Anticipate Rutting Buck Behavior

Trying to anticipate what a rutting buck will do is much like listening to a politician's promise. Both can be a risky venture.

Frankly, the only predictable thing about a rutting buck is his unpredictability. They do things that make absolutely no sense to the bow hunter, but apparently, their actions make complete sense to them.

Bucks can act completely addled, and once they begin chasing does, some bucks dart across roads only to get themselves killed in a deer-vehicle collision. I've watched bucks run head-long into a fence post even though the doe jumped the fence.

Rutting bucks never lose their fear of humans

The oddities of rutting bucks have been well documented. What is seldom stressed is how their mood swings influence their actions, but seldom will a buck become totally clueless. They do not lose their inherent fear of humans, and a buck that hears, sees or smells a hunter, will waste little time getting out of Dodge.

This means that hunters can take no liberties with being downwind of known travel routes. We also must sit still, don't move and take only high-percentage shots. Another thing to note is that bucks are seldom still during the rut, and hunters must be prepared for a quick and accurate shot on a moment's notice. Keep your bow in your hands at all times. Reaching for a bow hanging from a nearby branch often is a waste of time.

The most predictable thing about a rutting buck is he is never far from his latest squeeze. Of course, as soon as he's had his way with her, he is off on a continuing search for other estrus does to breed. For the larger and older bucks, breeding does is a never-ending process in which a mature buck will lose 25-30 percent of his body weight.

Find the does and you'll find the bucks

Remember, a buck will always be near the does. He may hang back in heavy cover near a food source, but once she moves, the buck cuts her trail again. It's one reason why hunters often set up a stand in the heaviest cover near a food source and near a field corner.

A buck will cruise back and forth as the doe feeds, and will check other nearby does to determine how close they are to estrus, but he keeps a close watch on his latest lady friend.

Bucks will often be seen crossing open fields as they course a doe. He will go where she goes, and if she is almost in estrus, he will be even closer. If she goes left or right, he will cut her off, and if she head-fakes him into going one way while she goes the other, he will soon catch up with the wayward doe.

Hunting these animals can be great fun, and almost every hunter will say; "So close and yet so far away" at one time or another. The bucks and does often move just out of bow range, and it's not a deliberate thing on their part. The hunter has simply made a mistake by setting up just out of effective bow range.

Hunt near field corners with thick cover

It's difficult to go wrong by hunting fairly close to fields where does will feed. Choose one of the corners, and especially the field-edge corner with the heaviest nearby cover. That is where bucks will hang out to watch the does, and they often pace back and forth like an expectant father. Their reason for pacing is the driving need to breed when she enters estrus.

None of this means the buck won't enter a feeding field, and often by luck or design, a doe will lead an amorous buck past a ground blind or tree stand, but it's not something to bet the homestead on.

Tending bucks often are vocal bucks, and one about to breed a doe will be grunting with almost every step it takes. This tending grunt is low and guttural, and sometimes can be heard for 100 yards while at other times the buck may only be 20 yards away when the sound is heard. In some cases the sound is much like a ventriloquist "throwing" his voice; it's almost impossible to tell where the sound comes from during a heavy fog or a misty rain.

Bucks will sometimes still check ground scrapes, but once the rut really kicks offs, they stop opening up and freshening scrapes. They have used those scrapes over the past two or three weeks to locate estrus and soon-to-be-ready does, and every buck in the area knows which does will soon be bred. The earliest does to breed often are among the oldest does in the area.

This also is when young bucks try to mount the does while the big buck is busy elsewhere, but most does will not stand for a younger deer unless big boy gets killed. Few 1 1/2-year-old bucks do any breeding. Their day will come in two or three years unless they get shot by a hunter.

Hunting the rut is entirely different than hunting bucks at other times. Hunters must start thinking like a buck, and once they figure out where the does are, and where the thickest cover is (where much of the breeding will take place), it becomes a bit easier... but not by much.

It's easy to make an obvious error in judgment in retrospect, and hunters who know the land they hunt like the back of their hand will usually know from past experience where the bucks and does head during the rut. They can arrange to be there at the right time.

Two tips to remember about hunting rutting bucks

Two last tips on rutting deer is this:

• Bucks often rest up a bit after daybreak but begin cruising in search of estrus bucks between 10 a.m. and 2 p.m. This four-hour period during mid-day can be a hot time to be on stand. Few hunters are out at that time of day but the bucks are often moving.
• The same holds true with hunting just before a bad weather front moves through. Check the weather, and hunt just before bad weather hits your area, especially if it features a substantial drop in temperature and either rain or snow.

Rut hunting is never easy, but hunting it properly and knowing a few of these tricks will stimulate your brain and make hunters think each daily situation out thoroughly. And that usually is a good thing to do at this time of year.

Posted via email from Dave Richey Outdoors

Anticipate Rutting Buck Behavior

Trying to anticipate what a rutting buck will do is much like listening to a politician's promise. Both can be a risky venture.

Frankly, the only predictable thing about a rutting buck is his unpredictability. They do things that make absolutely no sense to the bow hunter, but apparently, their actions make complete sense to them.

Bucks can act completely addled, and once they begin chasing does, some bucks dart across roads only to get themselves killed in a deer-vehicle collision. I've watched bucks run head-long into a fence post even though the doe jumped the fence.

Rutting bucks never lose their fear of humans.The oddities of rutting bucks have been well documented. What is seldom stressed is how their mood swings influence their actions, but seldom will a buck become totally clueless. They do not lose their inherent fear of humans, and a buck that hears, sees or smells a hunter, will waste little time getting out of Dodge.

This means that hunters can take no liberties with being downwind of known travel routes. We also must sit still, don't move and take only high-percentage shots. Another thing to note is that bucks are seldom still during the rut, and hunters must be prepared for a quick and accurate shot on a moment's notice. Keep your bow in your hands at all times. Reaching for a bow hanging from a nearby branch often is a waste of time.

The most predictable thing about a rutting buck is he is never far from his latest squeeze. Of course, as soon as he's had his way with her, he is off on a continuing search for other estrus does to breed. For the larger and older bucks, breeding does is a never-ending process in which a mature buck will lose 25-30 percent of his body weight.

Find the does and you'll find the bucks. Remember, a buck will always be near the does. He may hang back in heavy cover near a food source, but once she moves, the buck cuts her trail again. It's one reason why hunters often set up a stand in the heaviest cover near a food source and near a field corner.

A buck will cruise back and forth as the doe feeds, and will check other nearby does to determine how close they are to estrus, but he keeps a close watch on his latest lady friend.

Bucks will often be seen crossing open fields as they course a doe. He will go where she goes, and if she is almost in estrus, he will be even closer. If she goes left or right, he will cut her off, and if she head-fakes him into going one way while she goes the other, he will soon catch up with the wayward doe.

Hunting these animals can be great fun, and almost every hunter will say; "So close and yet so far away" at one time or another. The bucks and does often move just out of bow range, and it's not a deliberate thing on their part. The hunter has simply made a mistake by setting up just out of effective bow range.

Hunt near field corners with thick cover.It's difficult to go wrong by hunting fairly close to fields where does will feed. Choose one of the corners, and especially the field-edge corner with the heaviest nearby cover. That is where bucks will hang out to watch the does, and they often pace back and forth like an expectant father. Their reason for pacing is the driving need to breed when she enters estrus.

None of this means the buck won't enter a feeding field, and often by luck or design, a doe will lead an amorous buck past a ground blind or tree stand, but it's not something to bet the homestead on.

Tending bucks often are vocal bucks, and one about to breed a doe will be grunting with almost every step it takes. This tending grunt is low and guttural, and sometimes can be heard for 100 yards while at other times the buck may only be 20 yards away when the sound is heard. In some cases the sound is much like a ventriloquist "throwing" his voice; it's almost impossible to tell where the sound comes from during a heavy fog or a misty rain.

Bucks will sometimes still check ground scrapes, but once the rut really kicks offs, they stop opening up and freshening scrapes. They have used those scrapes over the past two or three weeks to locate estrus and soon-to-be-ready does, and every buck in the area knows which does will soon be bred. The earliest does to breed often are among the oldest does in the area.

This also is when young bucks try to mount the does while the big buck is busy elsewhere, but most does will not stand for a younger deer unless big boy gets killed. Few 1 1/2-year-old bucks do any breeding. Their day will come in two or three years unless they get shot by a hunter.

Hunting the rut is entirely different than hunting bucks at other times. Hunters must start thinking like a buck, and once they figure out where the does are, and where the thickest cover is (where much of the breeding will take place), it becomes a bit easier... but not by much.

It's easy to make an obvious error in judgment in retrospect, and hunters who know the land they hunt like the back of their hand will usually know from past experience where the bucks and does head during the rut. They can arrange to be there at the right time.

Two tips to remember about hunting rutting bucks.Two last tips on rutting deer is this: Bucks often rest up a bit after daybreak but begin cruising in search of estrus bucks between 10 a.m. and 2 p.m. This four-hour period during mid-day can be a hot time to be on stand. Few hunters are out at that time of day but the bucks are often moving. The same holds true with hunting just before a bad weather front moves through. Check the weather, and hunt just before bad weather hits your area, especially if it features a substantial drop in temperature and either rain or snow.

Rut hunting is never easy, but hunting it properly and knowing a few of these tricks will stimulate your brain and make hunters think each daily situation out thoroughly. And that usually is a good thing to do at this time of year.

Anticipate Rutting Buck Behavior ((tag: Dave Richey, Michigan, outdoors, rut, buck, anticipate, behavior, estrus, doe, deer, hunt))

Posted via email from Dave Richey Outdoors

A Great Hunting Dog and Many Memories

There is something very special that happens to your heart when a solid-as-Sears pointer slams to a stop, lifts a front foot and his stubby little tail goes rigid.
It has happened to me many times. I’d walk in behind a great pointer, shotgun at port arms, and look in front of and over the dog and 10 yards away. Too many people study the ground directly in front of the dog, and a pointer may be on a bird that is 10 yards ahead or to either side. Fine field work is what endears good dogs to their owner.

Remembering the gut-wrenching loss of a great dog

The pleasures of owning a dog died with my German shorthair, Fritz, who came with some truly great bloodlines and who died many years ago. There were many reasons why no other dogs have entered my life, and losing an old friend was the major one.
Fritz, like many shorthairs, was bullheaded and stubborn to a fault. He could get into more trouble than a fox in a hen-house, and he always thought he was hunting for himself. He didn’t realize that he was supposed to hunt in return for his daily meals and in respect to the man who brought him to this outdoor dance.
He was a terror, and his idea of hunting was to be a half-mile and three fallow fields ahead of me. I’d work him on a long leash, and he’d sit, heel and was steady to wing and shot as long as the rope snugged him in at about 25 yards. Take the lead off, and he attempted to set a new speed record for crossing three open fields and busting one pheasant after another along the way.

Teaching Fritz to "hunt close"

Finally, in desperation after finally catching him after a long sprint, I loosened his collar a bit, stuck one of this dark front paws through the collar, and turned him loose. He made one step and fell over whining. I got him back up on three legs, and he tried to run off again. He was scolded and told to hunt close.
An hour later, feeling sorry for the dog, I pulled his foot out and off he went like he had a booster rocket under his tail. Another long-winded sprint, and my feelings of regret changed to one of quickly solving this problem. The next two days he hunted on three legs, and wasn’t happy about it but he hunted within 25 yards of me.
He worked the cover slow and cast from side to side, and we put up hens and roosters over his rather lop-sided point, and I’d praise him in person and to anyone who would listen, and after two days of punishment, we went out the third day.
We had a heart-to-heart about his past behavior, and his more recent way of staying close, and he seemed to pay attention. It was a gamble worth taking, and I slipped his foot from his collar. He looked at me, and I patted his head and said “Hunt close,” and he began hunting into the wind. He cast back and forth, and never exceeded the 25-yard maximum.
A soft “Whoa” was all I needed to steady him.

A steady-to-wing-&-shot

He locked onto point, and I whispered Whoa, lifted his tail, and he looked like a granite carving. I stepped in front, saying “Steady now,” and he was rock solid. The ringneck pheasant boosted into the air with a raucous cackle, his long-barred tail streaming out behind, and I swung with the bird and down he came.
Fritz, after his introduction to a lead rope and the foot through the collar, never gave me another problem. He hunted grouse, pheasant and woodcock, and his expertise was superb. He would hunt with the neighbor kids, my Dad and brother George during that era when hunter orange clothing wasn't required, and there were only two rules for them: hunt safely and don’t shoot at low-flying birds.

Living & hunting through Fritz's last year of life

The last year of his life was a painful ordeal. His hips were shot from arthritis, and he always begged me to take him. We’d hunt near home, and he would gimp through the fields. He wasn't steady afoot but it certainly didn’t affect his hearing or nose.
He’d zero in on cackling roosters at dawn, and we’d move on them when shooting time opened. With luck we’d take two quick roosters, and then it was a slow and painful walk home for a dog in great pain. I’d pat his head, tell him I loved him, and he’d wag his bobbed tail. He knew we'd had countless great hunts together, and he'd given his heart and his trust to me. His reward was my pleasure with him.
Our last hunt came a few days later. A magazine deadline was met, I grabbed my shotgun, got Fritz up and we headed out. He slowly worked two different birds, both were roosters, and my shooting was better than average. Fritz pointed, and I shot both birds, and then he sat down. I kneeled beside my old friend as he whined and shivered with pain, and I picked him up and carried the heavy dog home in my arms, sniffling back tears and knowing he’d run has last race through good pheasant cover.
Two days later, during the last week in October as cold winds blew down from the north, Fritz left me and went to that area where all good bird dogs go when they die. He was buried along a fence row that often produced a good number of flushes, and on occasion I still think I hear him snuffling the scent of a big ring-neck 10 feet in front of his nose.

Lasting memories

It isn’t, of course, but there is the memory of a rugged and staunch bird dog that never learned the meaning of the word quit. He could out-hunt me, and it’s the biggest reason I’ve never owned another bird-hunting dog. A new dog could never measure up to Fritz, and it would be unfair to expect him to.
So I live with these haunting memories but no photos of Fritz except he's the front dog on point in the top photo. Lots of white hair, some black and brown hair, and some liver ticking in a few places. He was the finest bird dog I’ve ever owned, and I’ll never see the likes of him again. There’s a place tucked back in the corner of our hearts and minds for lost friends and good bird dogs, and whenever my mind registers a hit on man or dog, I reach up, dust off a fond memory and trot it for world to see.
Dog owners are fond of saying that a bird hunter is truly blessed to have one unforgettable bird dog during their lifetime, and it must be true. Because mine was Fritz, and he's been gone for 35 years. Here is my salute to you, old friend. When we meet again up yonder, we'll go hunting with shotgun in hand one more time.

Posted via email from Dave Richey Outdoors

A Hunting Trick Worth Trying

Hunters can do all the preseason scouting they wish. They can have tree stands conveniently placed, and ground blinds in strategic locations, and make every effort to be scent-free while staying downwind from the hunting location.
Still, there are times when bucks just will not cooperate. We can have a nice buck patterned, arrive early because we know the buck is as spooky as a house cat in a dog kennel, and still our best-laid plans can and do go awry.

Bucks can be very unpredictable

Sometimes the bucks won't show up because of something we've done, and there are other occasions when someone else spooks them unwittingly, but the bottom line is that bucks seldom play by our rules.
They play by their own game plan, and until we learn how to crawl inside a buck's head and determine what makes him tick, and do this or that, we must live with the prospects of being foiled again and again by an animal that doesn't show up as we often predict he will. That's another reason why they call this hunting.
Last year I had a nice buck that had been seen using a specific runway through heavy cover. One of the elevated stands was at the far end of the trail and back in thick cover, and my thought was to sit up on him at that location. I eased into the area, climbed up into the stand, and kicked back to relax.
I knew when he moved, and knew where he moved, and he was as regular as a glass of prune juice. Except for that night ...

He took the trail least travelled

He avoided the area like it was the last place on earth he wanted to be. I saw several does and a couple of small bucks, and some fawns, but the big rascal failed to make an appointment. He took a totally different trail out of the beddinh cover.
The next evening, we went through the same procedure, and again he didn't show up. The rut wasn't on yet, but this flaky buck was breaking his habits. I tried a third night, with equally unsuccessful results, and decided to hunt elsewhere.
My new spot produced the sighting of a nice buck, much too far out of range, but that animal captivated my attention for several days before another hunter took him from a different stand. Where to go now?
My decision seemed easy. I planned to go back and try for the other buck. A friend had seen him moving about in that area, and I slipped into the stand noiselessly. The wind was perfect, and again he didn't show up.
My mind usually tells me the buck is bedded down in the immediate area, and has spotted me going to the stand or leaving it. This, I feel, was the answer but how to solve the problem. This could be a test of wills, mine versus his.

A sneaky way in for a hunter

Other stands were hunted for several days, and I finally decided to have a friend drop me off with his truck. My thought was the buck was probably being spooked by me walking in, so why not let the pickup truck do the spooking.
The friend drove me to the stand, and I was up the ladder like a fox squirrel heading for the tree-tops. He puttered around a little bit until I was in the stand and out of sight, and then he slowly drove off down a nearby two-track and the woods settled down to silence.
As the afternoon turned into early evening there were several does, fawns and two or three small bucks moving through. The big buck still hadn't showed up, and I was beginning to think he had moved out of the area and taken up temporary residence elsewhere.
Thirty minutes before sundown, the slanting muted rays of late sunlight were seen glinting off polished white antlers. The deer stood up, moved forward, and stepped into the tiny clearing near the stand. He looked around, especially where the truck had come from and the direction it had gone, and seemed satisfied it was gone.
The animal had been bedded down just 40 yards from the stand. The buck, completely fooled by my arrival by truck, strode confidently out in front of me.
The bow eased back to full draw, and the buck lowered his head to sniff the scent of one of the does, and my arrow slid in behind the shoulder. The buck humped up slightly, kicked his legs back, and ran off.
It was a good hit, I knew, and moments later I walked up to the fallen buck. During the field dressing, I found the heart with a two-blade wound through the center of it. Being hit in the heart often makes deer hump up and kick, and the animals die quickly.
Hunters must recognize that big bucks often bed down near a stand where they can watch hunters come and go. Having another person drop them off, and stay there with the motor running until the hunter is out of sight in the stand, can pay big dividends.
It's a trick I've since used for many years, and this tactic particularly holds true when hunters use bait after snow covers the ground. Bucks and does often bed near the food source, and being dropped off and picked up with a motorized vehicle can work wonders for hunters.
Deer can't count the number of people in a truck or on a four-wheeler. Sometimes it gives hunters an edge and sometimes it doesn't. Nothing works all the time on whitetails, and that is why whitetail deer are such fascinating animals to hunt.

Posted via email from Dave Richey Outdoors

10/29/09_droblog_Wounded Deer Do Not Always Die

Many years ago I was hunting a local area, and I kept seeing a really nice buck. I had a strong feeling that something was wrong with the animal but had no visible clues.

I glassed it with binoculars and even a spotting scope, studied it from all angles, and didn't want to waste my tag on it if the buck had been wounded. There was no noticeable limp, no legs dragging, and no apparent sign the buck was hurt in any way.

Still, a niggling thought kept coming back to me: this buck is hurt. Should I shoot it?

A tough question to answer

There were too many questions and no logical answers. The next day I sat in a tree stand overlooking a nearby trail. I'd seen the buck travel both ways on this trail, and the only thing that I hung my suspicions on, was the fact that this buck seemed to move too slowly to be in good health.

I'd been in my tree stand for an hour when I saw him walk out of a marsh. Tall marsh grass covered  most of his body but beautiful points stood high above his head. He moved very slowly, and didn't appear to favor either leg, but the more I watched him, they greater my feelings that this buck was in pain. The noticeable hump on the right front shoulder was difficult to see back inn heavy cover.

He approached my stand, and the wind was in my favor. He hung back, and two or three does and fawns, squirted past my stand, and he stood motionless for 10 minutes. The other deer were out of sight when he decided to step out into the open.

Each step was slow and methodical, a study in caution. He stayed screened by brush for long minutes as he took a step or two, stopped and studied the terrain all around him. He acted as if he had been shot at before by a bow hunter, and wasn't taking any chances of it happening again.

Apparently satisfied, he took two or three more steps, and exposed his vitals to a broadside shot. I waited, and he turned his head in the direction that the does and fawns had traveled, and I eased back to full draw and made a smooth release.

Taking the shot

The Carbon Express arrow sliced in low behind his front shoulder, hitting the heart and lungs, and his back legs kicked backward as it appeared to hump up slightly, and off he ran out of sight. I heard the buck go down, and it was a simple trailing job. I followed the Game Tracker line, and found the buck dead 70 yards away.

I field dressed the animal, and the meat near his shoulder was green. I kept skinning him out on that side, and the more hide I removed, the more green tissue I found.

This deer had gangrene all through its body, and even though there was no reason to suspect it was ill, a further autopsy proved the cause. The buck had been hit high in the shoulder, and the three-blade replaceable-blade broadhead had broken apart on impact.

The hunter who had originally shot the buck had been hunting from a tree stand, and the broadhead had penetrated until the replaceable blades impacted on the top of the shoulder blade. I kept skinning, and eventually found the tip and three bladess buried under the hide.

Gangrene had set in

The buck had been hit several days before, and it was in a spot where the animal couldn't lick the wound, and it just kept getting sicker by the day. The hunter couldn't recover the buck because the arrow wound wasn't that bad, but as time went on, a major infection set in.

This buck walked normally, didn't favor the leg on that side, and it wasn't the broadhead that would have eventually killed that buck if I hadn't shot it, but it was slowly dying from a nasty infection.

The buck was useless to me or anyone else, and I informed the DNR about the animal, and they said to leave it to the coyotes. I took photos of the broken broadhead, and two days later the coyotes had reduced the carcass to bones and hair and saved that animal from being eaten alive.

A deer, hit in a non-vital area that it can lick and keep clean, will almost always survive. It's such animals as this that become almost impossible to hunt. I've killed many deer that have been wounded by other people, and in many cases the deer would have survived.

A wounded deer doesn't always die. In fact, studies have shown that if blood loss is kept to a minimum, and no internal organs or major blood vessels are cut, the chances of a successful recovery are good. However, minor flesh wounds will heal quickly and often within a week or less, the animal will be up and moving around.

Know this, though A deer that recovers from an arrow wound is one savvy animal. Shooting and killing that deer can be a supreme hunting challenges of all.

Posted via email from Dave Richey Outdoors

More To Hunting Than Killing

It's become something of a habit for me. Once the fall hunting season heads into its second month, there's a good chance that once a day I'll remember another hunt from the past where a big buck was taken or an opportunity was lost for one reason or another.

It's this ability to recall past hunts, successful or not, that allow us to wallow through nine months of not hunting deer with a bow. It's rather easy to look at one of the big bucks on my wall, relax, kick back, and dredge up a fond memory or two to help me through the day.

There was a big buck running around my hunting area several years ago, and he was as regular as a dish of prunes. The problem was he was back in thick cover, and would eventually leave it. Each time he stepped out, he was in a slightly different location than days before.

 Hunting a very good buck

All too often he was just a bit too far away for a clean shot, and shooting that 10-pointer wouldn't have been easy. My decision to wait until he exited the tag alders within 20 yards was an easy one to make because I couldn't and wouldn't take a bad shot.

Day after day I'd see him. Sometimes he was close but 10 feet back in the tags, and the next day he would be 65 yards away. I believe he bedded in those alders, and moved around a bit  each day. Deer don't always bed down in the same location, and this guy championed the art of bedding and exiting tags in a different spot from day to day.

This buck was a tempting rascal but I'd hunt other blinds to avoid becoming patterned at this nearby spot. I was always downwind of him, but it was always just before shooting time ended when he stepped out. I felt he occasionally would make his move a little earlier, and it was a matter of being there when he did. Hopefully, his move would let him step out, and take several steps that may put him within range.

Once I saw his high and wide rack, all glistening white, coming through the tag alders. If he stayed his course, he would come out only 18 yards away and in a perfect location for a good shot.

Looking for a shot

His head swiveled  back and forth as he tested the wind, studied the nearby terrain that day, and his ears were cocking forward and to each side in hopes of getting an early warning of possible danger. He was 4 1/2 years old, and had had many opportunities to practice his moves before coming out to feed.

He kept coming at a very slow pace. There was no hurry-up in this guy. Each move was a well managed lesson in tactical survival. He'd take a step, stop, stand motionless for a minute or two, and then take another cautious step or two.

The buck would hold his head high, lower it to change the angle of his gaze, and move again. He had all the patience of a stalking alley cat, and moved as if he was ready to bolt at any second. Bolting wasn't what I wanted him to do, but sometimes these things happen.

Suddenly he stopped, and gazed hard at something nearby. A big mature doe had walked out of the brush on the other side of my stand, and was standing there, watching the buck. Live decoys like this doe that had appeared out of nowhere can be a good thing. As long as she doesn't spook, he may come closer.

The buck was upwind of me and the doe, and she wasn't going to walk over and introduce herself, so the only course of action was for the buck to move toward her. He made a slow approach, and my arrow was nocked on the bow string, and my Gator Jaw release was attached.

She turned as if to leave, and the buck moved quickly to intercept her. The buck popped out of the tags like a jack-in-the-box, and after many sightings, there he was 20 yards away.

The moment of truth

I let him move slightly, and offer a quartering-away shot. My sight was nestled low behind his front shoulder, and as that leg moved forward for another step, I laid my finger on the release trigger.

The buck moved right at that instant, turning away, and such low percentage shots seldom produce. I waited for him to turn and offer a quartering-away shot, but the doe walked over to him and they walked away like two old lovers walking side-bt-side down the street. It had been a close call, but the buck had won another round.

There is a great deal of satisfaction in hunting one specific buck, and having everything eventually work out or fall apart because of a doe's action. I've hunted numerous bucks where great planning just didn't work, and that is why they call this hunting, not killing.

If we were to succeed every time we hunted, bow hunting would soon cease to hold any appeal. The challenge of hunting one buck to the exclusion of all others is what works for me, even if an entire season passes without a shot.

More To Hunting Than Killing ((Dave Richey, Michigan, Outdoors, alders, appeal, bow, buck, doe, kill, memories, past hunts, release))

Posted via email from Dave Richey Outdoors

More To Hunting Than Killing

It's become something of a habit for me. Once the fall hunting season heads into its second month, there's a good chance that once a day I'll remember another hunt from the past where a big buck was taken or an opportunity was lost for one reason or another.

It's this ability to recall past hunts, successful or not, that allow us to wallow through nine months of not hunting deer with a bow. It's rather easy to look at one of the big bucks on my wall, relax, kick back, and dredge up a fond memory or two to help me through the day.

There was a big buck running around my hunting area several years ago, and he was as regular as a dish of prunes. The problem was he was back in thick cover, and would eventually leave it. Each time he stepped out, he was in a slightly different location than days before.

 Hunting a very good buck

All too often he was just a bit too far away for a clean shot, and shooting that 10-pointer wouldn't have been easy. My decision to wait until he exited the tag alders within 20 yards was an easy one to make because I couldn't and wouldn't take a bad shot.

Day after day I'd see him. Sometimes he was close but 10 feet back in the tags, and the next day he would be 65 yards away. I believe he bedded in those alders, and moved around a bit  each day. Deer don't always bed down in the same location, and this guy championed the art of bedding and exiting tags in a different spot from day to day.

This buck was a tempting rascal but I'd hunt other blinds to avoid becoming patterned at this nearby spot. I was always downwind of him, but it was always just before shooting time ended when he stepped out. I felt he occasionally would make his move a little earlier, and it was a matter of being there when he did. Hopefully, his move would let him step out, and take several steps that may put him within range.

Once I saw his high and wide rack, all glistening white, coming through the tag alders. If he stayed his course, he would come out only 18 yards away and in a perfect location for a good shot.

Looking for a shot

His head swiveled  back and forth as he tested the wind, studied the nearby terrain that day, and his ears were cocking forward and to each side in hopes of getting an early warning of possible danger. He was 4 1/2 years old, and had had many opportunities to practice his moves before coming out to feed.

He kept coming at a very slow pace. There was no hurry-up in this guy. Each move was a well managed lesson in tactical survival. He'd take a step, stop, stand motionless for a minute or two, and then take another cautious step or two.

The buck would hold his head high, lower it to change the angle of his gaze, and move again. He had all the patience of a stalking alley cat, and moved as if he was ready to bolt at any second. Bolting wasn't what I wanted him to do, but sometimes these things happen.

Suddenly he stopped, and gazed hard at something nearby. A big mature doe had walked out of the brush on the other side of my stand, and was standing there, watching the buck. Live decoys like this doe that had appeared out of nowhere can be a good thing. As long as she doesn't spook, he may come closer.

The buck was upwind of me and the doe, and she wasn't going to walk over and introduce herself, so the only course of action was for the buck to move toward her. He made a slow approach, and my arrow was nocked on the bow string, and my Gator Jaw release was attached.

She turned as if to leave, and the buck moved quickly to intercept her. The buck popped out of the tags like a jack-in-the-box, and after many sightings, there he was 20 yards away.

The moment of truth

I let him move slightly, and offer a quartering-away shot. My sight was nestled low behind his front shoulder, and as that leg moved forward for another step, I laid my finger on the release trigger.

The buck moved right at that instant, turning away, and such low percentage shots seldom produce. I waited for him to turn and offer a quartering-away shot, but the doe walked over to him and they walked away like two old lovers walking side-bt-side down the street. It had been a close call, but the buck had won another round.

There is a great deal of satisfaction in hunting one specific buck, and having everything eventually work out or fall apart because of a doe's action. I've hunted numerous bucks where great planning just didn't work, and that is why they call this hunting, not killing.

If we were to succeed every time we hunted, bow hunting would soon cease to hold any appeal. The challenge of hunting one buck to the exclusion of all others is what works for me, even if an entire season passes without a shot.

((tag: Dave Richey, Michigan, Outdoors, alders, appeal, bow, buck, doe, kill, memories, past hunts, release))

Posted via email from Dave Richey Outdoors

Uncommon Fishing Experiences

Strange things happen while fishing, and many are remembered long after a limit catch has been caught, bragged about and eaten.

It was about this time of year 30 years ago when I was trolling Manistee Lake near Filer City with brother George, and Randy Colvin of Flint. We were trolling X-4, X-5 and U-20 FlatFish at putt-putt speeds.

I was trolling a U-20 silver FlatFish off the starboard side, Colvin was pulling a U-20 in grey-pearl off the port side, and George was using some weight and was fishing a chartreuse with red spot U-20 right behind the boat while running the outboard motor.

An against all-odds catch

It was a cold and blustery day when Colvin had a jarring strike. I began reeling my line in immediately when I felt the boat rock as he set the hook, and his line broke from a too-tight drag and too much hook-set. I'd made about 10 turns on the spinning reel handle when my rod tip shot down, and I was into a jumping fish that cleared the water behind the boat.

George reeled up, Randy reeled in his broken line, and that steelhead and I had a good battle. I gradually worked him out into deeper water, and soon he was swimming in circles 10 feet below the boat. I eased him to the surface where George slid a net under the fish.

No big deal here. But imagine our surprise when we learned that one small treble hook point of my lure went through the line-tie of Colvin's FlatFish. The odds of such a thing happening are well off the charts.

He howled that it was his fish, and me being a reasonable gent, suggested that his over-zealous hook-set and my finely timed retrieve was what led to my cleverly inserting a hook point of my lure through the line tie of his lure. Thus, any reasonable person should know that not only did I land the fish but also gained a new fishing lure.

I relented, after further reasonable thought, and gave him back his lure. I kept the fish. That seemed only fair to me.

Hooking the same big Chinook salmon three times

Another time, during my river guiding career from 1967 through 1976, I had occasion to fish the Betsie River with a fly rod and wet flies for chinook salmon. My clients had caught a bunch of fish, and being thoroughly tuckered out from running up and downstream after fish, had pulled up stakes after two days and went home.

A huge king was spotted upstream from a tree that had toppled into the water, and he was holding court with a big hen. I hooked that old boy once, and he ripped and snorted downstream, tangling my line in the fallen tree branches, and broke off.

I fished elsewhere for an hour, went back to the big king, and he was back out guarding the redd. I changed fly colors, rolled the dark fly in front of his nose, and he darted out to grab it. I set the hook, he uncorked a tremendous leap that landed him in the tree branches again. The line broke like sewing thread.

Two hours passed before I stopped by to pay him another visit. There he lay, alongside the nearly spent female, and they rolled up on their sides in unison, she discharging a stream of golden eggs while he let loose a cloud of white milt. They spawned until her eggs were exhausted and he could only muster one tiny puff of milt.

They had ended their spawning chores, and death would soon follow. I eased into the river again, made one cast, and the big male moved forward to intercept it. I set the hook, set it again, and literally forced him across the surface toward me. He slipped past me as I steered him clear of the tree branches and into the open river.

He headed downstream like a barge drifting out of control, and I followed him as fast as humanly possible. He rolled to the surface, thrashed around, turned sideways to the current, and he let the swift water carry him down to a deep hole. I knew the hole was clean of debris, and carried the fight to the now sluggish fish.

It was perhaps not the most noble end to his life, but he had fulfilled his destiny and would soon die, his carcass tumbling end over end downstream until it lodged in a log jam. I eased him toward shore, skidded his massive head up on shore, picked him up by the tail and it was over.

That fish, two hours later, weighed an honest 38 1/2 pounds on certified scales, a major catch on a fly and fly rod and 10-pound tippet. It's said that salmon are born orphans and die childless.

And that is a true fact, and I'd like to think this great fish (the largest Chinook salmon I've landed on a fly rod) graced my life and died in an honorable fight rather than succumbing to the wasting-away process that befalls all salmon. He blessed my life with his presence and his strength, and that memory will live with me until my death.

Three big brook trout from Algonquin Provincial Park

One last topic concerns a trip to Ontario's Algonquin Provincial Park for brook trout. My wife Kay and I hiked into a sparkling little lake as I carried a canoe on my shoulders. We began a slow tour along the first dropoff out from shore, and cast copper-color Devle Dogs toward shore.

Kay hooked the first brook trout on one of those Eppinger spoons, and it fought a stubborn battle on six-pound line, and I eventually netted a 5 1/2-pound lake brookie. It had broad shoulders abd within five minutes she caught another fish of about the same size.

Two hours later we pulled up to a big boulder along shore, and got out of the canoe to stretch our legs. My third cast produced a jarring strike, and a few minutes later I eased a five-pound brook ashore.

We fished the rest of the day without a strike but the size of those three brook trout have seldom been equaled elsewhere. It produced wonderful memories we'll both remember for many years.

Uncommon Fishing Experiences ((tag: Dave Richey, Michigan, Outdoors, brook trout, canoe, Chinook salmon, Devle Dogs, FlatFish, fly fishing, trolling))

Posted via email from Dave Richey Outdoors

Hunting Pre-Rut Bucks

Pre-rut deer are like a walking billboard. They advertise themselves in many ways, and savvy hunters may want to bone up on some of the pertinent data that bucks leave behind as they travel around their home turf.

Deer scrapes are where you can find them during the pre-rut. Those scrapes found along field edges often are "boundary scrapes" that mark the edge of a deer's normal range. They are usually small, and somewhat regularly spaced along a wooded field edge.

A deer will open them up, and may never return again. They serve little purpose other than to mark their personal range. I've seen cases where 10 or 12 scrapes will follow a field edge, and once opened, they are never touched again. A string of boundary scrapes should not be confused with a scrape line or a rub line.

When do bucks visit hot scrapes?

The really hot and active scrapes may be visited several times every day, and most of them will be found in fairly thick, heavy cover although some of the largest scrapes I've ever seen were located in a grove of sparse pines.

The scrapes in that area were all as big as a washtub, and every one had fresh urine, a hoof print and antler tine marks in them. Each one had a licking branch directly above the scrape, and most of the nearby pine trees were nearly girdled by the rakings of a large buck. Know this that a really big and hot buck may yank the licking branch down but I've had great success by tying a new limb in its place

I hunted that area several times over two years, and eventually the big rubs and scrapes disappeared. The buck was working on trees 10 to 12 inches in diameter. It would take a huge buck to do that kind of damage, and I never heard of such a buck being taken and it's likely he died of old age. He may never have been seen.

Some tips on scrapes and what they can tell you

Some of what follows may seem elementary but it's important stuff to know. Fresh and actively maintained scrapes are round or oval in shape, and sometimes one will overlap into another scrape. The ground is pawed away until all grass, leaves and twigs are scattered away.

Nearby trees often feature smooth bark but I've seen many rubs on cedar and pine trees as well as popple, tag alder and maple.

A scrape offers great indications about when the buck is visits and works the scrape, and the clues are easy to spot. Most, if not all, of the pawing will be done in one direction. The dirt, grass, leaves and twigs will pile up at one end of the scrape.

If the dirt is piled up at the end of the scrape closest to thick cover, it usually means the buck is visiting it in late afternoon or early evening while leaving his bedding cover. Dirt piled at the end closest to open feeding fields often are visited in the early morning as the buck heads for heavy cover to bed down.

New or old? Good question, and easily answered. Some scrapes are made, and then abandoned. Perhaps the animal was spooked by a hunter, and went elsewhere. Active scrapes are damp with urine, and often feature one or more hoof-prints and/or antler tine marks.

Old and abandoned scrapes fill in with grass and fallen leaves. An active scrape will be cleaned of all debris once to several times a day, because this is where the buck wants to meet an estrus doe. Of course, bucks and does often meet in open fields or woodlands but the initial contact usually occurs near an active scrape.

Scrape hunting can be exciting

Watching a buck work a scrape is really neat. A young buck knows he is supposed to be doing something but he doesn't have a clue. A buck with some age will often wind-check the scrape from downwind, and if it appears to have been visited by an estrus doe, the buck will tend the scrape.

He will paw the dirt, nibble on the overhead licking branch, rub his forehead scent glands on the overhead branches, urinate in the scrape, paw and stomp it into mud, and hang around nearby. This is when a hunter may get a chance for a shot if he is positioned properly.

Some does often hang close by waiting for the buck, and sometimes, the buck will follow the doe's trail. Such tending bucks often give a low grunt as they follow the hot trail. Bucks usually wind-check active scrapes 20-30 yards downwind of the scrape. The hunter, if he sits 40 yards downwind of the scrape can often  intercept the buck coming through and wind-checking as he walks through the arera

Scrapes full of debris are not being used. Scrapes can go from hot to cold overnight, and a previously active scrape that shows no use provides hunters with another important clue. An active scrape that suddenly shows no use means just one thing: the rut has started.

Rut hunting is a fascinating time to be afield but remember the hours of 10 a.m. and 2 p.m. are mid-day hours that bucks prefer. The bucks can appear at any time during the day, and watching a randy old buck hot on the trail of a young doe gives us all hope. Maybe, just maybe, she will lead him past our stand.

One can only hope. Waylaying a nice buck near a scrape does happen but the hunter must always be ready. Big bucks rarely offer a second chance.

Posted via email from Dave Richey Outdoors

Do Thought Waves Spook Deer?

Ever see a buck coming through the woods and suddenly it turns and runs off for no apparent reason?  Have you ever had a doe upwind of your stand stop, snort, blow, stomp her foot and run off even though the wind was right and you hadn't moved?

Sure you have. The  topic of discussion that follows may disturb some hunters, could cause other sportsmen to wonder if this topic is true, and if so, how does it happen?

Trust me on this: This topic will be a quantum leap for some deer hunters when they read it. I've stated these opinions at deer-hunting seminars over many years, and some folks sit with their mouth agape in total disbelief.They look as if they've been sucker-punched.

Don't bail out on me just yet. These thoughts, if you choose to accept and think logically about them, may make you a much better deer hunter. We'll be talking more about your mental thoughts rather than physical actions.

My many years of testing this theory

It's not important that hunters believe as I do, but over 30-plus years I've tested this theory on countless occasions. Each time it's tested, the result is the same. I strongly believe what follows is true, and all I expect of readers is to study it and decide if they believe and trust these findings.

Know this before we go any further. There is much that modern science doesn't know about the brain, brain waves, and how it affects people and many of the wild animals that we hunt.

My thoughts on spooking deer

Here goes: I believe, being a supremely capable and knowledgable predator, that deer -- especially does -- can sense the presence of danger without the benefit of movement, noise or scent or other stimuli. I once hunted mountain lions in northern Arizona, and my guide told me the reason he feels cougars kill mostly mule deer bucks is because those deer are so full of themselves they act and feel immune to any possible danger.

They are not alert or attuned to the presence of danger. Does, on the other hand, are constantly alert to the possibility of nearby predators.

My thoughts are pretty straight-forward. I believe that thinking hard about killing an incoming buck or doe can transfer some type of danger signal to the animals. Are human thoughts carried by brain waves? Do these vibes, for lack of a better description, throw out a silent alarm that does can pick it up much easier than bucks?

Clear your mind of all predatory thoughts

I never think, after spotting an incoming buck or doe, that I am going to shoot that animal. My brain stays in neutral, idling along without conscious thought. I purposely avoid thinking about shooting and killing the animal. I may and often do spend that time thinking about my next article to be written.

My belief is to never stare at a buck or doe. Looking into a deer's eyes seems to allow that animal to feel nearby human presence. My thoughts remain neutral, and when I draw, aim and shoot, I'm concentrating on my aiming point but am not thinking about killing the animal.

Testing this theory over many years has proven informative. My normal hunting method is to allow my eyes to sweep over the deer without lingering on any part of its head or body. It's easy to establish the animal is a buck if antlers are visible, and that data is stored in my mind. I know it is a buck but no longer think about it, and I never dwell on such thoughts, which I feel are counterproductive to my hunting success.

Instead, I think about going hunting the next night, which stand may be productive under the current wind direction, or I'll recall something that has absolutely nothing to do with hunting. I could just as easily be thinking about painting the basement walls, which is a horrid thought, even when trying to fool a nice buck.

My means of nonviolent thoughts

However, my mind knows why I'm out there, and that is to possibly shoot a buck or doe. However, my mind focuses on another thought or topic, or on nothing at all, and when it tells me it's time to shoot, the bow is drawn, the red-dot settles behind the front shoulder and the arrow is gone before my mind tells my finger to shoot.

The deer never senses a threat or any unease. It doesn't feel my predatory instincts coming its way, and the deer remains relaxed. Calm and cool thoughts or even not thinking at all is far preferable than telling yourself that the shot will go through its lungs and heart. That may happen, but if you don't think hard on it, I'm convinced the deer will not bolt unless you move or make a sound at the wrong time.

On the other hand, I've often thought about killing the buck as a specific test. I'll think: Here comes a buck, and look at those antlers. My eyes scan the bone on the buck's head, and then I strongly focus my attention on the heart-lung area.

The buck, suddenly alert, turns his head to look around. My eyes lock on his, a predator against a nice buck. His head turns slowly away, and I come to full draw, think about driving the arrow into the chest cavity, and at about that time, the animal suddenly bolts off in panicked flight.

There has been no noise or sudden movements on my part, and no way the deer could smell me. But my thoughts were keenly focused on shooting that animal, and perhaps these strong thoughts come because of my many years of hunting experience shooting many deer. Perhaps my vibes are stronger than those of others who have largely been unsuccessful at deer hunting.

A human example to illustrate my point

Think of it this way. I no longer drink, but back in the day, my entering a bar was always an experience. If I was a stranger, I'd immediately sense the vibes of many other people looking at me, and then would come a strong feeling that someone was staring intently in my direction. With practiced determination, my eyes would scan the room until the person staring at me was located.

It was then I'd size up the situation. Is this a friendly person or one who wants to put knuckle bumps on my noggin? If I sense agitation or aggressive hostility, I'd turn and walk out while it's possible. It's the same thing with deer. Flight is always preferable to a fight.

An example of street smarts

In some areas they often say a person has "street smarts." Why, pray tell, don't deer have "woods smarts?" They do, and their instincts are more finely honed toward survival than yours or mine.

If deer sense danger, however it is transmitted to them, it becomes an instinctive reaction. It's like an adrenalin rush: it triggers the fight or flight response. Deer don't grow large antlers by ignoring these little niggling feelings. I draw the line at granting deer human-like qualities, but am convinced these animals can pick up hostile vibes from someone trying to shoot it with a bow.

Deer can do the same thing as humans although how they process this invisible information is an unknown factor. Years ago, while shooting some of the deer photos needed for magazine and newspaper stories, the deer would hear the shutter click, look around, and nothing happened. Minutes later another photo or two would be taken, and the deer would become used to the noise. Nothing happens, and they would soon relax.

It's strange but deer seem to sense when a hunter or photographer means no harm, and while an old doe may go charging off, if they are not unduly alarmed, they often return within minutes.

Deer that sense a hunter intent on shooting them can get as freaky as a mule deer doe when she suspects a nearby cougar. She doesn't want to be dinner, and takes whatever evasive actions are necessary to avoid the predator. Bucks, on the other hand, seem unaware of danger unless it picks up some predatory vibes, catches a whiff of human odor or sees some movement.

This is where it becomes extremely important to remain in a non-predatory mind set. Think about killing, and things can quickly change and game can vanish.

A quick recap

Never look deer in the eye, never think about shooting them, scan past the animal, never put a lingering stare on the deer or its antlers, and if I'm about to shoot, my mind is emptied of all predatory thoughts. Ninety-five percent (or more) of the deer that have fallen to my arrows were dead before they knew their lives were in danger.

I repeat: it's not necessary that you or anyone believe this, and hunters can continue to hunt as they choose. However, when I hunt, my purpose is to get close to deer, never get them excited, and if the right buck comes by, I'll take the shot. Cougars hunt the same way and they are far more deadly predators than most humans.

It's quite likely this may be the most radical bit of deer hunting material you'll read this year. I'm not trying to change your hunting style or your mind-set, but ask you to consider an alternative line of thinking when deer approach. Many of the key hunters in North America, if pinned to the floor with a painful hammerlock, will agree with these thoughts. All I'm taking is your time (the line from an old song), and my hopes are you'll give this the mental consideration it deserves.

Feel free to share your thoughts. Do you agree or disagree? Your comments, please. E-mail me your thoughts at < dave@daverichey.com >. Thank you for your time.

Posted via email from Dave Richey Outdoors