Big Game Illustrated Issue 3 by Big Game Illustrated

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Chad Wilkinson & Devin Gorder

Production Team Kaare Gunderson, Shawn Danychuk Cody Forsberg, Phil Webb,

Stuart Christiansen, Adam Deutscher, Rob Hanes

Layout & Circulation:

EcoImage Media & Design, Lindsay Wilkinson

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In the Next Issue... Loaded with incredible stories!

More real content than any other publication available today.

ILLUSTRATED BIG GAME

Volume 1 Issue 3 Winter Edition 2013

In This Issue...

Big Frank by Matt Hiatt & Eric Weubker

10 Mission Accomplished by Kyle McNeal 16 Beauty of a Beast by Morgan Hadland 20 Crazy Horn by Doug Gibson 16

28 Whitetail Redemption 34 Eastern Droptine

by Dustin Saccucci

by Albert Richard

38 Mooselake Monster as told by Ernie Campeau & Jim Moore written by Phillip Webb

44 Mr. Junk by Ted Glasrud 62

48 Friday the 13th by Savanna Koebisch 52 Good Luck Bucks by Chris Parenteau 58 First Time Elk Hunter Scores Bull of a Lifetime by Madison Garry

62 Back to Back Velvet Dream Bucks by Justin Clark 70

70 Red Willow Buck by Aaron Gould 76

Hooker by Shawn Danychuk

Contact Big Game Illustrated Phone: (306) 930-7448/(306) 960-3828 Email: info@biggameillustrated.com By Mail: 28-2995 2nd Ave W. S6V5V5 Prince Albert, Sk, CANADA

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A big northern Saskatchewan whitetail in what is called the â&#x20AC;&#x2DC;flehmenâ&#x20AC;&#x2122; response. Whitetail bucks use this position to test whether a doe is receptive to breeding. A group of does had just passed through the area when he came through.

Lindsay Wilkinson Photo

FEATURES...

15 Inspiration and the

Journey

by Chad Wilkinson

Worst Case Scenario by Cam Jones

by Kevin Wilson

Having a hunting significant other helps to make the journey a much more memorable one.

Journey of a Hunter by Kaare Gunderson

Going through the journey of targeting your game and having those special encounters.

How-to turn those less than ideal bowhunting shots into a more successful outcome.

Everything Outdoors

by Brad Fry

Hard work and dedication pays off and helps to rekindle a past love of hunting.

Explains how sharing hunting and outdoor experiences helps to inspire others.

The Toughest Client-

The Future of Hunting Dedicated to all the young hunters.

BY: MATT HIATT & ERIC WUEBKER

Part I: By Eric Wuebker

he story of “Big Frank” begins in the summer of 2010. While checking my cameras, I first captured “Big Frank” on trail camera on August 29, 2010. As soon as I saw the photo, I completely dedicated my 2010 season to pursuing this monster whitetail. The 2010 season came and went and the photos that were taken on August 29 would be the only trail camera photos of “Big Frank” the entire 2010 season. The 2011 season came with high anticipation, but this year he did not show up at all. I figured that he either died of old age, was hit by a car, or shot by another hunter. My 2012 season started like the previous two. I hung my cameras, put out mineral licks, and threw down a bag of corn in hopes of capturing some nice deer. The first time I checked

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my camera was August 31, 2012. I grabbed my memory card and headed back to the truck to check the pictures with a digital camera. When I got to the photos on August 17, I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. “Big Frank” was back and he was gigantic. I called Matt Gardner, a friend and co-worker of mine, to share in my excitement. The following Monday, Matt and I went through the photos and we were both in awe of this special deer. Needless to say, 2012 was dedicated to pursuing “Big Frank” yet again. So throughout the summer of 2012, I checked my cameras every two weeks to minimize my intrusion and “Big Frank” showed up all the time. Each time I checked my memory cards, when “Big Frank” made an appearance, I documented the time, temperature, moon, and

Matt Hiatt from Centerville, Ohio with the incredible buck that he, and fellow hunter Eric Wuebker, were both targeting since 2010. Matt’s first call was to Eric after downing the deer. The numbers on Big Frank illustrate just how unique this Midwest giant is. The greatest spread is 33” even with an inside spread of 29 6/8”! Main beams are also extrordinary with the left one stretching the tape at 31 2/8” and the right one 29 6/8. The brow tines are also above average at 10” and 9 4/8”. The final gross score of Matt’s buck is 187” even.

direction of travel to try and figure out how I would get a shot at this monster. As the summer progressed, he made a couple of day time appearances so my hopes were high! Like so many of us know, deer hunting has a way of putting you on an emotional roller coaster. My highs were getting “Big Frank” on camera and my lows were about to come. In mid-September, Matt Gardner and I were at work when his phone beeped with a Facebook message. The message was from Matt Hiatt. Matt Gardner and Matt Hiatt have become Facebook friends over the past couple of years and the message was a picture of a deer. Matt Gardner showed me the picture and my heart instantly sank. It clearly was “Big Frank” and I was devastated. My secret was out! After contemplating on what to do, I decided to reach out to Matt Hiatt to see where the picture was taken and to share information with him. Without knowing Matt, I called his cell phone and we talked for forty five minutes about “Big Frank”. We agreed that we should meet sometime because we were hunting adjacent properties, of which, “Big Frank” was roaming on both. Shortly after our first phone call, Matt and I met and became quick friends. On opening evening, I was in my stand and had two large deer in the bean field right before dark, but neither presented me with a shot. I snuck out of my stand at 8:05 pm. I hunted the next evening too. Before climbing into my stand on Sunday, I checked my camera from the night before and at 8:20, “Big Frank” was right in front of my camera……15 minutes! The next couple of weeks were uneventful and I was getting excited for the rut. Hurricane Sandy was rolling though Ohio and brought rain and cold temperatures. The first cool, sunny day following that massive storm, I was at work thinking I should be in the woods. My cell phone rang at 9:30 am and “Matt Hiatt” popped up on my caller ID and I knew that I was too late. Before answering the call, I already knew what happened. Matt and I talked and I left work immediately to either track or drag “Big Frank.” There was a little part of me that hoped it was some other deer, but I somehow knew it was him. As I entered the woods to help Matt, I saw him standing next to a giant deer and knew immediately that it was “Big Frank” because his giant main beam was sticking off the ground. In all my years of hunting, that very moment was the most bittersweet moment

I’ve had in the deer woods. I had 105 pictures of him, tracked him for months, and shot him 5 million times in my mind and he was now dead. On the other hand, I was very happy for Matt and that he made a clean, ethical kill and that “Big Frank” did not die by a poacher, old age, or by a vehicle. Even though I would have loved to put my tag on “Big Frank”, I like to think that I’ve gained a friend with Matt Hiatt. Besides, you never know what’s going to be on your camera next year!

Part II: By Matt Hiatt My first indication that a giant buck roamed the farm I hunted was 2 years ago while I was away for work. My buddy Peter Oakes told me about the “wide giant” buck they saw while hunting the opening day of Ohio’s gun season in 2010. I was excited for them to harvest this buck, but was admittedly a little bummed that I didn’t have a chance at him…or so I thought. Fast forward a couple years to 2012. As usual me and my hunting buddies were out working the property by June, cutting shooting lanes, planting food plots, establishing or refilling mineral sites, and setting up trail cameras. By the end of July we had a few stands hung on the main property I intended to hunt. In the evenings after work, Peter and I would go out

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daylight….and waited. Good shooting light finally came through in the woods around 7:35am. Once there was enough light to take an ethical shot I decided I would bang some antlers together. Over the past week I had been having a lot of success with rattling. It seemed like every time I would rattle, a buck or bucks would come check things out. It seemed to always be younger bucks, but it was enough to encourage me to keep trying. Around 5 minutes after I finished rattling/grunting/bleating a small buck came trotting through, looking for what was causing the commotion. He looked around a bit, but when he did not see anything he continued past me. Around 8:20am I heard what sounded like a football team running through the woods in my direction from the east. I stood up, grabbed my bow, turned the camera on and pointed it in the direction of the noise. At first I saw a doe come charging through, about 35 yards out in front of me, followed by the buck I had rattled in earlier. I was disappointed because I had hoped she would have a bigger buck with her. But right after the two deer passed, I saw something that caused my heart to stop for a moment. It was Big Frank! His rack truly made him a wide giant and I wondered how he would get through the woods carrying it. He did not have any trouble as he came busting through the woods, somehow managing to get his wide rack through the honeysuckle with ease. Over the next five minutes, which seemed like an hour, Frank moved in on the doe slowly. The doe was now walking directly toward my stand. I thought to myself “This is perfect!” However I was wrong because she stopped ten yards from my

to all the properties and glass the fields to see which deer were coming out and where. The first time that I ever laid eyes on Big Frank was mid-August. Peter and I pulled in and as we were driving down the lane toward the parking area we saw a group of about 10 deer in the bean field. As we approached the parking area we could see the deer better and could tell it was 5 bucks, 2 does and 3 yearlings. “WOW!” is all we could say as we scrambled to try and take a picture of the buck I would later learn had been named Big Frank. The problem was that these deer were not where we expected to see them and as a result we were easily within view of the deer. They saw us and walked off rather quickly before we could get any pictures. The image of the “wide giant” was however, forever burned into our memories. Over the next month and a half leading up to Ohio’s archery season I didn’t see Big Frank or get any pictures of him. I wrote off the one time sighting as a fluke, and thought he must have moved on. A week prior to opening day I checked trail cameras one last time. On September 19th I had a picture of Big Frank, and it was ten minutes before legal shooting light! The problem was that it was on a farm across the street from my well set stands. I had some other good bucks in the area around my stands, so I was not too upset, although visions of Big Frank did regularly enter my mind. The first month of deer season was filled with encounters with does and young bucks. I was hunting hard since my wife Rhonda and I were expecting our first child in mid-November, so I knew I had to get it done now! I usually trade out memory cards on my trail camera while hunting the stand the camera is looking over, so I can check out the pictures while sitting to help pass time. On a late October hunt, I found a nice surprise on the trail camera-October 27th at 5:35am Big Frank was 10 yards from my tree stand. I was full of confidence when my eyes saw that image and now began to think that maybe I had a chance at the big bruiser! I had to work the next few days and then my ‘Rut Vacation’ hunt time began on November 1st. I was up very early, full couple Cranes captured of excitement and wonderingAwhat theSandhill rut would bring past in early spring by the author. my stands. I settled into my stand at 6:18am and waited for 8

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stand and then stared directly up at me for what seemed like forever. Frank was not far behind her so I sat absolutely still, like a statue and focused hard on not scaring her. I let out a sigh of relief as she slowly walked off in the direction they came from. Frank was committed to follow here and I thought I would get my chance. However, the old buck made a turn away from my shooting lane and I wasn’t sure I would get a shot. By the Grace of God there was a hole in the brush the size of a basketball and I decided once he stepped behind it I would thread an arrow down to him. Like it was scripted, he stepped behind a tree allowing me to draw, and then he put his vitals perfectly behind the hole in the brush. Deep breath, let the arrow go, Ssssswwwwaaaaccckkk! Frank ran off into the thick honeysuckle and I sat down, beginning to breathe again and trying to calm myself down. I pulled my phone out

and sent a text to my wife only to find out more interesting news….the doctors say she may be in labor….just perfect! At this point I realize I may need to speed the recovery process up a bit, but I wanted to wait a full hour before tracking. Then my thoughts turned to Eric and I knew it was time to break the news to him. When Eric answered the phone all I could say was “Hey dude, I’ve got some bad news for you” he immediately knew what I meant. My friends Peter, Eric, and Matt all showed up a short while later to help me drag the buck out and get a few pictures quickly before I would hurry up to the hospital. As I was pulling out I got word that my wife Rhonda was not in labor and I could relax and enjoy the trophy God blessed me the chance to harvest. Five days later I received another blessing, baby Lauren Alice Hiatt.

www.saskbowhunters.ca Big Game Illustrated

o say I was pumped to get out in the 2011 Alberta season and chase whitetails would have been an understatement. I had spent nearly two and half months the previous season going hard after a great whitetail buck. I had setup my trail camera in mid-September, and the hunt was on. But after more than 75 days, I had no choice but to throw in the towel. I was burnt out and confused as how this animal was able to elude me for so long. To this day that is still the biggest buck I have ever captured on one of my trail cameras and that motivated me to work even harder in upcoming seasons. As the 2011 season neared, I was ecstatic to go after another great buck. The previous season had taught me many lessons, and this time I changed my tactics. I was more cautious, and looked at the lay of the land more carefully. I was much more careful and thoughtful about where I placed trail cameras, ensuring that I used all my trail cameras to my full advantage. Covering any trail I thought he might step foot on. The problem was, was he still here? Did he

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make it through the 2010 hunting season? Or did the previous winter take its toll on him? These questions all remained to be answered until I got an answer, or one of the cameras captured him. During the early fall I had set up a few tree stands that I thought had good potential. I was planning to hunt the same area where I had chased the big deer the previous season. My frustration grew as I was having no luck in locating "my buck". Every chance I could get out, my father Duncan tagged along. We checked cameras, repositioned them, tweaked them slightly. All the while we were thinking this buck may have just slipped by. The thought entered my mind more than a few times, while reminiscing on the past season. Was I chasing another ghost?, Would this season be a replay of the previous? Keeping my patience and holding my confidence while trying to remain positive, I pressed on. The leaves, that at start of this journey, were so green and full of color, began to fall from their limbs. October was nearing and the rut was

BY: KYLE MCNEAL

Kyle McNeal with the impressive buck he took in the Alberta woods in 2011. After a frustrating 2010 season which included over 75 days in the field, hunting one specific buck, he was determined to take a good buck in 2011, and he did just that! After capturing numerous trail camera pictures of a big 5x5, he was committed to hunting only that specific buck. Long tines and good mass are the defining featured of the chocolate rack. The longest tines include an 11 7/8 G2, 9 5/8” G3 and 6 3/8” G4. The antlers carry good mass throughout the length of the beam as well, with the largest H4 going 4 7/8”

not far behind. Throughout the previous month, I had seen quite a few decent and respectable bucks, however, they were not the one I came for. Finally, on October 8th, I got the proof I had been waiting for all this time. A great looking, tall, heavy buck had posed in front of a camera. Although the picture was kind of sketchy and I was only able to make out one side of his rack, he appeared to have five tall points and a heavy beam. His other side was hidden behind a tangled mess of branches. He was by far the biggest buck I had on camera in this area. I had set this camera up just yards away from where I had been standing when I had first seen the dandy buck the year prior. Now I was pumped! Having to go back to work the next day I had brought a copy of the trail cam picture to show a couple co-workers who were, like me, avid hunters. They all agreed that it was a great deer and one well worth pursuing. It really didn’t matter; my mind was already made up. He was the deer I was after! There is something special and exceptionally challenging about

hunting one specific deer. During the next month I was stumped because there were no more new pictures of him. Remembering all too well how familiar this situation was, I proceeded to move cameras around. I moved some more cameras into the area and tried to cover the area around where the only picture was snapped. Finally, on the exact same trail, a month later, he was back! It was November 1st and this time I got a perfect straight on view of both sides of his rack. There was no question; he was a dandy 5x5 with great height and respectable mass. As much as this was a good thing, I was also worried. November 1st is the date when this area of Alberta opens for rifle. The location was not far from a lease road that is very well known to the many hunters who drive the roads in rifle season. Although I was worried, I thought to myself “This buck had eluded me all this time, and also survived many hunting seasons prior, so he was not stupid and would most likely avoid the road”. I had hunted every weekend possible, leading up to my

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yearly deer hunting trip which this particular year was 18 days. It was November 10th, I had finished work and was heading to pick up my long time hunting partner, Bob. He would be joining me on this 18 day hunt. From the previous months, he was well aware of the deer I was after. I had been emailing him the few pictures I did get of him. On November 13th, the ghost was back on the same camera and on the same trail! This gave me the confidence I needed. I knew that I just needed to put in the time. He had now been in that exact spot numerous times, and I was betting that he would be back. I had almost 20 cameras on patrol, trying to pattern the smart buck, but he only ever appeared on one of them, so my plan was pretty much set. The following week was calling for bitterly cold temperatures which had my hopes high for some good deer movement. I remember the morning of November 18th very well. I was up early, eating one of Bob's great breakfasts. It was cold. So bitterly cold overnight that my truck was unable to start. This was not good because I should have been throwing my gear in the back and driving away from camp and off to the stand! Instead I was freezing, trying to warm up my truck so it would start. The minutes ticked by and all I could think about what my empty stand with the buck standing under it. Finally, I was able to get the truck started. I grabbed my gear, some lunch and headed out into my stand….late! Even though I was not happy about how the morning went, I was not going to let that stop me from hunting and sticking with my plan. It was around 9am when I finally got into my stand. I remember it was cold and it had been snowing all week. I remember looking around at all the pine trees layered in snow, like icing on a cake, and thinking it would be a quick shot if he showed up. As I sat there, I religiously checked the wind. Even 12

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as I froze in the bitter cold wind, I tried to make very little movement, knowing that the slightest creak of my stand could cost me my chance. I used my eyes to survey the landscape in front of me, while doing the occasional shoulder check to make sure nothing slipped behind me. I remember it was a Friday and I had been out already for a week. The silence was intermittently broken by the rumble of a truck on the nearby lease road. I was thinking to myself “I wonder if any of them see me and think I am nuts for freezing in this tree?” As the hours ticked by, I kept thinking about how it would happen. I had it all planned in my head, “What direction he will come from, how will I take the shot?” I wondered, “Will he be on the trail of a doe or flying solo?” I remember there was one particular spot I watched because it was one of the few spots in the giant wall of white covered pines I could see through. I pictured taking the shot

through this narrow lane. It was in this exact spot that something caught my eye. I remember the clearing going dark, and then back to daylight. I knew something had walked behind the tree, but was unable to make out the animal. I sat patiently maneuvering my head slightly trying to find an opening, trying to see what it was. Finally, as if appearing out of cloud "my buck" was head down and on a mission. He was on the line where I had placed my stand and was making his way to his favorite trail. I kept calm somehow, not wanting to get busted. He hadn’t offered a clear shot, but he was already very close and there was no cover between me and him except for one tree just in front of me! I had played this scenario over in my head and thought that I would have a shot opportunity once his head got behind the tree. I've had buck fever before, but having the deer in front of you, that you’ve been chasing religiously for a couple months, and then having him come out right before your nose, is a feeling I cannot explain. Just as I had pictured in my head, the buck worked his way towards the tree. I waited as my plan was about to happen. He just needed to take one more step and then I could move and get ready for a shot! Then the buck stopped right in front of the tree! He did not give me a shot, and was now facing me! After a few seconds, as I waited patiently, he looked away and I shouldered the rifle. He

slowly began to move and I waited for him to pass the tree for a shot, I remember watching the mist that my breath was making and I could see the trail going right in the direction of the buck. I thought to myself, “This has to be a quick one because he is going to catch my scent”. Finally, the big buck stepped out from behind the tree, I pulled the trigger. BOOOOM! The buck did not hesitate, his back legs kicked up and he vanished again. I waited several minutes, listening patiently in extreme excitement. I played it over and over in my head on what had just happened. I wanted to get on that blood trail so badly. After a short wait, I climbed down from the stand and immediately found blood. “Waaaahooooo!” I decided to go pick Bob up and give the deer some time. I remember getting into my truck and calling my good friend Steve who was also a member of our camp that year and not far away from us. I shouted “I got him!” Both Bob and Steve helped in the tracking of my buck. I cannot thank my father enough for giving me a hand in the off season and helping this become a successful hunt. The buck had gone just under 100 yards from where I took the shot. It remains a mystery to me on whether or not that was the deer I had seen on that day the year before, but nevertheless it was an unforgettable journey! ~Mission Accomplished~. My 2011 buck scored 158" gross and I could not be happier.

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Inspiration and the Journey CHAD WILKINSON

remember it very clearly. When I answered the phone, the voice on the other end was downright upset. ”I just saw all the big deer pictures you posted online; are you nuts?” exclaimed my friend! I immediately knew what he was getting at, because I used to be the same way. Not that long ago, I used to check my trail cameras with one eye looking over my shoulder to make sure no one could see. Only my most trusted friends would get a privileged glimpse of the big bucks I had on camera and sometimes even my harvest photos would be treated with the same confidentiality. Every effort was made to ensure secrecy and thereby protect my deer and my area. Then, one day when I visited a familiar online hunting forum, that all changed. Historically, I rarely shared anything of value for fear of letting my secrets out of the bag. On that particular day however, I noticed a number of visitors to the forum who were new to hunting; individuals who were legitimately looking for information on how to become a better hunter. Some were asking the most basic of questions about how to get started. Then and there, I realized the importance of sharing information. In fact, it was at that point that I realized the future of hunting literally depends on it! As I browsed the various threads and read scores of eager comments, I was impressed with how many experienced hunters were willing to share a wealth of information. Some had posted photos, some were sharing details about sheds they had found, and still others were sharing trail camera photos. As I continued to scroll through the various comments, it dawned on me - it was this type of information that I had been guarding so closely; the very stuff that was encouraging these new hunters to get out there and experience the thrill and connection with the great outdoors that I held so dear! From that day forward, I have been sharing my hunting experiences with anyone and everyone who will listen. My epiphany involved the realization that I wasn’t acting in the best interest of the activity that I so dearly love. Instead of sharing, promoting and getting excited about moments in the field, I was hiding them for fear that someone might take them away. Instead of celebrating my passion for the outdoors and hunting, I was stressing about it. I’m glad to say, that is no longer the case, and I couldn’t be happier. Inspired to share my knowledge and scores of sensational encounters, it began slowly. Initially I would share a few photos. Believe it or not, I was actually nervous at first. I kept wondering if anyone would recog-

nize the deer and connect them to where I hunt. I remember actually sitting at my computer after I posted a thread, questioning why I was doing it. In hindsight, it seems a bit silly, but I really had to fight through it. Not long after, something happened that confirmed I was doing the right thing. The encounter occurred in a local grocery store of all places! A fellow ran up to me and emphatically began to explain how he had never thought of shed hunting until he saw my pictures on the forum; now he absolutely loves it! He went on to tell me how he takes his younger siblings out and they spend all day searching the fields and forests for shed antlers, and more importantly, they all have a great time doing it. As we talked, he pulled out an assortment of photos and we continued to discuss the best places to look and some of our most exciting finds. But here’s the kicker - since I first began sharing my experiences, this has happened countless times, and that makes it all worthwhile. Fast forward and here I am today, sharing my experiences with you, our readers, and most importantly promoting hunting and everything good that is associated with the outdoors. Big Game Illustrated (BGI) is a special publication, namely because it is designed to be a print forum for real hunters to share real stories. Now with our feet under us I can sincerely say that the most enjoyable part of my job as a publisher is listening to you all share your stories. The process of integrating those experiences into our publication while giving the hunters, animals and each and every story the credit they deserve is an ongoing challenge, but it is something we are committed to doing as we strive for excellence. We continue to welcome submissions and consider it a privilege to share as many of them as we are able. Ultimately one of our goals is to inspire others to hunt. My hope is that BGI will be but one tool that will continue to fuel the fire and maintain our hunting heritage now and long into the future.

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BEAUTY

Morgan Hadland from Kindersley, Saskatchewan with her first ever big game animal. Her hunting career certainly began with a once in a lifetime animal! She downed this tremendous farmland moose in October of 2012. The big prairie moose are becoming more and more common and represent a tremendous hunting opportunity for sportsmen and women in that province as the game department attempts to manage the huge animals. Morgan’s big bull made the Saskatchewan record book with a gross score of 196 5/8” and a net score of 188 6/8”. The 54 6/8” wide bull certainly must have looked out of place on the wide open prairie. Despite that, nobody had encountered the big bull until that fateful day when Morgan tagged him. 16

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BEAST BY: MORGAN HADLAND

had never spent a lot of time hunting, and had never had the pleasure of taking a big game animal. However, in recent years, the number of moose in our area of Saskatchewan has increased dramatically. There is something unique and very special about these giant black monsters who look so out of place on the prairies. After numerous sightings and interesting encounters with some big bulls, I decided that I would love the chance to hunt these big prairie moose. Unfortunately, the season for moose in our zone is only through a draw, so I knew my chances were slim. Despite the slim chance, I put my name in and hoped that one day I may draw a tag. After a few years with no success, I began to forget about my chances of ever hunting the big bulls of the prairie. However, in July of 2012, I found out that both my son and I were drawn for the coveted moose tags! I was extremely excited for the fall season to arrive, and I could not wait to get out there. We ended up spending most of August and September scouting for big bulls. We covered a lot of ground and saw some nice animals. After all of these sightings, I could hardly sleep the evening before opening day. On opening morning, my son was in school, so my husband and I headed out at first light. We saw several moose on that first morning, but we knew that we had to take advantage of this rare opportunity so we let the young bulls go. Luckily we had done all of that early season scouting, because even the young bulls, when standing on the wide open prairie, look really big! After hunting all morning, we came home around noon and waited until the kids were out of school. My son Riley, was just as excited as I was at the opportunity to hunt these prairie moose, so as soon as he was home, we headed back out. Earlier in the morning we had same spotted two young bulls near a small willow bluff so we decided to head back to the same area

thinking that perhaps they had a cow in there with them, and maybe, just maybe, she would bring in one of the big boys that we knew lived in the area. As we snuck up to the willow bluff, sure enough, the two small bulls were still there. We decided that this time it was worth a closer look. We continued to sneak up to the bluff, trying to look for any movement inside the thick ring of willows that would give away a big bull. While we were focused on the inside of the bluff, the young bulls must have picked out our movement because they started stampeding back into the small bluff. We knew that if anything else was in the bluff, all of the commotion may spook them out of there, so we sprinted around the edge of the bluff onto a knoll where we could see both sides of the trees, just in case anything came out. As soon as we got into position we saw a bigger bull, along with a cow and calf, and they were just standing there, staring back into the bluff at the two young bulls that were making so much noise. As the big bull swung his huge head around, I was stunned at the size of his antlers and huge body. This was a GIANT bull, was bigger than any that we had seen while scouting! Before either Riley or I could get into position for a shot, the big bull spun around and charged into the bluff, right at the smaller bulls. He was showing them who was boss and making sure that he had his cow all to himself! The bull ran out the far side of the bluff, well out of range for us to get a shot. Then he met back up with the cow and they all started slowly making their way east to a canola summer-fallow field that was dotted with small willow-choked potholes. We backed out, careful that the moose did not see us or wind us. Once out of sight, we moved quickly and snuck over to the closest pothole that we thought the small group of moose may make their way through. Big Game Illustrated

there was no sign of the moose, not even the small bulls. We surveyed the area and determined that the moose most likely were holed up in the small bluff that we were overlooking. They must have beaten us to the bluff and were now hiding up in the thick brush. It is amazing how quickly they can disappear and stay hidden in such little cover. My husband decided to go around the bluff and try to push the moose through, while Riley, Ashlyn and I stayed where we were to watch if anything came out. Any doubts we had as to whether the moose were still in the bluff were immediately put to rest. As soon as my husband stepped into the bluff, all we could hear were the antlers thrashing and the big bull grunting. It sounded like a bulldozer was tearing up the willows. You could feel the vibration with every deep grunt, it seemed as though he would flatten the entire bluff. It was amazing! The two small bulls came out of the willows, ran for a few seconds and then stopped to stare back at the bluff, almost like they wanted to see what was going to happen but were too scared to stay in the bluff with the big bull. The cow and calf came out, and then the BIG one! The big bull was much more wary than his two young competitors, and he immediately picked us out of the hillside, whirled around and began running full speed away from us. This was not a shot that either Riley or I were going to take. Just as we thought our chance was gone, my husband desperately cow called to the big bull from the edge of the bluff. The hulking black monster could not resist and stopped perfectly broadside at approximately 200 yards. I did not waste any time and took the first shot. I hit him hard with a loud THWACK! The moose staggered a step but stayed on his feet and looked like he was going to run. Riley fired but his shot was a bit high and he missed the moose. I took one more shot and hit him in the same spot and the moose dropped!

Morgan and her son Riley with the tremendous moose shortly after he hit the ground.

My son Riley, who is 13, and I each found perfect spots where we would have a clear shot and then got set up. He had a muzzleloader and I had his .270. Our daughter Ashlyn, who is 9, was watching behind us with my husband. After a while,

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At 4:50 p.m., October 1st, my moose tag was filled! It was an amazing hunt! It was my first ever big game animal and the best part of all is that it was an experience that I got to share with my whole family! It was an experience that none of us will ever forget, and the huge antlers hanging on our wall will always remind us of the special hunt. I would like to thank my husband for being my guide. My kids Riley and Ashlyn for helping and having patience with the field work. Our hunting buddy Brent, for all of his help with field work and scoring and our hunting buddy Kim for his hot tips and guidance! With an antler spread of 54 6/8 inches, circumferences over 7 inches and 7 7/8 deductions. My moose made the Henry Kelsey (Saskatchewan Record) book with a gross score of 196 5/8 and a net score of 188 6/8. He tipped the scales at almost 1500lbs!

Morganâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s daughter Ashlyn was also along on the hunt.

BY: DOUG GIBSON

t was the weekend of November 24th when my brother and I decided we would journey up to the farm from Regina, Saskatchewan for a weekend of hunting whitetails. By this time mule deer season had come and gone. We had both been hunting the draw season and had tagged out early. Despite the success with the mule deer, we had yet to even see a decent whitetail buck and I had already spent 72 hours up in my tree stand with my bow with no success. The area we were heading to held some good bucks, but they were not easy to kill. The whitetails in the area are elusive as they can get, and even during the rut you have to be on the ball to catch one in the open. This is due to the high number of hunters and significant hunting pressure throughout the season. My good friend Shawn had a couple ground blinds set up. He had some quality bucks coming in and also had a couple that needed to be removed from the gene pool. One buck was a thick 3 X 4 that looked like he was in his prime, so we decided that we would put a hit on him. Being the friend he is, Shawn waited until I got to his place and then came out and showed

me some of the other bucks that were coming in. ‘WOW!’ Some that were coming in were impressive! One in particular caught my eye. It had an amazing right side and the left was a complete disaster! Shawn told me that this deer had only been coming in for around a week and only had one day picture and a bunch of night pictures; his name for the buck was fittingly enough, “Crazy Horn”. Crazy horn was put on the hit list along with the old 3 x 4 and we were ready. That night I couldn’t sleep for a second! All I could think about were these big bucks and wondering if I could knock one down with my bow. The next morning we were setup before first light and began the waiting game. The morning was fairly uneventful with a few small does and fawns passing through. We had taken a break from sitting in the blind, grabbed some lunch and were now on our way back to the blind. As we got close to the blind we saw a good buck dogging some does right out in the field! The buck chased the does into a small bluff and we quickly made a change of plans and decided to setup on the bluff and wait there to see if the deer would come out. I

Doug Gibson from Regina, Saskatchewan with the gnarly non-typical buck he took in 2012. His friend Shawn and he were hunting together and were targeting the big buck when Doug was able to close the deal. The gross score on Doug’s buck was just under 160”, but score is just a number and his buck is truly a unique and rare whitetail. Doug explained that the buck had a major foot injury which may have contributed to the crazy antlers. In fact, the injury was so severe that the buck walked on the side of its foot rather than its hoof. Despite that, the buck was a big, healthy animal.

put away my bow and grabbed my rifle. We sat and waited for a long time, but did not see any signs of deer in the trees. With only 10 minutes left of day light we were just thinking of packing up when suddenly Shawn said “Doug, big buck!” When I looked up I saw a buck walking down the edge of the bush at about 80 yards. I got into position, kneeled down and zeroed in on the buck. He had his head down and was zig-zagging, following a hot doe trail. Luckily he was still coming towards us and at 60 yards the safety came off. He lifted his head and looked behind him and Shawn said “Crazy Horn!” I saw the same thing, and before Shawn could finish saying his name I took the shot and the buck went down hard! After sitting and waiting all day, everything happened so fast that it took a long while to calm down!

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We were all pretty excited about shooting Crazy Horn. He was an incredibly unique buck, and a buck that nobody had ever seen. He was a smart old buck who lived in an area with a lot of hunting pressure. In fact, the only person who even knew that Crazy Horn existed was Shawn! Some other cool features about this deer was one of his front hoofs was broken and he was walking on the side of it, and it looked like it had been like that for a long time. Crazy Horn ended up grossing 159 3/8”. For me it wasn’t about score, it was about that crazy mess of antler this buck had and the great season spent outdoors with good friends! I also have to say a huge thank you to Shawn Denton. Without a great friend like him I wouldn’t have had a chance at this buck! Thanks bud!

! ER N IN w” 12 20 RD W Sho WA e New A ZLY vorit Z I GR an Fa

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Brad Fryâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s brother -in-law Kelly Rowlett, is all smiles after taking his massive Saskatchewan Mule Deer. With weak back forks and an average inside spread, the old buck quickly made up for it with exceptional mass throughout his dark stained rack. The old buck still managed a gross score pushing the 220â&#x20AC;? mark! Facing Page: A great buck Brad and Kelly had a close call with earlier in the hunt. If you look closely to the right of the bucks chin, you can see the yellow slug just before it crashes harmlessly to the ground. 24

Big Game Illustrated

aving guided for over two decades, pressure to produce top quality game is not a new thing, it’s simply part of the job. Subsequently, if and when the day comes I don’t enjoy that pre-hunt uneasiness anymore it might be time to hang up the guiding binoculars for good. It’s that pressure to produce and the physical challenge of the hunt that helps fuel my desire to push on when it would be all too easy to fold the tent and go home. A few years ago when I decided to produce a TV show called The Canadian Guide Life, I soon realized there was an entire new level of pressure out there. Not only did I have to continue to produce a good hunt and animal for my client, but now, I also had to capture it all on film, and in turn, use that footage to create an entertaining visual story. Now, a typical guiding job for me may be anywhere from a week long Saskatchewan whitetail hunt to a 2-3 week Yukon sheep hunt…plenty of time to get the job done, especially in remote wilderness where competition for game is almost nil. As far as my clients go, I quite often don’t know them prior to the hunt, so the first few hours are typically spent getting to know each other as well as getting to know their expectations for the hunt. Granted, everyone on a trophy hunt is hoping for the biggest of the big, but for the most part the majority of my clients are looking to have a good experience, see some new country and take home a good representative of the species.

Those are the easy clients! So who are the hardest clients to guide you ask? Well, start by taking the 1-3 week time frame of a typical guided hunt in the wilderness and cram that into a 1-2 day hunt in easy to access country. Then take someone that has only ever heard about your successful hunts for big critters and someone that knows you inside and out and isn’t afraid to tell you like it is and you have just described the hardest “clients” of all, your family! I was lucky to have grown up hunting with my now brother-in-law Kelly Rowlett. We spent many a weekends chasing waterfowl together throughout our grade school years. After high school though, as is the norm, we both went in different directions. I decided to goof off for a living and become a guide while Kelly worked his way up the ladder until eventually starting his own tire & automotive shop in Saskatoon called K & K tire. As a result of his commitment to his family and business, Kelly hadn’t hunted much since high school, but was always anxious and willing to hear my yearly hunting tales at each and every family gathering. Then a few years ago I could tell his interest to get back into hunting started to gain some momentum. He eventually took the first step and started putting in for the Saskatchewan draws, until finally this past fall he drew a coveted Mule Deer tag. Upon hearing the news, schedules were compared and it was Big Game Illustrated

apparent we weren’t going to have much time to try and fill Kelly’s tag. There was a 2 day window in the October muzzleloader season and a day and a half window at the beginning of the November rifle season where our schedules matched. So, we took what we could get and agreed to meet in southern Saskatchewan in early October and if we didn’t score then, we would meet up again in November to try with the rifle. October came quickly and after being successful on my Montana archery Elk hunt, I drove north across the border and met up with an excited Kelly at my usual Mule Deer hang out. I had been in this same area in archery season and had filmed a handful of good bucks that I was now showing Kelly on my video camera. Expecting ooooohs and aaaaahs I got,” Mmm, that’s not a bad one”, as I showed him a massive 200” typical. Perhaps his standards had been a little skewed over the years, I thought, as I put the video camera away and realized we weren’t going to be shooting just any old buck. The first morning out after seeing a few young bucks in the distance, I spotted a gnarly non-typical that my buddy had missed with his bow the year before. Never having much mass over the 3 years I knew him, this guy made up for it in the character department with many non-typical points shooting out the sides of his 30” wide rack. I dialed the buck in and showed him to Kelly through my spotting scope, quietly planning the stalk in my mind. “Not very heavy, eh” Oh no, he noticed the weak mass! “Ya he’s always been a little light,” I responded and brought up the obvious. “How many days did you say you can hunt?” “Have to head home tomorrow”. “Exactly!” I sarcastically thought to myself. Over the next hour I secretly kept 26

Big Game Illustrated

tabs on the non-typical’s movements and went to work on my brother-in-law. “Man he’s a cool looking buck…been after him for three years. Sure has lots of funky points. What a great muzzleloader buck he would be. What’s your best Mule Deer? Oh, you never shot one bigger than a fork horn. Mmmm, ya this one’s pretty good. Did I mention the number of points and the 30” spread? Right, ya, not very heavy though, got it. Oh look at that, he just bedded in a suicidal spot…yep, 3 years I have been waiting for an opportunity like that!” Eventually I think Kelly got the hint and we agreed to take a closer look as we were only a ¼ mile from the peacefully bedded buck. An hour later and we were completing our crawl to 125 yards and with the wind in our favor and the buck drifting in and out of sleep, Kelly’s enthusiasm for taking the non-typical had grown. Another hour of waiting for him to stand up and Kelly was still committed to taking the old guy when I made a poor decision. With the buck’s entire left shoulder fully exposed, I asked Kelly if he could make the shot knowing full well it wasn’t as high a percentage shot as a standing broad side one. Impatience trumped experience and Kelly nodded yes to my question, and a minute later as his slug harmlessly shaved the whiskers off the Muley’s chin, the old buck bounded over the horizon and we were back to square one. A few long weeks later, it was finally opening day of the Mule Deer rifle season. Kelly wasn’t able to meet until the second morning so I thought I would do a little scouting to see if I could find a good starting point for the following day. After spending the better part of the morning walking a large area of hills and only finding a few decent bucks, I reluctantly headed back to the truck to drive to another area. No sooner had I put my truck in drive and bucks started jumping out of the brush all over! The first good buck was a huge typical with an extra in-line off both sides, the same buck I had filmed in velvet but hadn’t seen now for almost two months. After watching him make his escape and wishing I had drawn my own tag, I continued

on down the two track only to bump right into another monster! With this new buck hesitating just long enough before going over the hill; I could make out great mass and a little junk, a definite no brainer. So, after searching for weeks for one real good buck I now had lucked into two, tomorrow morning could not come fast enough! The next morning I met Kelly on the road and after assuring him that both bucks were bigger and better than the non-typical he had missed, he was more than eager to go after either of them, especially with only a day and a half to hunt. A long hour later as legal light arrived, we were sitting just off the skyline of a tall lookout hill hoping for a glimpse of either of the two great bucks. However, with the morning light revealing a heavy layer of ground fog we soon went to plan B, forcing us to use our feet instead of our eyes. Slowly poking along we eventually spotted a few younger bucks before finally making it to the area where the two big guys were the day before. Carefully placing our feet in bare patches of sandy soil, we crested a short hill that overlooked the large sage flat. Raising my binoculars I slowly panned the open ground, until suddenly dark heavy antlers filled the lenses, and I instantly hit the ground, motioning for Kelly to do the same. Ripping out the spotting scope from behind the cover of the hill, I knew exactly which buck this was but needed a closer look. Quickly finding the lone buck on 15 power, it was an easy decision… heavy, heavy, heavy mass…extra sticker points…heavy, heavy tines…SOLD! “Have a look,” I told Kelly as I backed away from the scope. “I am pretty sure it’s that heavy one from yesterday.” Sure of a positive response, I began surveying the country looking for a plan of attack while Kelly looked him over. “That’s definitely a shooter”, confirmed Kelly. With monster buck sightings being rare, I just couldn’t help myself, I had to have one more look before carrying on, but with him moving in the opposite direction it would be a quick look. With the wind still in our favor and with a series of low sand dunes to our left, we crouched over and did double time closing the distance in less than 15 minutes. Still unaware of his potential fate, the buck was on a steady quartering away march to find his bed as we dropped our packs and crawled the remainder of the way to the end of the rise. Ranging the buck at 217 yards, I leaned over to Kelly in the howling wind, gave him the yardage

and told him I would stop the buck. He nodded and I yelled, bringing the old timer to a complete stop as he snapped his head in our direction. Waiting for the shot, the seconds ticked by. The buck didn’t flinch. Why isn’t he shooting? Another second ticked by with the buck presenting the best angle we were going to get. Take him already! I blurted. Finally, absolutely sure of his target, Kelly hit the trigger and the buck’s legs collapsed before crashing to the prairie. I swung the camera on one happy brother-in-law as the adrenaline of the moment had done its job; the hunting fever was back in his eyes! As we all know, rarely does a buck not shrink after its shot, and every once in awhile they actually get bigger... well, this was one of those times. With mass to spare, and age to respect, the almost black antlers were mesmerizing to both of us as very few words were spoken. I not only felt a sense of satisfaction on getting our man but I also felt a sense of relief knowing I had succeeded in fulfilling my brother-in-laws expectations. Looking back on our hunt now, I realize not only did we get a great old Muley, which indeed was the main goal, but more importantly, we rekindling Kelly’s hunting bug….I guess the hunting tales at the next family function won’t be so one sided anymore… Welcome back Kelly!

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HITETAIL REDEMPTION BY: DUSTIN SACCUCCI

he start of the 2012 archery whitetail season was a slow one for me, but it wasnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t due to lack of effort. It was the same routine that my two brothers and I have been running for a while with some pretty good success. The trail cameras go up at the beginning of July and we begin the mission of finding last yearâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s up and comers. In the back of our minds, we always hope that perhaps something new may come along. It was a slow start for me because I took a few weeks off work to help out my dad with harvest. September 4th was a cloudy and rainy day. These conditions quickly put all harvest efforts to a grinding halt. Dad was a little disappointed, but I saw a window of opportunity to grab my bow and head out for the first time! The plan was to meet my cousin after he was done work and pursue a couple nice mulies he had been watching. Now the only reason I decided to chase the mule deer was because one of the best whitetails we had on camera had already been taken by another hunter. My brother, Derek, had arrowed the velvet buck on the opening day of archery season. I did not have anything else on the trail cameras that I was interested in, so I was focused on mule deer for the time being. As I was sitting in the parking lot waiting for my cousin to come out, I figured I should go through my hunting pack and make sure everything was there. It was all looking good, until I realized I had left my release back at home! I was feeling discouraged because I blew my only chance to get out for the next week, so I told my cousin he was going to have to count me out for the evening hunt. On my way home with an hour or so of daylight to kill, I thought

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Dustin Saccucci with the massive buck he was able to ers and father, on a regular basis. His brother Derek plan and new target buck. He definately found it! Th buck carried right through to the end of the main bea

as able to harvest using archery tackle in the fall of 2012. Dustin is able to enjoy hunting with his two brothr Derek was able to anchor their target buck while he was still in velvet which left Dustin searching for a new nd it! The big bruiser ended up with a gross score of 169 3/8, which is helped out a lot by the solid mass his main beams. Big Game Illustrated

I might as well take the long way home and check out some new country. Even though I was without my release, just watching or possibly finding some new deer was better than nothing at all. With about twenty minutes of daylight left, and not seeing much for activity, I approached a standing barley field and was amazed at what I saw. Half a dozen bucks, still in full velvet, not more than eighty yards of the road! Out of the six deer, one stood out above the rest. He was a beautiful 5 x 4 with tall, thick tines. I instantly and without a doubt decided that this was the animal I wanted. Since I did not have permission or a release with me, all I could do was watch while daylight slowly faded away. The next day I woke up to a phone call from my dad saying he would be by in a half hour to pick me up. The sun was shining brightly and harvest was back under way. Hunting was put back on hold. For the next week, while driving the grain truck, all I could think about was the thick tined buck. I had a lot of time to put a plan together on how I would get to this deer. Moving ahead to September 12th, I was on my way home with the 2012 harvest complete. I could now try and pursue

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the big 5 x 4. I had found the landowner to the barley field and surrounding bush where I had seen the bucks. He was an older farmer that granted me permission to hunt his land, and he thanked me for stopping in to ask. My first step was to check out some maps online and find an aerial view of what I was

dealing with. I found one particular spot which stood out as the best spot for a possible blind or stand. The next day, I slipped into the bush for a closer view. It turned out to be the perfect spot for a ground blind. It was a nice size opening with scattered bluffs and the best part it was only about three hundred yards from where I first seen the six bucks! The blind went up, tall grass was trimmed, and the trail camera was armed and ready for action. A couple of days later I returned to pull the camera card to see if he had made an appearance. I now had his pictures! He had come in two out of the three days. It was clear that I was set up perfectly in his bedroom. Now all I needed was the right wind and I was confident that I could get a look at the big deer. The first couple of sits I made in the blind were decent

evenings. The deer came in, fed, and never really paid much attention to my presence. The only one not to come in was the one I was after! However, the trail camera revealed he was still there, but he was always coming in late. The fourth evening of the hunt began just like the others. First the does and fawns came in followed by the younger bucks. But on this evening, and with lots of good daylight remaining, I laid my eyes on the big 5 x 4. I watched him slowly make his way down the trail towards me. As he cautiously approached all the deer, they just stepped to the side and made way for him. Now at thirty yards and with his head down in front of me, I slowly drew back the bow. Everything was perfect and going smoothly, until I released the arrow. My nerves got the better of me and the arrow sailed clean over his back! The buck was gone and I was sure I had scared him out of the country. As I walked to where the deer last stood, and to find my arrow, I was still weak in the knees and sick to my stomach. It didn’t take long to find the arrow stuck in a tree and not a drop of blood on it. Before returning to continue with the hunt, I figured I would give the spot a few days to cool down.

Dustin’s brother Derek with the velvet non-typical the Saccucci’s were targeting in the early season.

A few days actually turned into five days due to wrong wind direction. On September 29th, and with the muzzleloader season fast approaching, I headed back into the blind with my bow in hand. It was a great evening to be out, except that the deer didn’t seem to be cooperating. Nothing was coming in. Instead the deer seemed to be crossing right in front of me and nothing was committed to coming within bow range. After watching a few of the smaller bucks in the distance and listening to the light sparring that was going on, I caught a glimpse of my deer. He was out at the far end of the opening. My hopes of getting a shot were not very high, and I fully expected him to stay out of bow range, just like all of the other deer did. The sun was fading fast and darkness was fast approaching when a small spike buck along with a doe and a fawn decided to come in. This caught the big guy’s attention and he soon followed their trail. He wasted no time as he barreled into range! He came in fast, pushed the other deer out of his way and stood perfect for me. My bow came up to full draw at the same moment when his head went down. This time the arrow had found its mark! You could hear the distinct sound of the arrow making contact with the buck’s thick chest. As he turned to run away, I stuck my head out to listen for any sort of a sound of him going down in the nearby bush. I heard a few loud cracks of branches snapping, then

dead silence. I was quite confident with the shot, but still remained in the blind to give him time to expire. Time now seemed to stand still, but I made the best of it by make a few phone calls to my brothers to tell them what had just happened. As I waited for my brothers to show up, I couldn’t take the suspense anymore. I made my way towards the spot where he last stood and I saw the green lumenok lit up in the grass. I picked up the arrow and it was completely covered in blood! The blood trail he left me to follow had looked like someone had painted it. Fifty yards from where I started, the big 5 x 4 was lying on the ground! Who would have ever guessed that forgetting my release at home would result in such an incredible experience? As I waited for my brothers to show up, I took a couple of minutes to be thankful for not only taking a great animal, but also for having an understanding and loving family, and being able to call this great province home.

Dustin’s daughters Taylor and Sydney Saccucci pose with their dad’s big buck. Owen Arthur of Round Table Taxidermy did a great job on the pedestal mount for Dustin.

Talk about MASS!

Photo by Hamilton Greenwood 32

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Worst Case ScenarioPart 1 CAM JONES

f you bow hunt long enough, it is pretty much a guarantee that you will have the stories you don’t care to share or would rather forget! The stories of poor shots, long track jobs or the gut churning feeling that comes with the failure to recover your animal. As with all such experiences, lessons can be learned and put in play to prevent repeats of such events. It may be the lesson of patience, like waiting for a high percentage broadside shot, or recognizing the limitations of your current shooting ability. Each season I think everyone takes away a new lesson that makes them a better bowhunter. There are, of course, those scenarios that play out where despite doing everything right, the result is less than perfect, simple human error raises its ugly head! This is where choosing and building archery equipment for the ‘worse case scenario’ has huge benefits! What do I mean when I say worse case scenario? In short, not putting your arrow where you want it to go! Finding shoulder, hitting too far back, quartering away shots you thought you had dialed in – these would be worse case scenarios. This is where the true effectiveness of your entire bowhunting package is put to the ultimate test and thankfully there are things you can do as a bowhunter to improve your success of recovery if and when these shots happen to you! Alright you all saw it coming! Time to talk broadheads – the business end of your arrow! We all have assorted collections of broadheads we have purchased or used over the years and it is the single piece of bowhunting gear that gets more attention than anything else...and for good reason! A well designed broadhead best suited for your set-up will help ensure the longest, most damaging wound channel possible; to make sure you recover your game. Now given the crazy selection available, it’s easy to see how choosing the best possible design for your particular set-up can be tough. Here are a few tips to help you out. First – do your homework! Take a real, in-depth, honest look at your set up and ask these questions - Do I have a shorter than average draw? Is my draw weight at the typical high end of the scale at 70-60lbs range or is it more towards the 50-40lb range? How far are my typical shots? Granted there are

more factors to consider, such as the energy your bow is capable of delivering but this is a good place to start. A solid rule of thumb for broadhead selection is all based on efficiencies. The more energy a bow/arrow combination is able to generate (long draw lengths and higher weights) the more options you have for larger cutting diameters. Simply put larger cutting diameters require more energy to push through a game animal to get the job done. If you have less energy to burn then a broadhead that has less cutting diameter and a more traditional cut on contact, gradually sweeping blade profile will be your best bet for success. Both traditional style cut on contact broadheads and mechanicals from many manufacturers are designed with this principal in mind. then a broadhead that has less cutting diameter and a more traditional cut on contact, gradually sweeping blade profile will be your best bet for success. Both traditional style cut on contact broadheads and mechanicals from many manufacturers are designed with this principal in mind. It’s easy to get caught up in going for the biggest cutting broadhead you can get your hands on but in truth you do lose a measure of efficiency when you do this – even if you believe that you have the energy to burn. If a bowhunter with a 31” draw and 70lb draw weight decided to utilize a broadhead that was designed to perform better for a lower energy set-up what results could you expect? The results, even in the worst case scenarios, would likely be ridiculous pass throughs and far more damage done, even when the shot is less than perfect!! So if you feel your set-ups could perform better and result in greater success in the field – your right! Selection and tuning with worse case scenarios in mind will go a long way to ensuring far more of your bowhunting tales end with pictures to back them up! “Cam Jones is the owner of Darkhorse Archery and has specialized in arrow design and manufacturing as well as high performance arrow tuning for hunting applications. His current lists of clients include - Jim Shockey, Eva Shockey as well as Cody and Kelsy Robbins” Big Game Illustrated

Albert Richard from Sunny Corner, New Brunswick with the great buck he harvested while hunting with his dad is that province. Albert lives to hunt whitetails, and a buck like this is truly a buck of a lifetime in New Brunswick. The big buck sports an inside spread of 23 1/8â&#x20AC;? and a 6â&#x20AC;? droptine off the right antler. Albert also makes an annual trip to the prairie provinces of Canada in order to persue big whitetails there. He has managed to harvest a number of great deer over the years, and is also an avid shed hunter, as highlighted in the next couple pages.

EASTERN BY: ALBERT RICHARD

s I awoke to the sound of high wind and pouring rain in the wee hours of the morning on November 10th 2005, little did I know that my whitetail hunting goals would be forever changed by the events about to unfold that day. It was cold and windy, with the rain pouring from the sky, hardly ideal weather for an east coast whitetail hunt. All I could think of, as my father and I were sitting at our hunting camp table having breakfast, was how miserable it was going to be sitting in a tree stand getting soaked. It turned out that my father was thinking the same because as he looked over at me he said, “Albert, today would be a great day to scout around the woods and check some clover fields.” We both knew it was the peak of the rut and the chances of catching a big buck chasing a hot doe out in the open would be better than usual. It was the only time of year when the big, wary old bucks get a little stupid chasing does during the rut. We soon gathered our gear, jumped in the truck and headed down the road to nearby thick forest and prime farmland. As my father and I do not do a lot of road hunting, it didn’t take long for us to stop the truck and head out into the mix of farmland and tall forest. We made our way quietly into an area that we knew held some hidden clover fields. It felt like we were the only hunters in the woods that day. Looking back now, I realize we likely were, because of the poor weather conditions which surely kept most sane hunters at home or in camp where they would be dry and warm. After scanning and glassing numerous fields without seeing one single deer we started to think that even the deer were hiding deep in the thick brush waiting for the storm to pass. ‘Not only are there no other hunters out, but no deer out either’, I muttered under my breath. By the time nine am came around we were soaked to the bone and very cold as we slowly walked back to the truck. We were thinking of giving up and going back to the camp to sit by a nice, warm fire but then I remembered a piece of land in that area that I had located while scouting in late August. The area had a good diversity of thick forest, an old apple orchard and some great clover fields. The deer sanctuary was just five kilometers up the road from where we were, so we slowly made our way to that area. On our way to the hot spot dad spotted a small doe with a yearling fawn. It was the first deer sighting of the day so we both glassed the field hoping to spot a big buck standing broadside, but to no avail. As we kept making our way to the destination dad said, “Keep your eyes peeled, the deer must be starting to move.” After what felt like forever, dad parked the truck and we decided to watch the wind direction and each check a couple fields and apple trees. Very quietly we got out of the truck, checked our guns and whispered to meet back at the truck after we had thoroughly scoured the area. As the wind blew strong from the north east, I slowly made my way to a small clover patch in the corner of the field that had numerous deer trails leading to the natural food source. All I could picture in my head as I slowly made my way to clover was a big buck feeding with not a worry

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in the world. With a very low whitetail population in the province of New Brunswick, it is a very rare and special occasion to see such a thing, but I knew my chances were better this time of year than at any other time, so I kept dreaming of what could happen. I knew there was a small hot spot ahead that almost always held a few deer. Finally I turned the corner and snuck into position where I could see the spot. I thought

I was sure to see at least one deer feeding, but disappointment quickly set in, as nothing was there. As I returned to the truck I said, “See anything dad?” “Nope, you?” he replied. “Not a thing; let’s go back to the camp and have a bowl of mom’s homemade soup.” It was now 11 o’clock and the wind had calmed down a bit but it was still pouring rain. With the heat on high in the truck and our feet by the vents we slowly got rid of the chills we were feeling and made our way back to the camp. We had just crossed an old covered bridge and we were coming around a sharp turn in the road when we spotted a nice heavy 4x4 standing in a small field. Without even getting the chance to slow down the truck, the mature buck was already in full run to the thick brush. With our adrenaline pumping we quickly parked the truck, checked our guns and planned an ambush on this nice buck that had just made his escape. I followed the same route the deer did and dad went the opposite way just in case the buck circled back around. I quickly lost the tracks in the mud when the deer made its way Matrix Video is complete source for Hunting Video Needs. into thick brush; being a young We understand what is important in selecting the right gear for the outdoorsman hunter without any big buck experience under my belt, I just and our years of experience can guide any need or budget. stood there confused not knowing what my next move should SASKATOON - 306.652.5033 be. As I looked to my side I noContact: Bill Redekop ticed a hidden field not visible billredekop@matrixvideocom.com from the road. The forest ahead was so thick that I couldn’t see 20 Oﬃces in Regina, Vancouver, Victoria, Calgary, Edmonton yards so I figured my best move

TAKE AIM.

WESTERN CANADA’S

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would be to sneak to the edge of the field and hope the buck may cross it. I tried my best to quietly sneak through the forest and to the edge of the field. As I peered through the trees, I noticed a big doe. That got me excited so I huddled down to get a better view and I immediately noticed that she wasn’t alone! I thought to myself “there he is!” I quickly noticed the wind was not in my favor and I needed to put a stalk on him from a different angle. Slowly I moved back into the patch of trees and made my way up the field staying 50 yards inside the tree line of the field. After what felt like an hour, but was only six minutes, I was nearing the position where I thought that I could make a comfortable shot on the buck. As I neared the spot where I would be able to see the deer, I was just hoping the buck would still be standing there. I felt my heart pumped harder and harder as I neared the spot where I would get a sighting. Quietly I crawled on my hands and knees and got behind an old wind fall that would serve as good cover for me. As I put the gun up and peered through the scope I quickly realized it was not the same deer I had seen earlier, it was even bigger! As soon as the buck turned broadside and looked into the field towards me I could see how wide he was. I was so excited that I immediately started shaking with “buck fever”. I then put the gun back down and took a couple deep breaths and told myself to calm down

and make the shot count. The gun went back up and I placed the crosshairs on the monster buck’s vital zone and squeezed the trigger; “BOOM”. The buck dropped in his tracks, it was a great feeling and a moment that I will never forget! As I walked up to the deer, and grabbed the antlers, I noticed the seven inch droptine and 23 inch spread; it was truly the buck of a lifetime and one I am very proud of! I then looked up to see another sight I will never forget, it was my father running towards me, smiling ear to ear. He congratulated me and I thanked him for teaching me everything I know about hunting. That windy, rainy and cold November day will forever be etched into my memory.

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MOOSE LAKE

MONSTER As told by: Ernie Campeau & Jim Moore Written by: Phillip Webb

Ernie Campeau of Dryden, Ontario with a legendary whitetail he killed in the Moose Lake area of Ontario in 1977. As is so often the case, Ernie was focused on filling the freezer when he crossed paths with the giant and put him down with a single shot from his 30-06. The Campeau buck has a gross score of 199 1/8â&#x20AC;? Boone and Crocket, while net scoring 181 2/8â&#x20AC;?. The score on the buck is made up of a number of abnormal points and absolutely huge mass.

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rnie Campeau will never forget the day he harvested his incredible 199 1/8â&#x20AC;? non-typical whitetail. In fact, it has been 36 years and he still remembers every detail as though it were yesterday. Ernie is an accomplished moose hunter, taking nearly every moose he has ever hunted on foot, using the spot and stalk method. Ernie moved to the Dryden, Ontario area in 1971, where he has enjoyed fishing the many lakes the area has to offer, and hunting moose in the fall with his longtime friend and local conservation officer, Jim Moore. He would happily say that he is by no means a trophy hunter, but rather preferred to hunt for the freezer instead of the wall. This is not to say that he would pass on a trophy class animal if given the chance, he just never went out solely seeking them. Prior to the year Ernie shot his buck, a few hard winters had taken its toll on the deer herd in northern Ontario, and predation from wolves had darkened the odds of seeing a trophy even further. It is also notable that the snowfall of the late fall and winter that year was very heavy, leaving 30+ inches of snow in some places. Walking without snowshoes was next to impossible in the forest areas. It was late fall, 1977, when Ernie set out with his hunting partner Jim Moore and his 13 year old son John Moore. They had made a plan early

â&#x20AC;&#x153;He realized immediately that this was a once in a lifetime animal, and would likely be the biggest they would ever hunt.â&#x20AC;? Big Game Illustrated

the day before to head out from the Moore’s cabin on Moose Lake, an early start would be the most important thing. Ernie stayed at his home that night, he remembers thinking about the next day’s hunt and how cold it was outside in the evening. When the morning came it was an early one for Ernie, having him out of bed hours before daybreak and getting ready to make the drive to the Moore’s camp. The whole way out he was thinking that they may not even see a deer, for this year he had been out several times moose hunting and had hardly seen a deer track. Once he arrived at Jim’s cabin they decided to snowmobile to the area the group would hunt that morning. It was roughly two miles away and over some rough terrain. Although Ernie had hunted moose nearly every year, he had hardly ever chased whitetails. Jim on the other hand, had a passion to chase deer and every fall would spend lots of time watching them. Ernie relied on Jim’s experience to a degree, as he was far more comfortable stalking moose through the woods than outsmarting a whitetail buck. They soon set off to the area where they had hoped the deer would be, packing all their gear across the lakes and portages. Once they were close to the area, all three strapped on their snowshoes and began the punishing walk in. The lake edges and timber fingers were flooded with snow that had been trapped in the trees that year. For a short time the wind hardened drifts made walking easier. The group took a few breaks on the way in to adjust their gear and look for sign. Unfortunately for them the sign was very sparse. Through the heavy brush laden shore line they forged into the timber, crossing yet another portage onto a small lake. As they broke the tree line onto the lake, the bitter cold wind

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stung their faces making staring into it next to impossible. At this point the group decided that they would split up leaving Ernie on his own, while Jim and his son ventured on the other side of a large point slicing out onto the ice. “Well at least I will be out of the wind.” Ernie thought to himself, having still not seen any sign on this side of the lake. The snow cracked under his snowshoes as he hiked across the frozen lake, staring along the dark shoreline opposite to his position. It was then that something caught his eye, moving sluggishly through the trees on the side of the point Jim was approaching. “Did they see it?” he thought to himself. Not wanting to call out and alert the animal of their presence, he decided that they had a better chance if they kept the way they were walking. He thought about how far they were from their snowmobiles, and what a drag out of here might have in store. Ernie had packed moose out of the timber laced slashes of Northwestern Ontario plenty of times in the past, and at least today there would be plenty of help. He slowly approached the point, on the opposite side that the Moore’s were heading. Keeping a steady pace, he glanced down at the shiny blue action of his Remington pump. Looking slowly along the shoreline, he studied every shadow and gap between the huge pines that lined the point. He looked over at Jim and John who had obviously, by their pace, not seen the animal creeping along their side of the shore line. Jim and His son now had a considerable lead on Ernie who was slowing down as he neared the trees, the gap widened further when Ernie stopped to check his rifle. Looking up from his rifle, he took notice as Jim and his son disappeared to the other side of the point. Drawing on his past hunting experience, Ernie stopped a few feet past the point staring into the trees and listening to the branches creak in the wind. He thought to himself, if the animal had made it onto the point it may be pushed his way by the noise of the other group. Meanwhile on the other side of the point, Jim spotted the deer

Ernie had seen fleeting across the point in Ernie’s direction. His heart skipped a beat as the tangle of antler made it look more like a woodland caribou than a whitetail, as it disappeared in the swirling snow and brushy pines. Jim realized at that moment that the deer may not run across the point onto the lake, but rather turn and run into the forest. Without a second thought he hurried after it, following the tracks through the brushy point ducking branches as he moved forward. Meanwhile, Ernie was oblivious to the action happening only a couple hundred yards away. He had now moved closer to the shoreline, stepping every few seconds and listening between the crunching sounds of his snowshoes on the hardened blown snow. He watched through the branches with anticipation, the possibilities of a bedded deer hiding from the wind in the shelter of the low hanging pine boughs kept him alert. A heartbeat later his stiff alert state, and slow methodical pace was shattered. A huge 300lb deer came crashing through the trees and brush, launching itself from the tree line onto the frozen lake. Ernie was only about 100yards away at this point, and in an instant focused his scope on the running deer. “I definitely saw a set of horns!” he recalls, I knew for sure that it was a buck. He steadied his rifle on the deer as it ran broadside and squeezed the trigger on his Remington 30-06. With the crack

of his rifle, the deer skidded across the snow to an almost immediate halt. Jim came busting out of the brush moments later. John was not far behind, and they were both looking towards the huge buck in disbelief. The group walked over to the deer, wondering if it had branches tangled in its antlers, and thinking that it must. Surely what they had seen could not have all belonged to the deer. Jim, having many good whitetails to his credit, was as excited as if he had shot the buck himself! He realized immediately that this was a once in a lifetime animal, and would likely be the biggest they would ever hunt. Ernie was very pleased with the tremendous trophy he had just taken as well, and after seeing Jim’s reaction he knew this was a good one. The long drag lasted into the night, hauling the deer inch by inch through the snow. Hours later in the comfort of Ernie’s garage, the trio stood studying the deer’s antlers and massive body size. Ernie Campeau had never been interested in what a deer scored, as to him this was a trophy regardless of what a score sheet said. The Campeau buck sat for well over 10 years before ever having a tape put up to its antlers. Finally, once the numbers were added up the Campeau buck scored 199 1/8 gross Boone and Crockett, while net scoring 191 2/8 non typical! The buck has absolutely huge mass and a number of abnormal points. It is truly a legendary buck.

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JOURNEY OF A HUNTER KAARE GUNDERSON

eople hunt for so many reasons. For some it is simply the need and desire for fine table fare that pushes them. For many it is the camaraderie of getting together with others for that yearly tradition of hunting season. Others like the challenge aspect of things and employ different weapons and tactics. The challenge of the pursuit of a trophy sized animal is what drives others. I don’t know many people that hunt deer that don’t, at least a little, wish to wrap their antler seal on a real monster. However, at the end of the season, most will not have been that lucky, but all of them will have been fortunate in that they were able to go hunting in the manner that they so wish. In hunting whitetails, there isn’t much I haven’t done. I’ve cruised grids with family and or friends. I’ve pushed bush to people waiting as the shooter; I’ve been that shooter with people pushing for me. I’ve sat watching cutlines, I’ve been up a tree, I’ve spotted and stalked animals on the ground, I’ve rattled in bucks, and I’ve sat in a blind. All of them were fun in their own right and taught me something too. With certainty, they’ve taught me what I enjoy most. It’s kind of amusing really that what I enjoy most today is also tied to the very first thing I did that showed me success. That came the day after I got my driver’s licence and was able to go hunting whitetails. I simply wanted to go hunting, I wanted to shoot a buck and that’s exactly what I did. I often find myself thinking about those events in life and how they lead me to where I am now. Luckily, a kind gesture was offered up by a man named Marty Schneider. He had chosen to lend me a 7x57 Mauser. He took me to practice shooting it at his parent’s farm, gave me some bullets and I was off and running....or hunting. I simply drove out to “The Bull Pasture”, and started walking.

I hiked until I found a likely looking spot, a small bluff of poplars, and I waited. I’m still doing the same today, looking for a likely spot, and waiting. Well that day proved to be unlike most days I go out and wait, as it wasn’t long before a single shot from that borrowed rifle had brought down my first buck. I had rested the gun in the crook of a tree and simply let the buck walk right up to me. It’s been years now since I shot a buck that didn’t do the same, walk right up to me while I waited in a spot I decided to plunk myself. I’m thankful Marty lent me that rifle; it was a major step in what I enjoy most today. Simply put, that is getting out on my own, looking for likely spots and hoping the right buck will walk right up to me. Things have changed however, as the goal has changed from a buck, to a big buck, to what it is today, a specific buck. There will always be differing points of view on the topic and nobody can say who is right. Some people are happy just shooting a buck, any buck. Others are seeking a buck with a specific antler score and when that goal is met, they are happy. Everyone hunts for their own reasons and I am not here to tell anyone what to shoot. Shoot what makes you happy and do not worry about what other people think about the buck you have chosen to hang the tag you paid for on. What I know is that for me, the ultimate comes in targeting a specific animal that I have been lucky enough to have had

One of the bucks the author keeps tabs on with his trail camera from Monarch Images. 42

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leave specific pieces of their life for me prior to giving their life itself. This can come in the form of shed antlers, trail cam photos or actual sightings and maybe even blown opportunities. It’s a completely different ball of wax from hunting as I once knew it. I’m not even sure when I became real serious about hunting specific animals I knew were at or very near their prime. In 2006 I shot a buck that I know had grown roughly 70” in two years. I think that was my “Holy Cow” moment where I realized just what specific deer could do if given the opportunity. I know that the following year he would have likely been an even more ridiculously big non typical but heck, he already was. I had nearly made a disastrous mistake the previous year when he was a 190 class 4.5 year old deer. I had a 70” shed off him from when he was 3.5 so I had concrete proof how much certain deer could grow if given the opportunity. There is a lot of truth in the statement “if you wish to kill a giant buck, you What you will begin to see as they get older could be the pocannot shoot him when he is simply a dandy one”. tential to grow extreme inches of antler or it may be a rack In 2004 I had shot an ancient 201” buck. I had pursued him of extreme character and unique traits. One thing is certain for years and looking back on it, it became easy to see what though as they age. The deer himself is going to become much bucks could do if given the chance to reach their prime. He more interesting. He will without a doubt, become very unhad been real big since 6.5 years old but right through until like the majority of bucks. His behaviours will change and he’ll 9.5 years old he maintained impressive size, especially mass. spend less time in the company of other deer. He’ll turn into a In putting the puzzle together it became easy to see that athulking, well muscled beast with far more raw power than the tempting to focus on keeping tabs on specific deer from year bulk of the non hunting population can even begin to underto year, it would be easy to assess which ones had the potential stand. By late fall he will have a tree trunk neck growing out of for great growth or unique character. This new idea put more a deep chest and sagging belly and he will be a warrior more of a challenge into my hunting and in the end yielded greater than willing and able to go to war with any challenger to his rewards for me upon success when it came. If you’re looking right for breeding supremacy. To someone completely enamfor a new challenge to add to your hunting, this one may be oured with whitetails, like myself, an old buck is completely a one you wish to explore. different species, an even better one. Over the years I’ve been lucky enough to have had many In the next half of this article I hope to share the stories of bucks leave pieces of their puzzle for me to try and piece tomany of these older bucks I’ve been lucky enough to hunt. gether. Far more of these have disappeared without a trace Most of them do not hold a place in my trophy room and that than the ones whose final outcome I am certain of. And of is okay, I was lucky enough to be able to pursue them and I at these, very few really, have actually met their demise at the least have that. If you’re interested in no longer just hunting hands of the mad man who had spent countless hours plotting bucks, but want to throw a new element into it and wish to their demise....myself. target older, specific deer then stay tuned. If nothing else, those I know lots of folks that would scoff at me for putting a name deer, they deserve to have their stories told. to the bucks I choose to hunt. However, that makes it easier for myself to refer to them and I hope most readers can look past that much like I choose to look past the names One of the best parts of letting the deer in some people give their vehicles or other material things. your area grow to their potential is picking ‘Blade’ was shot by another hunter. I’m pretty sure ‘Big up their sheds every eyar. G2’ simply died of old age. ‘Double D’ hangs on my wall, ‘The Big 4’ was shot by my friend Bill. ‘Stickers’ I should have killed last year with my bow but I blew my chance. I’m pretty sure he was shot in rifle season by another lucky hunter. If ‘Short G2’ got shot by another hunter, which is indeed possible, I have no idea who it was. I know that ‘Silly big for his age 6x5’ was shot by a hunter from Calgary, while ‘Split Ear’ died an ancient death. The list is bigger, but not as big as I would like really. You simply do not see many bucks that reach 4.5 years of age or more, the time they are really worth paying attention to. It is only then that they really begin to show what they are capable of, or not capable of producing on their head. Big Game Illustrated

J K BY: TED GLASRUD

t was early September when my son Hunter had returned to our cabin after swapping the memory cards from our numerous game cameras we have scattered on our small acreage in NW Wisconsin. As he had done weekly since early July, he preceded to view the pictures on each card, cataloging pictures of the larger bucks for further analysis. This analysis had worked a year earlier, allowing us to pattern and harvest by bow my largest buck ever, a 150-class beauty we had nicknamed “the big nine.” I didn’t pay too much attention to his viewing the pictures until all of a sudden his demeanor changed and he excitedly, but very seriously said, “Dad, You gotta come over here and see this!” I could hear in his voice that I had better go and take a look. I set down my hunting magazine and walked over to the desk. I expected to see a good buck, and one that we would chase that fall, but nothing could prepare me for what I saw on the computer screen that day. I stopped behind Hunter and we both sat there in silence for the next minute. We both just stared at the screen, silent, with jaws dropped, trying to process what we were seeing before us and how we should react. Before us was a black-and-white nighttime picture of the largest buck that we had ever seen, or photographed, or ever heard of on or near our property! The points were too numerous to count and the mass was beyond words. When we finally recovered enough to be able to speak, we named the buck “Mr. Junk”. As we talked, we hoped that he might be living on our property and not just passing through. The early time of year suggested that his core range must include our property, yet many game cameras and thousands of pictures over prior years had not revealed this buck to us. This left us with more questions than answers, but an incredible amount of excitement for the upcoming season.

“The points were too numerous to count a

Hunter Glasrud with the once in a lifetime buck he and his father had named Mr.Junk. The incredible deer has 30 scorable points and ended up with a gross score of 237 6/8”! The mass on Hunter’s buck is second to none with H3’s of 6 3/8” and 7 4/8”. Despite an inside spread of only 17 5/8”, the greatest spread is 23 1/8” and both main beams still reach out over 26”. Mr.Junk certainly earned his nickname with 61 4/8” of abnormal points.

t and the mass was beyond words.”

We got some of our answers later that month as we captured a number of other pictures of Mr. Junk on multiple cameras and on multiple days. He was certainly living in our area and we were now confident that we may just have an opportunity to hunt this buck. On September 22, we got our first daytime pictures of him, eating acorns in a small oak grove. The location was right under a new treestand we had place earlier that summer! My son and I were ecstatic and were now beginning to think that harvesting the massive buck may be a real possibility. We wanted the chance to harvest him, and we decided then and there that we were going to hunt extremely carefully, saving certain stands for the rut, hunting individual stands only when the wind was exactly right and generally not overhunting any one stand or area. In order for a buck to get as big and old as this buck clearly was, he had to be a very wary deer, and we did want to educate him or spook him out of the area by being overly aggressive too early. The archery season opened on a Saturday in mid-September. Fast forward three weeks to early October, three weekends into the season, and we had only sat on stand a couple of times. Part of this was due to our careful hunting strategy and part was due to the high school football season. Wisconsin’s special two-day youth firearm season fell on October 6th and 7th and Hunter (15) and his younger sister Hailey (14) planned to hunt. The siblings sat together on a clover field the evening of the 6th, and Hunter was determined to be with Hailey when she shot her first deer. Although they saw many does and a few young bucks that evening, Hailey never had a shot she was comfortable with. The two had an enjoyable hunt 46

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together even though they did not use their tags that day. The next morning, Hailey wanted to sleep in. The wind was perfect for one of our ladder stands overlooking a swamp where we had photos of Mr. Junk. Hunter went out early and was set well before first light while Hailey and I lounged in the warmth of the cabin. As always, Hunter texted me to confirm that he was safely in his stand and tethered to the tree. At 8:15am he phoned me. When I saw the call come in, I knew something must be up. I knew Hunter would not break silence in the deer woods without good cause. I hoped that perhaps it was good news. “I just shot a huge buck!” Hunter whispered. “How huge?” I replied Then he said the words that I was hoping for so badly, “Huge. I think it must be Mr. Junk! I think I saw him go down about 75 yards away, in the swamp.” I knew that there would be no mistaking Mr. Junk, and I was more excited for Hunter than if I had shot the buck myself. After a little more conversation, Hailey and I quickly dressed, pulled the atv from the garage and drove roughly a mile to the base of Hunter’s stand. He worked his way down and relayed the rest of the story. After a relatively quiet morning, two does had emerged from the swamp chased by a young buck. The three deer ran out of the swamp, around Hunter’s stand, back to the swamp, and then repeated the circuit. The young buck was chasing the does in preparation for the upcoming rut and all of this activity apparently got Mr. Junk on his feet and out of the swamp. As soon as Hunter saw the incredible deer appear out of the swamp, he knew it had to be Mr. Junk. Unbelievably, Mr. Junk

simply walked out of the swamp to check out the area where the does had been and Hunter was presented with an easy 75 yard shot! He did not waste any time and took the shot. He was immediately confident that his shot was true! The buck ran back into the swamp and then Hunter saw him disappear, but was unsure if he dropped or just disappeared into the thick swampy terrain.

Hunter led the way and just as he was saying â&#x20AC;&#x153;This is where I last saw him,â&#x20AC;? we all noticed a huge main beam with countless tines shooting up to the sky in all directions, mere yards from where we were standing. The buck was indeed down, and right where Hunter had last seen him! The shot placement was absolutely perfect and the incredible deer just made it back to his safe haven of the swamp before collapsing and quickly expiring on the spot. We said a short prayer, tagged the animal, and took several field pictures and some video so that we could all remember the incredible ending to a season that none of us will ever forget. We took the enormous buck to a registration station in the small community where our property is located. There were easily a couple hundred people who stopped by to see the buck. While it was hard not to feel some sense of pride during this exposition, my strongest feeling was one of community. This was not our buck; it was the communityâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s animal and one that the whole community should be proud of. Any one of our neighbors could have been the one to harvest this animal. It just happened that on this day fate chose my son Hunter to be in the right place at the right time.

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FRIDAY THE

13th

BY: SAVANNA KOEBISCH

Savanna Koebisch proudly poses with her first archery whitetail. Spectacular brow tines and symmetry are her buckâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s strong points. Below: Practice makes perfect! Savanna polishing her skills using a target at home in Alberta.

he sun scorching through the stand’s window seemed determined to burn me. My enclosed tower blind had transformed into a sauna and the babbling watercourse a few hundred yards away only increased the agony of the heat. Surprisingly, Alberta was, for once, experiencing near tropical weather! 30 degrees above felt quite balmy for deer hunting, but I would take it over a wintery 30 below any day. The weekend marked my last chance to pursue whitetails this season before I moved to Germany for university. Once there, mainly roe deer and wild boar would fill my sights. On top of that, it’s prohibited to bow hunt where I’m relocating to. Just another reason why I plan on returning to Alberta for my holidays. Today was Friday the 13th, and for some reason I felt lucky. Pack-

ing lots of water, and stopping for the occasional ice cream on the drive to my blind, I could hardly believe the thermometer. Patiently waiting, my enclosed bow in the back seat was poised for action. Two springs ago I shot my first archery animal, a chocolate black bear. Ever since then I was fascinated by bow hunting, but due to school rarely had the opportunity for early season outings. Now I trudged in the direction of our homemade stand which we assembled this spring. Using Elevators by Shadow Hunter, we constructed a platform on which to build our custom enclosed blind. The dimensions were exactly what we needed, and the paint job was quite extraordinary I might add. It was hard to tell it was done using spray paint while a mild Big Game Illustrated

hurricane force wind diffused the colour into the gale. Now in position at 5:30, it was a stagnant wait. Of course I had a book along by my favourite author, Wilbur Smith, so the time passed quickly. Occasionally I would escape from the African story of wartime, women and wealth to glance up and glass the surrounding fields and tree-line. Every now and then my heart would skip a beat when I looked and there were deer feeding across the open. A skittish doe and her curious fawn casually made their way across the meadow, following a natural travel corridor which leads them from one forest point to the next. Half an hour later two young bucks appeared far off in the distance, but unfortunately became distracted and fed off in the opposite direction. Peeling my eyes away from the pages once again, I was thrilled to find a buck making his way towards my blind. He too was following the well worn path which winds underneath where I was sitting. I exchanged my book for my bow, and prepared for a shot. He walked past and stopped to sniff around, but quartering towards me, the angle he offered was inadequate for archery tackle. Suddenly his stretched out neck stiffened and his white tail rose like a flag: the tell tale signs that he was nervous and leaving. It couldn’t have been my scent which spooked him, because today the wind was in my favour. Then the culprit came trotting along. A smug looking blonde coyote gave the buck a reason to run for it. At that moment, I was quite cross with the small predator. Why I spared his life out of the kindness of my heart, I’ll never know. Bounding to around 150 yards away, the buck kept a critical eye on the coyote until it had disappeared out of sight. Then, unsettled in the open field, and intent on following his original game plan, the buck began creeping back in my direction. I could hardly believe my eyes and good fortune as he closed the distance. Good thing I hadn’t shot that coyote! Hurriedly I snatched my Diamond Razor Edge bow back up and got ready for the second time. I could see that he was a decent buck, I just wasn’t sure exactly how big he was. In fact, I decided I was absolutely horrific at judging whitetails. One thing was for sure though, his main beams framed two towering brow tines. He was a shooter! As he was nearing the stand, I heard a rustle coming from my behind me. Wouldn’t you know it, there was a doe coming from downwind of me. I winced as I awaited that 50

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ever annoying snort and sure enough she busted me. Thanks Friday the 13th! Of course the buck would take off, wouldn’t he? I craned my neck sideways to sneak a peak. He was still coming towards me! As I prepared, I remembered what my experienced bow hunting friends had advised me. If he’s between 25 and 30 yards, use the 30 pin and hold low on the heart. Good thing I had asked, because the buck stopped at what I ranged to be 28 yards. My muscles twitched with anticipation as I looked for a shot opportunity. It was approaching the end of legal shooting time; it was do or die. As he swirled away, I found my anchor point and locked my pin on him. Since he was quartering away sharply, I had to hold uncomfortably far back on his ribcage as I aimed for his opposite shoulder. I hoped that my 45 lbs draw weight would give the arrow enough penetration. Cut on impact broadheads would help. Despite all my practice, my muscles still weren’t capable of pulling much more. Even this pushed the maximum of my current capabilities. Since I was using Lumenoks I was able to watch my arrow bury itself up to the fletching. The buck’s hasty departure was highlighted by the red light gyrating off into the distance. Only then did I realize how much I was shaking. Never before had I experienced buck fever like this, not even with my record book bighorn! He ran 80 yards and then his stride slowed drastically. Nearing 100 yards away he abruptly collapsed into a heap and was swallowed up by the tall grass. Understandably, I was absolutely ecstatic. My first bow kill deer! While I waited an excruciatingly long 30 minutes before picking up the trail and marked spot where he fell, I texted my parents and some friends to share the news. It was finally time to walk up to my buck. As I tracked the blood trail, casting the occasional glimpse around me to watch

for that vexing coyote, I could have just as well been walking on clouds. The Lumenok was still shining brightly and led me towards him. One glance at his antlers, and I knew that I had grossly underestimated his size. What a rarity! A way better feeling than ground-shrinkage! Lack of a blink reflex prompted a pent-up whoop of joy into the now star studded night sky. The arrow had punctured the aorta and collapsed the lungs, sticking out on the opposite shoulder. Entering just behind the last rib and then exiting between two others, undoubtedly contributed to better than expected penetration. I’d grown up 18 years waiting for this first successful solo hunt. As noticed, his brows were exceptional (over 8 inches) and his mass was impressive. An old buck indeed, as confirmed later by his worn molars. Also verified, was that we recognized this buck from somewhere. Turns out we had captured him posing for our trail camera two weeks prior. There were four “shooter” bucks in this area which we were targeting, and sure enough this guy was one of them. Mom and Dad are after the others.Tags were snatched out of my backpack and swiftly put on my buck. This was the fifth whitetail I’d shot, and the biggest! Not even my rifle kills could compare with this guy, and that made it even more special. What an evening, and what an adventure.

Hunting by myself and having to judge the buck, check the wind, measure the distance and call the shot was new to me. I’ve been hunting extensively since an early age, but always with family or friends. This solo hunting was nothing like I’d ever experienced before. A call to my parents was placed, since my tiny 105 lbs stature was just a bit too petite to drag the large buck back to my truck. Many pictures were snapped, as always, and memories were stored away for recounting around campfires someday. Recovering the buck and taking him back to the vehicle was a difficult task, but luckily we brought a game cart along and that assisted immensely. On the ride home I chattered like the annoying monkeys we have seen in Africa, but nobody was cruel enough to stop me. In a family that hunts together, your success is their success and vice versa. It was 4 am by the time my head hit the pillow, but I was still buzzing from the day’s events. At home we processed and measured him the next day, revealing an estimate score of 145. He had very few deductions thanks to his symmetry. Fillet with a mushroom sauce, mashed potatoes and herb veggies sure tasted fine! No longer will Friday the 13th be a spooky day for me, rather one which brings good luck and big bucks!

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Brad resetting a shoe on ‘Ol Rip

GOOD LUCK BY CHRIS PARENTEAU

Chris Parenteau with his two huge whitetails that he was able to take in back to back seasons. His 2011 whitetail on the left is a typical 5x6 with a gross score of 183 1/8” and easily makes the record book with net score of 176 5/8. His 2012 whitetail on the right has 16 scorable points and a greatest spread of 22 6/8”. The big non-typical ended up with a gross score of 191 1/8” and even after deductions still scored up nicely with a net score of 185 7/8”. There were not likely many hunters in North America who killed two bigger deer in 2011 and 2012. He is going to have his work cut out for him to continue that streak into 2013! 52

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Above: Chris with his big typical shortly after he downed it. If the big deer would have grown a matching G5 it would have easily netted over 180â&#x20AC;? as a typical 6x6.

Left: One of the trail camera pictures of the giant non-typical that haunted Chris through the 2012 season. It took alot of patience and a couple close calls before he was finally able to close the deal on the smart old buck.

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he 2011 season was one of big changes. I found a new area that looked like it could hold some big deer. After numerous scouting trips I had an idea where the deer were traveling. The area was on the edge of a big forest and there were a few locations where the deer filtered out of the big timber and onto the agricultural fields to eat. It was in one of these locations where I setup my blind. My son Oakley and I built the blind during the summer. While we were painting some white poplars on it, my mom stopped by and asked “Why are you painting that cactus on there”? From then on it has been known as the ‘cactus shack’. I was really excited for the season to get underway but after a number of sits without seeing anything, I was beginning to doubt my strategy. However, after talking with a bunch of my hunting buddies, I discovered things were slow all over and nobody was seeing much. It was a strange year, with very warm temperatures and no snow, even though it was early November in Saskatchewan. Despite the slow start, I kept my trail cameras going, and eventually I captured pictures of two decent bucks. The only problem was the only pictures were during the middle of the night! Despite our slim chances, Oakley and I sat in the cactus shack every chance we had. Oakley was excited to get a chance at his first buck. After a few more sites with little action, Oakley was getting impatient and freezing his feet. It seemed every time we could get away for a sit was always the coldest days. We toughed it out but did not have much luck throughout the 5 week rifle season. With the season winding down, and the year starting to look bleak, I was looking for a change of pace. There was not much time left and all of the bucks on my trail cameras were nocturnal so I met up with a few hunting buddies to ‘push bush’ and get deer moving, and hopefully get some shooters up and moving during the day. Saturday morning, November 19th, I picked up my friends Adam and Matt Pilon well before first light to go for an early morning scouting session. As happened throughout most of the season, we only saw a handful of does. With the frustration setting in, we met up with another group of friends to start pushing bush. I was posted on the first bush, while my friends pushed through the buck. As I

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sat and waited, I had thoughts of a big buck coming out and wondered if I would remember what a big buck looked like after not seeing any all year. I noticed some of the pushers coming out of the other side, and they had not pushed a single deer out. ‘What a poor start!’ I thought to myself! We regrouped and hit a second bush. I was a pusher this time. As I was walking through the bush, I could hear the deer running ahead and around me. I kept pushing, hoping that one of the posted hunters would get a shot. However, there were no shots fired. It was such a warm November day that we were all sweating in our bulky hunting gear, but we regrouped and made a plan. The posted hunters said that a lot of deer came out of the bush, a whole bunch of whitetail and mule deer does, along with a huge mule deer buck! ‘Where the heck are all the whitetail bucks?’ I thought to myself, ‘They have to be somewhere around here. After some discussion, the posted hunters thought that most of the whitetail does had all ran into one specific bush, so we decided to push it hoping it held a buck or two. Matt and I posted up on the bush, waiting for our friends to push any deer out. I had pushed it before so I had a good idea where most of the deer came out, and I told Matt to setup there. He was on the northeast side, while I hiked further and setup on the southeast side. After we had been sitting for a while, I could see the pushers getting closer. I was beginning to think nothing was going to come out. Then, all at once, I heard two shots ring out from Matt’s direction! That caught my attention and I refocused on the bush to try and spot any more bucks. I spotted one, then two, then three bucks! They

were all 130-140 class bucks came out between Matt and me. I looked across, hoping Matt must have got the big one, but I didn’t see any reaction. Then a big buck appeared out of nowhere, running along a strip of willows where the others came from. I looked through my scope and noticed a huge buck

with long browtines that filled the scope! I instantly knew this was a really good buck, and I could feel my heart beating through my chest while buck fever kicked in. All I could see was his chest, and he was still coming straight at me! ‘Take the shot or wait for a better angle?’ I thought to myself. Finally at 50 yards, I had to do something so I whistled and the buck turned broadside and stopped, looking at the area where the other bucks went. Bang! A big puff of hair went flying in the perfect position and he dropped in his tracks! I jumped up and knew it was biggest buck of my life. I couldn’t believe I had dropped him right there and was already thinking of walking up to such a great buck. Then something terrible happened, the big buck got up and ran away! Luckily, he had to cross a big opening and I was able to get a second shot away before the buck made it to the trees. This time he was down for good. As I walked over to him, I noticed he got bigger and bigger! There was no ground shrinkage. All the guys came over and we all celebrated! I asked Matt if he shot one too? I could instantly tell by look on face that he missed this same buck. He explained that he had missed that buck at close range! His safety was on when he tried to shoot and then two shots missed him. I felt bad for Matt, who was a first year hunter, thinking how I would feel. However, I did not have to feel bad for long because Matt made up for it later in the year shooting an incredible non typical who was locked up with a big 5x6. The only unfortunate part of the story is that my son Oakley was at school and missed the experience. We sat every chance we had but he ended the season without tagging a buck and would have to wait another year for the 2012 season.

The 2012 Season

he 2012 season began with a summer of scouting. I was determined to get onto some good deer from the cactus shack blind. After numerous trips to the area, I found a new spot to setup my blind; it was about a mile away. The location was a funnel through the thick brush and was right where I thought the deer seemed to be first coming out in the open. In early September I made my way in and setup trail cameras. The first couple weeks were very slow, but in late September I started to get some pictures of some good buck. One particular deer, a huge non-typical started showing up regularly, but always at night. He had been on the trail cameras is 2011, but had put on a huge amount of bone and I was committed to hunting this one particular buck. Once October 1st rolled around, Oakley and I spent every chance we got setup in the cactus shack with our muzzleloaders. I spent every day in the blind, and the longest stretch during the season was 21 days straight in the blind! I knew the only way to get the big nocturnal buck was to sit every chance I got and hope that once the rut began getting closer, he would make a mistake. Then, one day in early November, it all came together! I was in blind with Oakley when the big non-typical

appeared like a ghost on the edge of the treeline. He just stood there, eyeing up all the does and small bucks. I found him in the scope, but he was facing towards me and there was a lot of brush in the way. I held off and waited, he only had to take one more step to clear the brush! Then, I watched in horror as Big Game Illustrated

he whirled around and ran back into the bush! A small buck came running into the area from the other side of the blind and spooked him. I couldn’t help think that maybe I should have taken the shot, but it was risky and looking back now I am happy I didn’t take it.

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Over the next couple weeks, my Dad, Oakley and I all hunted the blind and we saw a lot of deer. However, none of us took any shots as we were committed to hold out for mature deer. One day I had a great 5x5 come in when I was by myself, but I had my mind made up to take nothing but the non-typical. On November 20th I met my cousin Dean and his girlfriend Jackie in the morning. They were hunting in another blind across the pasture from me so it was a competition to see who would get the big one first, if anyone. It was still dark when we went our separate ways heading for a long days sit. Looking back, I remember it was a great day with lots good action, small bucks, and ‘ol crooked ear’ doe. She is the big, dominant doe in the area and in very recognizable because she was one ear that is paralyzed and just hangs down from her head. Deer after deer came through the area, but no sign of the big non-typical. Then, as I peered down the path where he had appeared before, there he was! It was a replay of last time, except he stood a few steps deeper into the brush. There were many trees and a lot of brush in the way so I had no shot once again! He stood for 20 minutes, right on the edge and only 10 feet from a clear shooting lane. Then the old crooked ear

doe came walking in right passed him and he couldn’t resist. He immediately followed her! I wasted no time and with one well-placed shot, he dropped on the spot. Once I was sure he was down, I called Dean. I just remember saying over and over again, ‘I got the big one!’ I could not believe it; all of my hard work had finally paid off! Walking up to the big deer, I could not believe the size of his huge frame! The next weekend, Oakley, my dad and I went out again. We sat all day again and at about 4pm the big 5x5 came out following the same tracks as my buck had come out on. Oakley was excited but was still able to make a perfect shot and he dropped the big deer in the same spot as mine. I would like to say a thank you to Aunty Linda and Uncle Paul Blanchard for accommodating me while hunting out there. I would also like to thank my taxidermist Nathan Martin at Wild by Nature taxidermy and Eddie Pelletier for plowing a road into the area so I could get anywhere close to my blind with the 3’ of snow in late November of 2012. Most of all, I want to thank my wife Jenn for allowing me to do what I love!

Chris gets out hunting with his son whenever possible. Here is his son Oakley with his first evver whitetail, a great 5x5.

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Bull of a Lifetime! BY: MADISON GARRY

Shawn Danychuk Photo

t all started when my family and I found out that I was drawn for elk in my top choice of zones. Not only was it my top choice, but also one that is known for some giant elk! My dad actually has a set of sheds that scores 370” and we were hoping the bull was still around somewhere and that we could get a look at him with his antlers still on his head. We started scouting in late July with my uncle, Andy Coulter, and a good friend of my dad’s, Jason Cross. They showed us some new country. During all of our scouting, we didn’t see any elk but they showed us some good places where they should be, so we had an idea where to start. My dad spent a lot of time out in the area trying to locate a good bull to hunt in the weeks following. By early August we knew where there were some good bulls and one giant bull! My grandpa, Adam Schmidt, knew some different country out in the same area that held lots of elk. So he and my dad went scouting there a week before the season just in case the spots we had picked out had too much hunting pressure. This second area would be our backup plan.

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On opening day we got up at 3am to drive to the morning spot which is about 1 hour away from home. About a minute after stepping out of the truck we heard a bull bugling! So we started walking towards the bull and 100 yards in front of us we saw a bull cross the trail. We kept walking towards the bugling and we could hear a bull thrashing the bushes. As we looked over to our right we saw a bunch of cows out in the field about 75 yards away. We crouched down hoping the bull would cross the trail on his way to go to the cows. We sat for about 10 minutes and gave a couple of cow calls. After no sign of the bull, my dad stood up to check the field again and there was a giant bull standing on a hill! We slowly and carefully stalked close to try get a shot, but he slowly disappeared behind the hill. We sat there for a bit and the bull kept calling from back in the bush, so we decided to go in after him. We found a nice spot to call from and began to give a few soft cow calls. Shortly after we started to cow call we could hear an elk coming at us, and he was coming fast! We thought for sure that it was a bull coming, but it was just a cow.

Madison Garry with his first ever elk, a 376” giant! The inside spread of the big 6x8 bull is only 31 7/8’, but it quickly makes up for that with extremely long fronts including four points over 21”. Main beams reach out 43 5/8” and 47 6/8”. The young hunter is going to have a very hard time topping the 2012 season after taking such an incredible animal. We kept going after the bull and got to within about 30 yards of him, but he disappeared too fast for a good shot! After the close call, we headed back for the truck and headed home for the day to wait for the evening hunt. At about 4 pm we went out to sit in a different spot. We saw two spikers, lots of cows, and two bigger bulls; one was around 300”! They were too far for a shot so we kept looking around the area to try and spot any other elk. When we looked across the valley, about 3/4 of a mile away, we saw a huge bull elk with two cows! We watched him for ten minutes and then he vanished. We had no way to get to him.

The next morning we were up at 3am again. We went back to our morning spot. The only thing we saw was two decent whitetail bucks in velvet but no sign of any elk. We headed back to the truck and decided to try to figure out how to get where we had seen the giant bull the night before. We headed home till the evening sit. That afternoon, we left early so that we could find a place to sit and then cut some shooting lanes and make sure I had a solid rest. After a couple hours, we heard a bull down in the valley bugle and then start thrashing trees. At about 6pm a spiker came out of the valley to eat. We watched him for about 30 minutes as he fed 40 yards away. Big Game Illustrated

All of a sudden we could hear something coming up the valley towards us. Not too long afterwards we saw two cows and a huge bull come into the field about 40 yards away! However, we could still hear the bull thrashing in the valley. I asked my dad if it was the big bull from the night before, he said ‘No but it’s a big bull!’ I was getting more and more excited! The bull walked out in the field 20 yards away and then turned to start heading back to the valley. I got ready to shoot but before I could shoot my dad stopped him with a cow call. The huge bull was standing broadside at 60 yards. Then, just as I was about to shoot, I started shaking violently. I took a deep breath to try and calm down and then I shot. As the shot rang out, the bull started to run so I ran the bolt back and forth but to my surprise the bolt came right out of the gun! Luckily the bull ran

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50 yards and stopped. We got the bolt back in and I took aim and shot again. The bull ran a bit more but then lay down. As we started walking towards him, he got up and started to run. He went 30 yards and stopped again so I shot again. He bolted off again about 50 yards and stopped, looking towards us, so I shot him again and he went down. I could not believe it!!!! After a finishing shot, we admired his antlers, took some pictures and got him tagged up. We headed back to the truck and there was another hunter there that had heard the shots and come to see what we shot. He said it was a ‘smoker’, and offered to help but we had a few friends close by that said they would help us. After the hunter left we called friends Jason Cross and John Leibrecht to help us out. Not too long after we got

it out of the field, the guy we met earlier was back with his brother, to see the bull. They couldn't believe the size of him! We gutted the bull and loaded him up in the truck. When we finally got him home, my dad Cory and grandpa Grant Garry skinned him out. It was 1am before I got to bed that night. I had been up for 22 hours straight and it was the night before the first day back to school and just started grade 9! As I was at school my dad took the elk to a good friend and at Cuss Creek taxidermy. Heath Dreager called and wanted to come measure the antlers to make it official. After a few hours of scoring we found out that it made the Saskatchewan record book as a typical and a non-typical. The gross score was 376 inches, we also found out that there were a few guys hunting that elk for a few years and last year the bull was shot in the neck, but he survived! The guy we met on the road was

actually also hunting the same bull. The day after I shot the elk it seemed like everyone knew about it. I am very proud of this animal, and the way that it was shared with my dad, grandpa, and friends.

Photo by Hamilton Greenwood. Big Game Illustrated

VELVET DREAM BUCKS

BY: JUSTIN CLARK

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Justin Clark from Calgary, Alberta, killed giant velvet bucks in that province in consecutive years of 2011 and 2012. A mature vlvet mule deer buck, with their sharp eyesight, sensitive hearing and habit of living in rugged terrain are an extremely difficult animal to harvest, let alone do it in back to back years! Above: Justin’s big buck, taken in 2011, ended up with a gross score of 195”. Left: A spectacular non-typical mule deer taken by Justin in 2012. The non-typical brute has a huge typical frame and stickers everywhere resulting in a gross score of 217 5/8”. Part 1

he adventure that eventually led to me taking my first velvet mule deer began with a phone call from a good friend who had a giant typical mule deer on the radar. As he excitedly explained every detail of the deer, its habits, and how he thought we could move in for the kill, I became convinced that this was something I wanted to be a part of. So on the opening weekend of the season we met up to try and track down his big typical. As we made the drive to the area, my thoughts drifted to another deer we had observed in the middle

of summer. It was a gnarly, old non-typical mule deer. It was early and he still had a lot of growing to do, but it was already evident that he was going to be a good one. As we made the long drive in the dark of the early morning of September, my thoughts drifted back and forth between the two target bucks we had in mind. I was focused on them, although was also ready to be on full alert in case a new buck came out of nowhere and required a closer look. As the darkness finally began to lift, we were bouncing along a gravel road, getting closer Big Game Illustrated

to our destination. The anticipation that an opening hunt always brings was building and building. As I looked out across the field, I noted a big set of antlers in a draw. It was a long ways off, but worth a second look. With the thick brush, it was difficult to get a good look, but we determined it definitely was not the big typical that we had initially planned to hunt, so we continued on with our plan in place. We both made sure to take mental note of the location, as a late morning stalk was in order if the morning hunt did not turn up any other big deer. We got to the area that held the big typical and started to hike into his core area with hopes of catching a glimpse of him before he bedded down. Sure enough, as if by design, we spotted the big buck slowly walking in a draw in the middle of a wheat field. The draw had a few clumps of small trees so we watched until he looked to bed down right under one of the clumps. The wheat was tall, but planted with wide spacing. “This was too easy, too perfect”, I thought to myself. I stayed behind to keep an eye on things and direct the stalk as my friend did his best to sneak close enough to the early season, velvet buck to get a clean shot with his bow. As the stalk progressed, I kept an eye on the small clump of trees but did not see anything. “The big buck is taking his last nap,” I thought to myself. Finally, my friend was at the edge of the wheat and crept along into the draw, staying low. I would see the back of his head, or backpack, once in a while but otherwise he was invisible, as was the buck. Finally, he was in position. I assumed that he was watching the buck, but very slowly he kept creeping along closer and closer, and closer! I thought he must be right on top of the buck but still nothing. I could see his

head come up and scan and I knew he was looking for the deer. Like those big mule deer will do, he must have given us the slip. Just as I thought that, the next clump of trees exploded with activity as the buck had spotted him and took off like he knew his life was in danger. After that disappointment, we needed a way to redeem ourselves so we headed back to where we had noticed the buck lying in the draw on the way out. With the bright light of late morning, we hoped to get a better look at him if he was still there. Sure enough, as soon as I started glassing I found him in exactly the same spot, and he looked good! I immediately geared up and got ready for the stalk while my buddy stayed behind this time to observe and signal, if needed. The field was widely spaced, tall wheat again, perfect for a stalk and there was a stiff breeze in my face. I began to think confidently that I would close the deal no problem, and then remembered the blown stalk earlier that morning and committed to staying focused. As I ranged his antler tips, the distance got shorter and shorter 74 yards, 52, 38, 25. Something was telling me to keep getting closer so I closed the distance to 18 yards and got ready. Just then his head snapped up and I knew that he was on the verge of busting me. I quickly drew back my bow and got ready. I held where I thought his shoulder would be when he stood. Sure enough, he quickly stood and was going to take off. As he stood I released the arrow and it found its mark behind the front shoulder. The buck ran off but only made it 30 yards into the field when he began to drop as if he was going down a flight of stairs and then disappeared into the wheat. As soon as he dropped, there was a lot of yelling going on. As I walked up, he kept getting bigger and bigger! We took out the camera and switched it on, only to see the battery light blinking. We managed to snap a few quick pictures, tag the deer and then headed out to talk to the farmer and see which direction he wanted us to drag the deer out. Then something nerve wracking happened. When we went to pick up the deer he was gone! We were sure we were in the right spot half a dozen times Justin spends countless hours in and after an hour and a half of searching, the field and always has many we still hadn’t located the deer! After good bucks scouted out such as a few more tense moments, we finally those in the scouting pictures located him and quickly hauled him out on the pages of his story. of there and safely into the box of the truck!

Big Game Illustrated

Part 2

he summer of 2012 was fairly good in terms of scouting for big deer. Throughout July and early August I managed to pattern some pretty good mule deer and a couple whitetails that were promptly put onto the hitlist. The week before the season started, all of the mule deer just simply disappeared. As a result, I planned to hunt whitetails. The first morning of the season had my plan working out perfectly. As the sun slowly began to peek over the horizon, a big whitetail buck appeared in the tall canola and I watched him feed through the spotting scope for the better part of two hours. Finally, he decided to bed down in a small draw on the edge of the field. After a survey of the area for landmarks and triple checking the exact location where he was bedded, the stalk was on! An hour and a half later I was ranging the tips of his antlers at fifty yards. The wind was still in my face, but it had slowed to a whisper and the field was dead silent. I was confident enough in a 50 yard shot, but decided I would try and close the distance another ten yards. As soon as I began moving again, the big buck spooked and jumped up from his bed. I was in good position hidden by the tall, still green crop so I drew back and slowly stood up and out of the canola. The canola was tall

so I aimed a bit high to keep the arrow out of the crop. As I released my arrow, it looked like it was going to be a perfectly placed shot until it sailed just over his back and was harmlessly swallowed up by the crop. I disappointedly watched him run off to the far edge of the field, and then I turned and headed back to the truck. When I was nearly back at the truck, I kicked up a 170â&#x20AC;?, 3 point mulie, with beams as heavy as my forearm. After a quick scout through the area, I met up with a buddy. As I described the mass on the big three point mulie, I could tell he definitely wanted to try a stalk. We made a plan to meet up in the evening at the last spot where I saw him, and see if we could locate him again. We met up at 4pm and headed out. We settled in and glassed the area, searching for the massive old buck. There were lots of small bucks around, but nothing we wanted to go after. We knew the area, and decided to hike across the field to a tiny draw at the far end, which held a small pool of water. We had often observed deer travelling through the draw so thought it was worth a try. Sure enough, as soon as the draw was visible, we could see there was a good buck bedded there. He was in a position that would make for an easy stalk. He was standing sideways so he Big Game Illustrated

was difficult to judge. A quick look in the binos had us convinced that he was a 4 pointer, but maybe a young deer. We figured maybe a 180” frame, but big potential! We decided to head out of the area and move on. Just before we left I decided to take a few pictures through the spotting scope, just in

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case anyone shot him, or if we found him again next year. As the deer turned from a sideways pose to look directly at me, I instantly noticed at least 20-30” of junk on his big frame! The deer immediately laid down right after the look as if to say ‘come and get me’ I decided then and there that I wanted to kill him. The stalk was on, with the other guys standing up high to watch the deer and guide me in if necessary. The wind was in my face, and with every step he kept getting bigger and bigger! I must have ranged him 200 times on the way in and finally my rangefinder said 52 yards. I did not have much cover left so was just deciding what to do when he suddenly stood up! He was not looking at me, until I drew and then he shot a look my way. I looked carefully and saw he was not on high alert; his ears were still facing behind him so I decided to take the shot. I let ‘er rip and instantly thought I shot under him. He ran a short ways and stopped, I ranged him again at 54 yards and he just stood there. I looked down and reloaded an arrow, thinking I was going to get a second chance! However, when I looked up he was gone and I thought I blew it. Then I heard a strange noise and it took me a moment to realize it was my friends who had watched the whole thing. They were jumping up and down and yelling. I knew what that meant, so I ran over to last place where I saw him and sure enough he was there! I could not believe the size of his velvet covered antlers! It was one of those rare times where the buck gets bigger and bigger from the time you see him until you walk up to him!

‘Mule Deer wintering grounds’ Photo by Shawn Danychuk Big Game Illustrated

Everything Outdoors ...with Kevin Wilson

SIGNIFICANT HUNTING OTHERS

e all have a significant hunting other. For many it’s a parent, a good buddy, a sibling, or … if you’re like me, it’s your spouse. In most instances, those very relationships flourished based on a special connection. Perhaps you were the experienced hunter and they were the newcomer, or maybe it was the other way around. We were all introduced to hunting at some point and someone took the time to teach us. Taking stock of our social circles, it seems often times it is that very individual who took us under their wing often becomes our forever significant hunting other. Furthermore, we all know that a quality hunting partner is indispensable. Finding a like-minded partner who shares our passion, skill, and ethics, can indeed be a tall order but when we find one, we tend to stick with them.

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I had to chuckle when Chad shared his editorial with me, not because it was particularly comedic, but because the guarded mentality is so rampant in our hunting culture. Sad but true, a lot of us are closet hunters. We’re either afraid to tell our non-hunting peers about what we do, or we’re worried about sharing our best kept secrets with those who might grab on and exploit them. I’ve been through my own ups and downs with the notion of sharing information and, I’m proud to say I’ve come full circle. Certainly I will protect my most valuable hunting areas, and indeed I will always take prudent measures to maintain the integrity of the ground I hunt, but when it comes to sharing educational tidbits, giving newcomers a leg up, and sharing valuable Intel with my closest hunting partner(s), I’m all over that. Allow me to explain. Last September my wife Heather, and I, had the privilege of delivering seminars at a local outdoor show. One of our presentations addressed the values associated with introducing newcomers to hunting. As I watched the audience respond to our message, I was impressed by how many nodded in affirmation when we addressed the importance of carrying on our hunting heritage. Clearly there was mass agreement with the concept of mentoring. Nurturing next generations to carry forward our tradition was widely recognized as a top priority. Even still, there seems to be an obvious paradox when it comes to passing the torch. The problem as I see it, relates to two things. The first is a product of our fast-paced lifestyles that provides us with an ever-shrinking allotment of discretionary time to disappear into the woods to hunt. Our time outside of work commitments is limited and we are possessive of it. Bringing a new hunter into the equation clearly requires sacrifice of time, energy, and often opportunity. If it’s a young hunter, all attention will be on teaching

firearms safety, and providing a fun and educational experi- I soon put a bow in her hand. From day one, she was drawn to ence. If the newcomer is an adult, it is expected that, with age the idea of outsmarting game and the process of procuring her comes some degree of discretion, but the basics still need to own food. Shortly after we were married, she jumped in with be addressed. As a mentor, your goal should ultimately be to both feet and is now one of the most accomplished, responsiintroduce the newbie to all that is good and right about hunt- ble, skilled, and successful trophy and meat hunters I know. In ing. Teaching them how, where, when and why we hunt … fact she is not only an accomplished bow and rifle hunter, but and exposing them to the unique and exciting interactions will she also hunts extensively with a shotgun and muzzleloader. In not only nurture a hunter in the making, but it may just hook the early years, I made every effort to share the black and white them for life! rules, along with the nuances that make one successful in the The second issue in my view, relates to ever-increasing field. She and I have experienced countless highs, lows, and pressure; that constant strain imposed on hunters and hunt- everything in between. I am excited to share that, as my siging from the anti-hunting movement, and landowners who nificant hunting other, Heather recently hit the pinnacle of her are frustrated to the point of shutting down access to their hunting career by taking a magnificent bighorn ram during a lands. As far as mentoring is concerned, this is where it often September sheep hunt this past fall. breaks down. Those who oppose hunting would have us beWe hunt for a lot of reasons. We enjoy the fresh air, we love lieve that taking game is nothing more than blood sport. On the chase, and we thrive on the challenge … but with every the contrary, it is up to us as mentors to convey not only the year I live on this planet, I gain an increasing appreciation for value of hunting as a management tool, but also as a privilege the immense value of the memories made with my significant and traditional right that, if managed properly, can not only hunting other. I will forever cherish the countless days afield sustain but help bolster game populations. Furthermore, as a with my dad. From my earliest days with a shotgun in hand, mentor and, indeed a significant hunting other, it is impera- I fondly remember the regular routine of spotting waterfowl tive that we teach newcomers to respect the land, the animals, shoots, setting up decoys, the hunt itself, and then spending and landowners. This means always seeking permission from lazy fall days cleaning birds in the field. Those very experienclandowners and respecting their response, and conditions, if es nurtured an indescribable bond between my father and me. and when we are granted access. It means being a wise steward Back then, my dad was my significant hunting other, but of the land, which includes everything from cleaning up after over time I developed new relationships and had a buddy who ourselves when we pack up our hunting camp to head home, assumed that role. Now, as I’ve been married over 19 years, to imposing our own limits on what we shoot regardless of Heather is without a doubt, not only my spouse but also my whether regulations allow a harvest or not. I commonly refer significant hunting other. The adventures we share continue to to Aldo Leopold, and his book titled A Sand County Alma- develop our bond immeasurably. From enduring high alpine nac, and specifically a chapter titled “The Land Ethic” when I snow storms during backcountry sheep hunts, to working totalk to people who don’t hunt. As I do this, I make a point of gether to sort out a savvy old whitetail, trudging through bogreferring to the value of biodiversity, and the importance of gy moose swamps, strategically setting up waterfowl shoots, balance. Most hunting activities may hold value, but unless we and so many more … indeed, it is my significant hunting other manage our harvest and respect the land and everything on it, that has helped make me who I am today. I’m guessing if you history shows that populations can, and often do, suffer. In the stop and think about it, the same will be true for you. end, passing on a healthy and responsible land ethic is a vital part of mentoring newHamilton Greenwood Photo comers to hunting. As a significant hunting other, we must all take this seriously and hold both ourselves, and our partners, accountable. Then there is the intrinsic value associated with making memories with our significant hunting other. Consider your own history. You may have been introduced to hunting by your father or grandfather. Such was the case for me. I come from a long line of hunters and if I have anything to say about it, that tradition will carry forward in perpetuity. Heather, on the other hand, didn’t come from a family of hunters. She had been introduced to backpacking and several other outdoor pursuits as a young person, but never to hunting. When we first began dating, she was intrigued with the idea and Big Game Illustrated

BY: AARON GOULD

Aaron Gould and his friend Josiah Hetland pose with the absolute giant buck taken by Aaron in 2011. The buck was truly one of the greatest whitetails taken anywhere in the world that year. The numbers on Aaron’s buck are nothing short of spectacular. The typical frame of the deer nets 200 1/8” after only 3 4/8” of deductions. Adding 40” of abnormal points, the final net non-typical score on Aaron’s buck is an incredible 240 1/8”. Despite a relatively narrow spread of 16 3/8’, both antlers have net typical scores of well over 90”, which is very rare in itself. The buck is truly a world class animal no matter how you look at it. 70

Big Game Illustrated

uring the summer of 2011 rumors floated on the breeze near one of the properties I have the privilege to hunt. The rumors were of a giant whitetail buck whose shed antlers were apparently found just across the river from where I deer hunt with my family. Stories of big deer always get hunters dreaming of wall mounts and the glory of shooting “da turdy pointer”. For me, this was especially true because in the year 2000, I decided to only hunt for deer in a specific category. Specifically, I set my sights on deer above the 135” Pope and Young score card. In the previous 11 years I had only taken one buck on my quest for trophy whitetails. I must admit that I was primarily self-taught in this process and the learning curve can be quite unforgiving. During these “buck-less” years I filled numerous doe tags for the freezer, but I wanted to give the bucks on the properties I hunted the chance to grow to maturity. During that time frame I had several close encounters with deer in the 140”180” class range but could never seal the deal. Usually these encounters were with my compound bow and the deer were out of range, or I did not have a clear shot. I only take shots that I have a high degree of confidence in. I believe the animal deserves this respect. Opening weekend of the 2011 firearm deer season I was not able to hunt due to the fact that I was in South Carolina performing an exhibition shooting show with my brother Steve (Gould Brothers Exhibition Shooting). This was the first firearm deer opener I had missed in 18 years! Being on the road meant I had no chance to hunt this magnificent deer in 2011. The 2011/2012 Minnesota winter was extremely mild which allowed for nice opportunities to get out in the woods to look for shed antlers without the usual deep and heavy snow. That is exactly what my 11 year old brother-in-law Brandon was doing during the early part of 2012. When I heard from my family that Brandon found a “very nice” shed my interest was instantly focused on seeing this shed. My first inclination was that it probably would be a deer in the 150 to 160 class range, which would have been

a great find, but my thoughts changed as soon as I laid my eyes on the shed! I stood in disbelief when I first saw the giant shed. I was looking at half of a buck that would push the 200” mark and he had left his shed on a property that I firearm hunt on! Putting a tape to the shed I came up with a score of somewhere in the high 190’s. I really didn’t care what the score was. I knew this was a deer worth pursuing. For a couple days it was hard

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to even sleep, as dreams of getting a chance at this deer, some eight months into the future, danced in my mind. I do not own the majority of the land that I hunt and I have very little control on the hunting practices that take place on these properties. Anytime I can, I try to nudge the others that hunt these lands to follow the QDMA principle of at least selective harvest of bucks. With that in mind, my 14 year old brother-in-law Josh had shown an interest in these principals, so I decided to do a little project with him. I approached him and asked if he would like to start a mineral site not far from his stand and put a trail camera out to see what kind of bucks were in the area. No trail cameras had ever been on this property so I was extremely excited to see what we would find. I knew there would be at least one nice buck, but I had no idea what we were about to find! A couple weeks later we checked the trail camera and the deer were nailing the salt and mineral site. Over 4000 pictures in just a couple weeks were captured on the Bushnell Trophy Cam. As we scrolled down the pictures we saw age groups from 1 1/2 year old to possibly 3 1/2 year old. It wasn’t until we reached the date of 7/29 that a monster buck appeared. The picture I saw literally brought tears to my eyes. I had never seen a buck so impressive in all my life! Over the next several weeks we captured him three additional times on camera, the last of which he was just coming out of velvet. I knew his home range was near where we were getting pictures of him, since we were smack dab in between where his sheds had been found the previous two years. One was found about a half mile north and the other a half mile south of our location. At first I wanted to keep the photos between Josh and I. I knew the pictures would cause hysteria and was worried that the photos

would start leaking out around the countryside, but ultimately I knew that wouldn’t be the right thing to do. That evening I showed the family members who coordinate the deer hunt on this property. Over the remaining summer and fall I spent many nights looking at aerial photos of the property and the surrounding properties. Trying to figure out as much as possible about how this buck might move between the properties I knew him to be using. I knew he was calling a part of this property his home, but since he only visited the mineral site once every two or three weeks it was evident he was traveling to neighboring properties as well, and perhaps even living there. That fall was extremely busy traveling to perform exhibition shooting shows and this unfortunately left almost no time for hunting. As the Minnesota firearm deer season approached I knew I had to do something to increase our odds of seeing this deer. I had nicknamed him the “Red Willow Buck” because his antlers looked like a red willow and he resided in a river bottom full of red willow swamps. No hunting was taking place for this buck until firearm season, so I took Josh out to his stand about 10 days before season opened and we made a few mock scrapes and hung some drip bags above them. We did this at both his stand and mine, which was about 300 yards away. My hope was that this would help keep him nearby and also increase our chances of seeing him during daylight hours. As opening day approached my anticipation was growing. I secretly hoped Josh would get a chance at the buck since I had worked with him on this special project. Although, I must

admit I too was hoping to get a chance at him. Opening day I sat in stand all day and saw does, fawns and one 125” 8 pointer that came within 10 yards. The following morning I saw several does, one of which was being trailed by a 1 1/2 year old buck, but still no sign of Red Willow. Our entire hunting party left our stands at 10 a.m. to do a few deer drives which is customary for our group. No one had been seeing much for deer up to that point. My hunch was that peak breeding was going on and that’s why we were not seeing the adult does or bucks. The first drive produced nothing, not even a single deer, which was very odd for the property. Next came lunch and planning for the early afternoon drive. The second drive of the afternoon was to be through the swamp my deer stand overlooked. As usual, I was a walker and two people were assigned to the middle of the swamp, which was primarily onion grass on top of floating bog and a few patches of cattails. I had recommended we put someone here to watch for deer in the swamp move though this area. It provided excellent shooting opportunities once deer were on their feet. As we approached to within about 150 yards of the standers, I could hear deer moving through the brush in front of the walkers who were in the red willow edge of the swamp to my right. The deer were nervous and could smell the standers upwind and were trying to find their way out when they decided to take a high speed break for it out in front of me. First one buck, then a second, a very nice eight pointer, then a third. The third buck to appear was wearing a huge set of antlers and I instantly knew it was the buck from the trail camera photos.

Big Game Illustrated

It seemed unbelievable that it was actually happening, I was so close to this monster buck! At first there was no clear shot. The deer was between me and a poster on the drive. A few short bounds later Red Willow presented a clear and safe shot. I only had about 30 feet to aim and fire before he went behind a pocket of cattails, likely never to be seen again. I squeezed the trigger and knew the Winchester Dual Bond slug had found its mark as Red Willow hunched just after I pulled the trigger. He disappeared behind the cattails and as I ran up to look around the cattails I heard shots fired from several other members of the party to my left. By the time I could see around the cattails I saw the hunt for Red Willow was over! My brotherin-law Josiah had left no need for tracking by adding a second vital hit, taking the deer down about 50 yards after I had shot him. Over the next hour the hunting party celebrated with taking

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pictures, high fives and many hugs. Although I prefer to stand hunt for deer in the thick cover of Minnesota, a well-executed and safe drive can sometimes pay big dividends. Hats off to the entire hunting party for making this deer drive a great success! Without each person in the drive playing their role I would not be telling this story of a once-in-a-lifetime deer. Although I cannot take sole credit for this deer, who better to share this experience with than close family? We will indeed retell the story and relive the memories for years to come! Red Willow was officially scored for Boone &Â Crockett at 240 1/8", which at the time of scoring was 9th largest all time in the state of Minnesota. Every season I look forward to once again enjoy the smell of autumn and chasing Whitetails. I may never see another buck the size of Red Willow again in the wild, but I will always enjoy the time spent afield with friends, family, and in the great outdoors. God has truly blessed me with all three.

It was a cold and snowy February morning when this buck appeared between a feeding and bedding area. Lindsay Wilkinson Photo

OOKE R H BY: SHAWN DANYCHUK

very now and then a special deer comes around that a person, as much as we hate to admit it, becomes obsessed with. On a cold, windy day in late November last year I found a buck that would become my obsession. With the 2012 whitetail season in full swing, I found myself out doing my rounds, scouting hard and looking for a worthy whitetail to pursue. It was just before lunch when a good friend of mine, Steven Little, called to inform me he had found a mule deer that I may be interested in taking pictures of. With the words "extra junk" being said, I quickly forgot all about hunting whitetails and pointed the truck in the direction of Steven and this new, interesting buck that I wanted to get a look at, camera in hand. As I approached the field Steven had described, I could see a herd of mule deer does out in an uncombined flax field. I pulled the truck over in the nearest approach and immediately got set up on them with the spotting scope. A close look revealed six mule deer does making their way over a ridge in the flax. Since it was late November, I thought that a buck had to be close by. The does had not been spooked by my presence, so I grabbed my camera gear, checked the wind and quickly started making a circle around the deer in hopes of cutting them off and moving in on them. I quickly made it to the end of the windrow of thick caragana trees. With the wind in my face and the deer between me and the truck, I started heading east back towards the area that I thought the deer would be. Staying in in the shadows of the trees, I had only made it 200 yards when I spotted four does. I sat down in the snow bank and began to glass the area when out of the tree row walked a doe. She made her way through the flax until she was only 30 yards from me. I quickly replaced my Nikon binoculars with my Canon camera, knowing that a buck was likely close behind. Just as I got ready, I could see a bush like rack above the tall grass along the tree row. As he made his way out to the doe in the flax, I was overtaken by the incredible

Big Game Illustrated

Shawn Danychuk of Saskatoon, Saskatchewan with the massive buck he nicknamed ‘Hooker” for the big, hooked, downturned tine the buck grew on its right antler, a defining characteristic of the antlers. Shawn puts in an incredible amount af time into patterning the animals in his hunting area and he had the big deer figured out when opening morning of the 2012 season rolled around, and he was able to kill him the first morning of the season, at close range. The mass on Shawn’s deer is very rare in a mule deer, with six measurements going over 6”. An inside spread of 22”, long main beams of 28 2/8 and 29”, and long backs of 14 and 15 5/8 give the buck a huge frame. The final gross score on the big bruiser is 230 2/8” non typical, and the net score is 221 1/8”. Facing page: Photo by Shawn Danychuk on a frosty morning in November of 2011. Big Game Illustrated

‘The preseason lineup’. Shawns friends, including Steven Little, were an integral part of his success as they helped him keep tabs on the big deer. Photo by Steven Little

sight of what I was seeing in front of me. Snapping out of my trance, I started burning off pictures but it was not long before my battery died due to the -30C cold winter weather. With a dead camera and frozen fingers I snuck out and headed for the truck, leaving the deer alone to enjoy the rut and me all smiles. When back at the truck and now with the battery thawed, I flipped through my pictures admiring the mule deer I had now named Hooker. With a good food supply, deep snow, and winter setting in hard, he was at home and I had plans to pick up his sheds. Keeping an eye on hooker for the next month and a half proved to be difficult. Generally, I would see him usually once every four days. On one of those occasions, just a couple days after Christmas, I was making my way along the tree row searching for any sign of Hooker. As I neared the far corner of the field, I jumped four bucks and one of them was Hooker! They made their way to a bluff to the east of me and were quickly swallowed up by the dense willows. I hurried my way behind them working my way along the tree row to within 50 yards of the bluff. There I sat, playing out my options, with my camera battery in my pocket this time, to avoid having it freeze and ruining this photo opportunity. I figured it was now or never and made my way to some tall grass along the edge of the small bluff. As I burrowed a small hole in the snow bank and got settled, I noticed movement in the bluff about 30 yards from my position. It was a small buck, and he slowly made his way out and started grazing 60 yards out from me. I retrieved the warm battery and managed to get it in the frozen camera without the buck hearing me and started taking pictures of him, not knowing if any of the other bucks were around. The buck milled around for five minutes when he all of suddenly locked on to the bluff about 40 yards down from me in a spot blocked by some dead willows. I looked over and there he was! Hooker appeared, standing in a small gap in the willows. He started to paw at the ground digging for the feed deep below the snow. I took the opportunity when he was looking away to get in 78

Big Game Illustrated

the best position possible and managed to snap off my best pictures of him yet! The bucks slowly moved off and headed for the hay field, leaving me frozen but smiling. That was my last encounter with him in 2012 and a few days later he disappeared altogether. I searched for miles all around and came to the conclusion that he had made his way to the big bush in order to escape the hard crusted snow and relentless coyotes. That spring ended up being one of my best ever for sheds, but as hard as I tried I could not locate Hooker’s sheds. The winter of 2012 was one of the worst winters we’ve had in a long time, with deep snow and many days below that -30c mark. Many of the deer in our area simply could not make it through and died off. When summer rolled around, I started doing my rounds once again, keeping a close eye on the area Hooker was the past winter. The deer sightings were way down, with mature bucks being hard to find, but we did manage to find a few old friends that looked like they were decent enough to keep an eye on. Despite a growing list of potential shooters, we couldn’t find anything that looked like Hooker. It was now late July and the mule deer really started to show up on the hay. I had found one typical that was definitely worth pursuing and was starting to think Hooker did not make the winter. Then one day while I was at work, I came in for a break, and there on my phone was a picture message from Steven. I could not believe my eyes, there he was, Hooker was alive and well and exploded in inches!!!! Now it was on! He was alive and I had over a month to pattern and put together a plan. I thought that I was set, but once again he played the ‘hard to see’ game. In the next three weeks, I only managed to spot him a couple times. He had picked a great hay field to spend the summer. He was out of sight of any roads and he had lots of cover around the big lake he called home. It was a week before the season opened when, in the early morning light, I caught him and two of his buddies moving off the hay and headed to bed for the day, I finally caught the break I needed as he tucked himself down along the edge of a

willow pocket. As much as I wanted to sneak in for pictures, I decided to leave him alone and headed back to the farm where we were preparing for harvest. The next morning I was once again overlooking the flat where he bedded in the previous am. As the sun came up, I could see three bucks jump the fence around the hay and move out into the flat and start milling around. For the next hour, I watched Hooker and his two buddies out in the flat before they once again bedded in the same silver willow pocket. For the next five mornings, I sat in the same spot and watched him do the same thing every morning. It was now the evening before the season, and I had everything planned, and the forecast looked perfect! The next morning found me walking through heavy fog at four am. I was heading to the pocket where he had bedded for the previous week. My plan was to wait along the edge where he was bedding and let him come to me. As the sun came up, I was disappointed because the visibility was horrible. I could see maybe 100 yards, but I knew he was out there, grazing his way towards his bed and I just had to be patient. After a while I was starting to lose hope thinking that the fog had messed with his morning routine and he had headed to the lake to bed. I contemplated moving and began to look around, planning my next move. I turned back for one more look and I caught movement along the top of a small ridge, 70 yards out! Glassing the area I could see antler tips coming my way, I lowered down into the grass as Hooker came up over the ridge, grazing along. I could not believe my eyes, I had not been this close to him since last winter. He was absolutely monstrous, and he was slowly making his way closer to the pocket. I knew that I was going to get a chance and prepared for the shot. I was a few yards into the bluff so I had good cover. As he closed to 50 yards, he started to angle off to my right and I noticed his two buddies come over the ridge. He seemed to notice them too, and he looked back over his shoulder. I took the opportunity and drew back. Confirming that it was his two buddies, he continued coming towards the pocket where I was hiding. He turned slightly, and at 11 yards, quartering slightly away, I released the arrow, hitting him perfectly! He took off back over the ridge that he had just come over a few minutes before. I quickly followed up behind him, making my way up to the ridge in time to see him disappear into a low spot. I

stood there, hoping for him to come back into view in the flat. He never appeared, but I thought that I noticed his rack come up into view as he tipped over backwards and disappeared into the tall grass right where I lost sight of him. I made my way to where I had seen him go down and I could not locate him in the tall grass. I started to question the shot, and what I thought I saw when he went down. I searched back and forth and back and forth and began to panic a bit. Finally, with a huge sense of relief, I found him! It was all over, and my quest for Hooker had come full circle. I would like to thank Steven and Kelly for finding Hooker and starting my quest and giving me the keys I needed to find him. I also need to thank my loving wife who let me spend every possible morning this summer looking for my obsession.

Big Game Illustrated

The

Future of Hunting Jordon Roberts

Jordan Rennich Alton and Simon Budgen

Mike Trach

Rylan Elmy

Trifon Gerritse

Middy Toews

Storm and Stryker Zabocki

Morgan Trach

Talilah Dryden

Hayleigh Kunard

Hey Kids! Send us your photos of your favorite outdoor activity and you may be featured in an upcoming issue of Big Game Illustrated! Tanner McPherson

Email your photos along with name and age to:

info@biggameillustrated.com

The Rut! There are few events that North American hunters look forward to more than the whitetail rut. Hamilton Greenwood captured this spectacular series of photos in November of 2012 as a younger buck challenged an older buck to a fight and they proceeded to battle instensely at close range. Both deer came out of it bloodied and injured, but the younger deer, a mainfame 5x5 with small double drop tines, was in especially rough shape. One can only hope that he was able to recover in time to survive the harsh winter of 2012.

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