A friend invited me to join him and six other guys on their annual muzzle loader season hunt in eastern Ohio. After missing on six easy shots from about 40 - 80 yards I finally connected with a decent buck, although I had to track him back to his bed for a finishing shot. I had run out of loads and had to bum one from one of the guys for the finishing shot. My friend had been talking up what a good shot I was, and it was embarrassing to have missed so many. I took a good bit of ribbing from the guys as you can imagine. When I got home and was getting ready to clean the rifle, I through it up to my shoulder and looked out the window. I noticed that the crosshair wasn't centered, and while still looking, it disappeared down to the bottom of the bell. I felt better after that, but it didn't stop the guys from giving me grief the following years.
