines. You gotta be kidding. I would have killed that buck with my gun and would probably be laying my hands on that rack by now! Heartbroke and disgusted are not strong enough words, although those weren't the words that I uttered.

The next morning I went to the range as any serious hunter would do. I put a target up at 50 yards and shot from the bench. Didn't even hit the 3x3 foot paper. I moved the target in to 25 yards and just nicked the lower left corner, over a foot left and eighteen inches low. My mind started to race, and now, in the broad daylight, I immediately conducted a visual inspection of the gun. It didn't take long before I spotted the damage on the scope. The top edge of the bell over the front objective was crushed down at an angle about a quarter of an inch. You couldn't have done a better job with a hammer.

In a revelation it all came rushing back in an instant, the way your mind will occasionally work. But this revelation was not accompanied by an angels' choir. Something evil was being evoked here. Back to nearly two weeks previous on opening morning. Dad was all geeked up for the opener, had uncased his unloaded gun and laid it diagonally across the tailgate of the truck. At the last minute, he remembered something else in the cab he wanted to bring and when he walked back down the side of the truck in the dark he clipped the gun barrel with his thigh and flipped the gun upside down in the farmer's driveway which was composed of large pieces of limestone, or "Railroad rock" as it's called around here. "Oh sh*t!, " he groaned. I recall giving him a mild reprimand at the time for violating one of his own rules, one he had instilled in me. Uncasing and loading your gun is always the last thing you do before heading afield. Nothing good can result from an uncased or prematurely loaded gun when emotions run high amidst a flurry of pre-hunt activity.

Needless to say I learned an important lesson that day. Always maintain and hunt with your own equipment. It bears repeating. ALWAYS hunt with your OWN equipment that you know, trust and have confidence in. Resist the urge to hunt with anything that is offered you, that may seem "better." I have lived by this rule for nearly 25 years now and have not allowed the opportunity for a sequel. Borrowing Dad's gun that weekend cost me the biggest buck of my life. In forty years of hunting, I still have not laid my eyes on a bigger buck in the wild. The irony that Dad hunted with the gun in that condition for nearly two weeks and never took a shot was not lost on me either. It easily could have been him that missed. But then I wouldn't have learned the lesson and probably wouldn't be relating the story now. So then it was my turn to say "Oh sh*t!"

Yes, it happened to me. Don't let it happen to you.