Big Game Illustrated - Issue 11

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ILLUSTRATED BIG GAME

06

Volume 3 Issue 3 Winter Edition 2015

12

In This Issue...

6

A Guide’s Year by Rob Brown

12 Public Land Giant by Jason Leonhart 18 Eiffel Tower by Emery Will 22 Obsession by Jill Walsh 32

28 Alberta Open Country Mule Deer 32

by Seth Carlisle

Clubs by Todd Bowes

36 Brothers Browtine Buck Adventure

by Zac Geith

42 New Canadian Antelope Record by Tannis Piotrowski 46 Whatever it Takes by Jason Spenst 52

52

Bow Brows by Lindsay Wilkinson

58 Big Alberta Six by Dawn Logie 62

A Season to Remember by Levi Leary

66 Jumbo by Adam Deutscher 80

72

Philly by Derek Muche

80

Yukon River Monster by Shaun Parent

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Early season bachelor group.

Cody Forsberg Photo

FEATURES...

17 Reflections of the Season

by Chad Wilkinson Once the season wraps up, it is a long wait for next year. It is important to look back at the season and pick out the positives.

70 Perspective

by Kaare Gunderson Hunting can be an intense activity. It is much more enjoyable if a proper perspective is kept and the focus remains on the activity rather than the result.

78

The Future of Hunting Dedicated to all the young hunters.

40

Chronic Wasting Disease

by Saskatchewan CWD Working Group A summary of CWD in Western Canada, specifically it’s origin.

76 Everything Outdoors

by Kevin Wilson

‘Score’ can become an obsession. The focus of the hunt should never come down to a number.

Darren Kisilevich (right) and Rob Brown had an incredible year in northern Alberta in 2014. Within a week they both put giant bucks on the ground! Rob’s buck has a gross score of 186 5/8”, including over 15” of abnormals and a unicorn point while Rob’s buck goes an impressive18”!

D

an, he's 150 yards chasing the doe! Do you see him?”, I blurted out, louder than I should have.

“Yeah he's huge!”, Dan replied.

“Get on the sticks, it's now or never. Take the shot!”, I replied. Boom, the gun barked but it was obviously a clean miss!

“He's going to be out of sight shortly, shoot again!” I again said too loudly.

“I think I hit him Rob!”, was Dan’s reply.

“No, shoot again” I replied shortly. Boom, the gun barked again!

“He's down Rob, he's down!” Dan said. It was at that moment it dawned on me. In the confusion and the group of deer in front of us, Dan had been shooting at another buck the whole time. My heart sank as we walked up on the buck he had taken.

BY: ROB BROWN

What should have been an upper 180 class buck lying in front of us was instead a yearling deer with two spikes on his head.

Life even as a guide can be confused for a dream job sometimes, but like any job it can have its bad days, bad weeks and sometimes even bad months! Days like the one that me and Dan were having are the most dreaded days as a guide. The whole drive back, the two of us were speechless. I stared out

the windshield over top of my clenched white knuckled fist thinking, “What could I have done differently? If I had the gun would things have been different? How big really was that deer? Where is he headed? Will I ever see him again?� All these questions and more raced through my mind, many of which I thought would never be answered.

Two days passed, with images of that deer running away

burned in my head. I couldn't sleep at night and a state of depression was slowly setting in, tearing away at the ambition I had to keep my head up and continue. But as a guide it's your job to continually learn from your mistakes and try and better yourself so that it doesn't happen again. Deer like that only show up once, and very rarely do they give you an opportunity but when they do, you have to rise to the occasion and make every shot count.

With a new client Jeff Mayo coming in, I was forced to put the pieces back together and put my game face on. He was on a dream hunt, and expects the most from his guide, like every client should. The day Jeff arrived we grabbed his licenses and had a quick talk about what we could expect for the hunt.

Within a couple hours, Jeff was up to speed on how everything worked and excited for the morning hunt. The first morning of Jeff 's hunt, it was 20 below. It was near perfect conditions and the plan was to take a look around a few properties I had permission on and see if we could put a stalk on a big mule deer.

Rounding the first corner at the very first property I wanted to check, I realized I was a little late. It seemed the majority of the deer were already leaving the back of the field. We stopped and began glassing the area, hoping that a few stragglers would still be around. We spotted three deer still standing in the corner, and I could make out one bigger body shadow pushing a doe around. Jeff and I ducked out of sight, raced up the tree line and in a few short minutes Jeff had a beautiful 197 inch mule deer buck on the ground and I was back to living the dream!

A few days later we were finishing the week up. We helped the clients leave with all the racks in tow. I was proud to say that Jeff ’s deer was the biggest mule deer in camp that week. We had a brief meeting with the bosses Scott and Sheila Taylor of Bearpaw outfitting who were quick to inform us of a hole in the schedule that would leave us a couple days off. My next question was, “What do you want me to do and how can I help?” What happened next was completely unexpected and was words that in my five years as a guide at Bearpaw, I thought I would never hear. Scott said, “Rob, it's time you put one on the wall. Go hunt!”

Without hesitation, I quickly checked my rifle and was ready

to go. Another guide Darren Kisilevich wanted to tag along, so on the afternoon of November 10, I decided to head back to the same field where I watched the biggest whitetail I had ever witnessed in person disappear into the fringe of the never ending forest a week prior. We quickly found ourselves in a blind 300 yards away from where the buck was last seen. Knowing our odds were low, I didn’t dare think that we were actually going to see the deer. In all my experience, I knew that would've been unrealistic. We were just thankful to be out and actually hunting for ourselves and it really didn't matter if we were successful or not. The fact that we were out and there was no pressure to produce a sighting was already a weight off our shoulders and we were just enjoying the hunt with no focus on the outcome.

The light began to fade, and with an hour left of legal light, a short glance to my right revealed an unbelievable sight! I couldn't believe what I was seeing. 55 yards away, there he was, pushing a doe in the wide open! I handed the gun to Darren, wasting no time and said, “Shoot him! Just shoot him!” As the buck chased the doe to the front of the blind and started going straight away Darren lost his shot and had to switch windows but instead he passed the gun back into my hands and said, “You shoot him.” In disbelief, and with no time to kiss Darren with gratitude, I shouldered his .270 and for some unknown reason I asked Darren, “Is it big?

It's big right?”

Darren replied, “He's huge, it’s now or never. Take the shot!” Boom! I pancaked him, as he fell right in his tracks! Walking up to my dream buck, it hit me! This is what it's like to shoot a monster. I could see the guide in Darren come out, but next to him was the 12-year-old kid I became, the same transformation that I saw so often in my hunters. Shooting a giant is something akin to a fairytale. It is not explainable and a moment you'll never forget in a million lifetimes.

We had one more day to hunt and Darren still had a tag! Little did we

know that he was about to have a similar experience. Darren was ready to make a plan for the evening hunt. After a lengthy discussion, as is typical of Darren, he decided to go out on a limb and head south, way south to an area rarely seen by our guides.

Our good buddy Evan Legal, me and Darren piled into Darren’s truck and hit the road. A short two hours later, we still weren’t there. Darren was still bound and determined that he was going to put a buck on the ground this year. After seeing mine, he had to find one!

The evening hunt was slow, and with light fading on us, Darren made a call to head into an area where he had seen good populations of whitetails the year prior.

We made it to the bush and Darren said we needed to walk up the bush line and watch the back of the field for the last hour of light remaining. A 600 yard walk put us on the corner of the fence line, edging the field. 15 minutes into the sit, Darren whispered, “There’s a buck!” Evan and I were trying to see horns on a deer that was 500 yards away through our binos when we both said, “Are you sure?”

“Left! Guys look to the left!” Darren excitedly replied.

“Oh yeah, it's a buck. How big? Did you get a good look Darren?” I said. I'm not exactly sure what Darren’s response was as the buck puffed up like a strutting gobbler, kicking snow up

and showing his dominance.

Darren said, “If he gets closer, I'm shooting!” As if the deer was on a string, he chased the small buck into 300 yards. It was still difficult to make out the dark horns silhouetted against the timber backdrop on the bigger of the two. As my eyes strained to see details, a shot rang out without warning!

With a WHACK, the buck had a well-placed shot into him and with the follow-up shot Darren had two well-placed shots bringing his deer to the ground! Excited to see exactly what it was we walked up to it and we were blown away to find Darren's buck with a whopping 185 inches of bone on its head!!

At the end of the day, deer this big are very rare and are very hard to run into during hunting light. It should not be an expectation on a short hunt. People that consistently take giant deer are consistently out there, putting in the ground work and hours in the stand. If you are only out to hunt the biggest and the best of bucks there are no shortcuts and you must be prepared to eat your tag more times than not. On the other hand, sometimes it happens fast and you have to be ready!

A giant thank you to Scott and Sheila Taylor of Bearpaw outfitting for allowing us to pursue a life long dream it will never be forgotten.

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Jason Leonhart anchored this tremendous typical on public ground after going the extra mile and crossing a river order to access the area! His area has tremendous pressure so in order to get away from the crowds you have to think outside the box and Jason did just that. The buck is a mainframe typical 6x7 that has a net score of 173�, easily putting it into the record books.

P LAND

BY: JASON LEONHART

UBLIC

GIANT T

he state of Iowa has one of lowest percentages of public ground in the United Stated. Generally, these areas are open to hunting for just about anything that has a hunting season.

You would think that this mean that the few parcels that are there would be overrun with hunters. However, for one reason or another, some are not. In my particular case, I hunt a piece of public ground that has very difficult access. The only way to get to it is to cross a river, or gain access from a landowner who does not give permission to anyone! As I result, I own a good pair of waders and regularly use them to cross the river to get into my own ‘private’ public ground.

It is a beautiful piece of property and it still amazes me that more people don’t take the two minutes required to put on some boots get into places like this. On the other hand, I’m glad they don’t.

The first time I hunted this piece of ground was seven or eight years ago. That night I watched a giant buck enter the field as I sat hidden on the edge. He came out where a few trees jutted out from the main piece of forest that surrounded a large field. Two days later, I went in to hang a stand where I had watched him come out.

The only problem was that there were no suitable trees to hang a tree stand. After that, I just kind of blew the spot off and moved on to other opportunities.

Fast forward to 2013 and I was back hanging a treestand overlooking the field. One of my first sits, as I was perched in the stand on a high ridge that overlooked most of the same property, a gagger of a buck entered the field from the exact spot as a few years back! Something was special about this little finger protruding out into the field. I had been chasing a 180 inch 10 pointer in a different area, so I decided not to take time during the season to move over to this new spot. I promised myself that next year I was going to have a stand there.

A week before bow season in 2014, I went to hang a stand in this spot. Small trees, dead trees and crooked box elder trees were my only options. Not wanting to carry a heavy ladder stand a mile in, my best option was to hand my stand in a 5 inch diameter tree. Moving at all made the whole tree shake, but I would just have to deal with it and learn to sit extremely still. I cut a few branches for a couple shooting lanes and called it good.

By the time season started on September 1, 2014, I had 23 stands ready to go. I usually hunt only one or two times a year from a single stand. I’ve learned my lesson not to burn out the same stands over and over, and year after year. If you only hunt a good stand one or two times you can hunt them for many years. I let the wind direction determine which one I’m going to sit in to make sure any mature bucks I am hunting never know I am there.

I try to have stands for every wind direction. I also consider some stands to be for early season & some for the rut. Most of my early season stands are somewhere around a food source.

My rut stands are usually situated in some kind of funnel.

Sunday Oct 19, 2014 was the first day when I had a perfect south wind for my new set. I crossed the river, walked a mile to my tree, climbed up my rope and got in my stand. I had a good feeling that night. I snapped a few pictures with my I-phone and settled in for the night. I try to keep track of how many times I go hunting each year. Taking pics on my phone lets me look back on each sit, so I have a pretty good idea of how much time I've spent in the woods at the end of the year.

The action started that night when several does fed out past me and none of them winded me. Even though it was relatively warm and a little breezy everything felt perfect. Shortly before dark, a couple more does crossed a ravine in the woods below me. They were probably 100 yards away. Not long after, through the trees and brush I saw a good buck with tall G 4’s following behind them. A quick look with my binos and I could tell he was a bruiser! I watched for a couple minutes but they weren’t coming in my direction at all. I’ve always read if you see a big buck, you have to do everything you can right then and there to kill him. This is especially true on public ground. I needed to do something, and fast. I waited until he was just out of sight & I snort wheezed twice as loud as I could. I didn’t know if he could hear me due to the wind, but thirty seconds later I turned around in my stand and smashed my rattling antlers together as load as I could for about thirty seconds. A minute later I could hear leaves crunching and knew something was coming my way. I was sure hoping it was him! Not long after, I could make out antlers through the brush. I spotted some long G4’s and knew it was the same buck. I knew right away he was a definite shooter. It was an awe inspiring sight, as I watched him march up to me. He was all bristled up ready for a fight as he stopped at a scrape 40 yards away and thrashed some branches for several minutes. He continued on and tried to kill a tree at the edge of the field. I’ve never seen a buck rub a tree that hard before. It was almost like he was putting on a show for someone. Little did he know he really was!

After he wrecked the tree, he stepped out into the field. He was almost exactly where I had envisioned shooting him, and perfectly broadside. I was already at full draw, so when he cleared the last branch I let the arrow fly! Somehow my bowstring hit the sleeve of my jacket and my arrow veered to the right. It stuck him ahead of the shoulder. I immediately cussed at myself and was worried. The big deer turned around and sprinted into the thick timber. I thought I heard him crash about 60 yards away, which surprised me after the marginal

hit. Then everything went silent. I gave him 15 minutes and slid down my rope to the ground.

Normally I would have waited longer to go look for him, but it was getting dark fast. I shortly found the front half of my arrow. It was actually broke off right in the scrape he had just made. The blood trail was easy to follow and he was piled up not far away! I picked up his head & let out a little yell of emotion. He was even bigger than I had thought! He was a typical 7x6 with good mass and good brow tines. What a gorgeous buck! I couldn’t have been happier. An Iowa giant, rattled in on public ground is an experience of a lifetime.

After examining the buck, the exit hole was actually right

through his far shoulder, which means when I thought he was perfectly broadside, he was actually quartering to me. So I was lucky my string hit my arm, because it turned out to be a perfect shot after all. It just goes to show you sometimes what you think happened isn't always what actually happened. I have to say thanks to my dad and brother in law for the mile long drag out. I hope I can return the favor someday. Also, I have to give a shout out to the Iowa DNR for managing places like this. I wish everyone reading this could feel how rewarding it is to have this kind of experience on public land.

My buck had thirteen score able points and netted 173.

Reflections on the Seasons BY: CHAD WILKINSON

A

s we look back at the season that has just gone by, it is important to reflect on the positives and negatives of all the adventures. Hopefully the positives greatly outweigh the negatives. When it comes to hunting, negatives should be few and far between. Of course, there are times where the hunting experience does not work out exactly how we wanted, but as individuals it is only our own thoughts and actions we can control.

A positive attitude in the field is very important and can affect all aspects of the hunt. In business these days, there is a theory called continuous improvement and this is a concept that can easily be applied to the hunting situation. Reflection on the activity, and in this case the season, is a key aspect of continuous improvement.

Of course, setting your goals is important to identify what you want to get out of hunting before you attempt such a process. For many, simply filling the freezer is the goal, while others are looking for the largest animal to take home, and some just want to get out and enjoy the outdoors. If the season went very smoothly with no negatives, then the opportunities for improvement may be limited. If, when looking back, it is clear that there were many negatives, then some reflection and attempts at improvement may be warranted.

In Kaare’s column this issue, he presents a great discussion on perspective. This is a key aspect of hunting and goal setting.

Clearly, if all of your focus and energy is solely focused on killing the largest trophy possible, then the attitude will reflect this and many of the most enjoyable aspects of hunting will be missed.

Perhaps the best example is in a simple treestand sit in an area where know a big deer lives. On any given evening, if the focus is 100% on the final step which is to harvest that specific deer, then many opportunities to enjoy the time out may be missed. An open mind and positive attitude will result in a much more enjoyable experience. Whether it is that bird in the tree beside you, the silence and ‘get away’ experience of being away from everyday life, the close interaction with other animals that may make their way under your treestand, there are almost always many positive experiences if we are open to enjoying and appreciating them. Not only that, but truly experiencing and paying attention to all of these small events will make us better hunters.

There are almost always a few negative experiences that come from being in the field. It is important to put these into context and realize that no matter what activity we are doing, there are going to be some times when things do not work out and some people who do not participate in a respectful way. Education, communication, and sometimes correction may be in order in these cases. Whether its a ruined hunt because of an unethical hunt by someone else, a stolen trail camera, or a tampered with blind or tree stand, these are all activities driven largely by competition and poor ethics. This type of competition, deceit and dishonesty has no place in the hunting community. To make

these types of decisions while hunting, people are likely driven by negative attitudes. The claiming of ‘my deer’ or ‘my spot’ can result in hunters going down a bad road that pulls all the enjoyment out of the sport.

This type of behavior comes back to Kaare’s point, perspective.

We must keep things in perspective, and focus on the experience while we are hunting, not just the final goal. Better yet is if the goal can be adjusted so that the experience is the goal, rather than the kill being the goal. If the experience is the goal, and effort is made to enjoy all aspects of the hunt then success will be reached virtually every time out! Thankfully, most hunters are already making this shift and adjusting goals to reflect the experience rather than only the kill. If the goal is to harvest a large trophy animal, then we as hunters must be very confident in our own abilities and know we will put in the time and effort required to accomplish this regardless of what anyone else does.

On another note, we were asked by a number of organizations to present an article on the state of Chronic Wasting Disease (CWD), and we decided to oblige them since this has the potential to become a very important topic in wildlife management across North America. It is meant as an informational piece for hunters who are interested in becoming more informed. There is already significant pressure for management implications to be applied to hunters and it is important that we all stick together, become more active and join our local hunting organizations to ensure our voices are heard. We all remember the culls of 1000’s of deer that devastated populations in areas, many of which still have not recovered and still have CWD in the areas. Despite these drastic measures, CWD continues to spread.

I encourage everyone to read the information and studies that special interest groups will use as justification to move their positions forward. There have not been any decisions made on how to manage this disease in Saskatchewan, so now is the time to get involved. Many jurisdiction have banned baiting and others have implementated culls. These are hot topics and not ones I want to discuss in detail, other than to say these would take away hunting opportunities and enjoyment from some hunters.

There is virtually no evidence that baiting in western Canada is a contributing factor, and we all know historically the culls failed.

Much more research is needed to show that any measures aimed at hunters would have an impact on the control of CWD. There are countless examples of misinformation and incorrect application of science being used to change hunting regulations and we do not want this to be another example. The key is for us as hunters to have a strong voice. So get out there, join your local hunting organizations and make your voice heard so we can all continue to enjoy the hunt and most importantly ensure our kids can too!

f i e f ETOWERl A

BY: EMERY WILL as told by Caleb Will

s a hunting guide for the past six years, I’ve had plenty of opportunities to help fellow-hunters from all over the world come to British Columbia to fulfill their life-long dreams of harvesting a once-in-a-lifetime trophy. Whether it is a giant bull moose in the mid rut, a mountain goat of a sheer rock face, or a big old grizzly in the high country, I’ve been on them all!

One hunt, however, stands out among the rest. Since I was a young boy, I have dreamed of bagging a big, gnarly mule deer at close range.

Fortunately for my clients, I have guided many successful trophy mule deer hunts over the years; but I had yet to nab one for myself. Finally in 2012 I was able to accomplish my own life-long dream.

My quest began when guiding season was over for the year. We had shot some very respectable bucks that year, and I was pumped to try my luck at filling my own freezer. The problem was that I had only four days to get the job done before hunting season Caleb Will was hunting with his brothclosed, or I would be eating ‘tag soup’ for the rest of the year. er Emery when they put down a sky

Day1: I started out by trying a new area where I had encountered good bucks in the past, but had never hunted much before. I was easing my way through tall, dark timber when I saw what looked to be the biggest, most shredded ‘rub tree’ I had ever come across. There were monster tracks right beside it! I figured a giant buck must call this place home. As I followed the tracks, I ran across one bed after another and lots of tracks. “This is bedding area, but more importantly, there are ‘rubs’ everywhere!” I thought to myself. Clearly I had made the right decision in trying out this new area.

high mule deer they had appropriately named Eiffel Tower. The pair were hunting in the heart of British Columbia when they tagged out on the tall tined buck. The G2’s both reach up over 21”, with both G3’s over 13” and matching G4’s over 15”. The buck also has decent mass contributing to an impressive final score of 192” in the typical category.

Day 2 was much the same as the first day. I didn’t know the terrain as well as I would have liked, so I thought I should look for a good vantage point from which I could sit and watch.

When I rounded the top of a knob on the edge of a cut block, I decided to try something out of the ordinary. I took out the antlers I had with me and started clashing them together as if I was hunting whitetails in the peak of the rut. I had never tried ‘rattling’ for mule deer before, although I had heard legendary stories from clients and fellow guides around the campfire that it may work. I thought it was worth a shot. I waited a few minutes before starting my second round with the antlers, trying to make it sound as real as possible. While I was waiting, I figured I might as well have a quick bite to eat before I kept hiking. I leaned my rifle against a tree and broke out the coffee and granola bars. As I was pouring my coffee, I looked up and there stood the buck of my dreams, looking me straight in the eye! He appeared to be in the mid-170’s, tipped out wide, and had loads of junk and kickers everywhere. In a heartbeat, the staring contest between the buck and I was over. The buck wheeled around and dashed out of the cut-block and into the dark timber below, without giving me a clean, ethical shot.

After finishing my coffee, I decided to hike in the timber, hoping to come across the buck’s tracks. I didn’t find his tracks, but about 60 yards into the timber I stumbled across a buck with a wide 4x4 frame lying in his bed! I crouched down, hoping he hadn’t caught my scent, but the buck bolted out of his bed, stopping about 200 yards from my hiding place. There he did the classic look back to check his trail. I wish the story ended here, but unfortunately there was brush in my line of sight which blocked all the vitals and prevented me from taking an ethical shot. Although I had no shot, I did get a clear view of his rack, and I knew that this was the buck I wanted to go after in the coming days!

Day 3: I headed out with high hopes of finding the monster buck again. My enthusiasm was dampened when a heavy snowstorm blew up. It was snowing so hard it was difficult to find any tracks. I decided to head back up into the timber again as I normally do, but this time I didn’t catch a glimpse of any fresh buck tracks.

With the season nearing its end, I knew I would have to ‘ramp it up’

in order to make this hunt a success. As I was trekking back out that evening, right at last light I saw a buck standing less than 30 yards away on an old logging road. To my surprise, it appeared it be the same heavy, wide, 4x4 muley that I had seen the day before! When he realized I was there, he bounded off, but this encounter gave me hope for the last day of the season, November 30.

Day 4: It had stopped snowing, but the snow had been traded for a stiff wind as I hiked into the area where I had been concentrating my search. I headed straight to where I had seen the most rubs and sign in the last three days. Around mid-day I was lucky enough to find a buck track, but it was considerably smaller than the wide 4x4’s track. However, with the end of the season fast approaching, I had to take a chance and I started tracking. After 30 minutes, the trail led me right to a nice 160’s 4x4. To be honest, I couldn’t complain. A 160-inch muley is still a dandy buck; but knowing a bigger one was in the area, I opted to pass on him. First, though, I thought I’d have a little fun and see how close I could get before he busted me. I followed him for a while, but he saw me and took off. As he dashed away, to my surprise the younger buck had spooked up another buck out of his bed! I didn’t get a good luck, but snuck up to find the tracks. As I got close, the tracks seemed big, so I tracked him for about two hours, going slow and steady so as not to spook him, while at the same time scanning every cedar thicket for signs of the big, old buck. I scanned every inch and came up with nothing.

It was now only hours before the end of the season. It was

getting cold, and the wind was still howling. Finally, as I came around a tree, I spotted the sight I had been waiting for. It was a good, mature buck hiding in a cedar thicket only 40 yards away! He was feeding on some small cedars, and the best part was that he had no idea I was there. I was able to lie down and get a good rest. As I put the scope on him, all I saw was a dark-antlered, giant-forked rack upon the huge bodied buck.

After only a moment, the buck wandered out into an opening, giving me a clear shot at his vitals. I put the cross hairs on his lungs, and slowly pulled the trigger. BOOM! He dropped instantly, and I knew I had just harvested a great buck. Immediately, I was guessing a solid 180”! As I got closer, there was no ‘ground shrinkage’. With what looked like the Eiffel Tower

on his head, he kept on getting taller and taller! When I finally got to put my hands on him, I couldn’t believe how deep his forks were. With both G-2’s over 21”, G-3’s at 13”, and the G-4 scoring at 15”, decent mass, and tall tines, the buck ended up scoring an impressive 192” typical. After caping him out and deboning him, I set out on my four kilometer hike in the dark back to the truck.

This hunt tested me both physically and mentally. I am fortunate to have had the chance to harvest such a great buck.

Some would call it “A buck of a lifetime;” but personally I don’t like saying, “it’s a once in a lifetime buck” because I plan on getting another giant to put up next to him on the wall. Perhaps I’ll even get a crack at that wide 4x4!

www.saskbowhunters.ca

“We saw two bucks come out of the bush to the north. Both Tyler and

I instantly stiffened up and froze. Then, out he marched! “Strong, beautiful and breathtaking,” were the thoughts that went through my mind.

It was my buck! He was 120 yards east of us and, to be honest, I was in complete shock. Another buck came out and the three of them began sparring when a fourth came out. It was the most incredible thing I have ever had the pleasure to watch.”

Jill Walsh with a real Alberta beauty she took in the 2014 season. From the moment she captured a trail camera picture of the big deer in velvet she was obsessed with him and stuck with it until she finally could put her hands on him. The big deer has long beams, with both stretching over 25”. Perhaps the most striking feature is the long brow tines which each go well over 7”. It adds up to a tremendous gross score of 178 7/8”.

OB

BSESSION BY: JILL WALSH

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t all started this past summer when I caught a glimpse of the buck that immediately became my obsession. I decided to tag along with my boyfriend, Tyler, to check his trail cameras. When we got home we quickly uploaded the photos and it happened. There was an amazing, handsome whitetail buck! My jaw dropped and I stared in amazement at the magnificent animal. I knew I just had to have him. I looked at Tyler and said, “I’ll do whatever it takes to make this happen!”

He gladly took me under his wing and taught me all I needed to learn.

I’m no stranger to a gun or shooting, but hunting an animal and all that comes with it was all very new and extremely fascinating to me. I became very persistent and eager. We checked the cameras regularly and began to pattern him as closely as we could. Watching him grow for the next few months was remarkable. I kept hoping that the day would come and I could make this all reality.

Hunting season opened and I was like a child again. I couldn’t wait to get out there! I had listened to everything Tyler taught me about the hunt. I had practiced with our 25-06.

I was ready! The first evening we walked out into the blind.

We went a little earlier than we needed to but I couldn’t wait any longer. I wanted to sit where I hoped he would be and I didn’t care how long I had to sit there for. It was an uneventful evening, and as a blanket of darkness covered us, there was no sign of him. I felt more determined than ever.

It was pouring down rain on the second day of our hunt.

That didn’t discourage me in the slightest. We geared up and walked in the downpour. I had a strange gut feeling about a different blind we had set up on the land where we hunt. I can’t explain it but it was just a feeling that I couldn’t shake. We hadn’t seen him on any cameras around that blind but I felt we just needed to sit in there. Tyler smiled at me and said, “This is your hunt and you can sit wherever you choose.” We marched into the blind and our wait began again. The rain had dissipated slightly but darkness was beginning to creep in when all of a sudden, it happened.

We saw two bucks come out of the bush to the north. Both Tyler and I instantly stiffened up and froze. Then, out he marched!

“Strong, beautiful and breathtaking,” were the thoughts that went through my

mind. It was my buck! He was 120 yards east of us and, to be honest, I was in complete shock. Another buck came out and the three of them began sparring when a fourth came out.

It was the most incredible thing I have ever had the pleasure to watch.

I almost forgot about the rifle sitting next to me. I was lost in complete amazement until Tyler caught my attention. I quickly set up the rifle and began searching for him through the scope. Light was fading and they were all sparring and moving in circles. My eyes found him, locked on and never left him. However, all the activity made it tough to get a clear shot so I waited. I was focused, and knew I would get my opportunity to make the shot. All of a sudden he turned broadside to me as he locked horns with another young buck! I didn’t need any motivation, and quickly took the shot! We heard a hit and instantly I was shocked at how violently I was shaking, as the adrenaline pumped through my veins like never before.

We hiked back out to give him time. It was dark by now and still raining. We called Tyler’s dad, Roger, to come help us with the tracking since whatever blood was there may have been

washed away from all the rain. We searched for over two hours with no luck. I started to doubt myself and even wondered if I hit the right buck. My mind was getting the best of me. It was time to call it a night and wait for morning but I was not leaving the field without him. We decided to camp out overnight. I was worried that coyotes and other scavengers would move in and find him before we did so we stayed right there until the morning sun peaked over the horizon.

Once daylight hit, our search began again. We decided to check the strip of field where I had shot him to see if he was somewhere around there before heading north into the bush where he had initially run.

We made our way up the strip very slowly. Almost immediately, I saw something that looked like it didn’t belong. I pointed and asked Tyler, “ Babe, is that an ant hill?’

Tyler looked passed me and replied, “ Jill, ant hills aren’t white, that’s your buck!”

We both ran up to the object that looked out of place. Once almost there, we slowly approached it. Not knowing if it was him or not, I couldn’t look. I closed my eyes and waited while Tyler looked for me.

It was my buck! I have never been so excited in my entire life.

I jumped on Tyler, screaming and yelling with joy! A perfect double lung shot. He was lying there and he was all mine! An

amazing 178 7/8” of beautiful whitetail buck!

I will never forget this hunt. It was my first, and an experience that will last a lifetime. I would not have been able to do it without the man who put so much faith in me, Tyler. Together we make one heck of a team and there will be many more adventures to come. Thank you!

Seth Carlisle with a hard earned spot and stalk mule deer. The wide open country of the Alberta foothills presents a tremendous challenge given the sharp eyesight and big ears these deer deploy to ensure their survival. Seth Carlisle endured many blown stalks over years of hunting and continued to hunt hard through all the ups and downs before getting a 62 yard shot at the velvet beauty.

ALBERTA

OPEN COUNTRY MULE DEER BY: SETH CARLISLE

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was beginning to think that sneaking up on a group of muleys on the wide open foothills was impossible. The 2012 and 2013 bow seasons had resulted in more blown stalks then I care to remember. Both years we had hardly missed a weekend from September till November and every week the hunt would pretty much end the same way, my hunting partner Brad and I standing there watching a buck, or more often bucks bound their way across the rolling foothills. Growing up hunting in Utah, having too many bucks in an area was something I had never come across and still sounds like a good problem to have. But stalk after stalk it proved to be the hurdle we just couldn’t get over. The big boys in the bachelor herd that at times numbered nearly twenty animals, either by luck or strategy always seemed to position themselves in the safest location. With a dozen buddies set round the perimeter they we’re pretty much untouchable. That didn’t stop us from trying

and it was just as much fun as it was frustrating.

September 1st, 2014 marked on the calendar as Labor Day Monday, and more importantly, as the archery opener for Southern Alberta Mule Deer. I’d been practicing for months and was feeling as optimistic and confident as ever with my hand-me-down Mathews bow. The night before we had watched a group of three bucks feed their way out of a willow patch next to a big spring. Three bucks in a group was a welcome change, and seemed a bit more manageable than twenty.

My primary target was a solid four point, good on mass and width and velvet in perfect shape, the other two bucks needed another couple years with one showing great potential with amazing tine length on his narrow frame.

The morning sun was blinding, but brought welcome warmth to the knoll we had taken up glassing from. Across the coulee, the three bucks from the night before slowly fed their way down the ridge till one by one they bedded in a small bowl above the spring. It didn’t look to be the most inviting location, but sometimes the best way to make a stalk out on the foothills is to just start making your way towards the animal and figure out the stalk along the way. Sometimes there will be a slight change in the lay of the land that wasn’t visible from a distance, but will provide just enough cover to close the distance.

The weather forecast had projected strong winds, starting in the morning hours and lasting throughout the day but so far all was quiet, not even a breath of wind to help cover our approach. We worked our way down the coulee and then started slowly up the other side, we had a pretty good idea of where they were bedded but wouldn’t be able to see them until we came over the top of the dip they were in, I could only hope that they would be within shooting distance as there would be no cover from there. Step by step, we got closer to the top, finally standing on tip toes we could see a velvet covered horn.

Problem was we were still at least 80 yards out and if we went any farther we would be out in the open and would be spotted in no time. Our only hope was to find another way. We backed out the way we had come in and started working our way around the knob in hopes of finding a better route. That’s about the time I looked up to lock eyes with the hard horned 4x4, he was now on his feet and staring our direction. We did about the only thing you can do in that situation and that is freeze, we got the stare down for what seemed like an eternity before all the bucks eventually got nervous and our familiar memory of bucks trotting off was realized again.

We decided to check a different area as these bucks were now on high alert. On our way to the next spot the wind really started to pick up, which was a good and bad thing. Wind would provide a welcome cover for any noise or scent we might create but would also seriously limit my ability to hold the bow steady.

We found a good spot and started glassing. We didn’t see a thing so decided to pull out to head back to the house. That’s when a deer stood up in the middle of the crop, it was a buck and a good one! How had missed him! One by one we watched 10 bucks stand up out of that barley field and slowly start moving away from us.

The bucks were nervous but they weren’t spooked, maybe having them up and moving could be a good thing, if we could somehow get out in front of them they might walk right to us. We backed out of sight then jumped out and put our gear together. We looped around the hill and came around where we would be down wind. The bucks were still up and in the field but acting like they might bed back down.

We slid on our backs down through the short grass till we reached the edge of the grain field. We stayed crouched down on the edge of the fence, waiting see what the bucks were going to do. If they bedded back down, a belly crawl through the grain would provide great cover. As if reading our minds the bucks decided the grain wasn’t the safest option anymore and decided to move out. We crawled up the fence line as quick as we could but ended up not being able to cut them off. We were only 80 yards out, but out of cover and with the wind now approaching hurricane force we decided to call it for the day and hope we could get back on them next weekend.

Luckily it was a short week of work and we were back on the hill before the sun came up Saturday morning, this time we scanned the field extra close to make sure we didn’t miss something. There was nothing in the grain field, nothing but cows out in the pasture. Way off in the neighbors hay field where we couldn’t hunt, we spotted a group of deer, a look through the spotting scope confirmed this was our bachelor herd from last week. Now we had a choice to make, it was still early enough we could probably run down to the other area and see if the

three bucks from last week were still around, or we could wait and see what these guys did and pray they came back onto huntable land. The bucks made our decision easy as they turned and fed their way towards us and when the first buck jumped over the barbed wire fence the hunt was on again! I grabbed my bow and Brad grabbed his gear and we dropped down into the barley, the wind was coming from the west and the plan was to ambush the bucks on their way to their bedding area that we had jumped them out of last week. The dried stalks of grain were nearly waist high and we sounded like a herd of buffalo walking through it but by ducking down we could basically disappear if we needed to. We got set up about forty yards off of where we thought the bucks would come strolling though. We waited as the bucks fed their way up a wide stretch of grass that cut into the grain. It looked like our plan was going to work out perfectly when one of the smaller bucks decided he wanted to bed somewhere else and started working his way to the south which would put him directly downwind of us. We quickly backed out and tried to make it around him but it was too late. As he came over the rise and about half way down our side of the hill he must have smelled us as he started getting nervous and picked up his pace. Now we weren’t sure what to do, a couple of the other bucks had followed him over the top but seeing him get so nervous didn’t want to proceed.

They hadn’t yet got our wind but they knew some-

thing was off so they changed course. We had little choice but to stay put where we were, hunkered down in the tall grain, catching glimpses of the bucks as they circled around us upwind. I could hear footsteps cutting through the dried stalks, one of the smaller 4 points walked by at no more than 20 yards, I ducked even lower as I looked over at Brad who jokingly whispered, “Just shoot him!” He was so close I was tempted, but the bigger bucks were now over the rise and following the same trail as the buck that had just passed us. The two big four points were in the back of the pack, all my attention was focused on these two deer, I knew one was quite a bit bigger than the other, but looking through the grain it was hard to tell which was which. I never noticed another buck trailing by us at twenty yards till Brad whispered, “Don’t Move!” I shifted my eyes to the left and a little buck was onto us. Our luck was running out fast as he slowly turned and started heading back towards the big bucks. Brad sat up just enough to range the

Hamilton Greenwood Photo

four points, “62 yards” he whispered. That was definitely on the edge of my comfort zone but I felt confident I could make it happen. Still hidden under the blanket of grain I drew my bow, I raised up on my knees, settled my 60 yard pin on the big 4x4 who was quartering away and the arrow was gone. I was hoping to hear the THWUMP of the impact, but the only sound was hooves thundering away. “I must have missed” was all that was going through my head when Brad yelled, “He just fell over! You got him!” I never did see him fall but the shot was good and he hadn’t made it very far. I couldn’t believe that after two years of blown stalks and frustrations it had come together so perfectly. I had finally arrowed a beautiful velvet muley.

We quickly found him, took a bunch of pictures and even woke up the family to come share in the excitement. This hunt was a blast, I don’t know if there are many hunts that can come close to the challenge and excitement that comes with chasing a big muley with a bow.

CLUBS BY: TODD BOWES

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Todd Bowes and his son Brogan were pretty excited after Todd arrowed one of the most amazing mule deer taken anywhere in 2014. The pair, from Moose Jaw, Saskatchewan made a plan to target the double dropper after the 2013 season and Todd delivered. The droptines are both right around 12”, and carry an incredible amount of mass.

he 2013 archery mule deer season turned out to be a season to remember. I arrowed a 191 7/8” nontypical mulie with shredded velvet hanging off his horns, a dream for me to say the least. It was mid-September when I tagged out and I was already thinking of the 2014 season. My hunting buddy, Todd Beattie ended the season with his tag in his pocket, but not for a lack of trying!

It was September 30 when I had a phone call from a friend saying there was some nice mule deer bucks where they were harvesting so I picked up the phone and called Todd. We agreed we better get out there and check it out before we went spotting for bull moose that evening.

We arrived at the destination and pulled up to our friends combine.

After a short conversation with him and his hired man, we were on our way. His hired man told me the one buck had velvet hanging down which I thought was odd to say the least. We drove along a gravel road to see if we could spot them and within minutes we found them. There were three mulie bucks together and one I noticed right away had what looked like huge drop tines. I put up my vortex binos and couldn't believe what I was looking at! It was a buck with huge double drop tines and I immediately told Todd, “This is the buck I spotted about 5 years ago in the area but I had never seen him again after that till now.” The buck with ‘hanging velvet’ ended up being double drop tines! He was with two smaller bucks. We were thinking of putting a stalk on him but all three were pretty alert and started walking away. Since they were so nervous already, we decided to go scouting for potential bull moose for opening day tomorrow. I had my canon camera with me and snapped some pics of double droppy. The spotting for bull moose paid off that night as we found a good bull and Todd Beattie put him down opening day with a 42 yd shot!

All winter long my son Brogan talked about double droppy telling me that double droppy was the buck we are going to go for next bow season. The summer of 2014 turned out to be pretty good with Todd Beattie and I both being drawn for mulies close to home. Scouting the area became even more important to try and find “Double droppy”.

Scouting for me really picks up in mid July and I was working the area pretty hard in the evenings, talking to land owners and trying to get a

feel for where this old giant was. Despite my best efforts, we could not find him and had pretty much written off the idea of finding Double Droppy. Then came opening day and we were on our way.

Me, Brogan and Todd were on a road allowance glassing a real nice 180 class mule deer with my vortex spotting scope when Todd said with urgency, "THERE HE IS!" My heart almost dropped through my you know what when I heard that, Todd said "Don't move". I thought to myself, “Why not?” just as Todd continued with, "Double Droppy is right behind the truck." I replied simply, "Are you serious?" Todd answered, "Yep, now turn and look."

I looked over my shoulder to see Double Droppy only about 120 yards directly behind us and Brogan had confirmed it was him. I positioned my spotting scope towards his direction and started recording video through my phone with the adapter on the vortex scope. We instantly became very excited as we had permission on that piece of land but now he and another buck were making their way across the road allowance into a standing canola field and I didn't know who had owned it. As luck would have it, we could hear something coming and within a minute a swather was coming over the horizon towards us. By now the bucks were 200yards away from us and met up with another buck and weren't paying any attention to us at all. The farmer had stopped and got out and we introduced ourselves and had told him where we had permission and asked him if we could hunt these deer in his field of canola. He said, "Go get him", and that they would stay away from that area as long as possible. By now all three bucks were bedded in the canola but you could see tips of antlers. A game plan was discussed to get wind advantage and it was on!

With the wind coming from the northwest and two swathers cutting canola to the south of the bucks, we figured we could walk around the north end of the field and be far enough away from the bucks that our scent wouldn't come into play and at the same time they would focus on the machinery and not us. We were able to walk around the canola and be straight north of the bucks. What we didn't see from the truck was that the farmers had cut canola over the hill the day before so now we were able to get into position closer to them that what we originally thought.

With the wind in our favor now we started walking straight south for

about 200 yards until we could see the tips of their antlers. A quick range had them at 62 yards away.

So now the waiting game began and after about 30 minutes, we started discussing that there's not much use of both us together and one of us should move to a different location, so I told Todd that I would take Brogan and head back north and make a plan from there. When we made it to the north east corner I figured I could go a little west without being detected and if the bucks were to get up and move they would want their nose going into the wind. As we were walking to the west there was a low spot that was really wet and I figured I could get a shot if they stayed on the east side of it. I stood up to see if I could see the bucks at all and I could see two bucks plus the double drop tine heading straight north for that low spot. I quickly split the standing canola and told Brogan to, “Sit down, don't move, don't talk.” As I'm getting myself into position beside him. I hear a whisper asking, "Are they coming Dad ?" I said, "Yes, now get ready cause there not far away!"

I was crouched down on my knees and nocked a gold tip arrow onto my string. The bucks were coming from my left and the first buck was getting closer and looked like he was going to come on the east side of the low wet spot which was perfect.

The first buck walked by perfectly broadside I slowly lifted my range finder and ranged him at exactly 30yds. I looked to my left again to see the double dropper heading in the same direction as the first buck. I told Brogan that the next buck coming is Double Droppy and not to do anything noisy. As he got closer, I wait for him to get perfectly broadside and then draw my HOYT carbon element from my knees. Double Droppy stopped perfect and looked at me, I quickly went through my check list in my head “2nd pin, 30yard pin, bubble between the lines, pin behind the shoulder and 1/2 way in the body.” I realized it was about to happen, and I touched my release and the arrow was on its way but then the moment I had been dreaming about quickly almost turned into a nightmare. Double Droppy had flinched when I released the arrow and I hit him high and dropped him in his tracks.

I quickly grabbed another arrow and sent another it on its way to expire the legend.

As I turned towards Brogan I could see tears of excitement in his eyes and was speechless. We gave each other knuckles and I could see Todd walking to the north and I put my bow and arms up in the air with

a loud cheer. As Todd came up to me there was a high five and we admired the giant on the ground and started talking about what had happened. I ranged the distance from the buck to where I was and it was 25 yards and replayed it through my head. I estimated he was 30yards and then he flinched downwards when I released the arrow resulting in the high shot but in the end it was over quickly. As we were looking over my first full velvet mulie I noticed his teeth were missing and counted them up and only four were left on the bottom! It just amazes us how strong these animals are to survive the previous two winters that he went through. They would have been the toughest in his life. Todd took some field pics of me and Brogan with Double Droppy and then of course I had to call my good friend Rion White of Orion taxidermy in Moose Jaw. We met up with Rion and caped out my mulie for a pedestal mount and skinned him out for processing at my friend Bryce Downey at Hub meats in Moose Jaw. Rion said when we were caping the deer that it was one of the oldest deer he has ever worked on. He figured he was 10yrs old and I'm sending his head away to confirm his age. The old mule deer was definitely on the down side of his life, only weighing in at 135 pounds and with 4 teeth left. I could see his protruding ribs when I was taking video of him through the vortex spotting scope. It was definitely a good buck to take out of population.

This hunt was extra special for me being that my youngest son Brogan was at my side and was able to see firsthand how a

spot and stalk mulie hunt works out. It was also special to share it with my good hunting buddy Todd Beattie. We have been on many hunts together and taken some impressive bucks over years and lots of memorable hunting trips together.

I would like to thank good friend Rion White for always being available on short notice to do incredible work mounting these beautiful animals with incredible detail that lasts a life time. Also, a special thanks to the landowners out there that let us on their land to pursue these awesome animals with our kids and friends, memories are truly made out in the fields.

Photo by Shawn Danychuk

Brothers Browtine

Buck Adventure BY: ZAC GEITH

Zac Geith from Logan, Iowa, with a very unique buck he took in that state in late 2014. The buck has very long curling tines and main beams, and a narrow inside spread which give the deer a unique look. 12” tines are very rare in whitetails , and Zac’s buck has five of them! Both G2’s, both G3’s, and the left brow tine are all over 12” long.

The result is a tremendous gross score of 176 3/8”.

O

n November 22, 2014, I had the opportunity to harvest one of the largest bucks I've ever seen. It was the culmination of years of hard work and patience. For me, the drive to hunt world class whitetails started at a young age. I was introduced to the outdoors by many of my close family members. These individuals have played a large roll in my success in the outdoors.

For more than 20 years as a whitetail hunter, my passion of the outdoors has done nothing but grow stronger.

I feel that I've become a better conservationist as well as a hunter. Over the last few years I have been blessed to harvest several deer grossing over 180 inches. My younger brother, Collin Mann and I have been dappling in filming our hunts for many years. This past summer we had made the decision to purchase a high definition video camera, we picked the Canon Vixia HF G20 and we felt that we were in a good position to document our 2014 season. On November 16th, Collin had the opportunity to harvest a beautiful buck, with me running camera over his shoulder. The big deer grossed 152 3/8”. The stand site was one of our favorites for many reasons but none more so than the fact that it had produced several Pope & Young Bucks over the past few years.

It is from this same stand where my story begins on the day of November 22. It shall be forever be etched in my memory. The morning broke with light fog and no wind.

It was the kind of morning that all bowhunters dream of.

You could hear a pin drop in the woods that morning.

A light blanket of snow laid over the ground and at my side was my brother Collin. As we waited for daylight, the temps were in the low 40s and they were calling for a high of 50 that day. Almost immediately, we knew we were in the right stand. As the dark began to turn to light, a small buck approached the stand. With no intention of shooting this great younger deer, Collin and I proceeded to film him as if we were going to try the shot. This is a technique that helps at getting better usable footage for Victory Outdoors. We also have TACTACAMs mounted on our bows and use them as our second angle camera angle. This allows us the freedom to focus on getting the kill shot with our main camera and still able to capture the actions of the hunter as they happen. This eliminates the need for reenacting those action shots, making for a much better storyline. On that morning we had two TACTACAMs running, one on my bow and one on a limb facing towards me.

As the smaller buck worked away, we decided we had enough camera light to shoot a quick introductions to the days hunt. We had no more than sat down when one of the shooter bucks from the week before was walking straight for us. My mind began to race with a variety of thoughts, “Was he big enough? Will he give me a shot?”

In a scramble, we got all the cameras rolling.

Collin got our main camera locked on the buck and we were able to get some great footage but in the end the buck never presented a shot opportunity. Knowing I was in the later stages of the rut, my hopes of filling my tag on a mature Iowa buck started to fade. We settled back into our stands and I said to Collin, “One of these times it’s going to work out for me, we just have to keep at it.”

No sooner did those words leave my mouth and I spotted movement on a cedar hillside above us. It was clear to me instantly that this was the fully mature deer that I had been waiting for. Without ever getting a good look at his headgear, I saw his massive body size and knew that his headgear would follow suit. I

positioned myself for the shot and got the two cams running. As the buck walked the ridge towards our stand location, I finally got a look at what would shortly become one of my biggest bucks to date. He made his way down the ridge with his mouth wide open huffing the rut crazed air. He worked closer and closer and what took just a little over a minute to unfold, seemed like an eternity. I drew my bow before he cleared the cover of the ridge. He finally stopped, slightly quartering to me at just 15 yards. With the release of the arrow and perfect shot placement, I knew I had filled my Iowa archery tag. The deer mule kicked and took off from the direction he had come. He stopped at 50 yards, with wobbly knees and labored breathing. Again this buck would put me through a ringer of emotions, as he stood for just a few seconds but to me it seemed like forever.

Soon he bedded down just out of our sight. Collin and I both decided to stay in the stand for two hours just to be sure. The very last thing we wanted to have happen was for us to spook a wounded deer. As I sat there, I remembered all the little things that have happened over the years. I realized how truly blessed I was to get an opportunity like this. Being able to share it with my brother Collin and because we has captured it all on film, I would be able to share this moment with many others. Finally, we climbed down from the stand to start the tracking job. From the base of the tree we could see the buck laying where we had last seen him and we would follow the blood trail to him without incident. The video of my hunt was edited by the owner of Victory Outdoors and was aired only two days later on victoryoutdoor.tv, to date is the most viewed video ever produced by Victory Outdoors!

Hamilton Greenwood Photo

Chronic wasting disease: Should we be concerned?

Part I of an ongoing series By: Saskatchewan CWD Working Group

C

hronic Wasting Disease (CWD) is a fatal disease that affects the nervous system of deer, elk and moose. Similar to bovine spongiform encephalopathy (BSE) in cattle, also referred to as “Mad Cow Disease”, and scrapie in sheep, the disease is not caused by a virus or bacteria. Rather, the culprit is a mis-folded protein referred to as a ‘prion’. Once ingested, these infectious prions cause similar naturally occurring proteins in the body to also mis-fold, further propagate and accumulate and in time, the misfolded proteins build-up in the brain of the animal, creating microscopic holes and destroying brain cells. All animals infected with CWD, BSE or scrapie die from the disease. There is no treatment for these infections. This and future articles will explore CWD, how the disease came about and its potential impacts to wildlife.

2016 marks 20 years since CWD was first diagnosed on a Saskatchewan game farm, transmitted from infected elk imported from South Dakota years before. It has been fifteen years since CWD was first identified in wild deer in Saskatchewan. How did it find its way into the province and how can anyone be certain that it was not present in the wild all along?

The answers lie, partly, in the manner by which diseases are spread. Unless animals can fly or are transported by vehicle, the distribution of a well-established disease is fairly continuous or connected across the landscape. Large ‘jumps’ in distribution (expansive areas where disease is absent) simply defy the laws of nature. To understand how CWD came to Canada, we need to start at the beginning.

In 1967, at the Foothills Wildlife Research Facility in Fort Collins, Colorado a new disease, CWD, was discovered when captive mule deer became sick and began dying. Prior to this, CWD was unknown. How the infectious CWD prions made their way to the research facility in Fort Collins remains a mys-

tery. However, due to the similarity of CWD with scrapie (both are a form of Transmissible Spongiform Encephalopathy), close proximity of the captive deer facility to scrapie infected sheep, lead many to believe that scrapie provided the probable link to CWD in deer.

After its initial outbreak in Colorado, CWD was trans-located by human activity, such as moving infected animals and/ or their parts long distances to game farms, hunt farms, zoos, translocations of wild cervids, and infected carcasses across North America. Unfortunately, captive facilities are not entirely isolated from the wild. The disease spread beyond the fence line when captive wildlife escaped and when wild cervids intermingled at the fence with their captive counterparts, Introduction of CWD in Saskatchewan was traced to a game farm near Lloydminster, Saskatchewan. The current patchy distribution of the disease across North America and beyond confirms an unnatural spread of the disease. CWD has only been found in North America, and in South Korea where it was introduced by elk that were imported from Saskatchewan.

Once introduced at these new sites, the disease could be spread by wild deer, elk, and even moose. Tracking the movement of CWD across the landscape, from sites of introduction to new areas where CWD was previously absent, provides further clear evidence the disease had recently been introduced.

Unfortunately CWD has now become well established over large tracts of North America.

Initial attempts to eradicate or control the spread of CWD in the wild through herd reduction failed for several reasons including: lack of knowledge of the true geographic extent of the disease, poor understanding of how CWD was transmitted and spread, lack of longterm support for programs, and lack of a coordinated response between agriculture and wildlife interests, to name just a few. Currently, the disease is found in the wild in 20 states and two provinces in North America.

CWD is readily transmitted from animal-to-animal and from soils or environments contaminated with prions shed by infected animals. Prions are shed in urine, saliva, feces and blood of infected deer and are shed

long before animals begin to show signs of disease.

Recent research and epidemiological investigations suggest direct contact between animals is not necessary to spread the disease, as it can also be spread by prion-contaminated feed, environment or shared water sources. When healthy animals come in contact with the bodily fluids of an infected animal or contaminated environment, they too become infected. The reason we do not see a rapid increase in deaths is because it is a slowly developing disease with infected deer taking a year and Chronic wasting disease infected mule deer on the left and similar aged unhalf or more to die. However, once infected, none infected deer on the right. Infected deer gradually become emaciated and die, recover as CWD is always fatal.

Research has revealed the significance of the en- if not removed by predators. This particular infected deer died of CWD several vironment in the spread of this disease, in partic- months after this photo was taken. The radio-collar and ear tag allowed its ular the role that soil plays in transmission. Prions movement and contact with other deer to be monitored over time. shed from infected live animals and from decommanagers are doing about it. posing carcasses can exist in soils for at least four Free CWD testing is available for harvested deer and elk in years but likely longer. Prions bound to clays are held close Saskatchewan.

Hunters are encouraged to drop off heads at to the surface of the soil making them available to other deer. ministry offices.

The results will provide information about Interestingly, these bound prions are actually more infectious (up to 680 times) than unbound forms. In Colorado, mule the distribution of this disease.

The Saskatchewan Wildlife Federation, Saskatchewan Assodeer which inhabited regions of high clay content soils were ciation of Rural Municipalities, Saskatchewan Outfitters Assomore likely to be infected with CWD. A one percent increase ciation, Saskatchewan Bow Hunter’s Association, Agricultural in clay-sized particles increased the odds of infection by about Producers Association of Saskatchewan, Nature Saskatchenine percent. Therefore, soil type will likely be important in wan, and Regina Fish and Game League are working closely managing the disease. with the Government of Saskatchewan to better understand Recent research has demonstrated that these CWD prions can be taken-up into the stems and leaves of plants, and trans- CWD and its impacts to wild cervids in the province.

Similar programs are ongoing in Alberta, with more inforported in dust where they remain infectious. mation available at http://esrd.alberta.ca/fish-wildlife/fishWhile there is little evidence to suggest CWD is transmising-hunting-trapping/hunting-alberta/chronic-wasting-dissible to humans or domestic animals, research in this area is ongoing. However, if we adhere to the belief that CWD origi- ease.aspx. Many jurisdictions across North America are nated from sheep scrapie, of which no case of a human trans- dealing with how best to manage this disease, and it surely to be a major issue across the hunting community in future years. mission has been recorded, CWD may pose no risk at all. On the other hand, recent experience with mad cow disease and the danger it poses to people and other species clearly demonstrates the unpredictability of these prion diseases and points to the importance of further research.

Future issues will explore what this disease may mean for hunters and what wildlife

Despite repeated testing, Montana, Ontario, and Manitoba have found no positive CWD cases in the wild. In Minnesota CWD was identified in a few game farms but in spite of extensive testing only one wild deer has tested positive for CWD and that was in 2010.

Intensive sampling and testing of deer from the area of the positive wild deer has failed to detect any new cases.

NEW

CANADIAN ANTELOPE RECORD BY: Tannis Piotrowski

Tannis Piotrowski with the Canadian Record antelope! She lives in the area she hunts and spends every year watching and learning about these incredible animals. When she drew a tag in her home zone in Alberta, she was ready to work hard and take a good animal. Little did she know it would be the largest pronghorn ever taken in Canada, and likely the largest ever taken by a female hunter in the world! The horns are both well over 18” long, with prongs of 6 4/8” and 6 5/8”. All of it means that her buck has a net typical score of 90” even!

M

y hunt began long before opening day of antelope season in 2013. I was drawn for trophy antelope in 2004 and never filled my tag because of work obligations. I knew I had a very good chance of being drawn again in 2013. My trophy antelope tag was put in for WMU’s 102 and 118, which also just happened to be my back yard. Living in the area, I had every advantage possible to get a good trophy antelope. Living and working in the area meant that I could spend the summer and fall observing antelope behavior. The area holds a strong population of antelope, except in the most severe winters when antelope get pushed out of the area into northern Montana.

The scouting and glassing started months before I even knew I would be drawn. My husband Tim and I would commute from our home to our farm many times a week, observing all types of wildlife. Antelope here are part of the landscape. We initially noticed the specific antelope that I would eventually harvest from a distance. We recognized the shape of his horns, since bucks with similar shape had been taken out of the area in previous years. Even the neighbours would comment that there was a good antelope buck in the area. All summer long we had many sightings of the same antelope. He never ventured far, and always returned to the same area. Every sighting built the excitement!

When it was confirmed that I had drawn a tag, our scouting and glassing kicked into high gear. I knew the extent of his area down to a tee. I had eyes in the field almost daily. His range was in the livestock’s summer grazing pasture, and we noticed him while putting out salt and mineral and checking the cattle. We were part of his territory and he was part of ours.

I knew exactly how many other hunters would be in the area.

Being in the area regularly, we were able to see the amount of traffic in the preseason and chatted with many of them either by telephone or when they were getting permission to access the property. I knew who was willing to use the soles of their hiking boots and who the road hunters were.

The week prior to opening day, my husband was busy moving livestock out of a field in the buck’s territory. He would see him alone in the morning and when we would go out that evening to get a really good look at him, he had disappeared.

We could never locate him in the evening hours, but he would reappear in the morning. This continued right up to the day before opening day. That evening we diligently looked for him and we found him, alone as usual. Trying not to disturb him we put a plan in place for a stalk in the morning.

Opening morning would be an early rise as he was located well off the main road but not out of range of an ambitious hunter. As we snuck into position, we found he was in the exact location we had left him the evening before, and still alone!

I knew the lay of the land at this location from having ridden my horse there. To get a good look, I would have to crawl over a little hill and partially down the other side while being in full view of him while he was grazing. At this point, my husband Tim and I parted company and the crawl began. I was thankful that I had chosen to wear nylon pants that morning which made the crawl that much easier, however they were not cactus proof and I could feel every one. It was a slow decent down the slope, stopping at each slight movement he made. I had now

reached a buffalo wallow at the edge of a large dried up slough.

Once I had my body positioned in the wallow, ninety percent of my body was hidden from his view. I put up the bipod up and positioned the 25-06 Sako rifle with a Leupold scope. I didn’t have access to a range finder but it didn’t matter, I wasn’t getting any closer to him. I adjusted for the 40 km west wind and took aim. It was a 430 yard shot, slightly downhill. At the shot there was no movement, I was confident in my shot and just waited, hoping he would not run off. He crumpled to the ground without taking a step. My guide (husband) returned to my side and we walked across the slough to get a closer look at him. I was excited that I had taken my very first antelope by myself.

It wasn’t until we got to the buck that I knew he was a really good one, thinking probably an 80 plus buck. When my husband was doing the capeing he realized it was a monster that had lived a full adult life. The hairs around the base of his horns were a least 2 inches long. All of a sudden his 16 inch horns jumped to closer to 18 inches. My pronghorn’s official Boone and Crockett score was 90 4/8” gross! The right horn length is 18 2/8 with a 6 5/8 prong. The left horn length of 18 1/8 and prong length of 6 4/8. The final score of 90 net is the largest pronghorn ever taken in the province of Alberta. Re-

cords show that AB and SK’s previous record antelope had the same official score, making my antelope the largest ever taking in Canada! At the current time he is ranked in the top 40 in the world Boone and Crockett. Because Boone and Crockett does not recognize trophies taken by gender, I did my own research and as far as I can tell it is the number one pronghorn antelope in the world taken by a female hunter. It is my belief that this pronghorn was probably born in this area, grew up here and lived a full and long life, and now can remain here in his forever home. I have a beautiful mount done by Top Notch Taxidermy, and they have done outstanding replicas.

His home on the range can be viewed from where he is proudly displayed in my home.

I have shared every one of my hunting experiences with my husband Tim. He introduced me to the sport of hunting and I soon learned that if I wanted to spend some quality time with him I would have to take up hunting. I have turned down some pretty big heads just so I could have another day with him away from work. I would not have shared this hunt with anyone else but him, our knowledge of the pronghorn patterns and the area of my hunt was a huge advantage in making this a very successful hunt.

Whatever Takes! it

By: Jason Spenst

Jason Spenst from Edson, Alberta hunted hard after being drawn for a coveted Alberta mule deer tag in 2012. In fact both he and his brother Kevin were drawn and they were down to the wire when Kevin also tagged a big whitetail to go along with the great mule deer he took on the same trip! Both mule deer had stickers and flyers adding to the character, while Kevin’s whitetail was a typical 6x6 scoring in the mid 160s.

My brother Kevin and I got some great news in the summer of 2012. Both of us got drawn for mule deer in southern Alberta! Immediately, we planned a trip for the second week of November. Our goal was to tag two bucks in the four day hunting week, although we knew the chances were slim, even with draw tags. Our buddy Leon Lee was a ranch manager on a large ranch smack dab in the middle of the zone, and when we received news that he also got us permission to hunt on three other large ranches in the area, we knew our odds had just gone up!

After the long summer wait, we were there and the hunt was on! Our first morning was spent introducing ourselves to the landowners and getting their advice on hunting strategies. After some great advice and a hearty lunch, we headed for the coulees in search of our quarry. The first day was fairly uneventful, with a few deer sightings, and numerous other hunter sighting, but we did not see the deer we came for.

The ranch we stayed at had numerous cabins and catered to hunters, so the first evening was spent talking with fellow hunters. I seemed everyone saw deer but all had the same experience as we did, lots of deer but nothing they wanted to put a draw tag on. The next morning we awoke to extreme cold, biting wind and a white out of snow. Not the southern Alberta weather we thought we would get, but great weather for hunting! Every other hunter we saw that day was glassing from inside their vehicle. We knew what we had to do. We threw on our packs and headed into no man’s land. It didn’t take long before we started seeing rutting activity. It seemed that the poor weather kicked the rut into gear. That evening we saw

a good 175” mule deer buck with numerous does just below us. We got some great footage and nearly froze our butts off after we were pegged down and couldn’t move until they did.

It was a full three hours! The deer was close to what we wanted and we didn’t want him to leave the area in case we decided to come back for him, but on day two we just couldn’t cut a tag.

Day three found us hiking for hours and hours without seeing any deer. We managed to take a coyote and just seconds later spotted a good deer with five points on either side but not quite big enough. After another hour of hiking, Jason spotted a gorgeous, high framed buck bedded in a coulee finger. He had a turned down main beam and a few sticker points and we immediately knew it was the buck we came for! We snuck in, close to the bottom of the coulee, where he lined up for the shot. The distance was only 120 yards, an easy chip shot.

Kevin had the camera ready and gave the call, ‘I’m on him’.

I squeezed the trigger and the shot fell 6” above his back! It didn’t take the deer long to whirl around and leave the country.

I was extremely disappointed in my performance and figured my chance was over. We decided to go back to the lodge for lunch and regroup after my severe case of buck fever!

After lunch we headed to a very large bottom coulee that Leon knew held many deer. It was a few mile walk to get there but we saw numerous deer that tempted us as we walked a finger of the main coulee, finally the horizon opened up to an enormous open bottom. It was a perfect spot to glass, and two potential shooters were spotted within minutes. The first was a large 5x5 with an 8” drop tine coming off the right side.

Before making up my mind, he whirled around chasing a doe

directly away from us. Now we had to concentrate on the deer that was across the coulee.

He was a great 5x5 with numerous kickers and stickers. It was starting to get late and we were making tracks as fast as we could without spooking the deer. With no trees or brush to stalk between us, we were within 338 yards with only 20 minutes of shooting light left. I knew I could make the shot, I grabbed every back pack I could and prepared that best rest I ever had. I once again heard those glorious words, ‘I’m on him’. The deer went broadside and I slowly squeezed the trigger. BANG, down went the deer I had been waiting so long to tag! It didn’t take us long to get over to him and my hands were on the biggest mulie I had ever taken. I couldn’t help but feel for Kevin as I had two chances in one day for world class mule deer as he watched my excitement grow and grow. We quickly field dressed the deer and made plans on how to get him out the next morning. With only one day left, we still needed make the six hour pack out. I told Kevin,

“Whatever it takes, we will get you one as well”. Day four was busy, packing out my buck and hunting hard through the extreme cold all afternoon. At the end of the day, we made the call to come back the next week.

On day one of Kevin’s hunt, we headed straight to the big coulee were I killed mine and the droptine buck called home.

We climbed numerous vantage points, covered many miles and saw some great deer but not the unique deer that Kevin wanted to tag. After I had killed a 190 class deer with ‘junk’, he couldn’t settle for anything less!

Once we hit midday and sat down for lunch our plan was to circle back to the original spot that I shot my buck. Within a few hours of hiking and glassing we were only a few hundred yards from the area where I got my deer. We glassed for a half an hour when we spotted him, the droptine buck that we were after! He was with several does and a few smaller bucks, only 300 yards from where my gut pile still laid. It was a long way across the coulee bottom and we needed to cover over 800 yards with no cover between us. The plan was to hike along

the coulee edge and cross about a half mile down from the deer, then circle back up. After a long hour and a half we were at the bottom of a small knoll that should have put us within shooting distance of the magnificent deer. Kevin got his rifle and rest ready and I started to film the final stages of the stalk.

Once we made it to the top of the knoll, we spotted the deer a few hundred yards away. Kevin took steady aim and waited for the deer to go broadside. I said, ‘anytime you’re ready’. The rifle went off and the deer only took a few short steps before falling over! We looked at each other in amazement. It didn’t take long to make our way to the deer, he was a beauty that later scored in the mid-180’s. Two enjoyable hunts and lifelong memories between us. The rest of the day was dedicated to taking care of the deer and packing him out of the monster coulee. Luckily we could walk up the same trail that we had created when we packed out my deer.

Since we had one full day left before we had to head home and get back to work, we decided to head out for whitetail deer. We had seen some during our mulie hunt and we were never ones to pass up the chance for another opportunity to hunt.

The next morning, we headed into the river valley in search of whitetails. After half the day spent trudging through the snow along the river with little luck, we headed to the truck to bar-b-que some well-deserved deer sausage. Once we finished lunch, back to the river valley we headed and now it was Kevin’s turn to be the hunter for the elusive whitetail. We walked to a large tree to take a rest and decided that it would be a good place to try calling and rattling. Kevin just started his sequence of calls when I spotted a large whitetail buck heading in our direction. He raised his rifle in anticipation and waited for the deer to close the distance. He was 400 yards away, then 300, then 200, and then under 150! He softly whispered, ‘When he stops broadside I’m going to take him’.

After a few more steps, the silence was broken by his 300 ultra mag. The deer darted to the left and we lost sight of him behind the willows. It didn’t take long for us to get on the fresh blood and catch up to him as he only made it 30 yards before piling up! The deer was incredible, a perfect 6x6 that scored in the mid-160’s. I looked at Kevin and his giant grin in astonishment, remembering it was only the day before that he killed the droptine buck. Looking back, I remembered at the end of my hunt saying, ‘Whatever it takes, we will get you one

as well’. I did say ONE, so I guess he can’t count!

The Hunting Chronicles is currently airing their 9th season on WildTV, be sure to check them out at the following air times(central): Monday-4:00pm, Tuesday-8:30am, Wednesday-6:00pm, and Saturday-11:30pm

Bow Brows BY: LINDSAY WILKINSON

Lindsay Wilkinson hunted hard for a smart old buck she had nicknamed ‘Bowbrows’. The deer was a regular on her trail cams for years but seemed to have a knack for not showing up when he was being hunted. She put in dozens and dozens of sits before finally seeing the big deer. It was a fleeting glimpse but she made the shot. With a 19” inside spread, four tines over 10”, and three droptines, the gross score on her buck ended up at 174 3/8”.

Four years of picture after picture, both day and night, the buck we had been chasing, finally made his appearance in mid-day!

My husband Chad and I spend literally hundreds of hours and hours checking trailcameras, scouting fields and taking notes of all the deer activity during the summer and fall.

To give you an indication of the level of dedication, we have spreadsheets tracking our cameras and our sightings. We scroll through tens of thousands of pictures of does, bucks, squirrels, ravens and whatever other critter happens to set off the camera trigger, hoping for anything that will help us in the upcoming season.

On one particular fall day in September in 2012, we were out checking cameras with the hopes, as always, of a new target buck to appear on the screen. As we skip through the does and fawn, and promising young bucks, a GIANT buck exploded on the screen. “YES!! WE HAVE A TARGET BUCK!” We instantly give the buck the nickname “BowBrows” for his very distinctive browtines that appeared to have curves to them. As with most large deer, we only had the one picture of him. We brought in a few more cameras which were not producing, and strategically placed them in ‘our’ new bucks' territory. We had to get another picture of him and figure out his home base.

Days passed by and our patience running thin, we hurried out to check our new set up of cameras. Nothing. No pictures of BowBrows. Lots of pictures young deer which is always a good sign for upcoming years, but not the deer we were hoping to see. Weeks passed by, numerous camera checks and still no sign of ‘our’ deer. I had already made many scenarios run through my head. “Did wolves get him? Did he move to another area? Should we bailout and search somewhere else?” I wondered. Chad reassured me that mature bucks often avoid cameras before the rut but said, “He will come back when he is busy chasing does.” I hoped he was right.

A few weeks later, Chad was checking cameras as I was working. I got a text with a picture of BowBrows and the words “HE'S BACK!” I tried to contain my excitement at work. Five o'clock could not come fast enough! We set up a ground blind and we sat every chance we could get. I even passed on some very nice deer in hopes that he would show up!

The end of November was rolling around and there was no sign of BowBrows. He was still showing up on the cameras, but he was just too wise to step out in our path. We finally had to make the decision to give that spot a break and focus on other areas and other deer. This was the same story year after year.

We now had literally hundreds of hunts under our belt for this

particular buck and not a single sighting! He truly was a smart, old buck and I knew it would be an incredible challenge to take him, if we ever got the chance.

The fall of 2014 arrived, and BowBrows was showing up routinely at our cameras! He was bigger than ever, however he lost his curved browtines, but here was no way we could change his name. We decided to set up a ground blind again and target him for the season. He was, in fact, the biggest deer we had on cams for the past four years.

Since that first day we had ever got pictures of him, our life had changed. We now had two kids so getting out hunting wasn't as easy as it was that first year. We were offered babysitting from our parents and used that time to get out and sit in the blind. When we didn't have a sitter, one of us would sit in the blind and the other would be in the truck a mile away trying to entertain the kids. The hunts piled up, and after days and days of sitting and passing up future monsters, I was hoping that we wouldn't regret those decisions. Then he just stopped showing up on the trail camera. I was devastated, thinking he had either been taken by a hunter or wolves. Then, a week later he finally showed up, but on a different camera more than a mile away!

It was mid-November and the weather was getting colder

was perfect! It was a bitterly cold November day but the sun was shining which I thought, would make for fantastic photos.

Nothing like building up the suspense, thinking so far ahead!

I tiptoed into the blind, the cold biting at my exposed face as I tried to move quietly while wearing four layers of heavy clothing in an attempt to stay somewhat warm. I sat down and set up the tripod and video camera, loaded my rifle and placed it on my rest. I did a couple mock peeks through the scope to make sure I was comfortable with my set up. I texted Chad and thanked him for allowing me to spend so much time in the beautiful surroundings and for being an awesome father. I imagined what he was dealing with right at that moment with two kids under three in the close confines of the truck all afternoon. I put my phone away in my pocket and within minutes a doe and a fawn came walking in. I turned the camera on immediately, as I always do when I see a deer walking in my view. My heart sank a bit with the excitement that they could have easily been my target buck. I sat and watched them nibble tree limbs and do their own natural thing. After 10 minutes, I turned the camera off so the battery wouldn't die in the cold.

After another few minutes, the doe swung her head in the opposite direction of which she had been looking. I knew another deer was on its way in. I've seen it many times before. She was following the deer in the distance as her head moved slowly right to left. Then I realized that the deer she was following would swing around and get downwind of the blind! I thought to myself, “I bet its Bowbrows and he is going to wind me and avoid coming in like he has probably done dozens of times before.” However, then the doe had a reaction that was different than any other time I have witnessed it. She looked very hard at her subject, then lowered her head to the ground and her tail tucked in. “It was a big buck, I know it. I bet he got downwind of her and couldn’t resist coming in” I thought to myself. I flipped the switch on the camera, grabbed my rifle and pointed right where she was standing. She took off in the direction where she had just come from. My heart was pounding in my ears. I looked up, and BowBrows came walking straight in with no hesitation! It was an incredible sight. Clearly, he was the king of the area and carried himself with so much confidence.

I pointed the rifle directly at him, but then he stopped perfectly facing straight at me, smelling where the does had been. He was facing right at me, at 26 yards, so I waited. I was not going to take a marginal shot, even at close range. This was probably a good thing because it gave me a few seconds to calm my breathing down and remember what I needed to do when he did give me a broadside shot. He stood in that same position for

what seemed like hours. In reality it was a minute or two. He jerked his head in the direction of the does and without any warning, spun quickly and took off in the direction he came from.

Luckily, I anticipated this happening and Chad and I discussed this the night before. With the rut in full swing, the bucks would be moving fast! I had my gun on his chest and just before he disappeared into the trees, I pulled the trigger. He ran out of sight as I reloaded my gun and tried to find him in case he was standing still. I couldn't see him anywhere. I fumbled to pull out my cell phone and text Chad. It took me a few seconds to type out “I took a shot at him!” His immediate reply was, “What do you mean at him?!” I said, “The shot felt good but he ran away.” He waited a few minutes to come and check the video, to give the buck some time just in case. He made the trek into where I was, came to the blind and replayed the video clip. It showed him walking in, a couple minutes of him standing directly facing me and then turning and walking away. BOOM! You could see the shot hit him perfectly in the boiler room. We both screamed, “He's hit!” and high fived. It had been at least 20 minutes since I made that shot so we packed up the camera, grabbed the rifle and made our way out to recover the deer.

We followed a path that led us right to where he was laying.

He looked even bigger on the ground! As I walked up to him, I had such a bittersweet feeling. I felt incredibly connected to this animal and thanked him for what he has given us. Our journey together was now over but as a mature deer, he pro-

vided my family with food for the winter and memories I will never forget.

A huge thank you to Chris Garland at Rips Taxidermy for the incredible mount, our parents for giving us the time to do what we love together. Also my two little girls who do a lot of riding in car seats and hanging out in the truck with Daddy while I am in the blind, but they are the reason we do what we do. And of course, my husband Chad, who introduced me to

Photo by Hamilton Greenwood

hunting. I couldn't think of a more meaningful bonding experience than being in the outdoors together. Your hard work makes these moments happen.

Editors note: Lindsay does all of the design and layout work for Big Game Illustrated Magazine and makes producing BGI possible. One of the unique things about BGI is that everyone involved at every step is a hunter.

Dawn Logie from Barrhead, Alberta, poses with a tremendous whitetail she took in that province in 2014. She fulfilled a lifelong dream when she toppled the buck that had a big gross score of 179 3/8�.

BY: DAWN LOGIE

T

he 2014 hunting season started out slow for my brother and me. Between the two of us, we were able to fill our mule buck and mule doe tags within the first couple of weeks, but the whitetail bucks were proving to be elusive and appeared to be almost completely nocturnal. Most of our hunting over the past 20 years has been west of Edmonton, Alberta. It’s been a great area, and we usually are fortunate enough to harvest animals and fill all of our tags, but the 2014 hunting season looked bleak for whitetails.

It was November 16, 2014. We headed out, anticipating a normal hunting day with a balmy temperature to 1 degrees Celcius. Our hunting party decided to spend the morning hunting on a friend’s quarter section, which we had frequented several times this year but had only seen whitetail does and fawns and small spiker bucks. I seconded the root pile in the middle of the field that has been renovated as a hunting blind and my brother and nephew opted for the north end of the same field. The morning brought a three point whitetail buck into close range of my nephew, but he passed on it. He was looking for something bigger and wanted to allow the young buck to grow up.

For the afternoon hunt we decided to split up. Dressed in my lucky Mickey Mouse jacket, I elected to return to the field we were in that morning and set up on the north end of field where my morning hunting partners were sitting earlier. I arrived around 3:00 PM and set up my Outhouse blind along-

side an abandoned swather. The afternoon produced a couple of whitetail does that greeted each other with their ears back as they circled each other, smelled each other’s butts and then commenced sharing some alfalfa. A few minutes later a coyote walked across the field, unaware that I was watching him.

At 4:13 PM, I glanced to my left and peeked through the reel of the swather where I saw a small whitetail doe heading towards me along the brush line. About 200 yards away and 20 yards behind her was a whitetail buck. My heart skipped a beat when I realized this wasn’t just a whitetail buck, but was a great whitetail buck! It felt like my heart was going to pound out of my chest as I watched him walk closer and closer with the rack getting bigger and bigger with each step! The doe continued walking towards me, with the buck in tow. As always, I quickly texted my brother in pure excitement that I had my sights on a BIG whitetail buck. I attempted to stand in my blind to shoot over the front of the swather, but the window in the blind was not high enough to allow me to shoot over the front of the swather. “What am I going to do now?” I thought to myself.

I couldn’t get out of my blind as that would definitely spook the doe and buck away. I quickly sat down as I watched the doe change her course as she started to walk into the open field with the buck following a safe distance behind. Taking a deep breath, I anticipated that the doe’s new course was going to bring both of them into perfect range with a clear view out the front window of my blind! Suddenly, something spooked

the doe and she walked away from my location and back into the bush from which she came. I looked back at the buck and he was staying in place, just to my left about 100 yards away, with the cumbersome front of the swather between us. I was feeling deflated, he was so close! “At least I can get a picture to show my brother this beautiful animal,” I thought. I used my Primo doe call can and kept him interested for a few minutes so I could get a picture with my phone, but then he decided to walk away the same way he came. The buck stopped and turned to the left providing an angled broadside shot. I only had a moment, but I was ready and knew I had to take a shot! Crouching down and setting up my 270 rifle on my tripod, I was able to peek through the tines on the swather reel and get the buck in my cross hairs, a mere 185 yards away.

At the crack of the shot, the buck took two steps. My heart sank, “Did I miss him,” I wondered until I saw his head lean to the left as he dropped to the ground!

Fourteen minutes after the first text I sent to my brother I followed up with another text “yippprerre”. The excitement got the best of my fingers because that was the actual text message! I invited both my brother and nephew to join me in the field. Even though he was about four miles away, I am sure he heard my screams of joy. While waiting for my brother and nephew to arrive, I went back and got my truck, loaded up my hunting blind in the truck and headed over to my deer. When my brother arrived, he asked where my deer was and I told him, “Look to your left.” There was no shrinkage on this deer. We walked over to the deer and the look on my brother’s face was priceless, I am sure it was a mixture of disappointment since he had just been in the same field and same location that morning but I also believe that at that moment he was very proud of his little sister.

That night I called Al’s Taxidermy in Cherhill, Alberta to see if he had time to work on my whitetail buck, as he has done all the other mounts for both my brother and I in the past. Arrangements were made to meet Al Carstairs the next evening.

This is where the story continues to be interesting.

When I arrived, Al took one look into the back of my truck and said, “Yes, that’s him”. Al’s son, Jason had received a picture of my buck and passed it along to Al. Word travels fast! As the story unfolds, Al had trail cam pictures of this buck for the last three years and had just seen him on November 10 on his trail cam. His trail cam location was about ¾ mile from where I harvested the buck. I would like to thank Al’s Taxidermy for doing an awesome job on my deer mount. My only decision now is where to display this work of art.

My 2014 whitetail buck scored 179 3/8 gross;

with 6 points on each side, 5 additional points on the brow tines and one kicker coming off one of the brow tines. My good fortune in harvesting this whitetail buck was merely being in the right place at the right time. Having friends and

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neighbors who graciously grant our little hunting group permission to hunt on their land over the past two decades not only has provided us with wonderful hunting memories, but also has provided us great opportunities to harvest some great animals. To my brother, Allan Clark – a special thank you to you for putting up with me all of these years as your hunting partner. I still think a hat or shirt saying, “My sister got a big rack in 2014” is warranted. I would like to dedicate this article to my late husband Miles, who for 17 years supported me in my love for hunting even when it meant spending a lot of time away from home during Alberta’ s hunting season.

Remember BY: LEVI LEARY

A

Levi Leary of Eureka River, Alberta with a massive mule deer he took with an Alberta draw tag in 2014. Levi’s buck has many characteristics of an old monarch including a huge body, roman nose, and beautiful chocolate brown antlers. The rack carries 41” in mass including a couple mass measurements just under 6”. The long G4’s are both approaching 11” and push the gross score up to 188 2/8”.

fter waiting four years to draw an Alberta antlered mule deer tag, 2014 was finally the year! My buddy Tyrell also drew a mule deer tag. We spent countless hours watching the mule deer in our area for years beforehand which made it that much more exciting. We had a few old warriors, and some tremendous up and comers on the radar. The possibilities were endless.

We scouted hard all summer but a busy fall at work meant that I missed most of archery season and had to concentrate on rifle season. After weeks of frustration, we finally caught a break. My buddy Chris and I headed in to one of our favorite spots and began glassing. We quickly spotted a herd and noticed one exceptional buck! As we watched, we realized it was “Fanny”. He was a buck that we had been watching for the past two years. He got his name because of the way his antlers fanned outwards. He was a well-put together buck with tall tines, good mass and main beams as well as a big body. With legal light disappearing fast, all we could do was watch him walk into the bush with his does that he was not letting out of his sight.

The next morning had me watching the same herd of mule deer again. They were feeding on the field, and “Fanny” was in the group! They were well out of range, but I couldn’t just let them slip out of my hands again so I got ready and made a stalk. The wind was perfect, hitting me straight in the face, with the herd still 400 yards away I kept up the pace closing ground, making sure not to let them catch scent or sight of me. As I got to about 200 yards, I scanned the area to see where the herd was. I was devastated when all I could do was watch Fanny jump the fence onto the next quarter of land, where I did not have permission.

After the disappointment, I pulled back and headed into another spot that always held deer. As soon as I got to the area, antlers caught my attention! I could see a good rack in the binoculars, but quickly grabbed the spotting scope so I would be able to get a little better look at him. I immediately knew he was a good mature deer and planned my stalk! I checked the wind and it had done a 180-degree turn since this morning, but with the approach I wanted to use it was perfect and it was show time again! I used the bush line that

separated the two fields to my advantage and with more than 500 yards to the edge of the field I had some ground to cover. Checking the wind every 50 yards or so to make sure it was still going the right way, I gained ground on them, but needed another 200 yards or so to be within range. I made up some more ground then snuck through the thin bush line to see where the herd was. They were still 350 yards away and they were moving at a good pace to get out of the field! I panicked a bit and stepped out to try and see if the buck I wanted was still there. As I stepped down, my foot landed square on a big stick that made loud crisp CRACK that echoed like we were in a tunnel. I looked up to see the entire herd looking my way and at that moment I knew I was busted. It was game over as the herd high tailed it into the bush.

The evening hunt had me back in the same area. A quick check on Fanny showed he was settled in with some does on the No Hunting land, so I headed back to the same spot where I spooked the deer earlier in the day. I did my best to sneak quietly into the same spot, when two does came out of nowhere, and promptly blew and stomped at me, twitching their ears then they were off and running! Then right behind them the rest of the herd ran by, including the buck I was after! I could see a heavy beam with dark chocolaty ant-

lers and tall tines, but did not take the shot. I was encouraged by the close encounter, but also feeling the pressure because I only had one morning left to hunt before I went back to work for two weeks! It was an easy decision, and I was going to be back after the same buck in the morning.

It was a sleepless night as I couldn’t shake the image of the big deer running away from me. The next morning I was in position early, and very quietly. I was not going to spook the herd again. As the sun peeked over the horizon, it revealed the field to me. A scan with my binoculars revealed…nothing!

One lone doe tiptoed along the edge of the field but nothing else. After a short sit, I gave up hope and I headed for the truck.

As I made my way back, I started up a small roll in the field.

When I was almost to the top I noticed antler tips lying in the bottom of the next rolling hill! A quick stalk ad I was within range! I pulled out my binoculars, and peaked over the hill to see a nice crab clawed 4x4 with a big body. However, I determined he was young and had a few years to grow. My hunt was over and I would have to wait two weeks until I finished my next shift at work to try again.

It seemed like the two week passed by like molasses in January. The anticipation made it drag on forever. I was anxiously waiting till I was able to get home and get hunting again. With four days left of my shift, I got a text from Chris, “Dad just got a shot at a big mulie, pretty sure he missed though but not a 100% sure”. I knew the area where they were hunting and was sure it was the buck I was after. They were unable to find the buck and determined it was a clean miss! This made me even more anxious to get home, as I knew the buck was moving and visible, but still unharmed.

The day came to go home and I was out and on the road early, quickly stopping in High Level to pick some things up. With four hours ahead of me, all I could think about was the buck I was after. As I drove home, I felt worse and worse

and ended up getting hit with a fever that had me down for a couple days! A couple slow days of hunting later, I took some time to visit with friends and family. With Chris heading north into the Chinchaga to do some guiding and Tyrell working, I was hunting by myself, but had a feeling it was my time.

November 7th had me up and headed out.

The weather was cold, great for hunting, and I decided to check a couple whitetail spots. I had no luck, so headed back to ‘the spot’ where I had previous encounters with the big chocolate antlered buck. I quickly spotted the herd and grabbed the spotting scope. Getting it setup, I took a good look. Immediately, I noticed many sets of antlers! I was like a kid in the candy store waving the spotting scope back and forth, trying to study each buck to see what he had for headgear. Finally, I spotted the buck I had been pursuing for the last month. They were in a perfect spot that would allow me to get within 150 yards of them if I played my cards right! I had to head around a small bluff of trees so began the stalk. Checking the wind as I went, I found myself 10 yards from the last corner. I knew once I got there, I could see the herd and they should have been in range! As I peaked around the corner, the herd was still there, grazing away, I found the perfect rest for my rifle making sure that the shot was clean. There were so many deer, and they were all moving, that I had to wait for the buck to clear the other deer.

After a few minutes, he began tailing a doe and I knew a short opportunity was going to come. Raising my rifle, I jacked the lever ahead to put a round in the chamber, bringing it to a rest

on the branch that would steady my shot. He was quartering away slightly at about 100 yards. Settling in on that sweet spot I took a deep breath, put my finger on the trigger, and squeezed.

The rifle barked and the sound rang across the field with the cold weather carrying it. A loud “thud” put a smile on my face.

Just as I squeezed the trigger, he slowly moved ahead, making the bullet hit a little further back then I wanted it to but it was still a pretty good shot. The herd ran off, as my target buck fell in the field! The hunt for my 2014 mule deer was over, and I was beyond happy with the way everything worked out.

With the buck down it was time to make the walk up to him and put my hands on the antlers that I had been chasing for a month. As I walked up to him, so may thoughts ran through my head. “Did I take the right deer? Was he as old as I thought he was? I hope he spread his genes around.” Getting closer, words couldn’t explain what I was thinking. Clearly, the deer was everything I had thought he was; finally grabbing the antlers I was in awe. Getting to finally be able to see them up close was what I waited for, the mass was now put into perspective and was more than I expected and carrying it through right to the main beam. The dark chocolate colour was unbeatable, and the extra points added more character to the antlers. His face showed his age with the rounded roman nose; grey colour and a giant body of an old deer.

Later that season, Tyrell anchored Fanny which rounded out an incredible season! Nothing could beat it. There is something special about being able to hunt with family and friends, sharing the experience of the hunt and the memories that will last for years to come. This was truly a season to remember.

JUMBO BY: ADAM DEUTSCHER

W

hen I think about bowhunting, the first thing that comes to mind is elk. A screaming bull elk on a cool morning is truly what dreams are made of. The next thing that comes to mind is endurance, day in day out, consistent endurance. “How many times can you keep pummeling miles with three hours of sleep before you quit,” is a questions I have asked myself often.

Last year was no exception. It was a hard winter around home and finding a legal bull was difficult.

In fact, I think I only saw two the whole season, but those two were hogs. Their voices easily separated from the rest, but connecting the dots and putting these guys within bow range was not so easy.

September 1. I had 21 days before flying back to work and I wasted no time getting into the bush.

The bulls were vocal early which is a good sign. I got into elk quick, the first encounter I had was with a nice bull, but just shy of being legal. He was with a cow and I had ambushed them perfectly on an edge of a clearing at 30 yards. I was feeling pretty confident. The next few days were spent learning the area a bit more and getting my GPS coordinates set up to start developing movement pattern on the herd.

September 5. Several encounters with young bulls were starting to get confusing. “Where were the mature bulls,” I wondered. That morning, after getting into position and waiting in the dark, I heard a bugle. It was a long way off, but in the opposite direction I expected to hear elk. He sounded good. That raspy, deep, angry, growling bugle you hope to hear. I scrambled back and made my way toward the bull with his harem a few miles into the tamarack. I got as close as I thought I could without bumping an elk and I stopped and just listened for any noise to point me in the right direction to where the herd was moving. A loud crack to my left notified me they were very close, I tip-toed closer on an old seismic line and the bull bugled again. I

BY: ADAM DEUTSCHER

Adam Deutscher is all smiles after finally closing the deal on a big Alberta bull he nicknamed ‘Jumbo’. Adam hunted for this specific bull for 20 days and, after a few close calls, he was on his very last day to hunt when he got an arrow into the bull. The most striking feature of Jumbo is that he is more than 55” wide!

saw a glimpse up ahead, I froze and kneeled down. He stepped out onto the line and looked both ways. I felt my heart rate spike, he was wide, incredibly wide and a definite shooter! After the herd moved off, I marked the spot they crossed the line and went back to the truck. On the way back all I could think of was how oddly wide this bull was, very uncharacteristic for this area. After the morning debriefing with my hunting partner, he was suitably dubbed ‘Jumbo’.

September 10. The coffee and red bull was going down much too easy now. The thought of sleeping in was starting to be very sweet. Pale in the face, bags under the eyes I went out after him. Jumbo was smart, he was never using the same exit or entrance points more than once. The only thing he was doing that was consistent was feeding in the same spot at night.

Every day, if I wanted to have a chance I would have to pick a direction which I thought he may go and be there in the dark to get ahead of them. This morning it would work! I heard jumbo screaming and then crashing in my direction. I saw the cows coming in a very spread out formation. They were off to my right and left, I was kneeling below the junglish ferns and the cows passed without any sign of alert. Jumbo, of course was 60 yards farther away pushing the cows toward his designated bedding area. After passing out of range I ran to where he had been and let out a few lost cow mews. He answered right away and came running back, looking for this straggler cow. He was within steps of me when I drew and released in the same motion it seemed. The arrow didn't make it two feet before hitting a willow and fluttering straight up into thin air. The bull saw, heard and smelled me all at once. He bolted and never made a sound afterwards. Disgust settled in. He now knew I was there, which made the hunt that much more difficult.

September 20. Jumbo hadn’t made a peep since that blow up. I knew he was there since the young bulls were always alone, without cows. At this point, I was considering leaving and heading to a different location where I knew other bulls were that didn't know I existed. The next morning I decided to get up at 2am and head close to the feeding area in the dark and just listen, maybe he would make noise. A quick stop at

Husky for a case of red bull and I was on my way. At 5am, the plan worked and I heard his unmistakable sound. But he was already back to where I expected them to bed. Jumbo wasn't taking any chances, he knew I was there.

September 22. Lying in bed at 4am I thought, “Should I even bother? I have to fly out the next morning for work, I should just sleep and be ready for work the next day.” I convinced myself and then 10 minutes later my phone rings and I recognized my Dad's voice. "Where are you going?" He said.

"Well I was just gonna sleep in and get some rest for work tomorrow," I replied.

"You wuss cookie, I thought you were an elk hunter? Elk hunters don't quit!" was his response and I knew he was right.

That was enough motivation for me. After all, what are dads for right?

I would be late getting to where I needed to be if I was going to have a chance, so I grabbed my bike and raced up the hill.

At 5am I was two miles deep and Jumbo revealed his location!

He was off the feeding meadows but not by much. “I am ahead of him but just barely!” I remember thinking. The wind was dicey, as usual, so I decided to take a chance and get to that meadow, which was the furthest waypoint I had but would give me the right wind. A bit of luck always helps and it paid off. The cows came right to the meadow, but on queue Jumbo let out a series of bizarre bugles that puzzled even the cows.

They immediately turned around and started skirting the border of the clearing. I backed into the willows to cut them off, noticing Jumbo was closest to the clearing, pushing them away from me. I drew as he came through a wall of tangled twigs, I mewed loudly and he stopped and bugled at same moment my Easton arrow flew threw his chest! He jumped, confused and lunged ahead a few steps looking around. I hit him mid body and he saw me as I knocked another arrow. He bolted off before I could fling another arrow, I could hear the herd crashing but then silence. Seconds passed and then a large crash followed by the herd blasting off. I was uncertain and a little puzzled by what I heard. The loud crack had occurred approximately 400 yards southeast of me. “Was it him falling?” I wondered.

After waiting the accustomed 30-45 mins before quietly pursuing via blood trail, I made my way to where the bull was standing. No arrow, no blood. I found the track where he had bolted off, still no blood. After 60 yards of careful tracking I found a few drops, but nothing more. The bulls track quickly

mixed with the whole herds and nothing made sense. In this jungle-style bush everything is blended and keeping your bearings is a challenge, those doubt filled thoughts crept in and the mental battle started. An hour passed and I decided to go back to the start. With my GPS I entered the point and shoot option and entered a waypoint 425 yards toward that loud crack. I bush wacked following the GPS as close as I could. It led me to a spruce ridge where I found the bull’s running track and began slowly trailing, I took 20 more steps and I spotted long, frosty tips protruding from the tall weeds.

It's a sight you have to double take when you catch the first glimpse. After weeks of chasing and dreaming, it truly does seem surreal. Jumbo was done, he was literally a few yards from the waypoint I had entered at the start. He was 55� wide and extremely impressive to look at! I spent the first 15 minutes sitting beside him reflecting. It doesn't seem real and emotion over comes you, blessed and humbled, a deep respect and love for these animals grows with each season that passes. The first call was to my Dad. He would be glad to hear that his motivational speech helped push me to success.

PERSPECTIVE BY: KAARE GUNDERSON

“A particular attitude toward or way of thinking regarding something, a point of view.” That’s the meaning of the word, according to Google anyways, and it is indeed what I am doing my very best to keep, despite a very unsuccessful summer search for a glorious old whitetail buck to hunt. “Perspective”, that is the word.

To this point nearing the tail end of August, that search has been extremely uneventful. It would not even be a stretch to admit that it has been plain old bad. In mid-July I was able to view some photos of a buck I had captured on my trail camera that had me feeling optimistic. It was one of the rare days I had even been around in the summer to actually go and change batteries and cards. He was standing over a salt block, exactly like every other big summer buck whose snapshot I’ve taken in the summer over the last bunch of years had been. There were five photos of him but in the most recent 6-7 weeks, there have been none. Saying that I had one on the radar to hunt would be a long ways from the truth, for now, “I’ve got nothing.” But I am keeping it in perspective. It’s not even September as I write this and there is a whole lot of deer season left.

“What’s the plan for tonight?” “Deer drive, like the old days.” That was the text message exchange between my wife and I one late August evening when her and our kids were away rounding out the very end of what had been a whirlwind of a summer. Oddly and somewhat sadly, it was the very first deer drive I had made all summer. I’ve even written in the pages of this very publication about the importance of summer scouting if you wish to rely on more than luck when the season is in progress. More than one great buck on my wall has first been located from the driver’s seat window of my truck during the summer months.

That late evening summer backroads cruise has led me to the Promised Land before, yet I had not found the moment to do so and summer was pretty much already gone. I had been running cameras over salt for the entire summer scouting, but that was it. Yet I vowed to keep it in perspective.

The tides of change it seem have swept through the summers of my life the past couple years as my boys have gotten older.

It just seems simply that more time has been spent away from home and the grounds in which I pursue whitetails on. Everything outside of some trail cameras has gotten placed on the backburner while other adventures ensued.

Those adventures are the things that keep the fact that I am basically going into the season blind, in perspective. They do, quite simply, because they were enjoyable to say the least. Simply put, I had a great summer of fishing, travelling and spending time with family and friends and not having a monster buck on the radar takes nothing away from it. There have been years in my life where it would have but maybe in those earlier years it was I that was wrong, in not being able to keep things in perspective.

There were many times during the summer where I was reminded about keeping things in perspective, even if inadvertently. One such time was in early August in my hometown of Kyle. I was there to play ball with friends and mixed into some non-meaningful beer gardens discussion with my buddies was some hunting discussion with other people. I discussed BGI magazine, I looked at monster mule deer and pig whitetails on a smartphone belonging to someone else and I had much good old fashioned hunting B.S. discussion. De-

spite the fact that I still had not done that deer drive I had spoken of earlier, I was talking deer and living vicariously in the moment through others who had been fortunate enough to do what I had not this summer, find a giant buck to hunt, or more than one. I wish them much luck this fall.

Sandwiched between that weekend and a family trip out to Jasper was a weekend I would spend visiting an old friend at Little Fishing Lake, Saskatchewan. Each August I make the one hour pilgrimage over there to visit my friend Kim at his family cabin while he is on vacation from his job that has taken him overseas and to England. While there, mixed in with Kim and his cousin Tim teaching my one son to waterski and taking the other for a tube ride, was an opportunity to become better acquainted with his nephews William and James Perin of Maple Creek, Saskatchewan. Again I was able to spend much time talking hunting with their dad Justin, this time around a campfire, under a tarp, in the rain. I once again looked at smartphone photos of fish and deer the trio had brought home. It was refreshing to see the two young sportsmen, wise beyond their years, and their love of all things out of doors. I hope one day they decide to share some of their pursuits in this very magazine. I know William has a draw mule deer tag and they have their eye on a good one. I don’t but they do, I’m excited and happy for them. Being around a couple youngsters so enamored with the outdoors made it easy to forget about that deer drive I was yet to make. It could wait.

And wait it did until the night my wife and I exchanged the text message I spoke of earlier. I had stated, “Like the old days.”

In the old days, before kids, or before they were too big to be involved in much more than throwing rocks, eating dirt and being pushed in a swing, I was regularly wearing the rubber

from my tires on the grids near home. Why? Because it works when it comes to finding deer.

So I decided that late August evening to take that deer drive.

I tried my old route but it was not overly productive. When alfalfa stands become old and die out it appears the deer have died out too. They haven’t they’ve just moved on, which I did too.

I took my own little roadshow elsewhere. I toured past combines gobbling up pea crops. The deer would show there at night I was sure, gobbling up leftovers. I sped by acres upon acres of ripe canola, a dead zone when ripe, unlike when they are nice and green and in full flower and the deer are living right in them. By dark and roughly 40 miles later I had seen two deer, both does. It was a far cry from the bounty of bachelor group monsters I had envisioned.

But unlike I would have done in the old days. I did not worry about it in the least. I would feel no stress that I feel completely clueless this year regarding where a shooter buck may be living because that would go against the reason I hunt, for the enjoyment. I know I haven’t always been so easy going but I’ve learned, or am learning, to keep it in perspective.

I may or may not find a buck to hunt this year. I do however, still like my chances. I feel I have a good idea as to where and how I may eventually find my needle in the haystack but if I do not, it is only a deer and a deer season. A small facet of one’s life and not life itself. If I fail, then I will keep it in perspective and that perspective is, “it’s all good,” because it is all good. I’ll do the same if I succeed.

Whatever happens with your season, I hope it’s all good too, just keep it in perspective.

Derek Muche of Waukee, Iowa took a great 7 x 6 buck in 2014. As soon as he captured his first trail camera picture, Derek knew this was the buck he wanted to hunt. The buck was clearly mature and carried a heavy, tall rack. Derek’s buck sported two tines that pushed 12”, matching 25” beams and a gross score of 164 2/8”. Lea Muche photos.

I

t all began one day in mid-October, when I swapped SD cards in my trail cameras on a farm in southern Iowa. There was a particular buck that had showed up that caught my eye. He was a beautiful mature deer that looked to be the dominant buck of the farm. My uncle Troy and I, decided to name him “Philly” after the Philadelphia 76ers due to his typical 7 by 6 rack.

My uncle Troy Muche from Wisconsin drew his Iowa bow tag so we planned on hunting the farm together. It was a tough decision, but in order to maximize our chances, we agreed on not hunting it until November. We started our rut hunt on November 1st. The first couple days were a bit slow, but the afternoon of November 3rd things picked up. This was the first time we saw Philly, and he was one impressive animal! Troy went to a treestand located down in a creek bottom. The wind was perfect, but he quickly noticed the tree stand wasn’t. It was a hang-on that had been used in previous years and he noticed it had developed a small squeak since we hung it earlier in the year. So he decided to get down and stand behind a big oak tree just up the ridge from the stand. He had a nice vantage point looking

PHILLY BY: DEREK MUCHE

to the trail that pinched between the creek and the ridge.

About an hour before dark, Troy looked across the creek and his heart skipped a beat as Philly was heading his way! As the buck disappeared down into the creek, Troy was hopeful that he would cross the creek and hit the trail. If he did, then no matter which way he opted to go, he would present him with a perfect 15 yard shot. Instead, Philly crossed the creek and the trail and proceeded right up the ridge towards Troy. Trying to stay hidden behind the tree, Troy drew his bow and Philly continued straight up the hill at him. When he got to about three yards, Troy slowly peeked around the tree, put the pin on the front of his chest, and released. The buck lunged forward and literally passed by within an arm’s reach! Troy was sure that the arrow was buried deep into the arm pit and nearly all the way up to the fletching.

We gave the buck a few hours and decided to go check for blood as there was rain forecasted for that night. We found trace amounts of blood for 200 yards before the rain set in. It looked like he was headed back to his bedroom. We left the woods that night hopeful we would find him the next morning. Knowing the blood would be washed away, we were going to have to comb the farm.

The next morning, we got up and headed out looking. Three

fearing the worst; fairly certain our number one target buck hadn’t made it. Philly was nowhere to be seen. He was the only buck on the farm that I wanted to take. There were plenty of other bucks, but they needed another year or more to grow. I felt like my season was about over and the only chance I would have to harvest a good deer is if a new buck moved onto the

farm. That’s just what happened on the afternoon of November 20th . I had a 150 inch 12 pointer I had never seen before. He gave me an opportunity and I took it! My 2014 bow season was complete.

Fast forward to mid-December. I still had cameras out and I wanted to know what bucks had made it through the two shotgun seasons, or if any other big deer had moved in, so I went and checked them. Not far into the pics, there he was, it was PHILLY! He was on camera on November 22nd at 2:15pm.

Just two days after I filled my bow tag. By then I had lost all hope that Philly had survived, but he was back and looked healthy as ever. I quickly let Troy know he was alive and well as we shared in the relief of knowing he made it. I had a late

hours into our search Troy and I were on a ridge top 20 yards apart when we looked down the ridge and saw him. As we expected, he was in his bedroom, but he wasn’t dead. In fact, he didn’t even appear to be hurt, as he was chasing two does and rutting like crazy. They quickly noticed us and fled the area.

Troy and I were stunned! He was still alive and looked very healthy, like he had never been touched. What a tough animal!

We continued on with our hunt for Philly, crawling back up into our sets that evening. The rest of the week brought no signs of Philly. Troy left for home at the end of that week with an unfilled tag, but many great days afield and memories he won’t soon forget. I continued to hunt hard almost every day, only returning to work for a couple days.

By mid-November, my patience was dwindling and I was

season muzzleloader tag and my target buck was back! To say I was excited again was an understatement.

The late muzzleloader season began on December 21st but I wasn’t able to hunt until the afternoons of December 23rd and 26th with no sightings of Philly. December 27th I was all settled in three hours before dark. My set-up was a treestand on one of the highest points of the farm. The wind was perfect, but it was chilly. I was looking down into a clearing in the timber that I thought the deer would have to cross on their way from bed to the destination field which was a picked cornfield on the neighbors.

With two hours left before legal shooting time was up, the deer started to move. I saw seven bucks and 15 does within the next half hour.

And then there was nothing. No deer movement for the following hour. I figured they had all moved early and my night was over.

With only 20 minutes of shooting time left, I caught sight of antlers down in the ditch where all the other deer had come from. I raised my binoculars and saw the unmistakable outline of Philly’s antlers! He was in some thick cover at 100 yards. The buck I had been waiting to meet all fall was coming my way! He headed up the hill into the clearing, on his way to the picked cornfield. When he got to about 60 yards, I put the crosshairs on his shoulder and slowly squeezed. The

wind helped the smoke clear pretty quickly and I watched him run 40 yards and tip over!

After sitting in the stand another 15 minutes, thanking the good Lord above and just soaking it all in, I got down and headed over to him. I was so grateful to be standing over such a beautiful animal. All the hard work, planning and countless hours in the field were instantly worth it. It was my first successful muzzleloader hunt and one I will never forget.

Everything Outdoors

...with Kevin Wilson

The Almighty Score Scoring antlers, horns, and skulls can be a ton of fun. For some it’s a passion; for others it’s an obsession - sadly even to the extent of breaking the law.

“What did it score?”

Today, these may well be the four most commonly spoken words in every big game hunter’s vocabulary. Consider the evolution in our hunting culture in recent decades, and there’s a lot more to this seemingly benign question than first meets the eye.

A simple descriptor by definition, the bottom line score has become much more than a basic measuring tool.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m guilty of it too. In fact I’ve spent most of my life obsessing over the almighty score. Few things get me more cranked up than a gigantic rack! Whitetails measuring over 190 inches on the Boone & Crockett scale, elk topping the 375 inch mark, and just about any record book contender of any species, is simply a sight to behold. But one has to ask, is this addiction to score really a good thing?

First a Reality Check A measuring tool designed to quantify trophy quality, the almighty score has unfortunately taken on a life of its own in the 21st century. Looking back, I’m sure neither Theodore Roosevelt nor George Bird Grinnell, founders of North America’s oldest wildlife conservation organization – the Boone & Crockett Club (B&C) - could have ever imagined, back in 1887, the global significance of their club’s first big game scoring and data collection system. Initially designed to objectively measure and evaluate species and population health and habitat quality to improve state and federal wildlife policies and management in the U.S., scoring has since become much more than that! While objectivity is supposed to be paramount, we’ve seen many instances

where politics, technicalities, and agendas have played into the scoring game – particularly as it pertains to potential world-record contenders.

Over time, other conservation groups like the Pope & Young Club (for game taken with a bow and arrow) and Longhunter (for muzzleloader) have adopted B&C’s scoring system that recognizes both a gross total measurement in inches including circumferences and spreads, as well as a net score that subtracts abnormalities or discrepancies between the right and left antlers or horns, along with circumference measurements. In a similar manner Safari Club International (SCI) has come up with its own scoring and record system for all big game species world-wide.

Similar to other scoring clubs, SCI members in good standing who take a trophy-class animal anywhere in the world can have their animal scored through the SCI system. If the measurement meets minimum requirements, they may be eligible to enter it into the record book.

Despite widespread acceptance, for many years hunters have questioned the B&C scoring system, arguing that by penalizing an animal for irregularities or inconsistencies, it detracts from what that animal really is. As far as whitetail deer are concerned, in response, many years ago the American-based Buckmasters organization took it upon themselves to create their own scoring system as well; a measurement process that acknowledges a whitetail deer for every inch of its antlers, thereby giving it as much score credit as possible.

Wholesale Paradigm Shift

Times have definitely changed. Not that long ago we hunted primarily to secure food. Hunting was a means of survival, and it sustained life. Historically, taking a male of any species sporting gigantic antlers, horns, or a large skull, was deemed to be more of an opportunistic bonus than a primary goal. In recent decades With the Boone & Crockett that’s all changed. Today, many huntscoring system, there are caters target only the biggest of the big. egories for both typical and By comparison, with the accessibility non-typical antlers. Some of commercial grocery stores, for believe that antlers should be credited for every inch of most of society hunting has become growth, while others believe redundant. Even still, for those of us that irregularities or discrepwho choose to carry forward our ancies between the left and most cherished heritage activity, it is right antlers should result mainly a recreational pursuit. Cerin deductions from the gross tainly there are exceptions, but espescore to get a final net score. cially among the most hardcore

For mountain hunters, high scoring rams scoring over 170 inches are a dream come true.

of hunters, the paradigm has shifted.

Most of us hunt to fill our freezer, but for many this has become a bi-product. A significant percentage of contemporary hunters purchase a license with full intentions to target only the largest of trophies. Antler, horn, or skull-size becomes their primary focus and the meat is now the secondary bonus. This may be difficult for some hunters to accept, especially as we continue to be under the microscope of so many anti-watchdog groups, but there’s no point in denying it.

Ego Boosting

tion to see who can take the animal with the highest score can create both a bond and a division among us. While measuring our trophies and comparing them in social circles is just plain fun, there is an undeniable dark side to the scoring game. It’s no secret that the hunting culture is rife with egos. The guy or gal taking the biggest of the big gets bragging rights, for at least the next year. Take a new world record and, well that’s a totally different story. Relative fame and sometimes even fortunate comes to those who take the biggest of the big that in turn gain notoriety as world record specimens. Jealously is rampant and sadly, only those with good ethics stay the course and play by the rules.

The almighty score does strange things to some people.

Human nature is what it is, and some find the temptation too great. Willing to do whatever it takes to claim that they have taken a high scoring specimen – even if it is unlawful – too often a poacher is born. For some, that desire to take bigger and bigger pushes them over the edge and, in turn, they end up doing whatever it takes. When the almighty score causes an otherwise law-abiding hunter to go to extraordinary unlawful measures to take an animal, they then become poachers and can no longer claim unwritten membership to the fraternity of ethical hunters.

Why We Hunt We all hunt for different reasons - many for food, others for camaraderie. Some of us just like to escape our hectic lives.

More and more though, a lot of us are becoming committed trophy hunters with the almighty score becoming the end goal.

In my view there is nothing wrong with being a trophy hunter as long as it is not to the exclusion of valuing, properly caring for, and consuming the meat. High scoring antlers or horns along with a freezer full of meat … can’t think of anything better! In the end though, we all have to ask ourselves, has the almighty score overshadowed our true love of the hunt and everything that goes with it?

How often have you seen a fellow hunter strut around like he or she is something special after taking high-scoring animal?

Furthermore, how many of us pay homage to those hunters, thereby stroking their egos? The truth is high scoring animals are taken as a result of a few different things. Either the hunter has done their homework both before and during the season, they have some level of skill, or they just got lucky. More often than not, it’s really just a matter of luck. Sometimes it’s a combination of all three. But in the end, if a hunter is able to ethically and lawfully tag high scoring animals on a routine basis, they are probably doing something right.

No doubt, a lot of hunters are to at least some extent ego driven. Before you go writing letters to the editor on this statement, allow me to explain.

I would be hard pressed not to acknowledge that most hunters love the attention they get when they tag a big buck or bull. And, to some extent, it is well deserved. Our desire to hunt is part of who we are as humans and having the opportunity to share our prowess and more often than not, good fortune with our peers is an innate instinct. The scoring game is an integral part of this and the measurement of antlers, horns, and skulls provides the quantifiable inSome skill, a great deal of perseverformation necessary to compare amongst ourselves. ance, and a lot of luck go into hunts that culminate in the taking of a Good or Bad? high-scoring record-class animal.

Among big game hunters, the ongoing competi-

The

Future of

Hunting Owen Ross

Maggie Ballek

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Taylor Leidl Mac Fingerhut

Ryker Kelly

Jordan Parker

Carson Kirzinger Mckenzie Neufeld

Landon & Miranda Farell Brayden Atkinson

Austin Hanslip Tucker Ross

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BY: SHAUN PARENT

Shaun Parent spent a week hunting the Yukon River with his family without hardly seeing a moose until day number five when he dropped a jaw dropping monster! The 70” spread contributed to an incredible final score of 234 4/8”. Truly a bull of a lifetime on a hunt that most of us can only dream of.

T

his hunt took place on a river in Northern Yukon, 290 kilometers of beautiful mountain ranges and stunning scenery. It was a week-long trip that floated me through rolling wooded hills and plateaus, mountain valleys, creeks and streams. I was born and raised in the Yukon, but I am very aware of how spectacular the scenery is. This story isn’t about landscape though, it’s about hunting Yukon Alaska moose, the largest of their kind! Our crew consisted of me, my daughter Nycole, my brother Matt, my father Jay and friend Greg Guttman, aka “Junior”. We split into two river boats, Jay and Greg in the big comfortable boat, and the “kids” in the tiny tin can. Thankfully we had recently added an outboard motor so, unlike previous trips we did not have to paddle our way up river.

Day 1 With the boats packed and our rifles readily available, we headed to our first destination. It was a cabin that we have stayed at many times. We made our way there, made supper and got our beds ready while my Dad went down to the river to make a few cow calls. It was an easy first day and we called it an early night, knowing the best was yet to come!

Day 2 We spent the day covering ground, hiking through prime moose habitat, calling and hunting as we went. Despite our best efforts, we struck out. There was no cabin now, so we set up our wall tent and enjoyed camp fires, telling stories and eating some baked beans, a great snack before bed.

Day 3 By now we had a routine. “Coffee’s always first, no exceptions” Uncle Greg announced again to start the day. We packed up camp, loaded our boats and the elders headed down river first to gain a few hours on us and split up our crew, increasing our odds. Nycole, with her lucky moose toque on, reassured me and Matt that everything will be ok

and today will be the day we get a moose! We did not stop all day, floating along in hopes that we would see a bull coming out for a drink of water or to cross the river. Just as we began talking about the elders, wondering where they were, I heard the sound of an outboard motor slowly getting louder. I noticed the boat from a distance, and as we got closer I spotted what looked like a small piece of drift wood strapped to the bow. As they got closer, about 10 feet away, I could clearly see that it was a moose rack and they were smiling ear to ear!

A nice little “spiker” would make for good eating through the winter. After the tough start we had, we were all happy to know that we wouldn’t go home empty handed and there would be meat in the freezer. We headed down the river to set up camp again and listened to them brag all evening. As we sat there, all I could think of was getting sleep and wonder what tomorrow would bring!

Day 4 We put in a full day of hunting, but did not have any luck.

As the afternoon passed by, we decided to hike in to a small cabin that we knew was close by. As we arrived at the cabin, we saw it needed a bit of work. I decided to empty the boat while the others got the cabin ready. I had a plan to do a quick trip back up the river to check a slough we passed.

Matt hopped in with me and away we went! We hiked into the slough and were disappointed to find little sign. Sunset was fast approaching as I looked over to Matt who was deep in thought, picking his nose. I told him, “It’s time to head back.” As we float back in the boat, about halfway between our camp and the slough, Matt pointed to a hillside about 1500 yards away.

I looked over and quickly saw that it’s a moose! His facial expression said it all. I grabbed my binoculars and had a gander.

I could see the bull was moving quickly along the game trail cut into the bank. “It’s hard to tell just how big he is,” I said as we pull over to the opposite side of the river bank and try to get a closer look. The wind wasn’t in our favour and it was getting dark. Looking through my scope the bull travelled further away. My gut told me not to make a shot like that, so I didn’t consider it. A bull that size could go for days wounded and that’s not something we would risk. We continued to “call” but he wouldn’t acknowledge us. The sun was now moving behind the hills and we waited the few minutes we had left of daylight with the hope he would stop for us. I didn’t want to sleep on the river bank so we headed back to camp empty handed. We told our story to Jay and Greg and made a plan for morning!

The five of us squeezed into an 8x15 foot cabin were crammed like sardines as I drifted off while listening to the elders snore.

Day 5 We all slept in for a bit and it felt good. Matt and I quickly announced that we were going to head back up river in hopes of finding the bull from the evening before. We both knew time was running out. The plan was for our Uncle Duke to pick us up in two days at our destination point, so the pressure was on to pull the trigger! It was a decent day for weather with no wind and scattered clouds. We did our usual spot checks, stopping to make some calls. I was still thinking of the monster from the day before. I could tell Matt felt the same way as he was like a pit-bull with his eyes and ears sharp and focused.

We both felt it, “That bull is somewhere in this area.” The day went by and we flogged the river hard but need fuel, so back to camp we go. We grabbed a bite to eat and discuss our plans for the rest of the day. All five of us agree to climb into the big boat and head up the river. Twenty minutes into the trip Jay spots action in the willows! He has a real knack for spotting moose. Whatever is moving was deep and hard to see. We finally can make it out as a cow. She is staring right at us. This is what we wanted to see, and I knew there is a bull close now!

We moved around the next bend and headed to shore to make a plan. There was a game trail that lead through the willows and over to the base of the hill side. Matt and I crept very slowly and quietly through the willows.

They were so thick that it was hard to see more than a few yards in any direction. As we got close, we noticed fresh tracks. Cow tracks, and then big bull tracks! I stepped on a stick and it snapped. Matt looked over at me with a look on his face that did little to hide his anger. We followed the tracks which took us back down towards the river. We decided to go back to the boat, meeting up

with the rest of the group and decided to drift down quietly to find somewhere we could climb a hill and glass for a while.

“There must be a bull with this cow, and we just need to find them at the right time,” I thought to myself. We drifted back around the bend and I looked around at the others. I can see that we are all thinking and plotting about how we are going to find the bull. As we crested the bend, suddenly there he was! A bull so massive, standing out from the thick willows, paired up with the cow, standing in plain view on the river bank! The bull turned his head and looked directly at us.

He was standing in the perfect broad side position for a shot.

My 7mm already in hand, I moved to the bow. I quickly found him in my scope and we all went silent. I squeezed the trigger and saw a direct hit behind the front shoulder! The cow ran off but the bull didn’t drop or move! I knew I hit him, but quickly reloaded and gave him another. He dropped to the ground and we quickly pulled up onto the river bank and jumped out.

As we walked closer, the size of the massive animal is evident.

He is nothing short of incredible!

It turns out this bull had a 70 inch spread the day of the kill.

The final score for the Boone and Crocket was 234 4/8!