To find out more about our Chapter’s Celebrity Hunter go to Brandon’s Website link… click www.wiksworld.com
Wikman role models high standards, dedication and true resilience to making a lifelong goal evolve into a true bittersweet dream. His active role in promoting youth outdoors sports has literally reached millions of future outdoors men & women.
As co-host of the nationally award winning television show, The Next Generation, airing year round on the Outdoor Channel, Wikman illustrates the basics of hunting & fishing in a style that’s exciting, entertaining and most important, kid-friendly!
Fishing has been one of the more popular prescriptions outdoor enthusiasts cling to when deer season has all but simmered. The rapid quest for fish begins for the majority of anglers during the late spring and early summer. This is especially true for the Midwest.
Recently, I had the incredible opportunity to fly into the beautiful state of Georgia to film an episode for The Next Generation TV show. My dearest and most respected mentor, John Stamper of Student Outdoor Experience assembled the game plan blitz. He setup a world class fishing trip on Lake Lanier. We were to seek a species of fish that’s unheard of in my neck of the woods. The fish is called a striper. These fish carry a big belly that’s complimented by a bad attitude, which make them a fishing favorite for many in the southern states.
My initial response to fishing these over-sized bass was quite simple. How? Thankfully, my fishing partners were reluctant to educate me on these critters of the deep. Striped bass can live up to 40-years. They have been known to tip the scales to over 100 pounds! I knew I was in for a spectacular time when the fishing gurus began tossing those numbers into the equation. It became very apparent that we weren’t fishing for little bluegill anymore…
I learned that striped bass eat a variety of different foods. They will bite into alewives, flounder, sea herring, silver hake, and even eels. Their appetite is super large, hence their massive sizes.
After sifting through the seaweed of sport fishing the notorious striper, I was ready. The boat splashed into the water before daylight and we were fishing before light! Fishing during the faint light seemed out of the question; until I was awakened, literally.
The first few casting experiments were a way for me to test my virgin fishing abilities into the water of striper. To my surprise, I was blasted with a few rock-solid strikes from a few wicked whoppers! The light blue sky grew brighter as the fishing ensued. I soon learned that these fish ate heavy during dusk and dawn. The time was prime.
As I gazed into the fogs of la-la-land completely swept away by the beauty of Lake Lanier, my pole took a nosedive. The battle of wits was on. My heavy-duty rod and reel zipped and wobbled recklessly as I gave my best attempt to wrestle the eager fish. My line went back-and-forth as we both tugged. The battle busted ground after eight minutes of brutal cranking of my reel. I was able to get the fish close enough to the boat where a net could be dipped and scooped.
My first fish of the morning was a 10-pound striped bass. I couldn’t be any happier! We fished throughout the morning and into the afternoon. We caught several more respectable fish, which truly enhanced the filming portions of the trip.
I was delighted to have had the chance and open-invitation to test my skills on the deep freshwater fish they call the striper. Thanks John for everything!
– By Brandon Wikman Warm weather blossoms an entire new garden of enjoyable outdoor activities. Many avid outdoor enthusiasts jump into the fresh wonders of wildlife to seek the infamous headgear of whitetail, search for the prized morel mushroom, or plop a bobber into a lake. The rising temperatures inspire many new activities that take place in the woods, water, or as I can attest, my backyard!
Last week my close friends and I broke out the shotguns, my trap-thrower, and a few boxes of clay pigeons. We spent an entire afternoon shattering the fragile orange disks they call clay pigeons. I dedicated a few hours to hone in my skills, practice shooting habits, and get my head back into the game of hunting after a cold wintery lull. My friends and I busted through hundreds of disks for fun. No scoring. No competitions. Just good, clean fun.
My great friend Jenn Geissler is a beginner when it comes to the shooting world. My hope was to show her a great time, increase her shooting skills, and enhance her ability to pulverize clay pigeons. My main goal was to provide her a great time to participate in a sport that I so dearly love. I was very careful to work with her on shooting stance first. Stance is one of the most critical fundamentals to pinpoint before shooting. The art of shooting sports revolves around a few basic ground rules that will essentially improve individuals’ shooting talents. Below you will find a few that have worked for me.
Stance:
The simple mannerisms of proper stance reflect your ability to balance your center of gravity. Your stance has such an important value nestled into the way your body performs. I’ve learned and took notes from several Olympic trap-shooters that have made a competitive gaming career out of it.
You must be sure to lean into the shot with a semi-open stance shoulder-width apart. This will provide an adequate balance and foundation for your upper body to swing into the shot. Balance is such a key factor in accuracy and the outcome of your performance.
Follow Through:
I’ve learned that over the years “following through” is one of the most central items that revolve around life. We must follow through within our career, in sports, and throughout our existence. If we don’t take the extra step to follow through, there’s simply no guidance or direction.
As any basketball player would tell you, following through is a key aspect to their success. As trap-shooters will also tell you, it gives you a platform to reach consistency, which will ultimately improve your accuracy.
Confidence:
As any professional sports player, musician, or leadership speaker will tell you, confidence is key. At the end of they day you can have the best stance, form, technique, and follow through, but if you aren’t confident in your venture, you will fail. There’s an old quote that I always enjoy to reflect upon, “If you plan to fail, your plan will fail.”
Confidence is a mental awareness that is found deep in your soul. It’s a habitual feeling we have that comes with practice, practice, and more practice. As you walk up to your next job interviews, exam, or audience, you must grasp your mind with an “I can” attitude. This will show in more ways than one.
These are just a few simple tips that I’ve learned over the years from my many great mentors. They aren’t anything fancy, nothing unearthed that hasn’t been told before, but merely a recall to action.
At the end of the day, we must find time to showcase a proving ground for newbie’s. It’s truly a rewarding opportunity to enjoy and splendor for many years to come.
– By Brandon Wikman The spring is a hustle-bustle time of consumer tradeshows, product launches, and introducing new items for shelf space. Throughout the past four-month grind of racing to cities across the Midwest, assembling booths, meeting great people, and promoting the sport of hunting to the next generation of outdoor enthusiasts has left an incredible impression on my life. I love partaking in events that provide instructive education for our youth. Last month I attended a unique event that showcased an entirely new dimension of visitors; Kid’s Day.
Adams County, Wis. hosts an annual event that is targeted toward area youth. Adams is a small country community that is located in the south central region of Wisconsin. The vast farmland and area lakes make this a dynamic place for avid hunters and fishermen. It is a place where I was raised and began my journey into the outdoors. Many people find refuge in the area for its rich traditions of conservation and land management.
The small community of fewer than 2,000 assembles a yearly get-together during April. Vendors from across the county exhibit interesting booths, engaging games, and free seminars about everything from origami paper construction to hula hooping. One thousand area kids join together during this special day to enjoy the assortment of activities.
My friend Jenn Geissler and I attended the event and showcased the fine art of turkey calling. I brought an assortment of friction calls for kids to try and a relentless attitude to teach. Jenn and I provided insight on how to run yelps, clucks, and purrs, which are the basic fundamentals to calling turkeys in shooting range. Kids from the ages of 5-to-15 enjoyed the screeching aluminum, glass, and slate surfaces.
Throughout the duration of the day, kids scratched, cranked, and scraped turkey tunes in the gymnasium from my booth. The yelps and cackles brought in curious kids looking to master the art of turkey vocalization. Many newbie’s were able to bust out a pretty good yelp within the first few minutes, while others stuck around for several minutes before playing a melody. Jenn and I gladly provided lessons for a few hours for both youth and adults alike. It was great to see the smiles and fascinating looks bystanders had.
We enjoyed a fine day promoting turkey calls and turkey hunting to kids. Jenn and I found great joy in growing youth’s knowledge with wild game tips, tactics, and techniques. Several kids left the booth asking where they could purchase a turkey call. It was a proud moment to realize the little work that we did last Saturday rippled across the entire county’s youth base.
Providing education and leadership to youth is what Jenn and I both find dear to our hearts. It’s a chance to inspire kids with something new, exciting, and positive. I firmly believe that making a positive impression on today’s youth is critical and nearly the most important aspect of their life. Adults and peers must act as role models to establish a strong presence within the child’s psyche. Please remember that children carefully watch everything we do. Be that person to resonate the positive aspects of tomorrow’s future.
– By Brandon Wikman Trudging through forests and fields in search for massive whitetail headgear can be completely irresistible when you know both where and how to look. I’ve encountered many years of tireless searching for bone without any rewards to take home to show forth! Finally after listening and learning to a few shed hunting gurus, I’m able to ‘shed’ light on some valuable tactics in search for the mysterious bone!
FOREST:
Shed hunting in the forest is a lot like fishing. As a fisherman, we always keep a close eye on structure, such as weed beds, logs, or overhanging branches. Shed hunting is no different. Look for places such as thick brush spots, lone standing pines, and try to figure where bucks would spend the majority of their time. You must maximize your search by finding the key high-percentage areas.
Your best bet is to break out an aerial map and look at the terrain. Find the fields, ridges, and inside corner of woodlots. This will give you a better idea of where to begin. Once you have a general idea of where to look, it’s time to get your hiking boots.
I found that searching the south edges of woodlots that border cornfields could be a gold mine. These are prime food source locations that are in direct sunlight throughout the day. Small patches of thickets within a property are a wise place to look. These gnarly places hold a high percentage of a forest’s bedding area. They also have a great tendency of snagging antlers due to the blanket of twisted branches.
Lastly, find river or creek crossings. Many times deer will follow water parallel until they find a shallow spot. Bucks will make a good hop, skip, and jump across the water and jar their antlers from the hoof impact.
FIELD: During the winter, whitetails rely on the rich carbohydrates composed of corn and soybeans. Agriculture fields are a huge whitetail pull. They provide animals with a consistent food source that is, most importantly, within walking distance. They don’t have to lose energy walking miles and miles looking for a place to find grub.
Deer typically will feed on a number of different crops in the winter. They mostly prefer corn, alfalfa, winter wheat, and rye grass. These are power-packed foods that provide substantial energy. Dealing with thousands of endless acres of agriculture fields can be daunting! There is a lot of field to cover and antlers can be scattered anywhere. Before lacing your winter boots for a huge trek, here are a few things to note.
Be aware of the travel locations of in which deer are entering and exiting the field most often. Find the largest concentration of tracks, droppings, or signs to guide you in the right direction. Glass the field with a nice pair of binoculars. This is extremely productive and you’ll be able to spot the glimmering sheen of a shed antler. Be sure to get a high vantage point so you can see as much as possible. You may want to find the highest ridge in the field and stand atop your four-wheeler to navigate.
If you don’t have a four-wheeler, walking will suffice. Take a stroll through a few rows at a time and mark where you’ve traveled. It’s much more efficient to look in one direction than to sweep back and forth throughout the entire field. You must take your sweet time and mosey through the field with wide-eyes!
Shed hunting is a fun way to get your family and friends into the woods. This is a good thing, considering the more eyes, the better! Be sure to take a weekend and search for success.
– By Brandon WikmanThousands of my trail-camera pictures are cluttered into hundreds of electronically saved archived folders in my computer. Each year the photos spill over and suckle the memory juices from my laptop’s hard drive. I watch as my kila, mega, and gigabytes are zapped and disappear into “memory cemetery land” and can’t seem to press the delete key on any of them!
Instead of deleting them, I save each photograph and marvel at the sheer uniqueness of each one. Every photo illustrates an incredible story in the life of our most sacred animals. The whitetail deer has mystified our wildest imaginations for centuries. The addiction to coordinate a successful covert operation of candidly documenting these critters only adds to the blossoming of our deepest hunting obsessions.
I’ve taken a good and hard look at the work my Moultrie trail camera did for me in 2009 and pulled three of my favorite whitetail moments.
Late August is a time when the fuzzy velvet of a whitetail’s headgear turns ripe. Capturing a photo of a soft-horned giant will always be on my “to-do” list, but the whitetail photographed on this summer evening was truly one-of-a-kind.
As you can see, the trail camera was placed pointing back at a tree stand. In this picture you can feel the gut-wrenching buck fever of this colossal 10-point buck. He gracefully looks into the distance, unaware of the trail camera’s presence. Little did he know, he’s toying with opening weekends near arrival. This picture is absolutely stellar.
As mid-October grew near, the leaves changed color almost as if it were in accordance with these two bucks’ aggression. The whitetails are beginning to face off a battle to declare one of the most precious assets in the eyes of a whitetail, dominance. The buck on the left is truly spectacular. He’s sporting a kicker on both G2’s. The buck pictured to the right is a classic example of a Buffalo County, Wisconsin 2-year old.
One of the last most memorable photos of 2009 was this buck getting ferocious with an innocent branch hanging over the wrong place, a scrape. The scrape is about as wide as a kitchen table and had drawn in several awesome bucks during the week of November. As you can see, the whitetail’s neck is elongated and inaction as he thrusts all his might into the branch.
The industrial advancements of today’s most techno-savvy companies have embraced a leading edge in the marketplace. The hunting and outdoor industry has an immense amount of endless gear, gadgets, and garbage dumped into catalogs, trade shows, and retail locations across the country. There are very few businesses that I strongly standby in quality and customer care. I can personally attest that Moultrie has been a leader in both of those categories. Their seamless creativity and innovation leads the way as we plunge into another year and another imaginary ending to a beginning.
When chasing whitetails with a bow in the confinements of branches, bushes, and brush blows, here’s a new tactic to try. Hunt your way to success inside a standing cornfield.
Standing corn offers a new set of challenges to desperate hunters drooling to fill their tag. Whitetails alter patterns, change bedding areas, and morph into an entirely different species during this time of year. Deer will completely modify their instincts after being pressured for nearly four months. I’ve spoken with many successful hunters who’ve found themselves nose-to-nose with bedded deer in rows of cornfields. Here are a few strategies that I’ve learned from the wise.
Conditions Weather plays a major impact on your ability to creep into shooting distance. Beating the whitetail’s keen sense of hearing is nearly impossible. Use the cornfield hunting approach when it’s windy, rainy, or snowing. The wind will mask your sound of approach by fluttering through rustling leaves. Rain can soak the sound and turn the crunchy, dry stalk leaves into soggy noise dampeners. Lastly, snow will also help dampen the sound of your stalk and help hide your movements. Falling snow acts as a slight camouflage that will help you get away with more stalking.
Spotting Thousands of endless cornrows stretch across hundreds of acres, which make spotting deer a very difficult task. It’s always important to carry high-quality binoculars. This will aid in locating specific parts of the animal, such as a tail, leg, or ear. Considering deer will bed parallel to the rows of corn, hunters must be aware of positioning. Lately, I’ve found using a 5-gallon bucket truly a charm. Standing on a bucket will give you a slight height advantage to peer through several rows ahead. The combination of a bucket, binoculars, and a patient pace will aid in your advantage.
Stalking You’ve got a nice steady drizzle, a handy set of binoculars, and a 5-gallon bucket, now what? This is where mastering the art of stalking comes into play. Always hunt a cornfield with the wind blowing parallel to the rows. You never want to hunt a cornfield when the wind is drifting your scent across the rows because deer will smell you coming before you even see them. Start at the beginning of the field and walk across the rows on the fields’ downwind side. Moving crosswind, slowly peek into each row and look both ways. Continue this slow and steady rate until you reach the other side of the field. Once you reach the side edge, move twenty yards up and cut across the rows again. You will continue this process until you spot a deer. If you happen to catch a glimpse and have a clear shot, take it immediately before it bolts. If not, carefully back up and sneak toward the animal until you have a clear shot Time is always on your side, be sure to use it.
Hunting in a cornfield with a bow is a technique I suggest all hunters try. Deer are often caught off guard because they rarely spot hunters sneaking up on them in a cornfield setting. This will give you a genuine opportunity of putting venison in the freezer before season closes.
The majority of the Midwest’s terrain is still disguised with golden acres of cornfields. Thousands of acres stretch across Missouri all the way to Ohio. Much of 2009’s corn crop has been extremely damp due to unseasonable weather conditions, which makes harvesting cobs and kernels worthless. Farmers must have local co-ops dry their corn in specialized dryers, which costs a fortune and makes the initial harvesting barely worth their time.
I believe standing cornfields in late December and early January provide just as many positive aspects as negative ones to hunters and deer alike. Corn is enriched with carbohydrates, which allow deer to boost energy and bolster their strength to survive during the harsh winter months. Food sources become severely slim when snow plasters the ground and ice blankets atop. It truly becomes a ruthless battle for survival of the fittest. There’s nothing more palatable to a whitetail than a mouthful of kernels. Custom food plots hunters prepare during the fall season are usually torn up and devoured by this time, but not when it comes to hundreds of acres of corn.
Deer often bed, feed, and live in large fields of corn throughout the fall and winter months. Mature whitetails feel extremely comfortable and secure in the confinement of rows, especially if the field is “dirty.” Dirty refers to weedy or an overgrowth of vegetation inside the field. Thickly covered fields strangled in weeds attract more deer than clean and tidy ones. Deer always feel much more safe in dense and heavier cover. Hunters must make no mistake in finding high spots, wet areas, or places where the planter has plugged up to find the best bedding sites.
Slight changes in landscape such as slopes provide deer a vantage point to spot oncoming predators. It’s critical to focus on any slight alterations in the terrain when finding the hottest bedding sites. During the fall, when winter hasn’t frozen any open watered mud holes, find them! These places found in lower areas of the field work wonders when high temperatures scorch into the upper 80’s and 90’s. Deer will often stretch their legs during the midday to sip a cool refreshing gulp of water. Lastly, farmers often plug up their planter when lying seed on the ground. This makes a cluster of tall corn that masks deer while bedding. Animals use the same instincts in the corn as they would in the forest.
When much of the Midwest has stormed through firearm season and is now back to late season archery tactics. We must understand that many whitetails have adapted to the comfort zone of cornfields during this time. Deer drives, human sightings, and a huge elevation of hunting pressure drive many whitetail into standing fields. There have been a great number of giant bucks that made it through 2009 thanks to standing corn. They’ve used it as a hot food source and an overwhelmingly fantastic place to get some shuteye throughout daylight hours.
As the season dwindles into mere days, we must take full advantage of hunting cornfields. It’s important to keep an open mind during to this time of year to fill your tag. Look for sign, such as tracks, droppings, and trails to improve your success when hunting late season whitetail!
The last few days have proved to be a challenging race against time as I stuff my suitcases plump full en route to Wisconsin before year’s end. I’ve been chilled on stand for five sits now. The weather was picture-perfect. The hunting has been incredible; buck sightings above average, and doe speckle the agriculture fields everywhere.
We just haven’t had the stroke of luck to put a trophy buck on the ground. The problem that has stripped our ability to pattern bucks has been the abundance of food availability. Custom food plots work wonders when temperatures dip into the teens, but not exactly when there are other food sources in the area, such as standing corn.
Thousands of acres painted in golden rows blanket the rolling terrain of Northern Missouri. Standing corn has been the main culprit to hiding the giant whitetail that roams this vast landscape. Giant whitetail is what I’m after. Due to soggy weather conditions across the Midwest this year, many farmers have found themselves drenched with bad luck. The moisture levels in crop corn have been unusually high thanks to a lot of rain and wet weather during the harvest months of fall season. Several farmers across the country, including my uncle, had to leave their corn standing hoping that moisture would drop significantly before paying unreasonable amounts to dry it at the co-op. Many farmers are just beginning to break out the combines and do work on the snow infested fields. My uncle just started his up yesterday.
We’ve battled stormy blizzard conditions and sub-zero temperatures on a daily basis, but last night spurred to be our best evening sit yet. The stands wrapped around a tree that overlooked a standing cornfield. Hundreds of acres of corn, thousands of golden cobs, and a spectacular location amounted to our most deer sightings yet. Twenty doe funneled into the field before sunset, while the bucks waited a little longer before entering the field. A small eight-point with a handful of yearlings drifted towards the center of the field toward all of the doe. Every deer was within a hundred yards, which would make an ideal shot for the muzzleloader. Unfortunately, the big boys didn’t step into the shooting lanes until later in the evening when camera light dwindled.
As I peered through my scope at the 4-½ year old ten-point, my teeth chattered as my heart sunk into my throat. This was a perfect example of the con’s involved in capturing a hunt on film. Video cameras can’t record quality footage during low light conditions. I watched the buck disappear into the cornfield, while I faded into the back of my stand’s seat, heart broken.
I’d just like to thank Mr. Hill and guide Dustin Fortner for providing a fantastic hunting adventure to cease the last trip of my 2009 season. The year has been a whirlwind of broken success, shattered dreams, and the occasional enlightenment that has kept us going. I wish everyone luck as most states continue their late season hunting until mid-January. God bless and good luck.
The Friday before Christmas, I scurried into my classroom to take my final exam for history. I gave my best effort trying to remember key dates, landmark cases, and notable historians of the last century. My mind melted like a pile of oozing lava, because all I could focus on was tall tines, massive beams, and pulling the trigger on a northwestern Missouri whitetail.
I scribbled into the last bubble on the test form sheet and was thankfully released free for Christmas Break. My plan was to drive throughout the afternoon to Missouri. It would mean that I’d be burning rubber into the wee hours of the morning, but I was willing to, in order to fit a morning muzzleloader hunt in.
Northwestern Missouri is a spitting image of infamous Iowa. The land is carved with creeks, checker boarded with agriculture fields, and small parcels of trees winding across the rolling terrain. A vast majority of the male whitetail herd sport gigantic headgear and pack the pounds. The deer could be considered super-whitetail, considering the perfect recipe of land, deer management practices, and trophy genetics blend together and make this sweet concoction of whitetail paradise. Within the last few years, Missouri has ranked in the top five for savvy hunters dragging Boone & Crockett class bucks from their forest. It is no surprise when the area is covered with trophy animals.
I arrived to the official Border Bucks lodge this morning at 6am. The owner, Mr. Bill Hill and our guide, Dustin Fortner, happily greeted me. Both of these gentlemen are world-class people and whitetail wizards. I felt privileged to be at camp and experience the hype of hunting with this world-renowned outfitter. Mr. Hill has successfully downed an array of freak-nasty bucks in his time. The camp’s walls are a testimony of his passion and impressive accomplishments.
Mr. Hill’s hunting resume is infused with some of the most accomplished feats I’ve ever seen. He runs a strict, 140’ minimum and 8-point or better harvest rule. He prefers you don’t shoot any bucks that have a lot of busted tines or beams. Many of today’s most recognized hunting celebrities and TV hosts have also discovered the secret about northwestern Missouri. Realtree’s own, Bill Jordan and his son, Tyler were there a few years ago and laid down some incredible big buck footage that aired on ESPN.
I begin my hunt this evening. As many Midwesterners know, late season hunting can be fantastic. We’ve got the elements working for us as we speak. Cold weather, icy conditions, and heaping bounty of agriculture fields should boost our odds of striking a buck. Cut corn, soybean, and small custom food plots are strategically placed among all of the properties.
As I arrived, one of the clients harvested a giant 176-inch monster. The anticipation grows and escalates as I count down the minutes before I’m in stand. This will be my first time hunting in Missouri and marks my very first muzzleloader hunt of the year.
I will be excited in progressively developing my blog to relay my experience here. Good luck to all of those who are late season hunting. Stay warm and stay safe.
The bone-chilling Canadian air has settled across the Upper Midwest. Temperatures have plummeted into the negative degree marks and snow frosts landscapes as far as the eye can see. It is safe to say that winter is upon us.
Earlier this week Wisconsin was blanketed with a heap of snow. A blizzard from Canada broke over the border and annihilated the northern part of the United States. The storm blasted throughout the entire night and into the next day. We received over two feet of sloppy snow. In fact, nearly the entire state’s school systems closed their doors, including universities all across Wisconsin.
It’s amazing to attempt grasping how animals cope with paralyzing weather, such as deer for instance. I complain walking out the door every morning and having to start my vehicle so it can warm up. It takes a whole 30-seconds to accomplish this miserable feat, but I absolutely hate every second of it! Deer, along with every other animal that finds themselves hunkered into the woods, water, and fields, don’t bare it, they live it.
Deer walk on the tips of their toes, which are hooves. Hooves are equivalent to our toenails. They basically have no sense of feeling. If I were to walk barefoot in a foot of icy snow, my feet would turn purple! Deer don’t have feel extremely cold ground surfaces thanks to their hooves.
Whitetail will generally not move during extremely frigid temperatures. They will sit tight and conserve as much energy as they can. They will find food, bed near it, and lie low. This gives them an opportunity to survive during sub-arctic temperatures that we find common across the upper portions of the U.S. The hide that wraps their body is like a sleeping bag. Their fur is dense, which boosts their ability to stay warm.
Lastly, one of the most important points to note is that a whitetail’s blood-flow varies according to different situations and circumstances. In freezing climates, such as Minnesota and Upper Michigan, a whitetail’s blood flows to the brain and critical organs, such as the heart. The blood flow avoids the animals’ extremities because those are the least important parts of the body that will help them survive.
If a deer’s blood flowed to it’s legs, they’d lose heat and much colder blood would flow back into the deer’s body. This would make the animals much chillier and begin shutting down systems from hypothermia. The legs turn into a state of senselessness. This amazing capability of adaptation stirs my interest.
As humans drag out their winter jackets, snow-pants, and gloves, deer grow their own jacket and let there body systems take control. This is just another incredible attribute to the amazing whitetail world.
The blaze orange army of 600,000-plus raided the woods in search of a trophy last weekend. Wisconsin’s opening weekend of firearm season didn’t begin with a big bang like previous years. It sounded more like a dud.
Many reasons for the lack of deer sightings were passed among hunting families over the dinner table. Many high hopes and big anticipations evolved into despair. Wisconsin’s opening weekend deer count was down 33,000 for several reasons.
As the dawn of gun season shadowed and the hungry hunters began drooling for daylight, a blanket of fog choked the forest. A cloud of white concealed any sort of life that stretched passed twenty yards! I’ve never seen anything quite like it. Many hunters complained of hearing footsteps, grunts, and crunches in the leaves, but couldn’t identify the source.
Many giant whitetails bearing a set of massive antlers escaped the gun down phase of the morning. The fog didn’t lift until around noon. The gunshot count was as low as it would be in muzzleloader season. A faint crackle ignited the woods every now and again, but not nearly to the typical standards of opening weekend’s firework show.
The overwhelmingly strange weather also infringed on the deer sightings. The muggy weather tempted many hunters to remove several layers of clothing articles by around eleven! The temperatures rose to nearly sixty-degrees in some parts of Wisconsin, which flat-lined the deer movement considerably. Many deer hugged shady areas and bluff ledges to cool off and hide from hunters. As many of you know, weather affects every bit of animal activity.
Lastly, the most credible reason hunters from across the state spotted far less deer than usual was because of the Wisconsin DNR’s faulty deer estimation. The DNR reported that there was an overabundance of whitetail in Wisconsin. They proceeded to condense the population of deer by implementing programs that focused on culling doe; in fact, a lot of doe. Nearly half of the state has been in “Earn-a-Buck,” for the last handful of years. The “Earn-a-Buck” program challenges hunters to harvest a doe before pulling the trigger on a buck. The herd reduction program didn’t stop there. Many parts of the state that were not included in “Earn-a-Buck” sported a “T-Zone,” which is an all out doe hunting blitz with a rifle during archery season. Free doe tags were given out when you made your license purchase, which could be used for units of Wisconsin that were designated to “T-Zone.”
Both programs have effectively reduced the once thriving deer herd in Wisconsin, but some say it’s gone too far. We cannot forget that the bottom of the entire state is still locked in a “CWD Zone.” The zone gives hunters an opportunity to harvest an endless amount of deer. For every one doe that you shoot, a buck tag is handed to you. It has been another extremely controversial program setup by the Wisconsin DNR.
It isn’t often that hunter’s criticize the DNR, considering they are the protectors and stewards of our environment. The feelings soon turn raw once hunters feel cheated. The DNR has admitted to overestimating the deer herd. Now it’s time for the DNR to go back to the statistics, estimations, and records and begin a new phase of duty, which is helping the whitetail population of Wisconsin increase.
The last image burnt into my tattered mind was a faint image of my mother’s face before my body shattered onto the cold forest floor. Am I alive?
We’ve heard that 80% of tree stand accidents happen when hunters climb in and out of the stand. Last week I became a statistic, a statistic that changed my life. I feel blessed to be here writing about my experience and hope to raise awareness to the hunting population that safety is so crucial while outdoors.
The past weekend marked my 22nd birthday. I was finally able to cram an entire weekend’s worth of homework and job duties into the middle of the week, allowing me to escape back home Saturday and Sunday. Spending time with loved ones is extremely important to me. I value every waking moment spent with my mother and sisters. As another birthday rolls in and cards fill the mailbox, I take a different perspective on what my day earth means to me. I dearly thank my mother for raising me correctly and honor the sacrifices she made for the betterment of my sisters and me. It’s not about the gifts, cakes, or glory, but about the moments cherished with the people dear to your heart.
My plan was to spend Saturday afternoon in the woods hunting, doing something I can’t get enough of and absolutely love. At dark, my mother had my favorite dinner prepared with a mouthwatering cake and ice cream to compliment the meal fit for a king. The thought was nice and surely comforted my food deprived stomach as I walked into the woods, but what happened next changed the entire course of my evening plans.
I slowly tiptoed down a deer path en route to my tree stand. The wind was calm, breeze was cool, and my hopes were sky high. As I approached my stand, I unraveled my rope and latched it to my bow’s cam. I eased my bow down cautiously as the rope’s slack tightened. I was ready to scale up the ladder. So I thought.
A backpack full of grunt tubes, rattling horns, and a miscellaneous array of hunting gear shifted back-n-forth against my back as I climbed the ladder rungs. My cumbersome rubber boots took up the entire rung, with only centimeters of excess space. The stand was finally in sight. I motioned to lift myself into the stand, like I’ve done hundreds of times before, but this time was different.
My bulky camo boot slipped off the top ladder rung and sent my balance a rude awakening. The backpack weighted my back towards the opposite direction. I was literally freefalling in midair. It was a nightmare, but I didn’t seem to wake up in my bed in a cold sweat. I was plummeting head first into the frozen tundra. The fall was swift. I had enough time to think about my family one more time before I readied myself for the 20-ft spiral.
My right hand instantly stretched toward the earth while my face cringed. I knew this was going to hurt. It did, badly. A sudden impact of sheer body weight against pure earth collapsed my body into a pile of reckless pain and agony. I quivered like a bird that fell from its nest. I frantically gasped for air, but nothing would fill my lungs other than piercing needle-like pains. I was shocked, but somehow alive.
An instant adrenaline rush fused my body into gathering itself, and I slowly stumbled back to my vehicle. Blood oozed from my nose, trickled down my chin, and stained my camouflage coat. I hobbled my broken body back to the truck and drove myself straight to the emergency room.
Hours of x-rays proved that my body took a blow. I fractured ribs, my scapula, and sprained my legs. The doctor advised I rest and take it easy. I was convinced my bones were broken, but the doctor said otherwise.
On my drive home I realized how lucky I was to fight off busted bones, a broken back or even worse, death. I enjoyed my dinner with the family that evening, but it was a dinner that meant more to me than I’ve ever imagined.
More than 30% of hunters die annually from falling 20-ft. up. The statistic elevates as the height of the fall increased. We must all be aware that safety is our number one priority. I’ve been lucky to have years of safe trips up and down trees, but there was just something different about last weekend. Please be careful and cautious during your next adventure.
November 12, 2009
A Kink in the Rut
– By Brandon Wikman
Across the Midwest hunters have been awaiting this precious time. A time when people take off work, skip school, and use those sick days to their advantage. It’s the whitetail rut!
The rut may be in full swing, but the intensity of the lovesick chase is dwindling by day. Bucks that are love-struck and seeking a companion that’s willing to give in is hard to find when most of the activity is occurring at night. The rut is just as glamorous as the weather this time of year. When the weather is mild, so is the daylight activity. Bucks tend to move during the cooler hours of dawn and dusk, which puts hunters in a predicament.
It’s clear to say that the moment of truth can happen at any given time during this period of the rut, but the odds plummet drastically. Deer are lugging around a thick and burly winter jacket right now. They don’t like to move as much when temperatures escalate. In fact, it’s proven that whitetail movement decreases and the heat index increases. Deer waylay throughout the day and hit up a late night fiesta. It would be like you or I tossing on extreme arctic weather clothing and running laps around our house. Not fun.
I’ve been filming for my cousin for the last week. He’s yet to score on a buck this season, but like most, he’s hitting the woods hard right now. It is fascinating to witness how dramatically the weather influences deer movement from our point-of-view. Last week the weather was very brisk. A cold front stormed through the Midwest and the woods went bonkers. We camped out all day in the stand and saw bucks cruising throughout the day. In fact, every single hour in stand proved to be incredible. It wasn’t a day after when things changed, for the worse.
An unseasonal high pressure system boosted the temperatures into the mid-50s by day and 40’s by night. We were both hoping for the best, but had an idea things weren’t going to go our way. Needless to say, the only movement we saw was a few dink bucks during first and last light. I’ve been looking at the weather forecast for the next few days. It doesn’t look good. The upper Midwest will be seeing temperatures jumping to the 60’s by the weekend, which is near record highs for most states during November! It is a dreary thought, but the weather is beyond our control. We are able to reduce our odors, choose our locations, and so much more, but we can’t change the weather.
My best advice is to focus on bedding areas during dawn and dusk. The mid-day rutting activity will slow down to a dribble. We are planning to hunt mornings and evenings, and save our backs and behinds some trouble.
I wish everyone the best as we approach the middle of November. This is a time when many hunters find their dreams evolving into a reality. Hunt hard, hunt safe and good luck!
This is my favorite time of year. The forests across the Midwest have been charmed with splashes of magnificent color. Vibrant reds, awesome oranges, and pretty purples fill the woodland canopy. To me, the only verification of fall is a transformation of colors and the sound of stampeding bucks hounding doe. Now, I am finally convinced.
Fall is a wonderful time of year to experience nature’s one last gasp of fresh air. The wildlife is plentiful and scenic beauty is marvelous. Not too long after this season comes winter, which stains our illuminant landscape pure white. I’ve always relished the moments spent outdoors during this period of time. It’s what I always remember when I think of hunting, fishing, and spending time lavishing in nature. The weather is typically cool and the breeze is always refreshing. The fragrance of our natural environment has never been so inviting. The strong aromas of leaves bursting into decomposition happen to be a true scent of relaxation.
There are few better places to experience the full-fledged fall sensation firsthand than Buena Vista Park, in Alma, Wis. Last weekend I visited the magnificent spectacle. Buena Vista Park overlooks the entire Alma community. Thousands of feet above the Mississippi River, the park towers into the clouds. Once on this hill of destiny, a person can see miles upon miles into the vast land of western Wisconsin and eastern Minnesota.
I sat on the rock ledge for an hour soaking in the view. I spotted boats from afar drifting into the harbor and bicyclists pedaling down the wooded trails. I may have been alone on the cliff, but my heart and soul hasn’t felt anymore comforted.
Sometimes it’s the natural cures in life that mend the wounds of battling everyday life. There are no prescriptions, drugs, or stimulants that will ever give you the feeling that nature does. It is truly a medicine that costs no more than an afternoon adventure.
If you have the chance to spend time outdoors with your friends or family, I’d advise you to do so now. There are no greater memories made in the field and woods than with the people you’ve come to love and respect.
There’s nothing that refreshes a memory better than an actual photographic print. I love taking pictures of my prized animals for several reasons. A snapshot can be tossed around and showcased to friends or family. Some photos can be sent to magazines and newspapers running their annual “Big Buck Contests.” My favorite reason to take pictures is simple. I just love looking at them! Whether they’re placed into a fancy frame, tossed into an album, or filed into a heaping pile of family photos, pictures truly do say a thousand words.
I’ve included three basic photo-taking principles that I abide by. These are general rules that many other outdoor writers and photographers follow. Below you will find three different ways how not to take a picture of your wild game.
The ‘Terrible’ Tailgate I’ve always been known to be the guy who’d hop on the tailgate of my truck and have a pal snap a few quick pictures of me wrestling my deer into frame. Not only did it look gaudy, but truly juvenile. After getting older and more mature, I felt that I needed to show more respect for the animal. The pictures taken from the back of a truck aren’t as glamorous as placing the animal in the natural setting of where it was harvested.Take time to prop the animal into a bedding position overlooking a hillside, river, or pasture. This will give you a fond memory and feel for how the hunt unraveled. I know that you’ll appreciate the photos for years to come by captivating the true feelings of the outdoors.
The ‘Bloody’ Buck I’ve hunted for ten years and have been blessed to wrap my hands around a few sets of charming antler. I still acquire a sour feeling when I see a photo of a deer smeared in red. The outcome of killing an animal can be a bloody mess, but there is no reason to exemplify the gruesomeness.I always carry a set of paper towels with me to cleanly wipe away excess blood on the face and chest of an animal. Imagine the feeling an anti-hunting group would have. It would only add more fuel to the fire. It’s important to take all necessary precautions to treat your kill with the utmost respect and do it by taking care of it. Treating your kill with honor speaks volumes for not only you, but also the entire hunting community.
The Deer Rider Deer are meant for showcasing, not riding. I’ve had several friends that have been caught on camera sitting on the back of a buck, cranking its antlers back and smiling cheerfully. These types of poses look very unprofessional and beg for a good chuckle. Typically you saddle up a horse, not a whitetail.There are several alternative ways to take quality photos with your deer, hopping on its back isn’t one of them.
I’ve learned that placing deer in a bedding position for pictures is the most eye-catching. Tuck the animal’s legs underneath its belly and sit or kneel behind the animal. Lift up his head by muscling up one side of the antler. You can pose him anyway you’d like. I prefer facing the buck’s nose directly at the camera. Now smile big!
Taking quality field photos can swallow a little time and effort. They require a slight bit of planning and creativity. I consider it all a part of the hunting experience. You invest thousands of dollars in purchasing hunting equipment; spend countless hours in stand, and now its time to celebrate your accomplishment! Ask yourself, what are a couple more hours to ensure that you’ll have a stellar photo to share with family, friends, and hunting partners for the rest of your life.
There’s nothing quite like the excitement of slapping a trail camera against a fresh tree overlooking a totally new area. Yesterday I hopped in my truck after class and sunk my rubber boots into an area that’s shielded from human existence.
I’ve always searched for different spots where no hunter has set foot. It is obviously near impossible discovering a place so void of human sign. Hunters and hikers have made a slight indentation on nearly every sand, snow and ice granule across the planet. After countless hours staring at Google Earth, I was able to find a hunting spot that is dislocated from any roads, four-wheel trails and public access. It’s not often when you find a potential sweet spot buried in the map, hidden from even the keenest set of outdoorsman eyes. I was just plain lucky, so I thought.
After packing up a few of my Moultrie cams, I burnt rubber and ventured into the woods. A backpack is a wise idea to bring with you on any journey. I was able to fit a few cameras, bait and water bottles to quench my thirst after an endless trek into no-man’s land. I felt as prepared as I could be for a new exploration. High hopes complimented a silly grin as I gave my best attempt to lose myself in nature. The smile didn’t last long.
The walk was brutal. A map only shows a simple illustration of terrain. Needless to say, I found myself battling impenetrable patches of thorn bushes, waist high swamp waters and viscous swarms of blood thirsty mosquitoes! I was about as unprepared as a hunter without his weapon. I wore shorts and a short-sleeve shirt, which was a huge mistake. The thorns sunk into my naked skin like razor blades. I forgot to bring any type of mosquito spray. In fact, the scratches and cuts on my arm made me even more attractive as prey for bugs. I turned my own body into a dinner platter for swamp critters. When I arrived at the halfway point, things got real ugly. I escaped the dagger field and eluded most of the swarms of bugs, but when I thought things couldn’t get any worse, they surely did.My knee-high boots vanished into the depths of a seemingly endless mud hole. Black water oozed into my boot as I desperately struggled to win back my leg. Sludge-choked water nipped at my toes until my entire boot filled with swamp water. I had it. I was done.
My risky business of venturing into the hellhole of an abandoned marsh wasn’t the brightest idea I’ve ever stumbled upon. I found myself pulling a 180-degree turn the heck out of there! Sometimes I think we as hunters try way too hard trying to find the most out of reach location on earth to hang a stand. It always makes me laugh (not really) when I hear hunters say they shot their giant buck a mere couple hundred yards behind their house. It never ceases to amaze me how the whitetail brain works, but I think we can all ask an even better question…how in the world does our mind wrap around the concept of trying to nail everything a deer would know? It is better left unsaid.
At the end of a tireless, wet and distasteful voyage into the cattails, my job isn’t done yet. I will sling a Moultrie around a tree down there, but just not today.
Welcome to the month of October. It’s a time when the nights becomes cooler, and the days become increasingly shorter. More importantly, it’s a time when whitetails make a sudden juke on our scheming hunting blitz.I embellish the vitality of seeking brutes on brisk November mornings, but I’m usually lucky enough to have my opponent in the freezer by then. You’ve heard it said by TV hosts, outdoor writers, and seminar speakers over and over, “focus on main food sources that arouse the whitetail’s craving”. Soybeans, corn, alfalfa, and acorns are a popular choice of groceries in the Midwest. Deer indulge on farmers’ painstaking long hours of hard work in the fields, but there’s one problem.
Once the velvet vanishes, so too the handsome racked bucks from the harvested fields. It’s an ongoing cycle that happens every year about this time. People are dumbfounded by the process and truly believe high classed whitetail have a calendar memory chip deep inside their brain focused on the day of deer season. “They just disappear,” is a common quote I often hear.
Deer patterns change, food sources deplete, and human disturbance rises, which lead deer to flee. Unless you have whitetail on the Atkins diet, the animal has got to eat! Nutrition is a vital role in the life of a whitetail. Many of my friends are clueless to this ritualistic evolution of deer vanishing theory. It is often my same friends who don’t think outside the box. They never dig into the real meaning of why deer move or relocate during this time. Mature bucks would rather yawn in their beds and take a load off until the fresh dusk aerates the forest. They sit tight and in no hurry, while the hunter watches their optic fibers fade with the sunset.
To resolve this issue we must quit hunting field edges and get back into the forage. Once deep within the forest, look for acorn ridges, clover patches, or any scrumptious treat for deer to eat for an appetizer. Bucks and does alike will bypass time in these staging areas where they feel safe. Until the sun sleeps and the tree frogs socialize, then deer will sneak to their dinner in stealth mode.
Opening day of last year I participated in a management archery hunt. I tracked the field edge, found a trail that was trampled and followed it back until I found acorn heaven. I placed a stand and the same day I blew threw a hefty doe. The doe was simply eating appetizers before the main course of voluptuous alfalfa. Sometimes the forgotten spots are just under our feet.
Don’t be afraid to slip into the woods a hundred yards. There is more opportunity of spotting a buck in a staging area tucked inside the woods than having him flaunt his antlers in the middle of an alfalfa field. With that said, venturing too far inside his safe haven will hurt your odds of ever seeing him again. I always use the expression, “knock at his door, but never walk into his room.” You want to be smack-dab in the middle of things. Assume your position in the woods between the two hottest places in a buck’s mind during October.
The forest’s canopy is choked with heavy green foliage wrapping around limbs, while the floor’s scattered with gold nuggets of prized acorns. There’s no better time to be hunting Buffalo County, Wisconsin than right now!
The Wisconsin archery season is underway. The weather has been unseasonably warm, which burns much opportunity of spotting a giant during daylight. As I prepped for my weekend adventure with Bluff Bucks Outfitters, I couldn’t help but notice the forecast. A heat index flirting in the 80-degree mark scorched my hopes of slaying a true trophy. So I thought.
Butch Fox, the owner of Bluff Bucks Outfitters, pinpointed a picture-perfect stand site, which would drown the worries of scorching heat. We decided that our best bet would be overlooking a small manmade drinking hole. I strongly agreed that our only chance of spotting a heat-exhausted whitetail was with its head sunk into a refreshing pond of water.
Fox has several stand sites built with a mindset of early season hunting. He explained that hunting small ponds during the early season and rut are a huge splash in his successful outfitting business. A 20-foot stand overlooked a small staging area, which led into a blooming food plot. A mixture of soybeans, sunflowers, forage peas, and much more! The staging area was tucked-in from the food source about sixty yards and sported a thirst-quenching pond with a congestion of deer trails wrapping everywhere.
My cameraman, who was Dick Gunther, owner of Dick’s Whitetail Taxidermy, was just as stoked as I was to share a tree and hopefully slay a Buffalo County brute! We both scaled the bluff covered terrain as the sweat began oozing. Our setup was deep in the hills along a blanket of agriculture fields. As we approached the stand, we both sprayed down in scent-eliminating spray. It not only worked for terminating our scent, but also acted as a natural coolant!
As I approach a stand site, I’ll always toss down a scent trail no matter what time of season. I’ll simply cater the correct aroma to the time of year.
I sent Gunther up the tree first with a Hooyman handsaw so he’d be able to clear any branches for video. I anxiously waited at the base of the tree as chips of wood debris rained. After settling in, I tossed the rangefinder up and knocked out an array of distances as Gunther prepped the camera. It was obvious that the water hole was a popular destination after seeing a cluster of wildlife tracks smudged into the muddy outer walls. Times passed with each glitter of sunlight fading into the backside of a towering hilltop. Darkness began enveloping the forest floor. It was just starting to get prime.
My eyes snatched a glimpse of red fur atop the ridge ahead. I motioned to Gunther that we had a deer walking toward us. The slinky whitetail edged his way into the open after hiding himself in the thick underbrush. Rattling scrub bushes and waving weeds unveiled an outstanding whitetail buck. His tall tines and chocolate frame swayed as he dipped his mouth into the pond. I readied myself and closed my eyes to concentrate. My respiration jacked into overdrive as I huffed air inside my carbon-lined mask.
My bow rattled in my hands as Gunther documented each moment of big buck history. I cranked back my bow as soon as the buck turned to walk away. With the “okay” from Gunther, an arrow tore into the vitals. History was made.
I followed a steady trail of blood, which led me to my very first early season buck. The buck’s red coat glistened and short hair accentuated his muscle tone. It will not only make a beautiful mount, but also etched an incredible memory that neither Gunther nor I will ever forget.
Hanging high during the early season has proved to be a success. It was a head-to-head battle with relentless weather conditions. Luckily, the hunter came out the winner thanks to a great game plan. I’d like to thank Butch and Marc Fox of Bluff Bucks Outfitters for guiding me to an early season dream!
It’s not often that hunters face the serious predicament of allocating space for trophy buck mounts. Most hardcore head junkies would rip off their own family portrait to replace the empty spot with a magnificent shoulder mount.
Typically, hunters find themselves lucky to knock down a good buck that deserves wall status every few years, but not for two of the most buck-ridden diehards I know; Butch and Marc Fox of Bluff Bucks Outfitters.
I’ve had the pleasure of hunting with the Fox’s during their initial start as a full-service outfitter in Buffalo County, Wisconsin. Bluff Bucks Outfitters (BBO) was a new face on the already cluttered map of guides, outfits, and mom n’ pop fly-by-night hunting businesses scattered along the Mississippi River region. After receiving the invitation to jump up a tree in hunter-heaven to film an episode for my show, I soon realized that this outfit was here to stay. From that day forward, the Fox’s and I have become more than friends, almost a family.
Both father (Butch) and son (Marc) slammed Booners during the same month last year. As incredible as that spectacle was, there’s nothing that shakes your soul more than seeing their new trophy den!
As the outfitting business grew, Butch had no choice but to expand the lodge to accommodate more hunters. As more land is leased, more hunters are welcome. And as more hunters are booking, more living space is necessary. As funny as it is, I still poke fun with Butch by telling him that he just wanted more space to hang heads! He just laughs and shakes his head. The scary part of the equation is that he literally ran out of space to hang any more bucks. From bedroom-to-bedroom, each corner of the upstairs, and every centimeter downstairs was chocked full of giant whitetails plastered on the wall. If a non-hunter was to walk in the house they’d think that this was some kind of whitetail deer museum.
Now with more space than ever to provide elegant comforts for his clients, the Fox’s now have a cathedral ceiling that’s sky high and beautifully showcasing a collection of giant deer. Each shoulder mount holds a fond and precious memory in our lives. It’s a peculiar fascination of reflection that drives our mind to ease.
I will be making my way over to BBO this weekend to archery hunt the early season. With any luck at all, maybe I’ll be able to throw one of my trophies this year in the BBO big buck gallery!
Deep in the impenetrable, moss-infested bush of northwestern Ontario lays a land untamed and merciless to the heart of a city dweller. An environment choked with tangles of vegetation, sculpted by ancient rock bed cliffs, and home to some of the most sought after big game species in North America: monstrous black bear.
My cousin, Joe Nawrot, and I ventured into the north woods of a land lost in its own beauty and mystic. We brought with us video equipment, archery gear, and a grueling intention to defeat the black beast of the boondocks. Our journey provided us with a humbling experience to hunt with the most legendary Canadian outfitter in the entire province of Ontario; Dan Schafer, owner of Cygnet Lake Camps. Schafer hosts an enchanting vacation for those looking for a week spent in paradise. Cygnet Lake Camp is home to the finest fishing, hunting, and soul soothing excursions. It was my time to embark and make peace with a Canadian wilderness adventure.
The enduring pursuit to outwit a bear by bow n’ arrow has always been one of my most desired goals. I lugged the title of rookie bear hunter, but sported a relentless attitude to learn the craft of the trade. My mind sopped with information that Schafer flooded me with. Fine details that wise bear hunters like him could slowly drip into quenching amounts of vital information.
He explained that bears are extremely difficult to judge by size because they are completely shaded in black, a statement that fashion aficionado can attest! Bears are also super-stealthy. Many newbie hunters are baffled by the way bears silently drift through the forest like they’re walking on air. By the time Schafer finished wrapping up his sneak-peak course of Bear 101, I had my homework cutout for me.
The Canadian terrain may look marvelous to the casual observer, but don’t let the pretty looks deceive you. Unveil the mask of splendor and you find a hostile environment swallowed with flooded timber, bottomless marshes, and raging rapids of water tumbling from the skyscraping cliffs. The word “wilderness,” now resonates a whole new meaning to me.
The trek to the tree stand was an adventure in itself. An ATV was our means of transportation. The four-wheelers cut into the crusted moss beds that clung onto ancient boulders and fallen trees. An entire new habitat caked in spectacular colors of green decorated the depths of the spruce forests. Throughout the ATV venture, we slopped through puddles of muck, scaled stairs of protruding rock, and tore into scenery that echoed with mystery. The walk into the jungle began as the turkey trail transitioned into a simple footpath. As I walked along the trail with dazzling eyes of curiosity, I was in awe of how few people left their footprint in a land so virgin of human destruction. A humbled sensation of adoration crammed my soul with glee until it nearly exploded at the sight of a ladder stand in the distance.
The hunt for black bear began as I nestled myself into the mid-level branches of a spruce tree. My eyes scanned the snarled forest that hummed a nasty melody from an infestation of bloodthirsty mosquitoes. Wisely, I sat content with my bug-suit that shielded my skin from the annoyance of pesky bugs.
Moments passed slowly. Each waking minute purified my soul and sanitized my mind. I showered in a natural cleanse of Mother Nature; scrubbing the brilliance of wilderness and majesty of nature into my memory. My movements were slow and cautious. Each glance from side-to-side took a scrupulous amount of analyzing the twisted timber for a colossal mass of charcoaled hair.
As beams of glowing sunlight flirted with the Canadian horizon, pink shadows of streaming ribbons festooned the dusky sky. My eyes winced into the blockade of forage as I spotted movement beneath a cluster of white birch trees. A blob of black, which looked as dark as ink, sauntered toward my direction. From the shadows of the murky forest loomed a beast of the night.
My quivering arms snagged my bow as he eased closer. With each step the bear took, my eyes became larger and larger. My heart ached with pulsations of nervous excitement as my conscious failed miserably as a seasoned guide. I was as frazzled as a ball of yarn tattered by a militia of viscous cats. As my bow peaked and broadhead cocked into firing position, I let go!
The carbon arrow pierced into the giant’s vitals. The shot found its mark. I mustered a shriek of thrill that could be heard from the next hillside. My bear hunt was completely accomplished.
Echoes of life still resonate within as I recollect the fond chronicles of the north woods. The Canadian wilderness is home to awe-inspiring scenery freckled with translucent lakes clustered with fish and bountiful forests hiding an assortment of wild game. As any true hunter would realize; the harvest only lasts a mere second, but the entire hunting adventure lasts a lifetime.
Some people find escape and diversion from everyday life in material items. They discover a single flare of content with simple tangible goods, but soon realize that their fate is left in shreds of momentary value. The secret of life is decorating your soul with ornaments of perpetual beauty that blossoms from God’s greatest bounty.
The arresting fascination of the wilderness has embraced a fairytale charm through the hearts of homebodies seeking grace. Virgin eyes can only attempt creating foggy parodies of what energy the Canadian wilderness would bring to their spirit. The sight of soft speckled sunlight glimmering through the canopy of birch trees; fresh spring water bubbling from a hillside blanketed with flowers meandering through a meadow; spruce trees plastered with white moss as if it were Christmas in the middle of summer. It is these spectacles of Mother Nature that marry our imagination with reality.
In today’s spoon-fed culture where materialistic fascinations of desire penetrate far deeper into the psyche than our conscious mind can even drift; we step into our own hell. Our intellect is carried and passed from precedent generations of want and desire. A mindless craze saturated with media manipulation and a congestion of celebrity do’s and don’ts. Much of society has slowly evolved into a compulsive product of tomorrow’s technology and urgency.
We’ve grown ignorant of the simplicities in life and maintain a hasty cycle of monotony throughout our existence. The world strays through a garden of gold blindfolded and oblivious to the riches buried beneath each blessed day.
Self-gratification is prized as what type of interior our vehicle sports. Modesty has slowly deteriorated from a mindset that solely craves triumph upon scaling the so-called “ladder of success.” Our culture has banded together to blend a poisonous concoction that consists of fame, fortune, and greed. Countless numbers of anemic souls suckle off the drips of toxic media corruption only to find their selves thirsting for another serving.
Too many of us are already dead. The essence of life must be altered back into a realistic perspective. Families must harbor the values of love, time, and tradition to maintain a steadfast birth of contentment. Traveling down the path of least resistance requires nothing more than an attitude lacking ambition and curiosity.
A week spent lavishing in the bush at Cygnet Lake Camp in northwestern Ontario has cleansed my tarnished soul. Relishing the moments of solitude tames the beast within. Inhaling a breath of clean air has never felt so good.
The untamed wilderness has a mystical way of bridging the gap that separates our heart from mind. Tranquility cannot be impersonated from the confinements of our home, but sprouted from the waving pastures of wild flowers. The cascading waterfalls upon ancient moss infested boulders. The teeny droplets of sparkling dew clung glowing on a spider web at dawn. These are a compilation of life’s’ greatest fairytales that you won’t find in your library.
Purify your livelihood by medicating life with a dose of Mother Nature. It will transform the way you live.
I’d like to thank Dan Schafer, owner of Cygnet Lake Camp, for providing me with the time of my life.
As darkness shadows beyond the vast horizon and evening transforms into night, we are all left mystified in what creatures lurk the forest floor.
A timeframe when all previous apparent facts about giant whitetails are twisted into guesses, theories and speculations. The only distinct manner of pursuing these nocturnal nightmares is through the covert use of scouting cameras, which unveil the identity of many true legendary whitetails that may be prowling the property you hunt.
Whitetails are quick to react, whether it’s through their developed notion of predatory senses or perhaps their keen logic to discover food nearly everywhere they habituate. These animals are quite possibly the most underestimated creatures in the wild, especially when we talk about uncanny mature bucks; seasoned beyond all instances they seem to live a solitaire life isolated in nearly every form from their own counterparts.
We all begin our undercover whitetail investigations during the summer, where we can actually spot bucks from a distance, while they demolish soybean and alfalfa fields. Although, we are left uncertain on what deer move during the brink of night. Scouting cameras have revolutionized the way the hunting community and I hunt. As a broke college student with no time to spare, living in the confinements of what we’ve all come to know as, ‘the dorm,’ it’s virtually impossible to scout, hunt and be successful without the aid of cameras.
A hunter without a scouting camera is like a carpenter without his hammer. They are a way for us to capture vital information on a daily, weekly, or monthly basis. Scouting cameras are another pair of eyes in the woods, but without the worry of our scent or time availability.
Butch Fox of Bluff Bucks Outfitters, owner of one of the most successful whitetail outfits in the Midwest says, “We set out a dozen cameras during July and anticipate what deer we’ve grown from the previous year. It not only gives us an estimation of the quality of bucks on each land parcel, but also how much they’ve grown. We’ve specifically used cameras as our assistants, but they’ve also become my actual hunting guides, with unlimited information that defines several choices I make as an outfitter.”
I use Moultrie game cameras for several reasons. First and foremost because of they’re affordability, which I’ve actually accounted for in my college life. Which means I can purchase books and pay tuition, while still being able to afford a few cameras! They have an incredibly fast trigger speed, their easy to use and most important, efficient.
Every year it seems a new product is introduced into the industry, which dazzles the hunting community. I believe the scouting camera has done so for the past few years and their only going to get better. Performing the techniques used by professionals and tailoring it to your property can be a revelation in the way you begin to hunt.
Evaluating the information you receive on your cameras and tracing it to the property you hunt can be an intense step-by-step investigation that triggers valuable insight. Cameras give us a chance to “be there,” yet not really, “be there.” They’re truly a great device that has the capability of broadening our comprehension on deer movement and putting us on the right trail at the right time.
Most exciting, they reveal hidden messages that we all urge to decipher in the mysterious world of the whitetail underground, although we take every resource possible to understand these creatures, we will never fully understand the enigma completely.
Carelessly plopping a tent blind into a mature whitetail’s domain is risky business when you don’t take the neccessary precautious. You must have a strategic plan of action that revolves around a flawless approach. Whether you’re hanging high in the treetops or tucked into the brush at ground level with a tent blind, hunting mature whitetail deer requires an original methodology.
Every savvy buck hunter can easily attest that mature deer are apt to spook from tent blinds. Their camouflage wrap doesn’t hide its boxy figure and obtrusive configuration. If a tent blind isn’t placed in a spot for weeks before season, deer will avoid it like a plague. Hunting blinds form a noticeable force field for the first few weeks of placement. Deer would rather keep a safe distance from the foreign object.
One way to mask a blind is to brush it into its surroundings to prevent deer from spooking. Many new and improved blinds offer both top and bottom loops that weave a 360-degree concealment system around the tent. Every time I place a blind into the forest, I’m very keen on making sure it has background and frontal cover. I use my hand saw to zip into the bark of branches, bushes, or stalks to decorate my shooting house. It breaks up the outline and decreases the shagged edges that deer seem to key into. Buying an inexpensive ground blind requires much more work than just unzipping the carrying bag and planting it into the woods. If you are willing to pay a little more for quality and value, some blinds don’t require any brushing in at all!
My favorite benefit for using blinds is that I can place them anywhere in the field and deer won’t hesitate to give it a second glance if it’s covertly hidden. They are extremely versatile and can be easily moved according to where you anticipate deer to travel coinciding with wind direction. Most are fairly waterproof and prevent you leaving the woods early from an all out rainstorm. The vast majority of blinds are also lined with black interior to prevent game from seeing you. Blinds are a necessity in my neck of the woods.
Hunters who understand the value of slipping into the confinements of a quality blind that blends into the surrounding landscape find them extremely useful. There ease-of-use and user-friendly adaptability is what increase the odds of success in the field and forest chasing whitetail deer.
As the summer heat begins to slowly melt into the coming fall season, there’s no better time than now to plan a camping trip with a friend or family!
I’ve put camping on the backburner for years. I’ve always wanted to camp somewhere other than my backyard. Last week my cousin and I finally said that enough was enough! We packed our tents, clothes, cooler, and food into the truck and headed to northern Wisconsin. The woodland parks of Wisconsin provide exceptional campsites for the public to enjoy. Camping out under the stars with a stoked and blazing fire nearby is what makes the outdoors surreal.
I assigned my cousin, Joe, to select a town where we’d stake camp. He picked a small village on the map that was known for a few of the finer things in life; camping, fishing, and tourist attractions. I was extremely excited to hear him say Hayward, Wis,!
Thousands of outdoor enthusiasts venture north every summer to experience the outdoorsy atmosphere Hayward provides. Barely 2,500 people call the city home, but the economy booms with forest loving campers, savvy fishermen, and a frenzy of visitors to the National Freshwater Fishing Hall of Fame.
Joe and I arrived at a local campground during the mid-morning. I unpacked the truck, while he pitched the tents. It was such a great feeling to be doing something I always wanted to experience, but never had the opportunity. The reason that my cousin and I never could make arrangements was because of conflicting work schedules, school, and other events planned during the typical frantic summer. We made up for lost time by planning an entire three days worth of sightseeing, fishing, and relaxing.
The first day we visited the National Freshwater Fishing Hall of Fame, where the world’s largest musky sculpture sits. The museum showcased an array of beautiful aquariums that detailed hundreds of fish species. A collection of ancient fishing lures hung vibrantly in every shape and size imaginable. The museum was a great escape into the world of fishing, which sparked an ambition to head to the nearest lake and try our luck.
Our campsite was conveniently located near a lakeshore and provided a perfect chance to sink a few lures into the water. We grabbed our fishing poles and fished off the beach. Joe and I fished for the entire evening pulling in schools of small bass. Each bass we caught was tossed back into the water. The glowing sunset foreboded darkness, which forced us back to the campsite where we started our fire and prepared dinner. The only proper dinner for two young men camping is hot dogs and bratwursts over an open flame.
We roasted our makeshift dinner over the glowing embers and flames with laughs of memories. A collection of deer hunting stories, good times, and bad times entertained our minds as we enjoyed the final scraps of our hearty dinner. It was an experience that soothed the soul and brought us both back to the wonderful world of the woods.
Camping is an enriching experience that brings you closer to not only Mother Nature, but also your loved ones. It provides an up close and personal intimacy with the forest that revitalizes the soul. Make your next vacation a camping trip. Bring a tent, backpack full of clothes, marshmallows, chocolate, and graham crackers for s’mores and leave with a greater appreciation for the outdoors!
Summer seems to strike a golden chord with savvy archers awaiting the opener. It is a time when we prep ourselves mentally and physically for the dawning of a new season that lies only weeks ahead. Our goals are set, anticipation is high, and now we sit tight, holding on to last year’s cherished memories. These recollections will soon evolve into this year’s fresh moments of enlightenment as we move into the later stages of summer.
This time of the year is always my most difficult time to cope with. Like many hunters, my calendar counts down the days until opening weekend of archery season. Deer season couldn’t come any sooner, but as it often does for many of us, by September we are wishing we’d put an extra few days of planting food plots, checking cameras, and scouting. Instead of daydreaming about the season, take action to make it the best hunt of your life by successfully preparing a game plan.
During different stages of the day, my mind departs and wanders into the forest. My imagination strolls down deer trails, overlooks hunting property from a birds-eye-view, and plants rich food plots in areas I’d never step camouflage boot in. During the afternoon grind reality splinters the ceiling of my office into tiny fragments of ideas and chunks of drywall clobber me over the head bringing an unsettled ambition to create one more nutritious plot, hang another stand, and burn more gas taking rides around the block with my binoculars strung around my neck. It is these small innovations of strategy that will make us all more successful hunters.
During the next few weeks I will be taking advantage of the extra time by hanging a few more stands around a freshly planted food plot that will be monitored by my handy game camera. Deer are constantly mowing greens right now. You will find bucks juicing-up on protein rich foods that will help them build muscle for the November brawls that lie ahead. Does are not so different. They are inhaling masses of soybean, alfalfa, and clover, which helps them feed their young. I’ve always found that placing my trail camera along field edges during this time of year yields many more photos.
As the shadows of dusk blanket the horizon, mature whitetails step foot into the limelight. It is a perfect time burn a few miles and ignite buck fever by driving around the areas you hunt. I will often times park behind brush or a wall of trees to remain hidden as I drool at the velvet covered bone from the eye-piece of my spotting scope. There’s nothing like glassing fields that are speckled with monster whitetail and knowing your tree stand’s only yards away. You must ask yourself, “Are you ready?”
Many hunters sit back and relax as opening day pulls the carpet from beneath their spotless boots. Prepare yourself now so you can pull the rug from beneath that buck’s hooves!
Months of endless planning, tireless preparation, and continuous perseverance made last weekend’s camp a total success. A classroom full of eager kids and a handful of great volunteers helped create a once in a lifetime experience for the next generation of outdoors people.
This marked the 2nd annual Wik’s World Outdoors Camp experience. Now that I had the first year under my belt and a firm understanding of scheduling, seminars, and interactive sessions, I was able to create an entire day’s worth of outdoors lessons.
I added a few new demonstrations and attractions to this year’s camp. A new addition to the seminar room was the replica of Bob Decker’s giant deer, which was shot last fall in Buffalo County, Wisconsin. The hunting community knew the walking Wisconsin record throughout last summer by its nickname, which was called the legendary Field and Stream Buck. Decker was kind enough to let me showcase his Wisconsin non-typical record whitetail at the camp for hundreds of dazzled eyes to see. The buck scored a whopping 233-¼ inches. Teenagers stood motionless in awe gazing at the famous buck. It gave kids a new meaning to how big whitetail can grow.
This year also benchmarked an assortment of entirely new sessions for participants to engage in. The camp offers a program for people to learn how to photograph their trophy deer or turkey. We give great instructions on how to clean up the expired animal, how to position it for eye-pleasing pictures, and also what to look for in an aesthetic frame of mind.
The importance and understanding of deer calling is another critical topic we unveiled this year. We teach campers the basic fundamentals of calling techniques, vocabulary, and when to use each type of call. Campers are able to grunt, snort, and wheeze their way through the 20-minute demo and learn how to coax a monster buck into range. Deer calling wasn’t the only new tips and techniques section that was added.
We were lucky enough to have a professional game trapper and antique collector brief kids on the sport of trapping. Bob White of Adams, Wisconsin, brought a truckload of different traps that ranged in sizes, shapes, and styles. Many of his traps date back to the late 1800’s. He collects all kinds of fascinating gear and products that the kids absolutely loved.
The day ends with a blast, boom, and bang as we break out the shotguns and bust clay pigeons. Many participants have never had the opportunity of firing bb’s into the fragile orange colored disk gliding through the air. During the first few attempts, the clay pigeons left the thrower untouched. By the time we wrapped the session up, there were clay pigeon fragments scattered everywhere. It only took a little practice before the kids found there mark and became confident behind the shotgun.
As the day came to a close after hours of learning how to scout for deer, minimize human odor, score antler, build food plots, and position stands, the parents arrived to join our pizza party, award ceremony, and shopped at the Wik’s World Gear store. The exclusive camp store offers breathtaking woodcarvings that were custom crafted by the hands of Kurt Mallo, who owns Burnt Elk Log Décor. I also added a Wik’s World line of clothing apparel alongside my good friend, Dan Schafer’s famous Rut Junkie line.
Opening weekend of camp was an absolute blast for instructors, participants, and myself. I will be hosting the event for the next three weekends and anticipate more instructive learning, shared memories, and times well spent in the outdoors with good people.
Whitetail deer have a wide assortment of both verbal and nonverbal means of communication. They’re language and lingo has been carefully studied by animal biologists since the early years of the late 1800’s. Deer have a very unique style of engaging in conversation. Many of us have already heard of the basic converse from deer to deer. A whitetail’s vocabulary ranges from bleats, grunt, bellows, and bawls. The list below details the most popular whitetail dialect. You will generate a fresh idea of deer verbalization and a typical time frame of season they communicate.
Contact Call – Also referred to as the ‘lost call.’ The contact call can be matched to the idea of the kee-kee-run call made by wild turkey. Both whitetail and turkey share the same concepts of locating fellow members of their family or group. A doe will make a loud and deep bleat two to three times every 15 minutes. You may use this calling technique as a way to mimic a confused doe. It is perfect to use while walking into your setup to cover your noise while still-hunting. Deer usually speak this language during the pre-rut, which runs throughout the entire month of October.
Doe Grunts – Differ from buck grunts in several ways. Doe grunts are a deer’s way of saying “Hey…come here.” The doe grunt is used to persuade fellow deer in the area to come. You must keep this calling technique soft to mimic the call perfectly. The louder you make the grunt, the more aggressive it sounds. Doe have been known to use this lingo throughout the month of October as well.
Breeding Bellow – One of my favorite calls. This hyper doe gurgle will be heard during the heat of the rut. Many people think that the bellow and the “estrous bleat” are the same. The converse differentiates greatly; in fact, the ‘estrous bleat’ means, “I will be ready to breed soon.” The bellow means, “I’m ready to breed right now!” I’ve used this calling technique with the combination of rattling to coax in many mature bucks. You will not hear doe make this call during the early season. The primary time of this communication will be heard during the breeding season in November.
Tending Grunt – Another breeding-style call made by high-strung bucks. The grunt is a rapid succession of mini-grunts in a staccato pattern. You may have heard this call while sitting in your tree stand and suddenly catch a glimpse of a buck trailing a doe. A buck will typically produce 10-20 soft tending grunts during any moment of chase. I’ve watched many professional hunters on video mimic this call with a follow-up of an estrous bleat leading into a rattling session.
One key of success to the art of calling is to create a surreal situation. Adding realism in your calling will give you the upper hand when calling to deer that have been called to before. Be creative and try new strategies. I’ve heard of people scratching the bark off the tree you’re sitting in with antlers when rattling. My cousin has dropped rocks from his stand to mock the sounds of hoof traffic before banging together antlers of tossing out grunts.
Game calling has always been popular in duck and turkey hunting. Bring your grunt tube into the woods during every hunt. You never know when you may want to break it out and bring the big buck into range!
As June’s green foliage sprouts like the end of my shaggy bangs, I am reluctant to say that it’s time for some serious trimming. I typically head into the woods during this time for my ritual of summer pruning, clearing, and cutting. Trimming shooting lanes, scraping debris off of trails and marking them is important to do within the coming weeks.
The acreage I hunt only encounters my handsaw about once a year. Even though one cutting seems as little as shaving a few centimeters off a thick head of hair, the results will magnify. I’ve always been told that a little goes a long, long way. The more I experience this common phrase, whether it’s used for dispersing deer scent, providing bait, or hunting a particular stand; it couldn’t be anymore accurate. I’ve been taught to only snip, cut, and bust as few branches, shrubs, or undergrowth as needed.
I’ve witnessed several hunting buddies yank up their sleeves, take out their chainsaw and do work on the grounds near their tree stand. By the time they finish sinking their chainsaw into trees and piling brush, there’s not much cover left! I’ve seen them literally clear an entire 20×20-yard spot in the forest. The once thick and tangled vegetation that the deer loved transformed into a mini-sized field in the middle of the forest. This is bad for several reasons.
If you decide to turn a lush, green hunting spot completely bald and stricken of cover, you are doing more harm than help. Mature deer depend on weaving through thick cover and tangled brush in the cloak of sunset. It’s what makes them feel safe, secure, and invincible. By removing their cover, we’re actually convincing them to skirt the clear cutting and change travel patterns.
We all understand the process of regeneration. That is why it’s so important to make select and strategic cuts on timber. It opens the canopy and sheds beams of light to the ground, which in turn lift seeds from the soil into the air. If we slice into trees and bush hog the woodland’s floor intensely during the summer, new plant life nearly always takes longer to grow. Summer is known for its serious droughts and there’s no telling the amount of rainfall we may or may not receive. It may take years for the new vegetation to lift and the plant life to turn thick.
Instead of going cut-crazy and altering your honey holes’ effectiveness, make a few select openings that will improve your shooting capabilities. Chomp into the branches with a nice pair of shears or let the bite of a handsaw eat and do the work. As you begin piling brush comprised of tree limbs, shrubs, and bushes, use them to your advantage. I like to construct brush fences along certain deer trails and manipulate game movement to my benefit. Trails that intertwine downwind of my stand location are always choked by heaping piles of limbs or tipped trees. I’ve learned this technique from attending several seminars conducted by leading hunting professionals and land managers.
Last year I was able to sink an arrow into the vitals of a nice deer by persuading it to move according to my direction. Hunting is all about trying new strategies that will improve your odds of success. The fact of the matter is that there’s no secret, magical black box that will rein in monster whitetails every time we use it. The field-testing, first hand experiences, and trial-and-error are what ultimately make us better hunters. Tag two techniques with one job this summer by making select cuts and using the excess debris to your advantage.
The anticipation and excitement of chasing a Wisconsin long-beard began to transform into pure dosages of frustration. As each day of my season ensued, the more aggravated I became. Last week I found out very quickly that hunting a central Wisconsin gobbler with a jumble of filming equipment was rather tiresome.
I was only able to hunt three of the five days for turkey because of my school schedule. Cramming in a quick three-day hunt was the best I could do.
Friday morning my nerves were pulsing with overwhelming enthusiasm. The first setup was over an alfalfa field. Many birds were using the area throughout the day. With my decoy placed a few yards in front of me, all I could do was wait for the show. I hunkered into the shrubbery and vanished with the help of my camouflage. As the refreshing sign of morning dawned upon me, the subtle glow of light pierced the horizon.
An eruption of gobbles crackled from the field’s edge high above the forest floor. Several male turkeys began claiming ground and shrieking boisterous messages across the land. It took only minutes until they pitched from their roosts and into the field. An alfalfa field is a perfect place for them to showoff, sift for bugs, and spot other turkeys.
A gobbler from across the field cranked his neck to listen to my calling. He looked as if he were interested. His colorful red and blue speckled head sank into his feathers. The bird started strutting my way. One-Hundred-fifty yards separated me any my quarry. I nestled the stock of my shotgun into my shoulder and pre-visualized the attack. Before I could even visualize pulling the trigger, the gobbler came to an abrupt halt. The bird threw his head up in the air, looked at the decoys, and darted across the open field. I sat in utter amazement, as I watched his beard swing back-and-forth. It was obvious he was decoy shy.
I hunted the rest of the day and it turned into a lot of walking, calling, and doubt. The birds had quit gobbling by 8am and the extreme hot weather didn’t help. My turkey forecast was not looking very good. All I could hope for is a new day.
Saturday, my alarm clock didn’t wake me up at 4am. Pouring rain and hurricane winds sent me back into sleep mode. I waited the entire day to step foot into the woods, but the weather never calmed.
Sunday morning was my last chance to strike a wad-full of ammo into a Wisconsin long-beard. I was more than willing to sit over the alfalfa field once again hoping to cross-paths with the decoy shy bird. The only difference was that this time I was not going to have a decoy. There wasn’t any reason or doubt that a bird would stroll into range this time. The morning routine of gobbling followed as I readied myself for a lovesick tom.
A barrage of brown specks began filtering through the corner of the field. My binoculars proved honest when I caught the glimpse of a dangling beard. The only problem was that he was escorting a handful of needy hens. I cranked up my calling hoping to entice the female’s curiosity. Instead, they took the gobbler back into the woods. My mind raced, temper escalated, and body numbed as I sat in a stupor. My gun was pointed directly in the air with my body half up ready to move, until I saw a flash of brown.
A silent gobbler had snuck behind our setup and was only a mere twenty yards away! In one fluid motion, I picked up my gun, swung the barrel and fired a kill shot. I was absolutely stunned.
The more I turkey hunt, the more I realize the unpredictability of them. This season was not like past seasons I’ve experienced. Birds didn’t want to cooperate and the weather didn’t help. Sometimes the sheer fact of being out in the woods with a shotgun in hand has enough potential to fill your tag in someway, shape or form. As the old saying goes, “You can’t kill one on the couch”.
We are constantly bombarded with hunting tips, strategies, and techniques that are supposed to increase our odds in the woods. I’ve always been the person to closely listen and take note when professional hunters’ lips let loose about their secrets to success. I’ve included the top three hunting tips that I have found to be the most helpful in my outdoor adventures. Hopefully you will also.
Cover Your Back!
Hunters are always worried about the wall of natural cover that separates the space between them and the animal. They take so much time masking the front of their position with tree limbs, bushes, and other quick-picks around them that they forget about what’s behind them. Even though front cover creates a barrier that hides movement, the secret to camouflage is blending into your surroundings 360-degrees.
You must let your camo work for you, by sinking into your surroundings. Background cover is just as important as front cover. Sitting against a lonely slender tree with a small nest of forage around you is like trying to hide an elephant in an open prairie. Many pros suggest that sitting against larger trees will reduce your chances of being silhouetted. If there are no large trees to plop near, thick vegetation will work just as well. The essence of wearing camouflage is rather simple; it is meant to blend your body in, not hide you.
The Walk of Shame.
We’ve all been guilty of spooking game on our way to our tree stand or blind. It has happened to me more than I would like to admit, probably because I am a last minute type of guy. The only thing I like about windy days is that it covers the sounds of your footsteps. I would prefer hunting calm winds any day of the week. A few years ago, I sat front row in awe, listening to one of my favorite seminar speakers spill the beans of success. He exclaimed that he’d always snag a garden rake to bring into the woods with him before season.
The savvy hunter unveiled his tip of raking a footpath from the point of entrance to his tree stand or blind. He was able to slink quietly into his tree stand and hunt the fringe of hot spot bedding areas during any type of wind breeze. During last year’s archery season, I was able to use this tip to my advantage. It was a typical last minute rendezvous to my tree stand when all of a sudden I spotted a deer standing below my stand. I was able to slip into range and kill the fat doe off the ground! It would’ve never happened if I hadn’t cleared the debris of twigs, leaves, and limbs from my trail.
Closing Time.
Back when I was beginning to take my bow and arrows out for the first time, I’d have the bad habits of cutting out early. Imagine, a 12-year old boy impatiently staring at an empty deer trail for three hours. I used to sit hours upon end and get so frustrated that I’d stand up, lower my bow, and climb down my stand. As my boot clobbered the first ladder ring, I’d here a complementary snort from a deer bounding to the next county. It wasn’t until my second year of bow hunting that I finally realized hunting to the edge of legal shooting hours was critical.
So many of us have experienced a slow afternoon of deer movement and decided to ditch early. Not only does that spook game that could possibly be on there way, but it also slowly erodes that hunting location by red-flagging hunter presence. Sitting until the last minute of shooting hours spares you a headache and may even reward you a kill!
I’ve had an array of lucky outcomes using different strategies and techniques pursuing big game, but it all boils down to trial-and-error. It’s fun trying new things that may help improve your success in the woods and field. There’s nothing quite like first-hand experience to demonstrate the conclusion, so you must try everything at least once.
The month of June brings a shimmering shine of summer heat and a foreboding drum roll to the whitetail buck antler development. During this time, velvety antlers are jammed with a congestion of intersecting veins and capillaries that supply vital nutrients to the bursting bone. June is a critical month in the growth and development of whitetail deer.
Whitetail deer antlers are the fastest growing bone structure in the animal kingdom by far. Throughout the growing cycle, which primarily runs from March to August, deer beef-up on foods packed with rich minerals and vitamins. Minerals like calcium and phosphorous make up most of the bone atop a buck’s head. Vitamin A and D also play an essential role in the production of serious antler growing mechanics. Supplying deer with alternative mineral sources help their health tremendously.
Moultrie’s new Game Nutrition System offers a variety of minerals. The system’s Trophy Maker ground minerals come in a Spring/Summer Blend and Fall/Winter Blend, each specifically formulated to provide deer what they need for that time of year. Trophy Maker liquid minerals come in both molasses and berry flavor, and Trophy Maker mineral blocks are available in an assortment of flavors. Moultrie’s minerals are created with chelated minerals to stay in a deer’s system longer allowing maximum absorption into their system.
Whitetails are truly robotic machines. A deer’s stomach not only hints to what resources of foods it needs, but also controls the animal’s livelihood. Deer are fascinating creatures for many reasons. For instance, they are able to store calcium and phosphorous deposits in their skeletal system throughout the entire year. When the spring and summer months arrive, the stored deposits transfer into their headgear. Their skeletal system will deplete and evolve into a totally different physical state. A deer’s bones will become weak and brittle. That is why supplementing minerals increases the total health and wellness of the herd.
You can sprinkle mineral on the ground, atop a stump, or in a feeder. What I usually do is take a garden rake and claw into the forest floor. By removing leaves, grasses, and other barriers from the dirt, you will be able to pile the mineral onto the bare ground surface. I’ve been taught to create a 5×5 foot area composed of dirt and mineral. It is important to make the mineral site near a deer trail. The convenience is super nice and deer will take notice of your new snack offering extremely fast.
Combining the mineral into the dirt will allow a lip-smacking good mixture that will leach into the ground. Sodium is a necessary attractant used in mineral. Deer seek out the salty snack and also chow down the nutritious mineral and vitamin infested dirt. If you’ve ever seen the hole of devastation that a salt block leaves in the forest floor, you will be in for a hole just as large. Deer will chew into bark, sink their teeth into dirt, and chomp through roots for their salt fix. I always think about giving deer mineral the same as giving a dog a prescription pill. Dogs don’t beg for the pills, but will do every trick in the book for a hotdog. Injecting the pill into the hotdog supplies the dog with food and the necessary nutrition it needs. Deer share the same food mindset as dogs or even cats for that matter. Feeding deer with mineral and vitamin snacks seldom work, but juicing the side-course with an extra pinch of flavor makes it much more appealing to their taste buds. That is why salt is such an important ingredient.
Be sure to feed your deer herd mineral throughout the summer months. Your herd will become bigger, healthier, and stronger. It will make your early season archery hunt even more rewarding. You will thank yourself later when you see a heavy set of antler walking your way. It’s the proper steps we take now that provides lasting healthy impacts on deer tomorrow.
Kansas has once again proved to be one of the best turkey hunting locations in America. Last week I was able to call a giant strutter into range during the beginning of our trip and ended up wrapping my Kansas license around his leg. This enabled me to purchase another tag and put more meat in the freezer.
David Schotte, the owner of Blue River Whitetails and I planned an all out turkey blitz. We had spotted an absolute monster of a tom. The bird looked like a 30-pound bowling ball and sported a beard that could’ve easily made two paintbrushes! It was the biggest bird I’ve ever seen in my life and one of the largest Schotte had ever laid eyes on.
The only problem hunting the goliath-sized bird was that he roosted with a flock of other birds. He’d always escort a handful of hens during fly-up and fly-down. He also bossed around four other mature gobblers. It was as if he was crowned king of the flock. We had to take in account that the gobbler pulled some serious baggage around. More turkeys means more eyes, greater odds of being picked-off, and a slim chance of calling the bird in. Our plan was quite simple. We’d pop a blind along the woods facing the field within shooting distance of where they all hit the ground from fly-down. It would require a lot of luck defeating the flock of fifteen. They had to fly down near the blind so I’d be able to toss up my shotgun through the window and fire. We also had to be super stealthy so the birds wouldn’t hear us in the morning opening up the blind or walking into the setup.
The morning of my hunt to kill the largest turkey in Kansas couldn’t have come any sooner. I swear I woke up with fire in my eyes and an overwhelming sense of anticipation. We arrived at Schotte’s extra early. It was critical that we arrived extra early so the sky was completely black and the birds were sound asleep. Schotte, my field producer, and I tiptoed through the corn stubble field as quiet as we could. Subtle step-by-step crunches marked our arrival en route to the landing pad of all the birds. All three of us silently opened the blind and walked it toward the woods-edge. The field producer and I huddled into the blind while Schotte sunk into the thick vegetation behind us.
The sky slowly transitioned from coal black to light blue. The stars soon vanished, horizon ignited with red, and the birds woke. The morning silence shattered with gobbles storming from limbs. Every bird was roosted within eighty-yards of the blind. I whispered to the video camera as the morning show unraveled. During my brief recap a hen pitched into the field no more than twenty-yards from the blind. I grabbed my shotgun and lifted it to the open window. Another hen landed and it was only time until the giant tumbled his way down to the ground. Both hens started acting nervous. They tossed up their head and began an alarm putt. My jaw nearly hit the ground and all of my hope shredded as a coyote walked toward the birds. It was game over within a moment. Every bird flew the opposite way into another field. As the sounds of the last gobbler flew from atop the tree, Schotte hustled me to the backfield. The stalk was on.
We jumped a creek and followed a deer trail up a bank, which led to where he thought the birds might cross. I positioned myself behind a thick briar bush in the shade. My eyes focused down the end of my barrel. The sound of a gobble reassured that me not only we were setup in the perfect place, but the timing couldn’t have been any better. A glowing fantail arose from the steep bank. The sun glimmered on the beautiful bird as he walked our way down the trail. I took a glimpse at his beard and realized it wasn’t the mega-beard, but that was fine with me. A few yelps from Schotte’s slate call deflated the bird out of strut. He picked his head up and I blasted a shot. The bird hit the ground and so did I! The amazing turn of events shook me up. I went from a serious low to an all time high within minutes.
We were able to use the terrain to our advantage thanks to Schotte’s keen understanding of the landscape. The hunt was truly unforgettable. The monster tom gets to live another year and only grow bigger! I look forward to coming back next year and setting my sights on the colossal bird that got away.
There aren’t many hunting locations around the country that consistently produce giant whitetail and tubby gobblers year after year. Spots like that are few and far between. I’ve had the great opportunity to hunt at a place that has not only proved successful for me the last four years, but currently maintains a 100% turkey slaying record. The birds are plentiful, landscape’s spectacular, and the privlidge to hunt side-by-side with a turkey guru is incredible. Let me introduce you my good friend David Schotte, owner of Blue River Whitetails in Hanover, Kansas.
Last week my cousin and I road-tripped nearly 10-hours en route to north central Kansas. Our mission was to lay down some serious turkey footage and bust a couple of mature gobblers. Traveling that distance for turkey is my testament of how exceptional the hunting really is. Sweeping emerald green hills, vast meadows, and winding creeks that dissect pastures and hardwood forests sculpt North-Central Kansas. It’s a monster buck paradise and turkey haven.
Hunters who are pursuing the grand slam for turkey can tag-out on three-fourths of the feat within a single trip. Kansas is home to both Rio and Eastern bird species. A simple jog north lands you in spectacular Merriam country. During this trip I focused my efforts into hopefully tagging both species. A telltale sign to identify a Rio is looking at his fantail. Male Rio’s sport a golden-tan colored band across their fantail, while an Eastern flashes a strip of brown. Both birds share similar characteristics and make worthy opponents in the field as I soon found out during my first morning’s hunt.
My cousin, who ran the camera for me hid behind a tree, while David and I nestled into some nearby shrubbery. We were all concealed very well. By mid-May the foliage is thick, grass is high, and bushes are full of leaves. This time of the year is ideal for sinking into the natural environment unnoticed. The darkness of morning soon illuminated like emerging headlights on a backcountry road. The glint of sunlight sparked the army of gobblers roosted nearby. The crew of rednecks cracked silence in the crisp morning air and made their presence known across the vast countryside.
Clattering wings, popping limbs, and a symphony of staccato cackles and yelps proved that gobblers weren’t the only gender roosted. Three hens graciously pitched down into the field. The hens were soon to be escorted by a handful of toms. A handful of gobblers tumbled into the tilled-field and instantly inflated into full strut. The males followed the hens in a line like a 4th of July parade. Each tom made an attempt to show-off and declared dominance. It was as if the hens could care less. The only positive scenario Dave and I had to work with was that the males easily outnumbered the females and if we’d be able to call in the hens, the strutters would follow.
Dave and I began chirping sweet tones across the field hoping to attract attention from the hens. The tom’s gobbled, but wouldn’t budge. The hens tossed their head into the air and slowly made their way our way. Their curiosity and interest helped us exponentially. I readied my shotgun and slunk lower toward the ground. Dave chattered a few more times with the box call and we completely silenced ourselves.
The large flock of feathers waddled into range. I punched the safety-off and waited for the okay to shoot. My cousin adjusted his video camera, while I zeroed-in on the flashy beat red head to deliver a lethal kill. I got the whispering go-ahead and squeezed a 3-½ inch shot shell full of bb’s into the vitals.
My fourth year of late-season turkey hunting with my dear friend David Schotte proved successful once again. The long trip to Kansas is always highly anticipated by my cousin and I. We are lucky to save the best hunt for the last turkey-hunting trip of the year. I will be here a few more days and hopefully have another positive report next week!
The quest to find a good cameraman is like trying to find a matching set of shed antlers in the middle of a marsh. It requires an immense amount of one-on-one training, hands-on personal experience, and a thorough understanding of what needs to be filmed during the duration of a televised hunt.
When filming for a national television show, there’s more involved than the point-and-shoot method. Often times, there are strict scripts to shoot from, certain audio-bytes to capture, special formats to film in, and about a hundred other key aspects that are a must for quality footage. This past week, I stumbled upon that matching set of shed antlers and found somebody who has the potential to roam with the elite field producers of the outdoor industry.
The cameraman who always works with me had an out-of-state video shoot. I was forced to frantically search for someone to fill my cameraman’s shoes. I knew of several people who were willing to toss a camera on their shoulder and hit record, but that’s not what I wanted. I opted to ask a special friend of mine who watches outdoor TV programming as much as I do. He’s a stickler and professional critic when it comes to pointing out scenes within a show that don’t match, look fishy, and are completely staged. Dick Gunther, owner of Dick’s Whitetail Taxidermy in Camp Douglas, Wisconsin was the man for the job. I’ve been acquainted with Gunther for a few years now and have been fortunate enough to know him and his family quite well. He’s one of the keenest individuals I have ever known. His fine taxidermy work defines his personality and character. Like many great artists, Gunther carries with him a creative mind, meticulous skills for crafting, and he is always looking to improve. These are the key attributes found in a quality field producer.
Before our hunt, I jammed him with an extremely brief review of the basic filming guidelines. Gunther learned the fundamentals of shooting video, the mechanics of a camera, and the general concept of outdoor videoing. As the opening day of turkey season arrived, it was up to Gunther to prove himself behind the camera.
As the break of dawn’s sunlight torched the green pastures, we sat in wonder hoping our luck would prove worthy. Our setup was ideal for a teamwork effort to cast a lovesick gobbler into a movie star role. Gunther sat behind me hunkered into a grassy spot against a large oak to break up his outline. I sat close ahead, feet propped on my footrest, shotgun in hand, and anticipations high. It is always important to sit near your cameraman for two reasons. A cameraman will lose angles and the hunter’s point-of-view as the distance increases. It is essential that the camera is always recording over the shoulder of a hunter to give viewers that lifelike sense. As you move further away from each other, communication decreases. The most important aspect of filming hunts is communicating the scenario, situation at hand, and the actual kill shot. Everyone must be on the same page or else it becomes a producer’s worst nightmare.
The morning silence was broke when I busted a few crackling yelps toward the roosted birds. It was only seconds before we heard a response from an interested gobbler. Gunther flipped on the camera and started filming the scenario as the game of seduction unraveled. As he filmed, I pulled down my mask and whispered a basic checklist of mechanics for him to check; audio, adjusting the iris, turning on manual focus, fine-tuning the white balance and checking the gain were just some of the requirements.
The gobbler was in sight before I could finish with my verbal checklist. He pompously showboated across the entire pasture en route to my decoy. Beautiful colors splashed off his feathery body and the sun’s luminescence lit his tail fan with a glow. The strutter stood at a mere 20 yards. As any good cameraman would say at this point in time, Gunther told me he was focused on the bird and to make the kill. An explosion of bb’s roared from the end of my shotgun and splattered into the bird’s vitals, it was a knockout! Gunther was just as excited as I was. We savored the moment with high-fives and “man-hugs.”
We shot the cut-a-ways, recovered the bird, and wrapped up a successful video shoot. I left the field proud and eager to see the dynamic footage from a rookie’s first hunting experience behind a camera. Our teamwork effort proved triumphant as I later viewed the footage. I owe a big thanks to Gunther for his ability to capture a spectacular turkey hunt, but more importantly a greater memory for us to share for years to come.
The anticipation and excitement of chasing a Wisconsin long-beard began to transform into pure dosages of frustration. As each day of my season ensued, the more aggravated I became. Last week I found out very quickly that hunting a central Wisconsin gobbler with a jumble of filming equipment was rather tiresome.
I was only able to hunt three of the five days for turkey because of my school schedule. Cramming in a quick three-day hunt was the best I could do.
Friday morning my nerves were pulsing with overwhelming enthusiasm. The first setup was over an alfalfa field. Many birds were using the area throughout the day. With my decoy placed a few yards in front of me, all I could do was wait for the show. I hunkered into the shrubbery and vanished with the help of my camouflage. As the refreshing sign of morning dawned upon me, the subtle glow of light pierced the horizon.
An eruption of gobbles crackled from the field’s edge high above the forest floor. Several male turkeys began claiming ground and shrieking boisterous messages across the land. It took only minutes until they pitched from their roosts and into the field. An alfalfa field is a perfect place for them to showoff, sift for bugs, and spot other turkeys.
A gobbler from across the field cranked his neck to listen to my calling. He looked as if he were interested. His colorful red and blue speckled head sank into his feathers. The bird started strutting my way. One-Hundred-fifty yards separated me any my quarry. I nestled the stock of my shotgun into my shoulder and pre-visualized the attack. Before I could even visualize pulling the trigger, the gobbler came to an abrupt halt. The bird threw his head up in the air, looked at the decoys, and darted across the open field. I sat in utter amazement, as I watched his beard swing back-and-forth. It was obvious he was decoy shy.
I hunted the rest of the day and it turned into a lot of walking, calling, and doubt. The birds had quit gobbling by 8am and the extreme hot weather didn’t help. My turkey forecast was not looking very good. All I could hope for is a new day.
Saturday, my alarm clock didn’t wake me up at 4am. Pouring rain and hurricane winds sent me back into sleep mode. I waited the entire day to step foot into the woods, but the weather never calmed.
Sunday morning was my last chance to strike a wad-full of ammo into a Wisconsin long-beard. I was more than willing to sit over the alfalfa field once again hoping to cross-paths with the decoy shy bird. The only difference was that this time I was not going to have a decoy. There wasn’t any reason or doubt that a bird would stroll into range this time. The morning routine of gobbling followed as I readied myself for a lovesick tom.
A barrage of brown specks began filtering through the corner of the field. My binoculars proved honest when I caught the glimpse of a dangling beard. The only problem was that he was escorting a handful of needy hens. I cranked up my calling hoping to entice the female’s curiosity. Instead, they took the gobbler back into the woods. My mind raced, temper escalated, and body numbed as I sat in a stupor. My gun was pointed directly in the air with my body half up ready to move, until I saw a flash of brown.
A silent gobbler had snuck behind our setup and was only a mere twenty yards away! In one fluid motion, I picked up my gun, swung the barrel and fired a kill shot. I was absolutely stunned.
The more I turkey hunt, the more I realize the unpredictability of them. This season was not like past seasons I’ve experienced. Birds didn’t want to cooperate and the weather didn’t help. Sometimes the sheer fact of being out in the woods with a shotgun in hand has enough potential to fill your tag in someway, shape or form. As the old saying goes, “You can’t kill one on the couch”.
Morning sunshine colored the prickly tips of the tall white pines as the morning awakes the forest. I sit, clothed in complete camouflage. My entire body matches the ground floor, scraggly bushes and textured bark of the hardwood oak. I become hidden in the wonders of nature, anticipating a surprise attack upon a mature gobbler.
Motionless, eyes scan, ears listen, and my mind is at ease. I now await the unforgettable bark from the vocals of a savvy bird. The gobble is a sound that serenades my mind, steals my patience, and stirs my soul. The tom’s gobble electrifies the monotonous early morning sounds of the woods. As soon as I hear the wake from his morning roost, I creep into stalk mode awaiting his next move.
My latest adventure takes place in the rolling green meadows and hills of Wisconsin. A bluff region comprised of ancient glacier rubble collected from the northern stretches of Canada. It is a land preserved with sheer beauty and grace. The success of setting your sight upon a wise old tom depends on understanding the tricky terrain. Birds are far too familiar with the jogs of timber, stretches of meadow, and sweeping valleys. I couldn’t help but wait to share a morning with a forest full of fluffy feathers.
Speckles of shattered sunlight trickled upon the breathtaking scene that lay before me. Ancient farmhouses stood lonely, sunk into the endless hills. It was only a matter of time until the turkeys would wake. I dug into my turkey-vest full of thingamajigs and slipped-out a mouth call. The mouth call is the most realistic sounding turkey call on the market. The construction of the sweet-talking manipulating device is built with latex, aluminum, and tape. I slipped the call into my mouth and began to spread chattering yelps across the fertile land.
A gobble broke the silence. I rapidly tested his willpower with bittersweet talk and seducing his lovesick mind. My goal was to suck him away from his flock of hens he flaunted throughout the day and into gun range. With enough convincing and proper turkey etiquette, my hope would come true.
I eased back into the tree allowing my feet to prop comfortably against my footrest. I was both steady and at ease. The sound of busting limbs, noisy wing-beats, and swooshing feathers directed me that my opponent has landed. I called softly with a soothing mix of clucks to acknowledge his acrobatic swoop. He replied. The mature gobbler was definitely convinced he was in lust.
My 12-guage pointed toward the forest’s horizon where my quarry pompously stood strutting his magnificence. As he waddled towards me with his head cocked, feathers spread, and tail sailing high, I readied myself. My heart beat like the wings of a hummingbird. It was an enthusiasm high. My muzzle bounced from uneasy nerves like a dangling leaf in the wind.
My safety pin clicked, eyes squinted, and finger reached for the trigger. My cameraman documented each passing moment with his video camera. He and his equipment were concealed in a hunting blind.
As soon as the turkey stretched his neck looking for his blind date, my instincts jumped the gun, literally. I blasted an intense face-wash full of bb’s into the vitals of the gobbler.
Hunting turkey showcases a wealth of new meanings to be a bird hunter. It’s the significant feelings of coaxing a bird into range and persuading Mother Nature to reverse psychology. Turkey hunting teaches lessons that aren’t found in a book or magazine, but rather in the depths of one’s imagination set forth from all the dreaming beforehand. I urge everyone to test their hunting skills in pursuit of the wild turkey.
