doublegunshop.com - home Forums General Discussion DoubleGun BBS @ doublegunshop.com Great Misses I Have Made

It's great to hear from all the guys who are sharing their momentous misses and screw-ups. This Thread is a wonderful way to relive some hunting memories during the winter doldrums.

Another one I won't forget happened on the first day of small game season when I was in college. Five high school buddies and I got together to begin the season on some local farms. Legal game was pheasants, rabbits, grouse, woodcock, and squirrel, but there were no grouse in this area. About mid-morning, we had just made a push through a small field of corn stubble without putting up any pheasants. We decided to move on to a small block of woods with lots of shagbark hickory, and then to another larger corn field. We were crossing a fenced pasture to get there. The dairy cows had it grazed down very short, so there was little cover. As the six of us marched across in a line, a rabbit bolted out of nowhere, crossing right to left in front of us.

Everyone started shooting at it, and the bunny seemed to pick up speed with each shot. We all had pumps or semi-autos plugged to three shot capacity. I was using my Dad's 16 gauge Model 870 pump. Sorry, but no doubles were involved in this story. So we all quickly emptied our guns. 18 shots went into the pasture, and to our astonishment, we all watched it run off through the barbed wire fence into another field of brush and weeds. We never touched a hair on that bunny rabbit. It was a spectacular group miss.

Afterwards, I calculated that with 18 shots fired, we put nearly a pound and a half of lead shot into that pasture in a matter of seconds. Some of the anti-lead shot advocates here would think the ground needed a Super Fund clean-up. Sadly, that farm where we spent many great days is a housing development now. But whenever I drive by it, I think of our amazing group miss.

Back a number of years ago a few of us from Calgary hunted late pheasants in Montana around the Conrad/Choteau area. The leader of our group was a small guy who liked to organize and control and had a passion for wild pheasants. We called him the 'Little General' to his face and he prided in it. He controlled the hunts, where we were going. when to get there. etc. I'm sure you all know this guy.... Well on one morning we were hurried out of bed, no breakfast just a big push from the Little General. Next to our motel was a drive though coffee hut and I stopped my truck to get a latte. It was taking a while and the Little General was in the truck behind me with a few hunters. Well I guess he was beside himself that I seemed to be in no hurry and it was taking a bit of time. I was told he nearly climbed through the front windshield with his cussing. We get to a big CRP field and set up along the edge with a few of us pushing from inside. No birds. Not a one. Those pheasant has a clock and when the clock ticked 8:00am they left the CRP for a valley of swathed but not harvested grain. A field we could not get permission on. We were 'only' twenty minutes late. I've never lived that down and when I now hunt with the Little General no lattes for me.

This thread is the most frivolously-entertaining thing I've read here. Shades of Ed Zern's old column in "Feel and Scream".

I love good storytelling, reading and writing it both, above most things. I can only echo Mister Hillis's perfect dessert analogy. Even though I've never devoured a shoemaker, I understand his expressed sentiment.

Serves you right. Latte ......... yuchhh! Anybody who puts cream or sugar in coffee has to be heathen, or at least close kin.

Just kiddin'.

My most humiliating misses occurred just this past weekend, in front of company. I have had few opportunities at geese in the past but on Saturday I called in three separate loners, two specks and a snow, and missed easy 30-40 yard shots at each with my ten bore hammer gun. Each time I thought I was on it, and couldn't believe that they didn't tumble. Are they flying faster than they appear and I missed behind, or slower than they appear and I missed in front? Immensely frustrating but at least my calling seems to have improved. Next season....

I have missed so many pheasants that I should have hit that they have blended into a derisive blur.

Does this count, one that I KNEW that I was going to miss.

It was the second drive of the day, and the beaters and walking guns were pushing out a wood. About 150 yards in front of me a cock bird rose up and then set a steady course at a reasonable height and directly towards me where I stood in the gun line.

It seemed to be taking an age to get to me, there was no reason why I should not kill it clean but I had so much time I was convinced I was going to overthink it and miss, no doubt to hoots of derision from the guns on either side of me.

I was rescued by a flicker of movement in my upper right peripheral vision. It was another cock bird curling in from my right front and about to cross just in front of me.

That galvanised me into action and it folded to my shot.

My nemesis was still incoming, but I was moving properly now with no time to overthink. They were my first true left and right (both dead in the air at the same time) at pheasants, not that there have been many since.

After shooting in a neighboring plantation's young pecan orchard a couple weeks ago (doves don't eat pecans but they had planted six rows of sunflowers between the rows of young pecan trees) someone asked me how well I shot. I replied that I had found ways to miss, that day, that I'd never known of.

So many misses, it's hard to know which one to pick. A couple standouts from this year include a kamikaze grouse that flushed off a steep hill side as I was stepping up onto a rock. The hill was steep enough that it took off maybe 20 ft away and at eye level. It must have seen Gus, because it twisted in midair and charged just over my head causing me to duck. I managed to get two shots off, including one from just a few feet away - but no feathers were touched.

My most egregious misses of the year were at pheasants, of course. Pheasants are big, fairly slow, and generally very much in the open, so missing them always seems more traumatic than missing a grouse or a dove, or a woodcock. They happened after a late afternoon hunt where the conditions were perfect, the birds were exactly where I expected them to be, and perfect dog work put up really easy shots. Big birds flushed, time slowed down, and each shot was perfect. In 47 minutes, I had a limit. I felt like I had a good grasp on pheasants this season. Two days later conditions were very similar but the birds were harder to find. Eventually, however, we found them, one at a time, again with great dog work, and three easy shots were presented, everything slowed down, three similarly perfect shots were taken, and three perfectly impossible misses resulted. No other birds were seen, and we went home empty handed. Pheasants can humble a guy that way.

i guess my most memorable miss(es) was 40+ years ago....i had access to a beautiful serpentine creek bottom that drained into the sabine river in northeast texas. there was close to half a mile of thick hardwood - loaded with mast - and plenty of cover for jump hunting ducks....often there would be opportunities for rabbit, dove, and lots of squirrels. it was the finest place i ever hunted - and i seemed to be the only person who ever went into the woods there. i had quickly learned that the migrating ducks favored certain larger pools...and were more likely to huddle in the back eddies on the inside of the bends. in time, i had a pathway established that let me work from one hot spot to the next, with minimum noise and confusion, and i made many a trip down that creek.

it was a dry fall, and the creek was still fairly low in the summer banks....and i had completed a silent stalk up to one of the prime pools - but no one was at home. ted's story has reminded me of this occasion - i took a couple more steps, to the edge of the creek, moved my greener empire into the crook of my left arm, unzipped and proceeded to pee into the creek. the instant the stream hit the water - three mallards boiled out from under the overhanging bank...inside the arc of my peeing....less than three feet from where i was standing. of course, i peed on myself....and it startled me enough - it took me two minutes to finish peeing...

best regards,

tom

Pulitzer prize, sir.