Hey, this is my first post on this blog. You guys have some great pics and tales to go along with them. No I dont have any huge buck tales for this year, and no I didn't catch an 18 pound pike either. I did get a doe this year after having spotted her about 400 yards away from up in a maple tree. There was nothing between the doe and I except for foot high alfalfa, but with me all camoe'd out (new boonie hat with alfalfa stuck in it too) I figured to give it a shot. What the heck, its all about the stalk eh? So I crawled on my belly across the field, arms outstreched with my rifle on my arms (yes rifle.....I was in a legal zone for using the 22-250). It could have shot the 400 yds no problem...but what fun is that? After I got about 200 yards out I was sweating like a pig... I dont know why she didnt smell me. I was upwind of her too, coming down off of a slight slope. Air currents must have been going over her head I guess. So...200 yards worth it?..naww....had to get closer...I wanted to see the whites of her eyes....150?..naw...a little closer. Each time I peeked slowly up and froze when she would raise her head.. I'd start moving again when she began grazing again. So I decided I better forgoe my plan of getting close enough to ride her home and actually take a shot pretty soon. At about 100 yards I wiggled around so I was feet towards her..raised my knees...put the rifle on themand did an ab crunch looking into the scope..only now there were about 5 deer. I hadnt seen them... This threw me a bit...and they were so big in my scope I got mixed up as to who I was shooting at. You know the thing...pick a spot..focus...breath..exhale..hold it...squeeze. Well, adrenaline threw that out the window, and my shot missed the whole herd. So now they were running around like cows in a stampede and wouldnt you know it, they were running up to me. I pulled the bolt back, threw another shell in, and focused on a doe at about 70 yards that had stopped facing me, seeing me in the grass. Well, I got her through her brisket, and the bullet blasted out her shoulder, knocking her down like a ton of bricks. That little 22-250 packs a punch... Reminds me of a tophy elk my partner got with one back in my home of British Columbia...but that's another story. Hey, I'll keep reading your tales...you keep writing 'em. Stryker