Jan 17, 2015 4 min read

How many readers know how many inches a bullet of 150 grains from an 8mm magnum drops at 1,000 yards? I’ll answer that one later, leaving you to ponder the answer.

As most readers know, I love shooting at groundhogs at ranges of 300 to 500 yards. It’s a fascinating form of hunting that requires a good flat-shooting rifle, a clear, high-powered scope and good ammunition to succeed consistently.

It also can bring the shooter a sense of humility. There are days you can’t miss and other days when, after four or five straight misses, you might as well pack it in and go home. It does play mind games.

Take note I am talking about groundhogs, where a hit in the body with most varmint rounds means a quick kill.

I don’t like the shooting of deer at long ranges that neutralize the animals’ defense mechanisms such as those provided by eyes, nose and ears. Shooting deer seems chancy at 700 to 1,000 yards and almost certainly results in crippled deer.

A deer at 1,000 yards can easily take a step between the pulling of the trigger and the impact of the bullet.

Groundhog hunting is different just because of the size of the animal.

The reason for all this is the fact I made a resolution for 2015 to shoot a groundhog at a range of over 1,000 yards. Not an accidental hit, but one that was preplanned.

Have I ever hit one this far away? I have done it more than once but usually it was accidental, and that hog was doomed from the day he got out of bed. If I hadn’t shot him he probably would have been struck by lightning.

Such an occurrence happened a while back when I was hunting with the late Walt Novak of Muse and Bill Bushmeier of Canonsburg. The critters were scarce that day but Bill had taken one and Walt bounced a shot into another.

Now, it was my turn and we waited and watched. Bill was an old-time shooter and reloader, and I really enjoyed the conversation with him.

I finally decided to take a shot at a groundhog that was feeding since we got there. The darned thing was so far away that it appeared to be a small one.

That particular day, I was toting a 25-06 loaded with 85-grain Nosler Ballistic tip topped with a 12-power Leopold scope. It had a Remington-action laminated stock and a Hart barrel. It was a shooter.

I flipped down the legs of the bipod, got into the prone position and peered through the scope. It looked small even through the powerful scope.

Walt laughed while Bill spotted and stayed calm. My goal was to just throw dirt on the animal. To do that meant I was close. In a situation like that, close was a good shot, much like a golfer making a chip shot from 50 feet.

Holding what I guessed to be 12 feet over its head, I squeezed one off. After a pause while the bullet got there, Bill said I had hit him.

Walt and I did not believe him but Bill said he saw that black tail go skyward and wave goodbye.

It was a long walk over two rises and more than one field, and Bill and I lagged behind Walt as we talked about reloading and groundhog cartridges. Walt, uninterested in our bull, scooted ahead.

We finally arrived at the area where the hog was feeding. I wasn’t as confident I had hit it. Walt found it in the clover and, he said with some amazement, “You hit it in the eye.”

Which eye I asked? The left, he answered.

“I was aiming for the right eye,” I said.

Bill smiled as we headed back toward the truck. He knew I would want to try that shot again someday. I am sure it was over 1,000 yards. That was one lucky George and one unlucky groundhog. It was his day to go to that great clover field in the sky, and I just happened to get lucky and send it there.

The answer to my earlier question: Sierra shows its 150-grain boat tail loaded to the max and sighted in at 200 yards to drop over 300 inches at 1,000 yards. That’s a lot of drop.

George H. Block writes a Sunday Outdoors column for the Observer-Reporter.