Misses that eat at your soul

My one and only bout of "buck fever" took place during the last 5 minutes of the 1978 Ontario deer season in unit 43B... I had been watching a doe as she meandered along, eventually walking 2 feet below me as I perched in the branches of an oak tree... as I watched her walking away, I heard a grunt behind me and turned to see the biggest racked whitetail buck that I have seen (to this very day)... the buck was moving fast, dogging the doe, I was holding my grandfather's old Pre-64 model 94... I was unable to get lined up on the buck through the branches due to the speed he was moving at... that got me flustered and hurried and my brain shut down, everything went into slow motion, and when the buck finally trotted under me and started moving straight away, I emptied the rifle so quickly, that my father who was 300 yards away, was certain that I had only fired twice... as I was jacking the lever and triggering the rounds, I was aware with part of my brain that I was shooting through a big poplar ten feet to the right of the buck, but could not stop and get on target... when the rifle was empty, the buck stopped and turned broadside at 30 yards to look back at the sound... I frantically ripped into my vest where my oiled and polished bullets were wrapped in a clean hanky (rookie move)... I finally got out a cartridge and fed it into the chamber and raised the rifle, and with a jump, that beautiful buck was gone. When I reached my father after dark, he asked if I had shot a deer... all I could offer, with youthful dejection, was "I blew it! I blew it!"

I can still picture that buck as clearly today as when it happened more than four decades ago... the only one that really burns.
 
The one that I dream of I didn’t miss - I didn’t get to. An absolute stud of a whitetail, I patterned and setup for. He came in on a string, and I’ve never experienced such an adrenaline rush. It was cold enough I was wearing glove liners, and I didn’t have time to take them off (this was before drop always and containment rests) soon he was at about 5yards but between the adrenaline and my glove liners I somehow knocked my arrow off the rest while I tried to draw. The noise of my arrow bouncing on the riser made him run back to about 60 where he stopped, stared at me for what felt like an eternity then walked away. Funny part is rifle season was open, but I chose to only take my bow. I hunted that deer for the next 4 years and saw him in legal light twice but never got a shot.

When I look back at all my trailcam pics of him, I can’t be upset - he simply outplayed me and gave me the best few years of hunting I could ask for. Nothing compares to bowhunting a big Whitetail....
 
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I've actually never missed an animal I've shot at out of 20 deer and countless coyotes.

The one shot I do feel bad about is a gut shot at about 220-240 yards. I was younger and dumber and chased the damn thing for a long time eventually shooting it in the head.


My day will come.
 
Missed the only wolf I have ever seen. Broadside, under 100 yds. It even had the patience to stand still while I aimed.
 
I have a Mrs. that eats at my soul daily

There is a huge Blacktail deer that has haunted me for about 12 years. Not sure how it happened but I missed him at 200 yards. Shot felt perfect and and then he just vanished into the timber.
 
Why not? said:
Sorry Sarge, you were more than flustered. A 7mm Mag three inches high at 100 yards is almost dead on at thirty. I did the same thing using a 358 Norma Mag on a small Sitka Blacktail on Chichagof Island many years ago. The buck was no more than 40 yards away, and I missed it.... twice. :runaway:

Ted
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I have actually come to hate shooting at very close range with rifle sighted in for longer ranges. I have also seen, a number of times, hunters who were good shots with lots of experience in the field, completely missing a hare or grouse at 25 yards with their moose rifle that sighted it in for 200. And I may, just theoretically, I have experienced this myself. I know that ballistics tables would seem to suggest that a rifle sighted in for 200 should be really close at 25, but my experience is that there’s just something wonky that goes on that prevents this from actually being the case.
 
jjohnwm said:
Yeah, a wounded animal, especially if it is lost, is a whole 'nother dimension of bad; much, much worse than any clean miss. It is inevitable if you hunt enough, and definitely difficult to come back from.

The absolute worst for me resulted from a shot that I didn't take. On one of the last hunts that I shared with my father before he passed away, his shot hit a buck too far back and it ran across the field in front of us. He fired twice more at the moving deer but didn't connect a second time. Here's the thing: I was sitting right next to him with my gun, and could have fired...but I wanted so badly for him to make the kill that I just watched. The deer reached the end of the field and was almost into the trees; by this point I was watching it through my scope, but Dad was just raising the gun again after having inserted one last shell. I stayed my hand...and the buck disappeared just as the gun reached my father's shoulder, before he could fire. Long story short: blood petered out after a couple hundred yards; another hundred and the trail disappeared altogether. We never saw that deer again, despite a half day of tracking and another day and a half of less-hopeful searching.

If I had been sitting with any other person, I would have fired on that deer at the edge of the field before it vanished. But it wasn't any other person, and I didn't, and things went bad. No guarantee I would have killed the deer had I shot (although I am pretty sure I would have...), but I should at least have tried. Damn.
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You have to give yourself a pass for that one, you were thinking about your Dad.
 
The anguish of a "miss" that still irks me was the very first shot I ever took at a whitetail as a not-so-young lad, hunting the thick woods outside of Algonquin Park back in '81. I was walking down a spillway from a ridge, heading to a knoll out on the peninsula where I had kicked up a deer in a previous year. The (I assume) 8 point buck was standing, chewing, looking down the spillway. Trees blocked his chest so I tried a neck shot through a gap in the branches but guess I shot high fearing hitting the branch. My dreams seemed to come crashing down.

Years later, I took a shot at another 8-ish point buck that was following a hot Doe, only to nail a 4 inch tree trunk. I contemplated cutting that section of the tree trunk out and putting it on my mantle as a memento, lol.
 
Wow. I have some regrets particularly with whitetail hunting. I mentally review those sight pictures as if it were yesterday. The best animal was a few minutes before legal shooting so no shot fired but was a spectacular atypical.
The biggest miss that would love to replay in an alternate timeline version (where there was success) was while trout fishing with my son. We hiked into a remote lake and I set him up with a fire and a cedar bobber over a Gulp minnow (no live bait allowed) that he could drift over a slight current to fish a post-ice-out scum line. I worked my way around the next bay in my waders and landed a nice 3 lb. speckled trout. I looked up and he was setting the hook then rod doubled over on a monster. It was the size of a beaver and thrashing about. No net and sharp rocks and that speckle of a lifetime broke off. Was a heart-breaker in the 10 lb+ class. I've had pickerel and lake trout that straightened my hooks but that one hurt. One time a largemouth bass towed the canoe snapping off cattails but more than any of these I would have loved to see that speckled trout dead on the shore.
 
First year bow hunting, third evening I sat my ground blind had a big bucks magazine caliber 8 point come out at 13 yards. I managed to stay calm and let him get broadside, slightly quartering away at under 10 drew back when he put his head down to feed as I settled the pin on his heart he lifted his head and I released my arrow and watched it sail between his antlers. I must have taken a look at the antlers as he lifted his head, I know nothing interfered with my arrows flight except my own aim.
I made a poor shot with a rifle and failed to recover a doe before coyotes had consumed most of her. Second deer I ever shot, has made me very selective with my shooting since.

I have messed up some spectacular opportunities waterfowling. Set up for some geese this fall for my pups first hunt, after watching every bird that had fed there the day before they sailed over top of us and landed 300 yards away where I didn't have permission. I took some mercy on my very bored pup and tossed the bumper for him. After a few a single goose came in and landed 20 yards from me as the pup was making a retrieve. To the pups credit he ignored the goose almost landing on him and finished the retrieve to hand perfectly, unfortunately I had unloaded my gun and set it down since we hadn't had a bird come by in a couple hours. Even this poor suicidal goose could only take so much and buggered off when I reached for the gun. The part that really haunts me is it was the only hunt I got the pup out on.
 
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Two of the biggest toms I've ever seen are at 20 yards and I have the gun up trying to make up my mind. One tom starts walking right toward me and I decide I better take him before he busts me and spoils everything. Clean miss at 5 yards. This is what he left me (makes for thin soup):

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I have a few misses that I wish a time machine could undo.....
Once while hunting the Saskatchewan river breaks with my BP rifle, I managed to get the drop on a large NT mule buck. He was about 150 yards , feeding below me. I was on top of the coulee, he was at the bottom. When you shoot at steep angle, either up or down, gravity has less effect on the projectile. I also misjudged the distance. I hit exactly where I aimed- just over his back. To ad insult to injury, he stopped at 250 yards and looked at me before wandering off!
I think the ones that haunt me the most are the shots I didn't take. Not so much regret, as wondering if things had gone differently..... A monster typical mule deer got up from his bed and stood looking at me at 150 yards. I was shooting a black powder .54 caliber round ball and was only good to 100 yards. I let him walk.
A large 6 point bull elk called in to 10 yards. He was facing me and I didn't feel comfortable putting an arrow into him unless he turned broadside. I was shooting a 55 lb. recurve and couldn't outwait him, while I was at full draw. As you can imagine, the movement of coming off full draw made him explode out of there, only to stop at 75 yards and look back with a puzzled look on his face.
Then there was the time when I was a young guy of 18, I had a huge WT buck walk across a hillside in front of me at 250 yards. I couldn't get a good rest, so didn't shoot. I thought I could just sneak closer and get another chance. Rookie move. Never saw him again.
One shot I very much regret was not a miss at all. It was rifle season, and I had a broadside shot at a nice 6 pt bull elk (estimated 320"). I was shooting off sticks, but rushed the 300 yard shot and hit him high in the base of the neck. He bucked and took off like a race horse. A quick follow up shot went behind him, as the trees swallowed him up. We found one speck of blood while tracking him for 1/2 mile. Elk are tough, so he might have survived but regret taking the shot. Had I taken the time to settle my breathing and gone through my normal mental preparation to get in "the zone", the results would have been different.
We try to do everything possible to make a clean kill, but there is still a lot of uncertainty in hunting. Regrets, yes, but I wouldn't have it any other way.
 
I missed a good size whitetail buck this fall. Walking in to do some still hunting and right off the go a big buck steps out 80 yards in front of me. Rifle is slung over my shoulder, as I bring it around the buck spooks and heads for the hills. I take a hail marry shot free hand at the back of his head while he is bounding about 100 yards away. Clean miss that could have been so much better if I was on my game.
 
5 day only general open season for bull moose in BC.
Had success for a few years in a row. Nothing huge but very nice meat bulls.
Like every hunter though, we all want as much headgear on our harvest as we can manage and I never bumped into the big ones when it was my tag to fill even though they were present and leaving their tracks in the snow. So in 2017 on the first day of the hunt I got comfortable in my usual calling spot and got an instant reply on the first mournful cow call. Tried to call him out but he just bellowed and grunted and we knew we were dealing with a big mature bull. No sighting that day but the next day we approached from a different access and came in about 500 yards behind where I figured the bull was the day before. It is a large block of 15 to 20 year old pine that easily hides 50 moose LOL in the back of it is a swamp bordering a clear cut and older forest. Again after the first call the bull bellowed back and he was extremely close in the thick stuff. I would guess under 50 yards but we could not see him..... and we never did.
day 3 and 4 were uneventful and I passed on a 2 point immature , hoping to get my sights on that big one.
Last day of the hunt I head in on the quad and 100 yards from where I dismount and go on foot I see something move on the ground ahead of me, 20 yards down the slope.
Before I could even realize what I was seeing..... I was thinking wolverine..... the damn thing stood up . It was the biggest bull I had seen in that area and I have some pretty big sheds I've found there. This bull looked like my larger set of sheds and I think it was my shed bull.
As I got my rifle shouldered and the crosshairs in a good spot , he was running and just as I squeezed a shot he turned and I clear missed. Now he was broad side at 75 yards gently sloping down into trees and logging debris piles. I reloaded the ruger 77 mkII 7mm rm and had a fantastic shoulder shot and as my finger went to caress the trigger, my damn glove got in the way and my shot went wild. Again, totally clean miss into the ether. I had fingerless gloves with the mitten part that flips over so you can keep the fingers warm when not needed. Glomits the call them..... stupid fuggin things. I'll never wear those type of gloves again as they surely cost me the moose of my lifetime.
I don't think I can physically do the moose hunting anymore so that one will haunt me to my grave.
 
45ACPKING said:
5 day only general open season for bull moose in BC.
Had success for a few years in a row. Nothing huge but very nice meat bulls.
Like every hunter though, we all want as much headgear on our harvest as we can manage and I never bumped into the big ones when it was my tag to fill even though they were present and leaving their tracks in the snow. So in 2017 on the first day of the hunt I got comfortable in my usual calling spot and got an instant reply on the first mournful cow call. Tried to call him out but he just bellowed and grunted and we knew we were dealing with a big mature bull. No sighting that day but the next day we approached from a different access and came in about 500 yards behind where I figured the bull was the day before. It is a large block of 15 to 20 year old pine that easily hides 50 moose LOL in the back of it is a swamp bordering a clear cut and older forest. Again after the first call the bull bellowed back and he was extremely close in the thick stuff. I would guess under 50 yards but we could not see him..... and we never did.
day 3 and 4 were uneventful and I passed on a 2 point immature , hoping to get my sights on that big one.
Last day of the hunt I head in on the quad and 100 yards from where I dismount and go on foot I see something move on the ground ahead of me, 20 yards down the slope.
Before I could even realize what I was seeing..... I was thinking wolverine..... the damn thing stood up . It was the biggest bull I had seen in that area and I have some pretty big sheds I've found there. This bull looked like my larger set of sheds and I think it was my shed bull.
As I got my rifle shouldered and the crosshairs in a good spot , he was running and just as I squeezed a shot he turned and I clear missed. Now he was broad side at 75 yards gently sloping down into trees and logging debris piles. I reloaded the ruger 77 mkII 7mm rm and had a fantastic shoulder shot and as my finger went to caress the trigger, my damn glove got in the way and my shot went wild. Again, totally clean miss into the ether. I had fingerless gloves with the mitten part that flips over so you can keep the fingers warm when not needed. Glomits the call them..... stupid fuggin things. I'll never wear those type of gloves again as they surely cost me the moose of my lifetime.
I don't think I can physically do the moose hunting anymore so that one will haunt me to my grave.
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Ha 45, Them smoker gloves cost me a few deer over the years as well, Remember getting the mitten part caught in the bolt when loading a shell, couldn't get it out as deer is running across the field. I will never wear them gloves hunting again either haha
 
ya they seem like a good idea until they aren't haha
in my case I flipped the finger mitten part back as soon as I got off my quad and grabbed the rifle. Loading and shooting the first round was fine but when I chambered the next round, as I reached into the trigger guard with my finger to find the trigger..... that stupid mitten part had flipped forward and totally got in the way of my trigger finger. Lucky moose.
That opening has now been reduced to 3 days so it just isn't worth the cost of making that trip anymore. Hopefully that bull lives a long happy life hehehe
 
The one that sticks in my memory more than any other was the one caused by the scope height on the crossbow. A branch fairly close to me was out of sight in the scope, but almost directly in front of the bolt. It deflected upwards radically ending up in a cedar tree trunk about five feet above the meat buck I thought was about to go in my freezer.
 
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John Y Cannuck said:
The one that sticks in my memory more than any other was the one cased by the scope height on the crossbow. A branch fairly close to me was out of sight in the scope, but almost directly in front of the bolt. It deflected upwards radically ending up in a cedar tree trunk about five feet above the meat buck I thought was about to go in my freezer.
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we all have full freezers of dreams lol
 
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