"T" it was that extra male part shrinking that I was referring to....lol
No matter, that was a great trophy.
-------------------- Trying to make a difference Psalm 37:4 Roy L "Mudd" Williams TGMM- Family Of The Bow Archery isn't something I do, it's who I am! The road to "Sherwood" makes for an awesome journey. Posts: 12024 | From: Ashland,Missouri | Registered: Mar 2003
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I've told this one before. It was 1972 and we were hunting Aberdeen Proving Grounds, MD and my sponsor and partner told me this was the last night since we'd be goose hunting from Saturday on. The last hour this 6 point with a high white rack was walking left to right at an estimated 45 yards. I was a hot shot field archery shooter so what the heck. My point on was 45 yards with the 50# Howatt Super Diablo so I put the point a little in front of his nose and let fly. I watched the arrow with pink fletch arc and drop into his chest. One of those things you don't forget.
-------------------- PBS Reg member 1973 Maryland Bowhunters Society Traditional Bowhunters of Maryland Heart of Maryland Bowhunters NRA Posts: 5063 | From: Finksburg, MD | Registered: Aug 2008
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My most unbelievable hunting shot was also part of my most remarkable hunt on November 12th 2005 in northern Delaware on my family's property. My family and I been playing cat & mouse with a 10 pointer on our property literally since bow opener on September 1st!! My father, my brother and I went into the woods about 2:00PM that afternoon. We made our way down the "Old Road" That cuts through our property. My brother was the first to cut off to his stand, then my father and then I made my way over the hill to my stand next to a overgrown thicket field. Just prior to me climbing up my tree I heard noise coming from the thicket. I barely had time to nocked an arrow before a decent looking 8 pointer emerged from the side of the thicket looking as if he just been whooped and thrashed. He was gasping for air even. As he made his way up above me on the hill, as hard as it was, I made a decision not to shoot. I sat there watching the 8 pointer and was amazed when he started making a scrape within 30 yards of my position. When all of a sudden he let out, what later I found out to be a loud bellow followed by a series of grunts. Then the thicket "erupted" with noise, (limbs breaking, leaves rustling and grunts),. The 10 pointer came crashing through the edge of the thicket with his ears pinned to the back of his head. He stopped only 10-12 feet on the other side of the tree that I was getting ready to climb up in. He didn't move for what seemed like hours and I thought he was going to hear the thumping of my heart!! He was facing right at the tree that I was on the other side of. I waited for him to turn or something,,,and waited. He then reached up with his rear leg to scratch his face. At that moment I came to full draw and leaned out from the tree that was in between us. I took aim on the one side of his chest. I never wanted to take a frontal shot on a deer, especially a buck of this caliber but I had confidence that I could place my arrow just inside the shoulder blade. As the buck swung back around he noticed something was different but it was to late!! My Zwickey was on its way. It literally knocked him on his rear. He then went crashing back into the thicket with my arrow buried 3/4 of the way in his chest. I went back and got my father & brother and second guessing my decision to make a frontal shot on him. We gave him a little more then a hour before taking up the blood trail. It was more then easy to follow. All of us noticed he was heading for the creek that boarders our property. My dad shaking his head more and more for taking a frontal shot. We got within 40-50 yards of the creek as we was crawling on our hands & knees through some thick stuff following the blood trail when all of a sudden we heard a loud splash just ahead of us. All of us made a b-line for the creek. We got there just in time to see the buck emerge from the water on the other side. He was hurt bad. All I could see was his shoulders on up through a crotch of a tree. As I was drawing my arrow back I can hear my dads voice whispering to me, his to far, let him lay over night, we will find him. I released my Zwickey tipped arrow and everything went into slow motion. My arrow blew the dust off the crotch of that tree and crashed into the spine at the base of the 10 pointers neck!! He went straight down sliding back into the creek!! The next thing I heard was "I be damned" coming from my dad. The shot was 45 yards and shot from my 55# Martin Hunter. We still talk about that shot as if it was yesterday. Thanks for taking the time to read.
Posts: 510 | Registered: Apr 2013
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There have been a few more than three over the years and it's hard to pick what's best.
Once a buddy and I were checking fences on the ranch where we worked. I was carrying my bow and was ready for anything that beautiful spring day.
As we moved along a small spring creek that ran up through a green grass meadow ground squirrels would occasionally pop up along the creek bank. They'd grab a quick peek and take off across the green headed for burrows in the bordering sage.
After seeing this happen the third time I decided to take action. When the next squirrel showed his little head over the creek bank I tapped my buddy on the shoulder and as I swung my bow around square with the target I whispered to him to "watch this".
As the squirrel headed for cover I swung the bow up and was quickly "on" the squirrel. No need to hesitate I added a little lead and let the arrow slip.
I think I knew it immediately. You know, that feeling when it all comes together just perfect and you just know nothing will come between the arrow and the target.
It seemed like the arrow was flying in slow motion as it sailed toward the racing squirrel. And of a sudden the arrow and squirrel were all a blur in one confused mess of motion.
My buddy was jumping up and down and yelling while he slapped me on the back. I just smiled... a real big smile.
We stepped off the shot at 65 long strides from where I shot to where the squirrel died.
Fun thread. I was deer hunting last year and took my bride with me for an evening hunt. We didn't see jack, but got blown about 30 minutes before dark from an unseen deer. After that we decided to head back to the truck. As we were walking back WE spotted a rabbit about 50 yards ahead and all she said was "No". I just laughed and kept walking. I'd already brought a few home which she wasn't thrilled about. As we closed the distance I lost sight of the rabbit and then it appeared in a flash to the thicket. Didn't even think about it, drew, released, Smack! About a 30 yard poke. Best fur yet.
Posts: 1264 | From: Kansas | Registered: Dec 2012
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My first deer in 1976. I had a big doe come into about 30 yards from my tree stand. I pulled back my Gamemaster and concentrated on the center of her chest. I released the arrow. I heard a smack and she did a somersault in the air and fell dead. I was a little shocked. What about the blood trailing etc..I went down to look at her and couldn't find the arrow in her chest. Then I noticed the arrow sticking out of the back of her head. When I replayed the shot in my head I remember seeing her swing her head back in front of her chest to nip some grass. Shortest tracking job I've ever had.
-------------------- Black Canyon Longbow 62" 60lbs Blacktail Recurve 62" 55lbs - 29" Assenheimer 66" 63lbs - 29" G 21:20 God was with the lad. He lived in the wilderness and became an archer. Posts: 61 | From: Oklahoma | Registered: Feb 2013
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My friend Joe Weed (osagetree), invited me down for a weekend hunt on public land. It was October 2006. I had been looking forward to this hunt for weeks. As the time got closer, the temps kept rising. The forecast for the weekend called for 90's. I'm a cold weather person and hunting with temps in the 90's almost kept me home.
Joe said come on man, if nothing else we'll kill some time and just visit.
The first few sits were uneventful, and we were getting discouraged. So on the last morning, Oct.6 (my Mom's birthday), Joe took me in to one of his favorite spots. He had a lock-on way up high in a Hickory, I believe. Got in and settled. It was about 80 degrees at sunup. I herd a slight rustle behind me.
I was up about 25 feet in this tree, and the ground behind me sloped down quickly to a small gravel bottom creek. The rustle I kept hearing sounded like something dragging in gravel.
When it got light enough to see, the first thing I saw was antler tines moving.
There was a buck bedded in the creek. Right on the gravel bar. Well that made sense. It was a lot cooler down there, but I had walked right past him on the way in. Things just seemed a little odd. He wasn't bedded like they normally do. He was laying on his side, and kind of thrashing at times.
He changed positions a couple times and I could tell he wasn't too healthy. I thought maybe he got hit by a car or wounded by another hunter.
I thought about getting down and getting closer and putting him out of his misery, but it was prime time and Joe was doing a slow sneak in a big arc to try to nudge something my way.
All this went on for several hours, then he got up on his feet. He had a pretty decent rack once I could see the whole thing. It looked like he was heading away. I had to make a decision. It was a long shot, at an animal that was obviously suffering. The direction he was heading was thick and brushy.
I was shooting an RER Vortex at the time. I shot it pretty dang well most of the time. I had to try.
The shot was every bit of thirty five yards out and down about 40-45 feet from my elevation. I thought NO WAY! Next thing I knew the arrow was arcing in beautiful flight. He was quartering hard away and the arrow entered at in front of his left hip and buried about 3/4 of its length into his vitals.
He dropped and kicked a couple times and laid still.
Joe arrived some tome later and I directed him to my buck. He about crapped his pants. Couldn't believe my first trad kill was a shot that long.
The buck was sick with Blue tongue desease.
Christ died to save me, this I read and in my heart I find a need of Him to be my Savior By Aaron Shuste
TGMM Family of the Bow Posts: 8087 | From: Hartville, Ohio | Registered: Dec 2005
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A year ago I got my new Toekle Whip. I unpacked it and set up a knock and had 8-10 shots that evening with it before it got too much for me and I had to take it for an evening hunt. Sure enough I come across a 140lb boar feeding on a cow carcase in some scrub. I sneak in to 10 yards. Its quartering away from me perfect. I draw and release and see the arrow fly what looks like a true shot. The boar takes one step into the scrub then just seems to stand there. I nock another arrow and wait for him to come out or for something to happen. Nothing does. I creep up and touch his leg. he's as dead as they come just slumped up in and upright position. Id never seen a pig die that quick.
Posts: 203 | From: New Zealand | Registered: Oct 2008
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I'm an extremely conservative shot (too much so, I'm sure) so I don't have many.
Not amazing other than I happened to connect on a very inattentive starling about 4 decades ago.
Buddies were shooting starlings with shotguns. I showed up with a Bear B Mag. A flock was too high for the scatterguns so I launched a try. It seemed that the entire flock of hundreds saw my arrow coming except for one hapless bird near the tail end of the flock.
That male starling ended up with an arrow between the beak and the eye and it seemed his neck was a stretched out a bit when I fetched him. The shotgunners were only slightly more amazed than I was.
I'm not proud of a couple other shots that would have made this list had I made them. One involved a running antelope and another a small white-tail buck when I was 17. Neither animal was touched and I learned important restraint lessons on both.
-------------------- If the mind wanders, so too will the arrow.
Member of various archery organizations. Posts: 5890 | From: Kentucky | Registered: Jan 2004
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In the late 80's I had a great spot to hunt in mid Michigan. 300 acres all to myself.
One area was a pine plantation in rolling hills. Mature oaks were scattered among the pines leaving small openings in the dense evergreens. This was a prime breeding area loaded with tabletop size scrapes and big rubs. It was mid November.
Friday morning I climbed into a giant oak with big horizontal branches. No tree stand, just standing on a couple large branches. About mid morning a nice 9 pt. came by trailing a doe and I double lunged him with a Zwickey out of my GFA Bighorn recurve. About a 15 yd. shot and he didn't go far.
Well Saturday evening I was in the same tree and not much happened till just before dark. The tending grunt of a buck broke the silence and they were headed right for me. First the doe, on the same trail I shot the 9 pt on the day before. A nice mature 8 pt.grunting right on her heels. I thought, "This is going to be a piece of cake, I mean, I just did this yesterday." Well instead of turning left the doe headed right and took of an a run, the buck running right behind her. I'M FACING THE WRONG WAY! So I jumped and spun a 180 while drawing my bow and when my feet hit the wood the arrow was gone.
My arrow hit the buck just before he disappeared thru a wall of pines.
Dark was coming on fast, so after about 10 minutes I got down and took up the trail. As soon as I got into the pines I found my arrow laying there without a lot of blood not 5 yds. from the hit. Looked like a shoulder hit for sure. It started to rain.
Fearing a long tracking job in the dark I ran and got the Coleman lantern and took up the trail.
He only made it 30 yds. Dead in 5 seconds. My shot was perfect behind the left shoulder, hitting the opposite shoulder popped the 2 blade out as he ran.
AS a side note, This is the reason I switched to a stick bow. 3 yrs. earlier I missed a giant buck straight below me. AT 1 YARD. Same group of pines.
That was the last time I ever shot a compound. Never shot one again.
-------------------- Tom Posts: 864 | From: holly,mi | Registered: Feb 2008
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Hunting in western Wyoming for jackrabbits one winter I happened on a weasel watching me intently from his hole.
The distance was about 15 yards. I pulled a cedar arrow from the quiver and laid it across the rest of my 82# Hill Big Five. The aim happened while the shaft was coming slowly across the rest and the release came as I touched anchor and my drawing arm came in line with the arrow.
The shot was a good one but the weasel had vacated his space. A small hole in the snow bank showed where my arrow had landed.
In just seconds the weasel reappeared. I slid a second arrow onto the string.
This shot would turn out to be exactly like the first one. The weasel wasn't there when the arrow got there.
Once again like the proverbial jack in the box the little guy popped up one more time and one more time I eased an arrow from the quiver at my back.
Bearing down like grim death I put a little extra will into this shot. My fingers slipped smoothly from the string and the arrow zipped toward the weasel.
But he had my number. One final time he watched the arrow come and one final time he ducked not to reemerge while I was there.
I moved forward to retrieve my arrows. At the entrance to the weasels tunnel I found one single small hole in the snow. All three of my shots had entered the same hole.
My most unbelieable shot happened this past January. It was still early morning and I was in the middle of texting my wife when our of nowhere two bucks come running by my stand. I manage to put my phone in my pocket and get on my feet. I grunted to stop the second and larger buck, then watched in despair as my arrow sailed over his back at 25 yards. It was a windy day so the buck just startled a bit but didn't bolt. But by the time I got the second arrow knocked the buck had started walking again… straight away from me. I could see his tines were well outside his ears and I begged God for another shot.
As I prayed he made a left hand turn and entered the last shooting lane...which I stepped off later at 4o yards. Right here...
I grunted again and he stopped again
I've heard guys talk about seeing the arrow in slow motion and that's the best way I know how to describe this shot. I watched the arrow arc through the air then drop perfectly into the bucks shoulder with a solid smack. I immediately knew it was a good hit as the buck lurched forward with his left leg looking somewhat limp. He was down in under 60 seconds. The longest shot I've ever attempted resulted in my best buck ever.
-------------------- Tim Salters
"But his bow remained steady, his strong arms stayed limber, because of the hand of the Mighty One." Genesis 49:24 Posts: 1129 | From: Colorado | Registered: Jan 2011
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