Best shot (with a little weird luck) was a woodcock in an old, overgrown apple orchard. He busted on the dog, and headed across right-to-left in front of me. I quickly mounted my 20ga. O/U, tracked and led, and just as I was about to pull the trigger the side of the barrel came to a stop against a sapling in front of me. I just leaned left, pulled the trigger, and off to my left there was a "Clank" sound. Went over with my hunting buddy, and we were scrounging in the grass and leaves looking for the bird. Suddenly he said, Nice shot! -It turned out the woodcock had hit the deck inside an old, metal pail lying on its side on the ground.
Worst shot? -A big, 10 point buck about 30 yards away. He was standing broadside, fairly open cover, nothing between me and him. I went to one knee slowly, set the crosshairs on my .270 carefully, squeezed off the shot, and he took off. No blood, no fur, he just motored off over the crest of the knob we were on top of. The next fall, I went back there and stood where I had been on that day. Between me and the buck's position was a forest of 2-3ft high, red-barked shoots sticking up. Had I stayed standing, I would have been in the clear. But when I went to my knee, I put all those sticks between me and the buck. I was hunting with my Dad. To make matters worse, as we walked out to the clearing where the skid road passed by, Dad picked up an old tin can he found, set it up on a dirt bank, and said, "Maybe your scope is off. Try a shot at the can." I raised the .270, pulled the trigger, and drilled the can dead center. It just added insult to injury!