“You missed the entire backstop!” blurted my appointed bear guide.

“Oh no! Let me try another shot — I must have flinched really badly!” With that, I levered in another 300-grain Hornady soft-point cartridge, took careful aim, and watched as a 2-inch diameter rock turned to tiny pebbles just to the right of the target.

“You missed the entire backboard!” commented my now exasperated guide. “You got another rifle you can hunt with? If not, you can use one of the camp rifles.”

“I must have really flinched, or maybe the scope is just way off!” With that, I laid my rifle on the bench and simply loosened both scope caps a bit, making no other adjustment. Out of the corner of my eye, I watched the guide wag his head in a negative manner. I said, “That should help! I made some scope adjustments!” By now, I was certain my guide thought his hunter was a complete idiot.

“Sam, would you mind standing right behind me and watching for what I’m doing wrong?” I suspect he also probably thought that was likely the safest place to be around this guy!

I levered in another Hornady round. Two more remained in the tubular magazine. With that, I hollered, “Fire in the hole!” then shot at the proper target. The bullet took out the small “X” in the bullseye! No sooner had I shot and worked the lever, I fired a second, and then levered in a third shot. The three bullets created a three-hole cloverleaf in the exact center of the target.

“Looks like my adjusting the scope worked… I think she’s ready for bear!”

I turned to look at Sam, who was now slack-jawed. It took him a few moments. “You were messing with me all along, weren’t you!”

“Yes sir! I like making big rocks into smaller rocks and pebbles!” I responded. “This .45–70 Govt. lever-action, shooting Hornady ammo, is one of the most accurate off-the-shelf rifles I have ever owned!”

Three days later, I shot a 7-foot 2-inch squared bear with a skull that just missed the all-time Boone and Crockett record book. Hit squarely through the lungs, the big Saskatchewan bear ran only about 50 yards.

A couple of years later, I was on a mule deer hunt in far northwestern Colorado — back when one could buy deer licenses over the counter. I got really lucky and shot a monstrous 180-class 3x3 (whitetail-looking) with short brow tines, the first morning of the hunt. At the time, I was using a .270 Win, shooting Hornady 130-grain pointed soft-point ammo. The rifle was superbly accurate with that load. I shot my buck at just shy of 400 yards. Sighted-in 1½ inches high at 100 yards, I knew my bullet would drop 24 inches at 400 yards. This was long before adjustable scope turrets. My scope at the time was a Leupold 3x9 variable with duplex crosshairs. At 400 yards, the distance between where the heavy vertical crosshair became thinner and where the vertical and horizontal crosshairs intersected was 24 inches. In shooting my buck — which I “guesstimated” at 400 yards, again before rangefinders — I placed the vertical crosshair post where thick turned to thin in the center of his broadside shoulder, then pulled the trigger. There was a very slight breeze directly in my face. I did not worry about wind drift. At the shot, the buck dropped in his tracks.

With my buck hung in the barn to cool, I had time to call coyotes — but also to shoot rocks. I learned back when I was a youngster growing up in the Zimmerscheidt Community of Colorado County, Texas, there was no season nor bag limit on rocks!

Back during those early days, .22 rimfire shells were not always easy to come by. I had to save for months to be able to buy a box of 50, even though it only cost fifty to seventy-five cents. We were in the cattle, chicken, and hog production business. As a result, we had meat to eat every day and were not dependent upon what we could shoot. That, thankfully, allowed me the luxury of shooting at rocks at distances both near and far. Now, “far” for my Remington Model 33 single-shot back then meant something a whole lot different than it does today. Shooting open-sight long distance back then was an extreme 100 yards.

These days, using my Mossberg 7mm PRC Patriot Predator rifles — topped with either Stealth Vision’s 3–18x44 SVT or 5–20x50 SVL scopes — shooting Hornady’s Precision Hunter 175-gr. ELD-X ammo, I think nothing of shooting at rocks at 1,000 to 1,200 yards… when my “bullet budget” allows.

Shooting at rocks — which I also do with my Rossi R92 in .44 Mag and R95 .30–30 Win open-sight rifles using appropriate Hornady rounds — is great fun as well. So is using my Taurus Raging Hunter .357 Mag, .44 Mag, and .454 Casull revolvers.

In most instances, I try to quickly estimate the distance to the targeted rock, then hold appropriately if shooting open-sight. Then after the shot, I range the distance with my Stealth Vision ED range-finding binoculars to see how close I was with my estimate. I do somewhat the same when shooting my scoped Mossberg rifles, but there I estimate the distance, then range it with my Stealth Vision binoculars to see how close I was, make the appropriate turret adjustments, and shoot.

While I enjoy shooting at steel targets, I also like to see something happen. This is one of the reasons I save one-gallon plastic milk jugs. These milk jugs are a bit smaller than most vital areas of the animals I hunt. Filled with red-dyed water, if I can break them — regardless of the distance — I know I could and would cleanly and humanely kill the animal I might be shooting at in the future. The same is true for shooting rocks, 4 to about 6 inches in diameter. Like the milk jugs, I know immediately if they were hit or not. As with any type of shooting or hunting, always make certain of what is behind your target.

Rock shooting season is indeed open! May be impossible to eat what you shoot — but then too, think about all the taxidermy fees you’ll save.