Greatest Shot Ever--A Thread--Post Your's

My best shot on a deer was the second deer I ever killed. He was running straight away at about 50 yards. Shooting off hand, I put a rifled slug from my old Mongomery Ward 12 gauge right into the base of his skull. Probably more luck than skill but it was right where I put the bead.

Now days I just watch them run.
 
Best shot deer hunting was archery hunt on the ranch family used to have in SW Colo with my soon to be wife tagging along watching. Up flies a grouse and drilled it with a broadhead midair. A tasty dinner and I was a conquering hero for an afternoon.

Never made a great shot on a deer that I recall….lol
 
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I have had two crazy good (lucky) shots.

First was in Alaska, my friend and I were fishing with a local friend. The local had his .454 Casull and I had a S&W .44. The whole trip he kept joking about filling the front sight off so it didn’t hurt as bad when a bear shoved it up my butt. Well we ran into a grouse and grouse season was open. We were way back in the bush and some grilled grouse in our ramen sounded good. The local pulls his 454 and aims for the head at about 25 yards. His first shot was maybe 2 inches left of the birds head. His next shot was maybe 1 inch right of its head. I was giving him a ton of crap and he was getting mad. He said his shots were close enough to kill a bear. He said my shot had to be perfect. I drew and shot in less than a second from the hip. Really just messing around. The grouses head simply disappeared. The local guy simply walked over to clean the bird. and never said anything about me packing the 44 again. My friend quietly whispered that he had no idea I was that good of a shot. I whispered back that I wasn’t. Total luck.

The next was this past dove season. It was hot and almost no birds were moving. A huge mosquito got me a flew out in front of my son and I just hovering there big and full of my blood. My son and I are the only ones in the field and he was laughing at me. I decided to shoot the mosquito with the shotgun. The MFer was hovering about 12 feet up and 12 feet out. I told my son to watch the mosquito. When I shot it disappeared. Now the funny part. 30 yards out two doves flew into the shot pattern and dropped. We never saw them and I definitely didn’t hit them. They simply committed suicide and flew into my shot. My son couldn’t believe it.
 
No offense meant to anyone but should we be calling these our “best” shots? Luckiest shot? Or shot I probably shouldn’t have taken but turned out great?

Edit: maybe I’m being too uptight but the amount of wounding that I’m aware of since the beginning of Montana rifle has been intense this year.
I was thinking the same and I'll just call those shots luck and they were dumb enough that I don't really talk about em.
 
At work responding to an injured deer complaint. Arrived to see the deer with a broken leg. Couple dozen onlookers along a busy highway. Deer started running right to left at 250 yards. Folded her with .243 100 gr. partition . At work responding to an injured moose on I-89. Arrived to find a bull with a broken leg running back and forth across north bound and south bound lanes. Finally got a chance at a safe shot as he was running flat out across the median with a ledge behind him. Again. Dozens of onlookers and a high school kid doing a ride- along with me. Folded the bull cleanly with the .243 with 100 gr. Partitions.
 
At work responding to an injured deer complaint. Arrived to see the deer with a broken leg. Couple dozen onlookers along a busy highway. Deer started running right to left at 250 yards. Folded her with .243 100 gr. partition . At work responding to an injured moose on I-89. Arrived to find a bull with a broken leg running back and forth across north bound and south bound lanes. Finally got a chance at a safe shot as he was running flat out across the median with a ledge behind him. Again. Dozens of onlookers and a high school kid doing a ride- along with me. Folded the bull cleanly with the .243 with 100 gr. Partitions.
Couple dozen onlookers and right off the highway?!? I think I’ve been in that unit….
 
A couple of years ago I decided to take my wife to fill a deer tag. Had 2 little kids at the time and that day we had a baby sitter so we were going to take advantage of it and blast the first decent deer we saw to fill her tag because we were about out of sausages. Sure enough we found a 3pt mule deer.

We had my 338 rum that I had put alot of time into that year prepping and getting dialed for longer shots. Well there she was getting layed down and all dialed up ready to blast this buck at 450 or so when I looked across at a ridge and saw 5 coyotes cruising along. I thought to myself "huh", so I held up my rangefinder, and again, "huh". I told her hang on so I whirled the spotter their direction and sure enough they were 5 wolves.

Out of my selfish nature, that hunt turned into a wolf hunt for me. They were 600 or so when I first saw them and they were headed quartering away just loping along but at a fairly good pace. By the time I was able to scramble and get set up on the rifle all of them were all over the hill top aside from the last one. I ranged it at 848 as it was loping away just about over the top. I dialed for 900 and got settled in. I watched it in my crosshairs as it got to the top of the hill and crested over. I thought to myself that was it, he's gone, when he stopped. He was actually over the precipist of the hill and I could only see the top 2/3 of its back when i let er rip with nothing but a hope and a prayer. BTW there was a further hillside behind it, so it was not technically a skylined shot, either way still probably not the best scenario. My wife was watching through the spotter and before I was able to regain my sight picture I heard her say "you got him!" I could see bits and pieces of fur and tail over the hilltop spinning around and just couldnt believe my eyes.

Believe it or not there was a perfect 300 grain berger shaped hole in the crease right behind the right shoulder and ive got pics to prove it...somewhere. I will say it was intentional but there was a significant amount of divine intervention involved to make a shot that I will never again be able to duplicate.

That night a buddy came over and we made some wolf blackstrap nachos. 🤣
 
Two.

Redwing black bird on the fly with a Daisy BB gun. I could see the bb fly and led it perfectly. This was the only one out of thousands of attempts, but it was amazing.

The other one, which was also the worst- I hit a young rabbit on the run with a pellet gun. This was at the stupid young age of just shoot anything you see for fun, and it’s the moment that ended that for me. It was a hell of a shot looking back, but it’s still one of the worst feelings I can ever remember happening.
 
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Walking down a road one day I look over and see a bull standing there at about 60 yards pull up the muzzy and send it. I missed dad pulls his up and smokes the bull it takes off running and stops at about 150 yards. I’m reloaded by now and pull up and shoot again hit that bull right at the base of the head he drops like a sack of potatoes and rolls 20’ down an embankment. I looked at dad and go I got him. I have dad the AVB treatment before the gram was a thing lol
 
No offense meant to anyone but should we be calling these our “best” shots? Luckiest shot? Or shot I probably shouldn’t have taken but turned out great?

Edit: maybe I’m being too uptight but the amount of wounding that I’m aware of since the beginning of Montana rifle has been intense this year.
You miss 100% of the shots you don’t take.
 
A long time ago now, back when SE Montana actually had a lot of mule deer. I had two doe tags in my pocket.

I took a shot at a doe standing broadside at something around 300 yards. I sat down for the shot. The shot hit her in the neck, dropping her instantly. That emboldened me to take the same shot again at another doe. I shot off one of her forelegs. She managed to get away on three legs onto land that I did not have permission to hunt. That more or less closed my interest in seeing how long a shot I could make.

I prefer to remember the time when I had a b tag for either sex whitetail in my pocket. I made a long sneak on three does bedded in some wheat stubble. I was trying to decide which one offered the best angle. After deciding, I crawled a bit more to get clearance over the vegetation for the shot. Then I notice something to my right. It was a young whitetail buck bedded about twenty feet away. The wind was howling, and if I had crawled a few more feet, he's have smelled me. He was so close that his image was fuzzy in a 4 power scope. I managed to hit him where I wanted to.
 
My dad is the lucky shot king. Before I was born when he was a teenager, he was taking some antelope hunters out, mind you this was a long time ago probably 60 years ago. Hunter ethics weren’t something they knew or cared about. He said they would drive around with the hunters in the pickup bed shooting at antelope. They never saw a warden and didn’t even bother to ask permission on the neighbors because no one cared back then. Sometimes he turned the wind shield wipers on to get all the casings off the wind shield. Anyway one day the hunters had about ran themselves out of ammo. A herd of antelope was standing on the horizon. One of them challenged my dad. “I bet you can’t hit one of those antelope way out there.” Dad had my grandpas old 1894 Winchester 30-30 lever action with the octagonal barrel. He said he jumped out pointed it at the horizon, gave it some Kentucky windage and fired one off. He said he and the hunters couldn’t believe it when one of the antelope dropped over stone dead.
 
I am not really that good of a shot, however, I think this one might be in the running for one of the best free hand shots EVER!!
So were you offhand aiming for a mouth shot from 125 yards out or were you aiming for the vitals and your shot about 2-3' from where you were aiming? I'm either not impressed with your decision making, your shooting skills, or most likely, I'm not impressed with either.

I've messed up in the field like we all have. But this isn't the sort of think I like to see bragged about. It should be discouraged.
 
So there I was in Colorado's rodentia infested backcountry. At least 6 miles deep, no inReach or nuthin. While climbing to a 12,500 ft mountain pass, I was ambushed by two whistle pigs. The first one charged at me full speed, leaping across scree like a cheetah chasing down a gazelle, its incisors gnashing at air and frothing at the mouth, pining for the sweet taste of human flesh. I stumbled backwards, raising my grandpappy's 22LR, and fired wildly one handed in panic. The furry mound came to a screeching stop not two inches from my toes.

I had nary a second to breath a sigh of relief when another furious Marmota flaviventris specimen leapt from my left out of a nearby alpine spruce. Herbivores my ass! These little SOBs were out for one thing and one thing only. Blood. My subsonic 22LR rang out once more, echoing lightly off the surrounding red shale cliffs. Another lifeless fur ball piled up at my feet. Lucky? Maybe. Greatest shot(s) of my life? Definitely.
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So there I was in Colorado's rodentia infested backcountry. At least 6 miles deep, no inReach or nuthin. While climbing to a 12,500 ft mountain pass, I was ambushed by two whistle pigs. The first one charged at me full speed, leaping across scree like a cheetah chasing down a gazelle, its incisors gnashing at air and frothing at the mouth, pining for the sweet taste of human flesh. I stumbled backwards, raising my grandpappy's 22LR, and fired wildly one handed in panic. The furry mound came to a screeching stop not two inches from my toes.

I had nary a second to breath a sigh of relief when another furious Marmota flaviventris specimen leapt from my left out of a nearby alpine spruce. Herbivores my ass! These little SOBs were out for one thing and one thing only. Blood. My subsonic 22LR rang out once more, echoing lightly off the surrounding red shale cliffs. Another lifeless fur ball piled up at my feet. Lucky? Maybe. Greatest shot(s) of my life? Definitely.
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You’re just lucky they weren’t otters. Not stopping those with a 22
 
So there I was in Colorado's rodentia infested backcountry. At least 6 miles deep, no inReach or nuthin. While climbing to a 12,500 ft mountain pass, I was ambushed by two whistle pigs. The first one charged at me full speed, leaping across scree like a cheetah chasing down a gazelle, its incisors gnashing at air and frothing at the mouth, pining for the sweet taste of human flesh. I stumbled backwards, raising my grandpappy's 22LR, and fired wildly one handed in panic. The furry mound came to a screeching stop not two inches from my toes.

I had nary a second to breath a sigh of relief when another furious Marmota flaviventris specimen leapt from my left out of a nearby alpine spruce. Herbivores my ass! These little SOBs were out for one thing and one thing only. Blood. My subsonic 22LR rang out once more, echoing lightly off the surrounding red shale cliffs. Another lifeless fur ball piled up at my feet. Lucky? Maybe. Greatest shot(s) of my life? Definitely.
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This is pure gold. Short, sweet, Capstick-esque with echos of @neffa3 ‘s classic HT saga. 10/10.

We need more comedy writers around here.
 
Daisy BB gun 100 ft or so, anna's hummingbird siting on a fence. I was maybe 8 and didn't think there was any chance I could actually hit it. When it tipped over dead about 2 sec after the first shot I damn near cried. I felt absolutely terrible and didn't touch that bb gun again for several months.

Second one was in college, she was 28, I was 19. I was a helluva fun weekend but she eventually came to her senses.
 
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