Well I was in Arkansas hunting ducks , we had come out of the sink box tom leave and one of the guys said look at that it was a drake Pintail flying high overhead the boys with the benellies, shook there head I raised up my 32" PHE shot and the duck came down they all looked at me and shook their heads in disbelief, duck is mounted in my upstairs bedroom, guess I was just lucky that day to show off what a good Parker will do, gary

BY the way it was a 10 gauge PHE Steel barrel gun, gary

Gary's story reminds me of a duck hunt I had at Marais Temps Claire in St Charles Mo many years ago. We were wade and shoot hunting, and the birds really were not working to well that day. The other three guys in our group decided to go back behind the willows and take lunch... Being a hard headed Irishman, I stayed out by the spread.....

Finally two Gaddies decided to come with in range, and I got nervous because I knew at that point I was on stage...... The were just off to my right, and I emptied both barrels of the Browning Citori I was using at the time, and both birds fell stone dead right in front of me.... I hear in the background some light applause from the lunch crowd in the background.... I think that was most nervous I've ever been taking a shot at any flying game, as I knew if I missed both shots.... It'd be a long way home that day. :D

these stories are great...charlie

Hitting the tough ones, and missing the easy ones -- something very universal in all of this.

The toughest shot for me is sitting on a dove stool without standing up to shoot when a dove is in range.

Hunting & shooting
 

As a kid we hunted extensively. Growing up in southwest Idaho in the late 60s/early 70s there were multiple types of birds to hunt and we hunted them all. One Saturday, late in the season, we were hunting pheasants. As we drove down the very rural county road we saw several roosters crossing into an alfalfa field. The farmer was in his coral a few hundred yards away feeding his cattle, so we asked and he said go get them. I had my brand new Superposed Superlight and we let the dogs out. My shorthair went about 40 yards and pointed as did my buddy's English setter, separate birds. I walked in and flushed a magnificent rooster; two shots, not a feather. My buddy did the same. Both dogs repositioned a few yards away on rock solid points. Same result. As we drove past the farmer he just threw his hand down at us. We still don't talk about that day.

I was about 20 and often hunted pheasant and trapped mink and muskrats around a small local airport. One morning I parked my ‘65 Chevelle on a small hill where airport maintenance mowed a strip next to the access road. Next to the mown grass was a field that dropped into an alder and swamp maple swale. I loaded my 20 gauge pump and headed for the edge of the field.... this was before I had a dog... As soon as I stepped into the tall grass two big cock pheasants flushed in unison hammering for the open sky. I threw the gun to my shoulder and POW! folded that bird and he dropped like a rock, racked in a fresh shell as I swung on the second bird and folded him neatly too. I searched for a half-hour but never found either bird.

It was that day that I realized the importance of a dog... not so much to point and hold a bird, but to find it after you drop it and bring it to you.





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My first thought was a grouse dropping from a tree. I can only remember one good shot on those and it was with a Winchester 12 trap gun at the end of walking many miles jump shooting. I was very surprised at the flush and just re-acted. If I had been fresh at the beginning of the day and put any thought into the shot I am sure i would have missed. Since the dropping grouse has been mentioned I will throw in one more. A grouse someone has flushed a ways away that is crossing full speed through the trees. The longer I see it coming the more likely the miss! Several years back I was on an all day trek through a large chunk of woods. Had a new to me Francotte double 12 with 26 inch barrels and beavertail forend. Choked IC and modified. It was still the first few days of the season. I shot my first grouse at 6:30. Took a nice picture of the grouse and shotgun on a stump and thought to myself you are 6 for 6 on grouse with this gun so far this year. I was feeling quite accomplished. The rest of the day was a banner day for flushes. I put up 31 birds and saw almost all of them. Well that accomplished feeling went away. 31 flushes since the first bird and I still had only one bird when I called it a day! Every shot after I figured my averages was the hardest shot!

This brings fresh to my mind the crisp clear morning that Jamie, my brother in law, and I were hunting down the “Scrubapple Hillside” that I used to ski down 35 years ago but which had grown up in wild apples, young pines and spruces and maples. There were still a lot of clearings and openings between the trees though.
Jamie, off to my right about 40 yards, flushed a grouse but never saw it. I saw it as soon as it flushed and watched as it streaked straight at me about six feet off the ground. When I could gather my composure I snapped the gun up and swung hard through its line of flight and touched the front trigger when it was directly in front of me and crossing to the left.
All I saw was a cloud of feathers like I had shot through a pillow. I thought it was useless to even pick the thing up off the ground. It had been about 10 or 12 feet off my gun barrels when I fired.

Much to my delight I had blown out its back but the breast meat had not one pellet hole in it.

It was just instinctive snap-shooting without a split second to think.





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I agree with Bob. I've hunted grouse for over 40 years now and have yet to make or even to be in the presence of any one who could shoot a grouse flushing out and down from a tree. The flight pattern resembles a heat seeking missile launch. I remember hunting in the Catskills, we entered an area that was a mix of pines and apple trees. My dog was extremely birdy and walking stiff -legged. Finally he pointed but was looking up a grouse dive bombed out of the pine tree and with my partners shot several more did the same from surrounding trees. We had as many as 10 such shots and neither of us touched one of those birds

Like Bill Murphy I find myself laughing at the stories that are so similar to mine. In December of 1974 my brother killed himself. I was living in England and Papa told me not to come home for the funeral in Kentucky, but to come to Naples, Florida in January. We did a lot of fishing and once a week we would hunt the palmetto brush for quail. The bush was up to our elbows and we couldn't see the dog. We could hear its bell and when it stopped ringing we knew the dog was on point. The first few times the dog pointed my father would run as fast as one could through the palmetto's toward the silent bell and when the birds flushed I found myself in a position where I couldn't take a shot. The light finally came on and I too would run toward the dog and got to shoot the 16 gauge CHE. The shots were no more difficult than other wild flushed quail. It was the hunting that was difficult. We couldn't see the dog. We were in the brush at six in the morning and out by nine before the rattle snakes started moving. We had a good dog though that would find the birds.

Once years ago I was stationed just down a South Carolina hedge row from a very pretty young lady who was doing a mighty fine job of killing most of the reasonable doves that came over her. She was also polite, calling out incoming birds for me. On one of her calls, well that dove was just way, way too high for me...but I swung on it and shot anyway. I swear, it took that stone cold dead- in-the-air bird neigh onto 10 seconds to fall to earth. I was absolutely amazed. She called out "great shot!" I can still see that bird falling today.

...and it's clear to see why that one was memorable...on many levels. Always nice to make a tough one with a witness.

Good story, but it would have been better if you told us tht you immediately proposed marriage to her and she reached up with her gun and dropped a screamer and said "I will."





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Now we're in Hallmark Channel territory!:corn: (But it would be a heck-ova story!)

More than one....

My first close Grouse flush, when I could hear great....whoh!!!!

Mt first Wild Rooster coming up and bitching about my bothering him....

The one time I had two Grouse almost hanging in the sky....Finally!!!! No not yet....

All of them survived that day..... :)

Enjoyed reading through this post. Four weeks to the pheasant opener here and I’m getting antsy already. Charlie the wonder dog, like me, is starting to slow down. We will take it easy this year. I have hunted since I could walk with Dad. Since I could actually hold a firearm, I have shot at many game animals and birds over seven decades. Some I have taken home to enjoy at a family meal. Like all of us, there have been those unbelievable shots that connected and amazed and became topics of conversation for years. Someone inevitably would try to put the BS stamp on a true story but my mind has already moved on.

The question posed is the hardest shot. For me it is the “gimme” shot. I can’t count how many times this has happened but I remember the frustration of several. Always wild roosters. Dog is trying to hold the bird but bird does not cooperate. I take a step or two in direction of the dog when the rooster explodes practically under my feet. A straightaway gimme that keeps flying even after the second shot. That’s my toughest shot and the reason I will chase roosters until I can no longer walk. Cheers Jack

Jack, I hope you and your dog have many more chances, and that you can walk with Charlie for a long time to come. Good luck with your upcoming season.

I hope all of us have a few more hard shots to take... I cannot walk very far but I can sit in a chair and watch them fly by... good hunting every body...charlie

Probably one of the toughest shots I made was years ago hunting grouse during the rain. I flushed a bird from the top of a pine tree and killed it. The only one I have ever killed flushing from a tree. My most gratifying shot was the true double I took on two grouse flushing at the same time, a right and a left. I've killed many doubles but only one was a true double.