I just got back from an impromptu deer scouting trip, and right away I’m inspired to share my personal “hunting checklist.” My wife and I were in a hurry to get out-of-town, so naturally we forgot several things. I won’t make this mistake during my actual hunt, believe me!
Since bowhunting deer is the most important thing I do each year, I’m very thorough in preparation. I’ve been compiling this list for more than twenty years and adding new new items each year.
Note: Some items don’t apply for short trips, or every trip, but it is very important to have a checklist handy so you don’t forget anything.
The following is my 2016 Idaho bear hunt story. I hope you enjoy it!
The skies were dark as a steady cold rain soaked the steep mountainside. A big chocolate phase bear was barely visible feeding in the dense brush forty yards away. After ranging him several times and unable to see his vitals, I knew I’d have to get closer. Any apprehension I had about getting close to dangerous predators was suddenly gone.
I eased into thirty yards and nocked an arrow. The bear sat on his rump facing away from me. My eyes were locked onto him as I crept ever closer. I ranged him again at twenty yards. Close enough, I thought, wait for him to turn. The storm-driven wind began to swirl. Something needed to happen.
I don’t remember exactly when it started, but several years ago I felt compelled to challenge my bowhunting abilities by pursuing dangerous game with a bow. I suppose this is the natural progression of any serious bowhunter, but in the back of my mind I wasn’t completely confident I had what it takes. I would often play out the stalk in my mind, but when it came to getting close I always felt a tinge of panic. I knew that a bad hit could turn deadly, and so getting well within bow range and shooting straight would be the ultimate test of grit.
In 2016 I miraculously drew an any weapon Idaho controlled bear tag with less than 1 in 40 odds. Like many hunters today, I read and reread the word “Successful” on the postcard, thinking there must be a mistake. It was hard to believe that a quality bear hunt was suddenly on the horizon.
Back in 2012 I bought an OTC tag and took a kamikaze trip to Idaho looking for bruins. It was a complete failure. At no time did I feel remotely close to one of these elusive animals. I had much to learn. Now, with my hunt just a month away, I knew almost nothing about hunting bears.
The unit I drew is actually two large units, neither of which I’d ever seen before. The hunt spans the entirety of April and most of May, so there would be plenty of time to learn the area. In March I contacted the biologist for the region. All I really wanted was a starting point. Unfortunately, the information she gave me was pretty vague. When I asked about bear concentrations, she said they were scattered evenly throughout the area. However, the northernmost unit had historically better harvest statistics, so that’s where I would begin my search. She also mentioned that it was a heavy snow year, so the best strategy was to avoid the first week of April to allow time for the bears to emerge from their dens. By the last week of April, all the bears should be out and feeding heavily on green shoots just below snow line.
Rugged Idaho.
My plan was to hunt the second week of April alone. Mostly I’d be looking for road access and bear sign throughout the unit. If that trip failed, I would return the last week of April with my wife, Esther, for a week-long excursion. I must admit that I felt much more comfortable having a “gunner” next to me in case I got into trouble. Needless to say, my first trip was one of apprehension.
In the meantime I dug around for more information online and was fortunate to find a few good starting points. I also read everything I could about hunting black bears. Some of the best information came from Eastmans’ Bowhunting Journal. Years ago I began clipping and saving some highly informative articles written by Guy Eastman and the bear-slayer himself, Brian Barney. This lexicon of bear knowledge became the guidebook for my hunt.
After a long, eight hour drive across the plains of Southern Idaho, I arrived at the beautiful, moss-covered woods of Western Idaho. I set up my solitary camp alongside a muddy dirt road near a runoff-swollen stream at the bottom of steep canyon.
Around 8:00 a.m. I headed up the slippery mountainside. From the information I gathered, bears like to feed for a couple hours on open, green, south-facing slopes during warm weather, and then bed down for a few hours in the dark timber, and repeat. Not even fifteen minutes into my hike I spotted my first black bear feeding exactly where I expected: on a green, south-facing slope near old-growth timber.
This was the first bear I’d seen in more than a decade, and my heart leapt with glee. Was bear hunting really this easy, I wondered? The bear was about a thousand vertical feet above me and too far to judge, so I needed to get closer. While scrambling towards the bear I suppressed a nagging inner voice that continually questioned my motives, asking “Why are you running towards this horrible beast?!”
In short order I arrived on the same elevation as the bear and shot some video from about 120 yards. He’d finished feeding and was ambling into the dark woods where I quickly lost sight of him. Judging by the distance between his ears, I estimated him as a younger bear. But what did I know?
Slowly, I made my way to where he disappeared. I soon realized he was gone and began hiking up the ridgeline. A little farther along I heard a scuffling below me. As I pulled up my binos, the hair rose on my neck and my hand fumbled for the .357 revolver on my belt. The same bear was digging out a bed just thirty yards away and somehow didn’t notice me. He just lay down and went to sleep.
For the longest time I stood motionless, peering at the sleeping bear through my binoculars. He was indeed a young bear, and eventually I moved off to glass different parts of the mountain. A few hours later I glassed up another bear—a big blond sow with two cubs—half a mile away. I shot some more video and moved along. As exciting as it is to see sows with cubs, they are protected and illegal to hunt, for obvious reasons.
Still, my hopes ran high most of the day. Unfortunately that was my last bear sighting before getting socked in by storm clouds and running out of daylight. All in all it was a productive first day.
First day, socked in.
I woke the second day to an inch of snow. My goal was to cover as much new ground as possible. Apparently the bad weather had the bears down because I didn’t glass up a single bear, nor did I find any fresh tracks in the snow. I’d read somewhere that bears hate being out in the rain, and this was proving to be true. That night I stumbled back to camp wet and sore, and a little discouraged. At that point I decided to move camp to a different part of the unit.
On Wednesday I spent the day driving the muddy roads farther north. I soon discovered that most of higher elevation roads were still snowed in. I would plow my truck as far as I could, then get out and hike. Overall I wasn’t finding much sign.
That afternoon, while driving lower elevation roads, I spotted a huge blond sow with two cubs about a quarter-mile up the mountain. When she saw my truck, she bounded onto a boulder outcropping and took a defensive posture. She held her head high with her eyes transfixed on me while swaying back and forth. I half-expected her to come barreling down the mountain and tear my truck apart. I knew that sows were protective of their cubs, but this was ridiculous. What have I gotten myself into, I wondered?!
That was my second reality check moment. If I were to continue hunting bears with a bow, then in a very real way I had to make peace with the possibility of death. Success meant that one of us wasn’t coming out of the woods alive, and there was a chance it might be me! It was painfully necessary, at that very minute, to either accept this fact or go home. Did I really have what it takes?
Later that evening I went searching for a campsite. Just before the road became snowed in, I was able to glass up big, jet-black bear on a far-away hillside. It was lone bear and likely a boar. My game plan for morning was to drive as far up the road as possible and then hike after the bear. But the weather had other plans.
On Thursday I woke to a full-on blizzard and knew my hunt was over. The bears would hunker down and the roads would only get worse. Best to cut my losses, take the knowledge I’d gained, and come back later with a plan. I was encouraged that in three full days I had four bear sightings. Still, I didn’t get a single stalk opportunity, and for such a difficult-to-draw hunt, I expected a little more. Perhaps many of the bears were still hibernating…
The following week we had beautiful warm weather, but I was stuck at home working. Then, just as we departed on another week-long bear excursion, it turned bitter cold and wet. Originally I planned for my wife Esther—who is deathly afraid of close-up bear encounters, by the way—to be my gunner and carry a rifle for protection. But in the week between bear hunts, I decided the mountains were just too steep to carry all that extra weight. Instead, she came armed with paltry can of bear spray. ;^)
Before setting out on the open road, curiosity had me searching the IDFG website for past harvest statistics for my unit. I was surprised, and dismayed, to learn that of the 75 tags given out, only 20 hunters were successful. That’s less than 30% success! Already, I was planning a third trip in May.
On the night of Sunday, April 24th, we pulled into the area that I’d left off on my first trip in the remote, muddy mountains near the Oregon border. There were no other hunters in the area, which I found encouraging. As we set up the tent we were accompaniment by the ghostly howls of wolves in the distance. There was something peaceful about having these blustery, wild mountains to ourselves.
Wolf track.
We struggled to keep warm that night. In the morning we began hiking where the road ends and right away spotted a sow with cubs on a far-off, cliffy mountainside. We continued hiking all day and glassing all day and eventually we dropped into the canyon where I’d seen the lone black bear on my first hunt. There were numerous bear tracks in the area, as well as frequently used bedding areas surrounded by fresh scat. The whole time I felt we were very close to our quarry, but still couldn’t turn up any bears.
Rear foot pad.
After a hard freeze overnight, we spent Tuesday morning driving miles and miles of roads with no luck. In the evening we returned to the canyon with all the bear sign. We sat on a saddle with deep, dug-in bear tracks going over it and a rubbing tree littered with bear hair. I nicknamed this area “Bearea.” All was quiet, but then just before dark we caught sight of a sow with cubs walking along a logging road.
Dug-in tracks.
On Wednesday we went back to Bearea with intentions of exploring it entirely. Around 10 a.m. a heavy rain pinned us down in the dark timber. The relentless rain eventually chased us back to camp where we changed out of our soaked clothes. We were yet to see a lone bear on this trip and were getting a little discouraged. The rain let up that evening, and again we dropped into Bearea but to no avail. At that point we decided to move camp farther south, to where I had my first bear encounter.
Thursday was sunny and clear. We spent the whole day hiking from 4000’ to snowline at 5000’. We were excited to come across innumerable tracks, beds and fresh scat, but still, no amount of glassing could turn up a bear. Nonetheless, I was learning quite a bit about bears, primarily what I refer to as the “triple S” of bear behavior: shy, secretive, and slippery.
Bears, like deer, don’t want to be found! Even if you spot a bear, they tend to move around a lot and eventually disappear. Sometimes we’d find a steamy, green pile of scat, but the leaver of such piles remained invisible. I began to refer to them as “invisabears.”
It became increasingly clear that at least one bear was living full time on this mountainside above camp. Frustration had me clambering from pine bed to pine bed, all over the steep slope looking for these invisible bears, but once again the day ended bear-free.
While pondering bears that evening I decided we should start hunting bears like we hunt deer. We would wake very early on Friday and spend the whole day glassing and bed hopping. All the information I’d read about bears—that they emerge from beds several times to feed during the day—was apparently not the case here.
Bear sign.
It was a cold and rainy Friday morning as we began our ascent up the mountain. When we arrived at our first vantage we spotted a lone chocolate phase bear feeding far above us in the low clouds that partially obscured the mountain. Determined to finally get my stalk on, I trotted up the near vertical slope with Esther floundering behind. Just as we were closing the distance on the bear, he disappeared into the clouds. Surely he’d bedded down in one of the dozens pine beds littered across the slope. So the rest of the day was spent hiking in circles looking for the lone bear, who for no particular reason I named Sedwich. We visited all the promising areas—and more—but again found nothing. Wet and discouraged, we returned to camp around 2 p.m.
We were officially out of dry footwear which encouraged us to go driving down one of the long, winding roads in the relentless rain. By late afternoon we hadn’t set eyes any bear and returned to camp for lunch. To my dismay the forest service had opened the locked gate on the logging road leading up the mountain where we had toiled for so long. With the impending weekend, I feared the area would soon get blown out by rifle hunters. It was hard to imagine a scenario wherein I might get a successful stalk.
In disgust we took advantage of the newly opened road and drove a short distance to glass. Not surprisingly, the bears weren’t out. As we sat pondering impending failure, Esther suddenly leaned over and asked, “Is that your bear???” My binos flashed up and sure enough a large, lone bear materialized out of nowhere and sat feeding in the rain 1000 vertical feet above the road. Instantly I grabbed my pack, slipped on my soggy boots, and just before jumping out of the truck exclaimed to Esther, “Stay here!”
Then halfway across the road I looked up and noticed a second lone bear feeding a short distance from the first one. When it rains, it pours bears! I looked back to Esther in astonishment, and then took off running up the mountain.
Halfway up the near vertical slope I paused. I couldn’t breathe and both my legs were going numb. I gasped and sweated, slipped and fell, and pushed onward. A few minutes later I arrived at the same elevation as the bears, and wouldn’t you know it, both had vanished! When I got within view of the truck, I waved and flailed my arms at Esther, hoping she could point me towards the bears. To my dismay, she held both hands up, gesturing that she too lost sight of the bears. Now what?!
Through drizzling rain I zigzagged to the top of the ridgeline, desperately trying to stay above the swirling winds that had likely busted the bears. Soaked with sweat and rain, I glassed every bit of cover but turned up nothing. Darkness was falling, as were my spirits. The only option was to work back down to the truck and try again in the morning. While following a finger ridge down the mountain, a dark blob in the brush caught my eye. My heart jumped. It was the big brown phase bear, nearly invisible as it fed in the dense brush below. No shot; must get closer.
Staying above the feeding bear, I crouched low and skirted the hillside towards it. I ranged the bear at forty yards. He was feeding in circles with just the top of his back visible. Gotta get closer! I slowly eased into thirty yards, trying my best not to roll a rock down the hill. My heart thundered in my chest. I took long, deep breaths to calm myself, knowing this would likely be my only opportunity. I nocked an arrow and waited for him to present a shot. Instead the bear sat flat on his rump facing away from me. The storm-driven wind began to swirl. Must get closer quick!
I meticulously closed the distance to 20 yards. Close enough, I thought. Wait for him to turn broadside. I drew my bow and held tight. He didn’t move; I let down. Seconds later he stood and slowly turned uphill, exposing his shoulder. My sight pin danced all over his vitals. I paused for a couple seconds and slowly exhaled. I resettled the pin and the arrow was off.
To my dismay, less than half the arrow buried into its shoulder. The bear swung around to face me and somehow, in the same two seconds I had loaded another arrow and redrawn my bow. The bear’s head swung left then right, then forward. His piercing eyes locked onto mine. When he raised his head to look at me, my second arrow sailed under his chin and disappeared into his chest.
The bear swung around and barreled straight down the mountain, smashing through the brush as he went, and then disappeared into the dark timber below. I stood shaking in disbelief, oblivious to the rain battering down on me.
My first instinct was to head back to the car and get Esther. My second instinct told me to go after the bear. The rain threatened to wash away the blood trail and darkness was falling. In no way did I want to track a wounded bear in the dark. I pulled my revolver, and with my gun in one hand and bow in the other, slowly headed in the bear’s direction. The blood trail was heavy and full of frothy lung blood. Surely the bear wouldn’t go far.
200 yards down the mountain, at the edge of the dark timber, I slowed way down, glassing as I went. Fifty yards deeper in the tangled maze of a giant deadfall tree, my eyes locked onto the dark, furry patch of my expired bear. I was overcome by relief and a sense of accomplishment unimaginable. What had arguably been the most difficult and frustrating hunt of my life, had instantly transformed into wonderful success.
After verifying the bear was indeed done, I hung my bow in a tree and jogged back to the truck. Esther burst from the vehicle and ran to meet me on the road. She raved on about how she witnessed the entire stalk, and her excitement throughout was equal to mine.
The rain died out as we approached the downed bear together.
My bear—Sedwich the bear—has become a major milestone in my life. I can’t think of a better way to challenge one’s skills and bravery than a close-quarters bear hunt with a bow. I also learned that there’s no such thing as an easy bow hunt.
As with all hunting, it’s the hunter’s responsibility to learn everything he can about his prey and its behavior. I have nothing but admiration and respect for these powerful creatures that we share our mountains with, but rarely get to see. For this reason I’ll probably never hunt bears again. Like all game animals, our beautiful black bears are a renewable resource for our taking. And indeed, blueberry-glazed bear steaks are quite delicious. But unlike elk and deer, there just aren’t a whole lot of them to take. These fascinating beasts have their own special place in the woods, and for me, preserving this hunt as an once-in-a-lifetime experience is plenty enough.
In the end my bear green scored 19.5 inches, making it my fourth spot-and-stalk Pope and Young trophy in seven years. Yet, as proud as I am of this accomplishment, I must remind myself that life’s most precious experiences cannot be measured in inches or trophy quality. How we hunt—and the people with whom we share our hunts—are what matters most. None of my bow trophies would have been possible without the love and support from my wonderful and understanding wife, Esther, who’s been by my side during all of these magical hunts.
Don’t you just love sitting amongst the pine needles and leaves, amidst the awe-inspiring beauty and peacefulness found only in nature? Don’t you just love how time slows way down while bowhunting on a warm September day? Me too.
But sometimes enough is enough!
If you spend any amount of time afield, you’re going to encounter downtime. Downtime is normally a good thing. But if you’ve been hunting the same mountain for days and not much is going on, then downtime can get downright excruciating.
On a hot August day, when the animals seem to have hunkered down at first light and nothing’s moving; you’re getting low on water and camp is miles away; you’re already sitting in the best possible ambush spot and there’s nowhere to be for the next 8 hours; well, sometimes hunting gets downright boring! Worse yet is when you get rained in or snowed into camp for hours or days on end.
Too much downtime can lead to all kinds of craziness!!!
The problem with excessive downtime (aka boredom) is pretty soon your mind gets restless, and restlessness leads to discouragement, or god-forbid, homesickness. You start worrying about home stuff, or work stuff, or what your wife or girlfriend is up to in your extended absence. You start fantasizing about hot showers and sleeping in and mowing the jungle-lawn you’ve abandoned for so long.
This “mind creep” is not good. Mind creep leads to discouragement, and discouragement always threatens your success, or in the very least, your commitment level. When you get discouraged, it’s easy to fabricate any excuse to leave the mountain early. So a good hunter must learn to manage boredom, a skill sometimes referred to as “mental toughness.”
Avoiding Boredom
In order to while away hours and hours of downtime afield, I’ve developed multiple ways to stay entertained. Here are some examples the might help you as well:
Video Games:
I hate video games; I mean, who has time for them, right?! But I love poker, so I bought a little video-poker machine that I pack with me almost everywhere I go. Fortunately it’s very lightweight and fun as heck. I remember the first year I had it, it was such a blast that I didn’t even notice the little buck that walked right up on me. Since then I’ve been a little more cautious about becoming sucked in.
Like the ancient Neanderthal, I still use a flip-phone. But I’m aware that most people now carry smart phones with them in the woods. And I’m more than certain that these fancy-phones have an infinite capacity for entertainment value which will help get you through some pretty slow times afield.
Read a book:
Long before video games, many-a-hunters carried books into the field, and some still do. Nothing can kill time (or put you to sleep) like a good book. I always keep a good book or hunting magazine back at camp. Unlike video games, books are quiet, lightweight, and easy to burn in the event of a weather crisis.
Sleep:
Sleeping in the woods is almost critical. If you’re a bowhunter, chances are you got up at the most ungodly hour. That’s awesome! Success often comes from waking long before first light. But eventually you’re gonna crash. This is good; you need to crash! This is how you recharge your hunting batteries. Getting an hour or two of solid rest in the woods can do wonders for mental toughness. It’s also where you get the energy for that grueling, three-hour stalk later in the day.
Keep a Hunt Journal:
This is no joke. The blog you’re reading right now would not be possible without a good, lightweight field journal. I recommend every hunter keeps a hunt journal. You’d be surprised just how often you refer back to it in the future for helpful tips and tidbits about your area.
I actually carry two journals! The linear, pertinent events of the day are kept in one journal, and the other is for nature-induced insights of grandeur. Throughout the monotony of everyday city-life, inspiration is being continuously leached from my soul. But in the woods, God shines forth a veritable fountain of infinite and voluminous inspiration upon my humble carcass! I soak it in and write it down; I can’t get enough. I love writing in the woods. I’d go crazy if I didn’t.
Practice Ranging Stuff:
In my experience, the biggest bucks seem to suddenly appear in front of me with no manners or warning. There’s rarely time to range anything. So a good bowhunter learns to judge distance effectively, and the best way to learn distance is to practice. Whenever my boredom alarm starts ringing, I reach for my rangefinder. Over and over I’ll pick out trees (or whatever), guess the range, and then check it with my laser rangefinder. This excessive practice does wonders for your distance-judging abilities. Besides, if you’re bored it’s probably because you’re sitting there watching a game trail or stuck in a tree stand. And since you need to know the range of several landmarks anyway, you might as well make a game of it, right?
Take Field Photos:
If you hunt long enough and hard enough, eventually you’re gonna THWACK some monstrous monarch of the woods. The whole world will be sitting on the edge of their seats waiting to read your story in some big-name magazine. The problem is that these magazines require multiple, high-quality field photos documenting your adventure. The more photos you have, the greater chance you have of getting published. Therefore, it’s a good idea to make documentary photos throughout your entire trip.
I find the best times to make photos is during downtime. The possibilities are endless, but here are some ideas: a) shoot some scenery, b) shoot some close-ups of your hunting gear juxtaposed with the landscape, c) set the camera’s timer and shoot yourself glassing, stalking, hiking, camping, shooting, etc., d) take some photos of wildlife or sunsets or bad weather; there’s almost always something to shoot.
Even if you don’t end up using the myriad of photos you take during the hunt, you’ll still have plenty of great memories to bring home and share with family and friends. In the end, these photos will become invaluable to you. Long after you’re gone, your legacy will live on, documented in living color.
Conclusion
Being a trophy hunter is serious business, but we must remember that hunting is supposed to be fun too. Hunting is a leisure activity that removes us from our hectic lives and grounds us with the natural universe. Turning downtime into funtime is one of the best ways to keep the spirits up afield. Have fun out there!
Preface: I know this is a BOW-hunting blog, but there are plenty of entertaining GUN-hunting stories out there too. The following is the story of my brother’s 2015 rifle deer hunt. Enjoy!
Hope-Frustration-Pain-Success. Hunting on General Tags
(Story by Russell Allred)
Hiking to our base camp the day before the opener was a bigger chore than I had expected or wanted. When I was younger, hunting from the comforts of a camper and shooting bucks well-within view of camp was the norm. It was fortunate, because back then we would always drag the full carcass back to camp, rather than cutting it into quarters with the gutless method of today. Nowadays, just the hike to base camp is a long and arduous chore, much less the daunting task of the harvest and recovery of meat, if successful. Alas, this is what it takes as animals are pushed further into the recesses of the back country.
The hard-earned location paid off right away. That evening we were able to sit in camp and glass up probably 30 bucks. One buck, the biggest one, was a mile and a half away and way up high above tree line. It looked to be a good size in the spotting scope, and had unusually light colored antlers that in the setting sun looked almost bleached white. Compared to all the other bucks we were seeing, this buck was quite a distance from camp and there was no assurance that on opening morning it would still be there. Nobody wanted to get up so early in the morning to go after it, so I volunteered.
Very early, probably too early, I started hiking in the dark to the big buck’s area to see if I could get to it at first light before other hunters moved in. I had left camp so early, that I actually had to slow down and rest on the ridge top in the dark so as not to move into the buck area and spook the deer without ever seeing them. While relaxing in the dark, I could see the head lamps of other hunters well below me trying to make their way in the darkness, as well. Any headlamp in the area within two miles was easily seen in the dark. I imagined they all had the same ideas…get out early and beat out the competition. Well, I was ahead of them all. Naturally, I shined and waved my head lamp down into the valley and canyon far below, making myself known to all, “Here I am, this is MY area”. Marking my spot like a dog on a fire hydrant. Sure enough, the head lamp closest to me, maybe about three-quarters of a mile below me, suddenly stopped. The brightness of it peaked, indicating it was looking my direction. I could almost make out the cuss words as the hunter realized he had to come up with ‘Plan B’. Sure enough, he did not come up any higher.
When I finally got close to my target location it was just starting to get light enough to see and I had to crawl around a ridge of shale rocks. Crawling was necessary to keep from skylining myself. As I crawled along, I kept glassing to make sure I would see the deer before they saw me. Binos up, binos down. Crawl a couple of yards. Repeat.
Well, I guess I was just too exposed on the barren ridge, because suddenly I could see something standing just 250 yards ahead of me. Through the dim glass, sure enough, it was the very same light-colored antlers of the big buck with his two little buck buddies all staring right at me. Keep in mind, this area was way up high, and there was very little brush, so even though I thought I was being smart by crawling, they still caught me skylined. Even in the dark I stood out on the ridge line. Maybe more so with the dawning sky. I tried to prep my gun, but they immediately took off. I watched them go down to a gully about 600 yards away and stop and look back. The wind had been in my favor, by design, and maybe crawling had not completely given up my silhouette as human. So I did the only thing I could do and started crawling, again, to get myself some cover below the ridge line.
Well, after about 5 more minutes of this awkward crawl with gun in one hand and shooting sticks in the other, I heard something rattle the shale rocks above me and sure enough it was a dude on a horse. You see, this spot is so high up and so hard to get to, pretty much only dudes on horses go up there. The spooked bucks moved even further away. All I could do was stand up and quickly move toward where the bucks had been earlier, and to where I had better cover in a more brushy area. My bold move was partly out of frustration, but also strategic. I needed cover if I was going to be making anymore moves. But maybe more importantly, I needed the horseman to see me move into the basin ahead of him. I had nowhere else to go, but he could move all over the mountain on his horse. This was going to be my spot and he needed to know it.
Upon reaching cover, I sat down and started glassing. The horseman had seen me on the move and meandered away on his horse, seemingly without seeing the bucks I had been after, or the other 20 bucks 600 yards ahead and a little higher.
I watched as the big buck and his sentinels kept moving away, and eventually, I could not see them anymore. So I sat there and glassed for an hour. Glassed up about 30, or more, bucks around me within 500 yards. None as big as the one I had come all this way to chase.
The shooting down in the canyon got pretty busy for a bit. And deer kept pouring into the area I was in, I suppose to escape all the hunters below. Lots of does and smaller bucks taking cover in this little bowl where I had settled. No shooters, so I just practiced ranging them and aiming with my new scope.
After sitting for an hour and a half, I noticed a little buck up ahead of me about 450 yards. As I looked at it through the spotting scope, to my excitement and surprise, I noticed the tall white antlers of my target buck sticking up out of the sagebrush right next to the little buck. They had never left the area. Turns out the little buck was one of those two original sentinels and was still standing guard for his boss. The tall white antlers gave him away, even though I could not see any of his body behind the brush. I trained my scope on the brush directly in front of him and dialed in the yardage and waited for him to stand up. I knew it would be a long wait. But, so far, I had the bowl and the buck to myself.
After about 45 minutes I noticed two dudes way down below that were starting to head toward this buck. They had come into the bowl half an hour earlier, but were obviously discouraged to see that I had already claimed it with a much better vantage point, and they left. Probably, with the canyon below so full of hunters, they had nowhere else to go, so they returned. This time, however, though they could see I was on this buck, they must have decided that if I wasn’t taking the shot, then they were going to try for it themselves. That really upset me, so I continued to watch the buck very closely so I could take the shot as soon as it stood up, hopefully before they got into shooting range.
Jerks. I was about to get ‘duded’ by jerks. As if their aggression wasn’t enough, I had seen them glassing me with their rifle scopes. Probably with rounds chambered. I mean, why not? They were jerks and that’s what jerks do. I guess by ‘jerks’ I mean dudes. I am sure they were normally very pleasant people. Something about bone on the head of big game can somehow turn perfectly nice people into, well, jerks. Heck, here I am calling my fellow sportsmen ‘jerks’. I digress…
To complicate things, two more horsemen showed up just a couple of hundred yards directly above my buck. For me to take a shot, I would have to shoot in their direction. Even though it was probably theoretically safe with all the ridge and dirt to absorb any wayward bullets, it would be a shot that no one in their right mind would ever take. Nervously, I waited for them to see my buck and ignore my interpretation of safety and ethics and start shooting.
They never saw the buck, and slowly, too slowly, moved up and away. All the while my ‘friends’ from below were closing in on my buck. After about half an hour I was getting real nervous that these fine gentlemen were getting close enough to take a shot. So I decided to shoot at the brush it was bedded next to. Not the situation I had imagined, but I figured if I could get it to stand up, it would give me a good shot opportunity.
It took two shots before it got up, and then I had to fire 3 more shots to get it to go down. Which it did. I had been concerned those jerks (oops, there I go again…dudes) would start firing while I was, so I unloaded my gun on to make sure it was down. Now I was all out of bullets. I had never used more than one bullet before, so I had only carried five rounds that day to save on weight, and thought that even five rounds was overkill.
As I gathered my gear, I noticed that the buck was laying down with its head still up. Could be bad, but I figured it would die by the time I got over to it. So I grabbed my gear and went to it.
When I got to about 30 yards from the buck, I could see it staring above the brush right at me, laying down, but head up, still alert and very much alive. And I had no more bullets. Not sure what to do, I closed the distance, but when I got to 15 yards, it tried to run away using only its front legs (I later learned that I made a mistake on my new scope’s left-to-right turret that caused it to shoot more left, so two shots hit it back too far, and also hit spine; at 450 yards a small mistake is exaggerated).
This was a very steep mountain, so the buck pulled itself about 50 yards straight down the hill very quickly, eventually falling over on its back and getting its antlers stuck in some sage brush. Fortunately, this time it just laid there breathing heavily, but would get upset whenever I tried to move any closer. Without any more bullets, I wanted to slit its throat and bleed it out, but I did not want to keep chasing it down the hill or to get in a fight with it and possibly get myself stabbed by my knife or gored by its antlers. So I hoped to just let it lie for a few minutes and see if it would die. It was stuck in a very awkward upside down position, which I thought would aid in its quick demise.
After about 25 minutes, it seemed to just be content to lay there on its back stuck, but still alive. To make matters worse, the two dudes were down below me watching the whole debacle. And, I later learned, a friend of mine was watching it all through his spotting scope, too. I am sure I looked like the biggest clown on the mountain. The tables had turned. Surely, the two dudes below me were thinking “what a jerk”!
Finally, I mustered the courage, out of necessity, to inch my way close enough to the injured buck to finally make a quick thrust of the knife into its throat. It fought a little but, finally, just laid there and bled out and was dead in a couple of minutes.
The adventure did not end there, though. After field dressing the buck, I loaded the whole buck (that is…all the meat…quarters, back straps, and head) into my pack and it was extremely heavy. As soon as I started walking (literally at the first step), a big rain storm rolled in and rained on me for the whole 2 hours it took to haul this heavy pack back to camp in steep and rough terrain. I was cold and wore out and cramping in my back, legs, feet, and toes. Every time I stopped to rest and take the pack off, within a minute I was freezing, so I’d have to keep slowly moving to keep from hypothermia. My buddy, Danny, met me about a third mile from camp and took my pack for me the rest of the way. But it was a huge third mile. Probably would have taken me another hour at the exhaustive pace I was going. Took Danny less than 10 minutes.
I crawled into my tent and laid there for two more hours of pounding rain and pain. Eventually, as the rain let up, Danny’s father-in-law showed up with horses and hauled out the deer. I was able to make it home that evening. Tired, but glad to a successful end of another grand hunting adventure. And I would like to say a little wiser, except for the fact that two weeks later I found myself waking up in Idaho not knowing how I got there or where I was, although I did have a Salmon Idaho Hospital wrist band on. That was just the first day of a 10 day elk hunt that was much more interesting than this deer hunt…and with even more dudes.
Recently I addressed some frustrations today’s hunters have to deal with thanks to an exploding human population coupled with decreasing wildlife and habitat. What it boils down to is less hunting opportunity for everyone and ever-increasing competition afield.
For many years I’ve joked with fellow hunters about being “duded” while hunting, even during a stalk. My brother, Russell, wrote a story about his 2015 rifle hunt which perfectly illustrates my point. His exciting and insightful story will be published here on tomorrow’s blog.
By the way, each year hunters write great stories which are never published or seen in big-name magazines, and are therefore rarely heard. If you have a great hunting story that you’d like to share with the world, then email it to me and I’d be more than happy to share it here on the ZenBowhunter blog.
This is Part 2 of 2 articles addressing changes to hunting in the future. In Part 1 we explored possible evolutionary changes in the animals we hunt through the process of adaptation and evolution. In Part 2 we’ll explore possible changes in hunters to find better success in the future.
Both elk and deer are becoming both smarter and physically capable of evading new hunting technology and methods. As a result, today’s hunters must adapt along with them or be left behind.
After three decades of big game hunting, I’ve observed a split–or chasm–developing between traditional deer hunters and the new super-hunters. Basically there will be no “middle-class” of bowhunters in the future.
In the future, hunters will be divided into two camps based on their willingness to adapt to modern animals. These two camps are: a) Extreme wilderness athletes (or super-hunters) willing to spend tremendous resources for trophy-class animals, and b) Fair-weather hunters who spend little time afield, hunt mostly for fun rather than food, hunt mostly on weekends, and are happy with any size animal, or even no animal.
The following will separate the new hunter from the traditional hunter:
The future belongs to the EWAs! (EWAs are Extreme Wilderness Athletes). EWAs find time each day to work on their health via diet and physical training. It might not be critical to be “extreme,” but you’ll still need to be a wilderness athlete (or a WA). Being a WA simply means having the ability to get to the animals no matter where they are. The bigger the buck, the harder you’ll work for it. The greatest difference between successful and unsuccessful hunters is physical fitness. Out-of-shape hunters simply can’t drag their butts up to where the deer are. Today’s superbucks expect hunters to only make it so far. And where the hunter stops, the deer begins. I know it sounds pretty obvious, but the guy riding around on the four-wheeler will have far less luck than the guy burning boot leather in the steep stuff.
EWAs scout more than they hunt. Scouting isn’t optional; scouting is hunting. With fewer trophy opportunities in the future, you’ll need to locate deer and prime habitat well before the hunting season begins. Scouting not only means locating game, but devising a Plan A, B, C, and D.
EWAs don’t have to worry where the deer falls; they can always get it out. In the past, many hunters refused to hunt very far from the road because they couldn’t get the animal out. Not anymore. Wilderness athletes train hard enough to get anything out of anywhere. And if they can’t do it alone, they’ll enlist help from friends or use horses for the job. I spend about 25 day hunting deer each year. As much as I love the time afield, I’d still rather drag a deer out on day one. Whenever I catch myself making excuses for not going far enough, I remind myself of that it’s much easier (both mentally and physically) to spend a couple days dragging a superbuck out of some hell-hole than to keep hunting for weeks on end without success.
Go LIGHT! Future hunters hunt like cougars. In the cougar hath nature created the perfect deer killer. An adult cougar must kill a deer every 9-12 days to survive. No other animal kills more deer than a cougar. Whenever I want to improve my hunting skills, I look to this animal for advice. The first thing I notice is that cougars don’t carry any gear; well, aside from their powerful forearms, fangs, and razor-sharp claws. Basically, less gear means less weight, and less weight means you can go farther. Now, to survive as humans we need to carry a few basic necessities (fire, water, weapons, clothing, etc.), but there’s always room to cut weight. In places where water is abundant, I’ll carry a water filter instead of water bottles. One of the best ways to cut weight and reduce fatigue is to wear lighter footwear. Also, most bow manufacturers offer super-light carbon bow options. In almost every crevice of your daypack you’ll find a way to reduce weight.
Future hunters rely on skill more than technology. For quite some time I’ve been warning people of the phenomenon known as “equipment-bandade-syndrome,” or EBS. EBS can occur in both men and women who suffer from prolonged hunting failure, or PHF. To combat PHF, hunters sometimes try to buy success with the purchase of some hot, new piece of equipment. The reasoning is simple: It’s far easier to change your gear than to change yourself. Unfortunately there is an unlimited amount items to buy, whether it’s some high-tech camo, a new speed bow, or $3000 optics. ATVs are my favorite! Not too long ago ATVs became a requisite for hunting; every serious hunter suddenly needed an ATV. I don’t own one but I love ATVs because ATV-people rarely travel very far from their machines. This keeps the competition down in the woods. People with EBS should focus more attention on the process and less on equipment.
Future hunters have no fear. The woods belong to the brave. All hunters–men, women, and children–must enter the woods without fear of being killed or maimed. Fear is more common than many think, and the problem with being afraid of the woods is it interferes with your focus. To be successful, 100% of your focus needs to be on the vast subtleties of your prey and the environment around you. If you’re scared of the boogie-man or a man-eating bear around every corner, then you’ll miss subtle clues like tracks, rubs, sounds, etc., which will lead you to your prey. The woods are especially spooky when you stay out after dark. But if you wait to enter the woods when it’s light, or return to camp before dark, you’ll miss the best opportunities.
Future hunters spend more days afield. To be successful you must be willing to put in the time. It used to be that one weekend was enough, but not anymore. For me it was four or five days. When I became serious about big bucks, my hunts stretched to a week, then two, and now I’m constantly fighting to free up every single day of the season. Unless you’re incredibly lucky, it’s going to take many days to locate a decent buck and then come up with a viable strategy to take it. These aren’t the same animals grandpa hunted.
Future hunters are invisible. We addressed invisibility techniques in a previous article. To recap, being invisible means entering the woods in a way that you’re not detected. This means using the wind and scent reduction techniques while avoiding audible and visible clues as you move through the woods. Today’s bucks rarely give you a second chance. If he detects danger he’ll flee the area and your hunt is over. Another facet of being invisible is being invisible to the public’s eyes. In this information age it’s more important than ever to keep your hunting locations a secret. It seems like every time I disclose any information to anybody, I lose my area forever. There’s just too much competition for very limited resources these days. Thanks to poor big game management, coupled with an exploding human population, there are simply too few big buck areas left. Once in the field, I try to remain invisible to other people as well. Like many hunters I used to put hunting stickers on my truck. After having my tires slashed during a hunt, I no longer announce myself as a hunter. I don’t want anyone knowing who I am or where I’m hunting.
Conclusion
For all of evolution, both predator and prey have been forced to adapt to each other in order to survive. In today’s world, finding and harvesting a trophy animal is becoming increasingly difficult. Today’s deer are ingenious survivors capable of adapting rapidly and evading us no matter what we throw at them.
In the near future I foresee a divide between hunters and the formation of two distinct hunter types: a) Traditional hunters hunting yesterday’s ghosts and rarely having success, and b) modern super-hunters continually adapting their methods and dedicating more and more resources to their greatest passion, and ultimately having consistent success on quality bucks.
The next two articles address the future of hunting and the changes I predict will happen to both hunters and their prey through the natural process of adaptation and evolution.
The Future of Hunting (Part 1)
Rest assured hunting will change in the future, just as it has been changing rapidly over the last 30 years or so. The three primary factors driving these changes: a) an exploding human population, b) the development of super high-tech hunting equipment, and c) the hyper-adaptation of prey-animals which is necessary for their survival, especially concerning elk and deer.
What’s been occurring, and will continue to occur is a split–or chasm–between hunters and super-hunters. Hunters will either do what it takes to get a buck, or they will fail most of the time. Most hunters can be divided into two camps depending on their priorities. These two camps are: a) Super-hunters dedicated to the sport and willing to spend tremendous resources for trophy-class animals, and b) Fair-weather hunters who spend little time afield, hunt mostly for fun rather than food, hunt mostly on weekends, and are happy with any deer, whether a spike or a 4-point.
A similar split is occurring between regular deer and super-deer. This means there will be isolated groups of less experienced and less pressured animals that react much like their ancestors did and get shot. The rest will adapt quickly to modern hunters, developing much more specialized bodies and evading the average hunter for life.
Here are some of the changes I predict will occur, or are already occurring, in today’s deer and elk:
Future Changes in Deer
Deer will become completely nocturnal. The reason you see more deer at evening and morning is because they’re most active at night. But if left undisturbed, deer will occasionally rise and feed during the day. In the future, not so much. Deer’s eyes are already adapted to see well at night, but in the future I predict that their eyesight will become further specialized to low-light conditions. The trade-off is that their eyes will become highly light-sensitive, causing them to bed even farther into super-deep/dark timber and never emerge until it’s completely dark. I’ve already witnessed deer doing this in high-hunter pressure areas. So much for seeing deer early and late.
Deer will grow narrower racks. This is already the case in places like Oregon and Washington where bucks live in dense timber full time. Since the popularization of the long-range rifle, I’ve noticed that deer in the Intermountain West the previously fed in the open are now spending more time in the thick timber. And since a wider rack impedes their movement, their antlers are already becoming narrower.
Deer will grow longer legs, similar to elk. Deer naturally have a difficult time moving through deep snow; basically anything over 30 inches. Thus, they are forced to winter on lower elevations. The problem is that humans are developing on most winter range elevations, especially here in Utah. This makes them highly susceptible to death via highways, dogs, poachers, destruction of native forage, and other wintertime stresses that force them to burn through fat reserves. As this is a fairly recent phenomenon, deer haven’t had time to develop bigger bodies and longer limbs which would allow them to winter at much higher elevations; but they will, eventually!
Deer will grow bigger hooves. Until recently, deer haven’t had to live in very cliffy or rocky terrain. But they are starting to. With increased pressure, dwindling habitat and the threat of long-range rifles, deer are increasingly forced into some very unnaturally rugged terrain. My brother-in-law Josh actually found bucks living in and around caves in the unit where he hunts. Have you ever noticed how small a deer’s hooves are compared to cliff-dwelling species such as sheep or goats? As a taxidermist I’ve had the opportunity to compare various characteristics between species. Sheep and goats have approximately the same body mass as deer, but their hooves are nearly twice as big. Other than size, another interesting difference between deer and goat hooves is the foot pad. The footpad of any hooved animal is made of a softer, cartilage-like material. But the goat’s hoof is much softer than the deer’s which allows goats to grip onto rocks easier. I predict that deer will develop not only bigger hooves, but softer ones too.
Deer will grow bigger brains. Any trophy hunter already knows how incredibly smart today’s bucks are, but they will become smarter yet! This is a simple law of nature: survival of the fittest. As humans develop smarter hunting technology, the deer will be forced to adapt. In a previous article I wrote about the different and ingenious ways that deer have adapted to hunters in just my lifetime. Big bucks are using higher levels of intelligence to evade hunters. Some examples include using does as security buffers between open feed and tree line, moving into non-deer habitat such as caves, and using complex sentinel-based security systems.
Future Changes in Elk
Now let’s look at future changes in elk:
Elk will become mostly silent, like deer! After just a few decades of calling to them, big bulls are becoming increasingly less vocal. This is the basis of the relatively recent “silent calling” technique, wherein modern bulls often approach a caller without calling back. Thirty years ago it was easy to bugle up a bull. Now that bulls have wizened up to bugling techniques, we’ve switched over to primarily cow calling. But even this technique is becoming increasingly ineffective. Smart bulls now distrust any calling and rely instead on wind and scent before coming to a call. Simultaneously archery equipment has become far more efficient, forcing bulls to hang up farther and farther back. Now I predict a time when elk are completely silent and use scent and wind direction to rut around, just like deer already do.
Elk will grow narrower and smaller racks. Just like deer, elk will move deeper and deeper into thick timber and will therefore be forced to grow narrower racks for easier travel through dense timber.
Elk will grow bigger ears. Relative to their body, elk ears are fairly small, albeit efficient. But just like their mule deer cousins, there’ always room for bigger ears. Since elk will become more timber-dwelling, and since sound doesn’t travel nearly as far in thick forests, elk will need bigger ears to locate both danger and other elk.
Elk will develop better vision. Elk and deer eyes are practically the same: good night vision, wide field of vision, and sensitive to movement. But deer species’ eyes have two major weaknesses: a) they can’t see the color red, and b) they can’t see fine detail. This is why an elk can’t see you standing five feet away, unless you move. Of course they use their noses to make up for this shortcoming, but their eyesight has room for improvement. In the future I predict elk and deer will either develop the ability to see a broader color spectrum, and/or their eyes will evolve to see better detail.
Elk will have smaller bodies. During the last ice age, animals had much bigger bodies which allowed them to survive better in low temps, move through deep snow, and evade larger predators like the saber-toothed tigers. After the ice age, animals got smaller. Today’s elk are much larger than most other western big game animals. This is advantageous during winter, but for the rest of the year it hinders them in two ways: a) they need to water more frequently, and b) they need to eat more food more often. As any predator knows, it’s much easier to ambush an animal that’s feeding and watering. Unlike deer, this makes hunting elk over water a viable option. Also, because elk are grazers rather than foragers, it’s easier to predict food sources and travel routes. In the future, smaller elk won’t need to water as often and will likely adapt their stomachs to include browse-type foods such as forbs/shrubs/etc. As a result, they will bed earlier, rise later and probably become completely nocturnal as well.
Elk will grow smarter. I suppose they’re already kinda smart, but they’re getting smarter yet. Last year, while hunting with my wife, we called up a herd bull by using an estrus call. The bull came stomping in, and then, just before showing himself, pushed two cows right through us. When the cows passed the shooter they picked up her scent and bolted taking the bull with them. This well-thought-out security measure worked perfectly. In the future I predict elk will develop even more sophisticated security techniques to avoid hunters.
Conclusion
For all of evolution, both predator and prey were forced to adapt to each other to survive. In today’s world, finding and harvesting a trophy animal is getting increasingly more difficult each year. Today’s deer are ingenious survivors capable of adapting to us and evading us no matter what we throw at them. It just proves that technology isn’t the answer.
On the flip side, we should be thankful that our beloved deer are such brilliant survivors. Otherwise there wouldn’t be anything left to hunt.
Stay tuned for the next article where we analyze the future of hunting and the division between hunting camps. I think you’re gonna like it.
In hunting, it’s not enough to be stealthy; you must be INVISIBLE!
These words echoed in my head last year while bowhunting. It occurred to me that being stealthy–or super-sneaky–isn’t enough. You must move through the woods in a way that you are completely undetectable. But what does it mean to be invisible?
Being invisible requires 100% control over your presence in the woods. This is especially critical when hunting giant muley bucks (aka super-bucks or mega-bucks). Big bucks are infinitely smarter than little bucks, not allowing even the slightest amount of hunter pressure. Heck, half the time these bucks explode out of the woods and THEY don’t even know why!
Seriously, if you’ve spent any amount of time hunting monster bucks, you know what I’m talking about. Last year I had a 180-class get up and leave the area simply because a squirrel fired up ahead of him.
I’ve divided my invisibility management techniques into three categories: scent, sight, and sound:
Scent Control
Scent is always number one. Many hunters don’t realize just how sensitive the giant snout of a deer is. More deer bust out ahead of you, not because they’ve seen you but because they’ve smelled you. The first rule of invisibility means you hunt with the wind in your face. Otherwise you must adjust your approach or back out completely.
Scent control doesn’t just apply to wind direction, but to your person and property. While walking through the brush your clothing/footwear is leaving behind scent molecules on the ground, foliage, and everything else that you touch. Whether you’re aware of it or not, deer eventually figure out every place you’ve been in the woods just by sniffing around. That’s why it’s so easy to blow out an entire area just by being there, hidden from view or not.
Last year I sat briefly on a rock outcropping to rest and scan the hillside. I moved 100 yards farther and sat again. Pretty soon a little 2×2 buck came along the same route. He stopped at the rock outcropping and sniffed the ground, then immediately jerked his head up and stared in every direction before briskly moving away. I couldn’t believe how easily he picked up my scent!
To manage scent–or just to feel better about it–I use scent killer spray every morning before heading out. It’s especially important to spray down the entirety of your boots. Still, you should avoid any unnecessary trips through woods or feeding areas where you suspect big bucks will travel, even at night.
And then there’s everyone’s favorite subject: urination and defecation! Inevitably you’re gonna have to leave a surprise in the woods, and with any luck the urge will hit you right smack in the middle of your “prime” area.
So what do you do? Wrap up your presents. What I mean is, get your goods underground no matter what. Whenever possible I look for the biggest rock or boulder I can find and roll it over. In it’s void I’ll leave my goods, then return the rock to it’s original position. (Uh, it’s easier than packing a shovel.)
Another good strategy is to find a ground squirrel’s hole (quite common out West). Funnel your surprises down there, and then cover it up. This stinks for the squirrel, but pre-dug holes are very convenient for the hunter. When hunting prime areas I’ll sometimes carry a urination bottle and pack my secrets out with me. Your only other option is to take a side trip to another part of the woods (preferably where your buddies hunt).
Sight
Assuming a buck hasn’t picked up your scent, the next biggest threat to invisibility is sight. Don’t think just because you’re fully camo-clad that the deer can’t see you. Camo or not, deer’s eyes are specially designed to pick up the slightest movement. But there’s a trade-off: deer can easily see normal movement, but are almost blind to very slow movement.
I tested this in 2013 while stalking a cow elk bedded facing me. There was no other approach according to the wind, so I elected to walk straight at her in super-slow motion. Somehow, over the course of three hours, I got within bow range in the semi-wide open! Unfortunately, it took so long to close the distance that she finally unbedded and fed away before I could get a shot.
Next, keep to the shadows. If a deer is facing the sun–as they often do when bedded–their pupils are adjusted to brightness, and shadows become nearly black, or invisible. I got caught last year in the open by a good buck that bedded down facing me at 60 yards. Fortunately I was in the shadows and the buck never knew I was there. A basic understanding of light dynamics is helpful in remaining invisible.
I’m no gear-nut, but with regards to camo patterns I tend towards high-contrast camo because it breaks up my human outline more effectively than semi-solid patterns. Whatever camo you choose, be sure to match the type of terrain you’re hunting.
Lastly, whenever possible enter your prime hunting area before first light. Now, deer are mostly nocturnal and see just fine at night. So a wide open approach is a no go. That being said, deer feel much more secure at night and will be more forgiving of the inevitable sights and sounds you do make.
Sound
This is fairly obvious. Assuming you’ve used the wind for scent control and stayed out of view, human noise is your next obstacle. Human noise is always present simply by existing. Not only is breathing, sneezing, and coughing a constant threat, but you will always make some kind of sound with every single footstep or arm movement.
To remain audibly invisible I only wear soft- and thin-soled boots. If that’s not quiet enough, I’ll take my boots off and stalk-in-socks. I also lean towards tight-fitting clothing and soft fabrics. If I have to open a zipper or button, I’ll muffle it with my fingers or gloves. To avoid unnatural “clanks” on your bow and gear, tape moleskin over any plastic or metal parts such as your bow, quiver arrow rest, backpack, and bino harness.
Use the terrain to your advantage. The quietest substrates to step on are soft dirt, wet ground, logs, and rocks. Whenever possible I hop from rock to rock, or soft dirt and logs. One advantage to having ground squirrels in abundance is the soft dirt mounds they create everywhere on a daily basis.
Especially important is the use of cover noise. Surprisingly, the woods can quite noisy at times. Timing your footsteps with natural sounds (or even unnatural sounds) such as wind, planes, flying grasshoppers, squirrels, birds, and other animals, provides plenty of options when you need to get one step closer.
The deer themselves can make quite a cacophony. Deer ears are much easier to fool when they are feeding, fighting, or raking a tree. In crunchy snow or dry leaf situations I’ll actually use the deer’s footsteps to mask my own. As an aside, watch the deer’s ears whenever possible and time your movements for when it’s ears are swiveled away from you. It’s not foolproof, but it helps.
Finally, keep your camp quiet! Avoid music, door slamming, unnecessary driving around, and drunken yelling. And whatever you do, don’t make a big, smelly fire! There’s no point in announcing your presence at camp and then try ghosting your way through the woods the next day.
Conclusion
In conclusion, when hunting super-bucks it’s not enough to be stealthy; you must remain invisible. Each time you venture into the woods, make it a goal not to exist. There are far too many variables working against you already. Don’t become a variable yourself.
Novice hunters think there are two kinds of deer: spooked deer and un-spooked deer. What they learn over time is that there are many different levels of alertness.
If you get a chance to watch a relaxed deer in his summertime routine, you’ll notice that his ears are low, his eyes are calm and staring straight ahead, and he holds his head in a low and relaxed fashion. An alert buck is the opposite: his eyes are wide, his ears are forward and his head is erect and staring. Now, somewhere between these two opposites is where bucks reside most of the time.
As opening day rolls around, the majority of bucks already know it before the first shot is fired. They’ve heard the trucks and ATVs rolling in and can smell the campfires. Even before hunting season, a buck’s internal clock alerts him to impending danger of upcoming hunting season just by the angle of the sun. Any buck who has survived a few hunts knows that danger starts showing up at the beginning of autumn. Even worse, if there are lots of natural predators around—like cougars and coyotes—then a buck is already living in a state of high alertness at all times. This makes them even more difficult to hunt.
On high-pressured public lands, big bucks live full-time on a heightened level of alertness. Therefore, an accurate assessment your target buck’s alertness level will dictate your approach. For example, if a buck is bedded and alert, then you must be more cautious than when he is dozing off.
Over the years I’ve developed a rating system for assessing a buck’s different levels of alertness. A level 0 means the buck is carefree and happy with no pressure from predators. A level 5 means he’s turned inside out and running for his life. Your job is to figure out what level the buck is on, and adjust your approach accordingly. The following is my alertness level assessment system:
Levels of Alertness in Deer
Level 0
Level 0 is very rare, and basically means the buck isn’t alert at all. This only occurs in totally unpressured areas—such as unhunted private property or very remote country. It can also occur pre- or post-hunting seasons after the buck has calmed down and is in a relaxed routine. Level 0 also assumes that there are very minimal natural predators in the area.
Level 1
The hunting season has begun, but the buck is bedded in a far-away, secure area with the wind at his back. His eyes are closed, ears are pinned back, and he’s chewing his cud. Or maybe he’s sleeping with his chin flat on the ground. Otherwise, he’s up and feeding with a small group (for security). His head remains buried in the bush for long periods of time and he expects little or no threat of danger. Or perhaps he’s completely pre-occupied while rubbing a tree or sparring with another deer in a pre-rut state and doesn’t bother to look around for danger. This is an ideal situation for a stalk.
Level 2
The buck is bedded but his head is up and watching for danger. He may have heard or smelled something, but he’s not 100% sure. Maybe there are predators in the area. Or maybe he’s feeding sporadically and lifts his head frequently to scan for danger. Also, any buck that’s on the move–like when he’s traveling to a bed or feed—will be on a level 2 (or above) because deer are always alert when traveling.
Level 3
This is an alert buck scanning for danger. The buck heard, smelled, or saw something out of the ordinary. He’s staring in a particular direction for a prolonged period of time. This is often the case when a squirrel fires up, when forest birds go silent, or when there’s increased road noise in the area. He might be standing up in his bed to have a look around. His head is high and his muscles are tense. In the back of his mind he’s planning the safest possible escape route. However, if the threat doesn’t materialize he’ll likely go back to bed or feed.
Level 4
The buck is tense and ready to bolt. His eyes are wide, head is high, and his ears are pinned forward. A hunter who has sky-lined himself—even at a great distance—almost always triggers a level 4 response. Or maybe he caught your movement or scent, or heard an un-natural sound nearby, like the clanking of an arrow or a breaking twig. Either way he’s not sticking around. The hunter is pinned down and unable to move. If you can’t get a shot soon, he’s gone.
Level 5
The buck explodes from his bed at close range, scaring you half to death. It’s all over; dust and butts are all you see. The buck saw or smelled you and confirmed the danger. He probably hunkered down in terror at first—until you were almost on top of him—his nose twitching, eyes watering—then blasted out of bed. He’ll likely run non-stop for a mile and you won’t see the buck again this season.
Final Assessment
In the future I urge you to practice assigning levels of alertness to the bucks you encounter. It’s fun and can be a handy tool in judging a situation ahead of a stalk. When watching deer with my wife, I’ll frequently assess a deer’s current level of alertness. She probably thinks I’m some kind of obsessive buck-nut, but I find it helpful nonetheless.
I’m a trophy hunter. On average I spend around 25 days per year beating myself up in the mountains just for a shot at a giant trophy buck. Most years I come home empty-handed, but what can I say; I just love hunting giant bucks! In this article we’ll explore the pros and cons of trophy hunting.
Trophy hunters sometimes get a bad rap, especially from non-hunters who sometimes refer to us as “head hunters.” Their assumption is that we hunt down and kill these majestic critters in cold blood, and then saw their head off and go home. This might be the case for a misguided few, but the hunters I know value the meat as much as the head.
This negative attitude isn’t just held by ignorant anti-hunters, but by other hunters as well. I was conversing with a fellow hunter once about the decline of big bucks over the years. Knowing that I was a trophy hunter he said, “Well, if people wouldn’t shoot all the big ones, there would be more around.” At first I thought he was kidding, but he wasn’t. I responded, “Isn’t that the point? To take the biggest buck you can?” I don’t remember his ignorant response.
A Case for Trophy Hunting
Aside from the large quantity of meat that trophy bucks provide, I don’t think there is anything more beautiful and majestic as a trophy mule deer buck with a massive rack. And since I only get to hunt one deer each year, why not make it something special?
But the best part of chasing trophy bucks with a bow is the extreme challenge it offers. Nothing tests a hunter’s skills like chasing trophy bucks on public land. The reward is so great that I won’t even think about pulling an arrow until I’ve verified a genuine superbuck. Each year my mantra is “One tag, one year, one superbuck.”
A while back I began pondering the ethics of trophy hunting. What were the pros and cons of trophy hunting? Is it more helpful or harmful to target trophies? As it turns out, trophy hunting is very beneficial, not only to deer herds in general, but to non-trophy hunters as well. Here’s what I discovered.
Trophy hunting does the following:
Provides more meat to fill the freezer and feed the family. Trophy heads come with trophy bodies and that means lots of venison. A mature buck weighs twice as much as a yearling.
Removes old, declining, and territorial bucks from the herd. This in turn allows more opportunities for young buck to reach maturity.
80% of bucks five years and older will die of old age, not hunter harvest. Since these bucks are essentially unhuntable for the average hunter, then the trophy hunter doesn’t compete directly with non-trophy hunters.
Even veteran trophy hunters fail to harvest a trophy buck more often than not. Because trophy hunters aren’t shooting as many deer, it leaves more animals in the field which in turn provides greater opportunities for other hunters.
Trophy hunters spend more days afield than the average hunter. This equates to a richer hunting experience, in my opinion. This is probably the best part of being a trophy hunter.
Don’t be a “baby killer!” Being a trophy hunter means you’re not killing yearling or two -year-old bucks. Unlike older bucks, young bucks haven’t learned the art of evasion, so killing them isn’t really “fair chase” in my opinion. Several years ago there was a kill-anything mentality around our elk camp. On the last day of the season I had a young elk calf walk by at 20 yards. I drew my bow, but after looking at his cute, fuzzy face I just couldn’t bring myself to release my arrow. I got some razzing back at camp since “calves have better meat,” but shooting babies doesn’t seem fair to me.
Let’s not forget the greatest benefit of trophy hunting: A big, beautiful rack displayed on the wall in magnificent glory to serve as a life-long reminder of an unforgettable hunt! Nature really makes the best art.
Conclusion
In the end I can’t think of a single disadvantage to trophy hunting, well, aside from frequent failure. But oft-found failure is easily overshadowed by the occasional harvest of true monster-buck.
