Tree stand hunting....Wyoming style

After all the backcountry and long hikes. There is nothing more enjoyable than ending your season in the lowlands on a more relaxing hunt. Deer sightings are regular and you get to enjoy a little rut action. Now this isn't your regular tree-stand whitetail hunt, although I prefer to be elevated.

With a little homework, I find myself  on a glassing perch...I almost feel like it's cheating after sitting in treestands...this is more like sitting in 100 treestands at once, with all the country you get to look at,,,minus the harnesses and swaying tree. 

I started the season on an elevated perch at first light. A heavy 8-point welcomed me from 300 yards below. He was big enough to shoot but there were still many other deer to look at! By noon, with the help of a tripod, 15x swaros, and some cooler winds, the bucks were on the move and I had seen at least 30 of them. I saw a couple solid deer, but had plans on killing my first 10-point buck...so I kept looking.

I ended up moving to another glassing point and had luck immediately. At one point I had a beautiful 10-point buck walk below me at 200 yards but he looked a bit young. As the sun flirted with the western horizon, the bucks were moving, and I was having the time of my life! A solid buck had appeared from the willows below me. He had a heavy 8-point frame and forked on the top of his g-2, like a mule deer buck. I even noticed a small kicker on one point. I dove behind the gun and got set up for the shot. When he appeared in between brush I grunted loudly and he stopped and looked at me. 

I still don't know if it was his antlers or the young in his face, but I elected to pass. I might still have regrets about it. Not 10 min later, my buck followed a doe from the willow patch. I only got a broadside view and could see he not only had a 10-frame, but an extra as well. From my elevated stand, I let the 6.5 PRC bark at 480 planting two solid shots behind the shoulder. 

Laynees hunt wasn't much different. We could walk around the river bottoms jumping deer OR lay up high and watch the deer in their element. It's a no-brainer as long as you are set-up with the right equipment and shooter. Time with my kids is special. Enough said. Time with my mom is special. Again, enough said. You can imagine how excited I was to have both on this hunt together!

This was Laynees third trip of the year to hunt. The second outing had us sitting on a bedded solid buck from 400 yards. When it stood up it darted for a fleeing doe leaving us in the dust! It was a long 1.5 mile walk back to the truck. This morning was going to be different. She did not want the buck to get away.

We started picking up deer below us including a couple good bucks. The difficulty was getting Laynee a solid shot that wasn't covered in the willows. It was kind of like Whack-a-mole where the buck would come out, she would put a little pressure on the trigger and the buck would then disappear. If anyone knows Laynee, they know she hates failure and this exercise was driving her to tears. Her ability to get on the buck and get dialed in is better than most men my age. My mom, meanwhile, is a monster in the glass. She was picking out deer from the willows like a super-hero.

Finally a buck had given miss Laynee a solid shot at 440 yards and she capitalized. The shot was a hair back but enough to anchor the deer. The fun part was when rather than hiking down to the deer, we had to climb up to the truck and drive 15 miles in order to not cross a river knee deep in late November. We found the deer easier than I thought we would. He ended up being the oldest whitetail I've ever seen in the area. Strange enough, the antlers didn't reflect the age, but the worn down body and teeth to the gums showed a full life, on the downhill side. 

The sun was warm by then and we enjoyed a beautiful afternoon by the river breaking down her deer...three generations of Burrells...two gals that have more spunk and grit than anyone I know. Thanks Mom and Laynee for both being a part of this hunt. It'll be a memory together that will forever bond us.  

limited time redemption

Emily and I had both drawn Wyoming Whitetail buck tags this year, but with lots of other hunts in the mix, Emily's was more of a priority than mine. I did want to see Emily harvest her first Whitetail before I was off on my next hunt to Arizona , but she had been pretty busy with work this fall, so we both felt our only chance would be an afternoon after work to just go. We hopped in the pick up a couple hours before dark and headed to her hunting unit. The spot is awesome, there are always deer there, but you need to stretch your shot out a little bit with the closest shots being around 300 yards.

We settled in the first evening and immediately started seeing good bucks chasing the does around in the greasewood brush. I was super proud when Emily yelled "big buck, big buck!" as she scanned through the binoculars. She directed me into where the buck was and she was right, it was a huge buck. We got her set up for a 360 yard shot. I still don’t know how she missed but it was a complete miss which isn’t like her so we wondered about the rifle's zero. Maybe?  Not too long after and questioning what we should do, another giant buck that I had been watching stepped out. This one was a hair further, but she felt confident with her stability and squeezed the trigger. The buck ran away with it's does unscathed. That night, we walked off the mountain in the dark and had a really enjoyable evening together, but our hearts were heavy with the misses.

I set that rifle aside for further evaluation, and grabbed Molly, the .300 WM. She was ready to go back and try again, but it wouldn’t be for another week. Just before I was going to leave for Arizona we made one more evening whitetail hunt for Emily. She got on a solid block but 10 minutes of wandering and chasing does, without holding still, she never could get the shot. Light was flirting with darkness and it appeared her hunt was about done. I glass two young bucks, not very big, but bucks and asked her if she wanted one last opportunity. She threw the rifle down on the bipod and got set-up. It was around 500 yards and like she always does she drilled the broadside target perfectly and the buck only went a short ways before disappearing in the greasewood. 

If Emily misses, it’s typically a rifle or wind issue, very rarely is it human error. Sometimes I sound like a broken record, but letting her track out her buck, finding it herself, and then her voluntarily breaking down half of the carcass all by yourself, made for such a great evening. I am continually amazed by this girl. She is my favorite hunting partner and truly a good huntress. Like she said when she knelt down next to her deer, "I shot this small buck, so I can only go up from here!"

I had one day for my whitetail buck hunt, I really wanted to just hunt as long as I could, passing some pretty decent bucks throughout the day. In the evening, I spotted a buck tending some does in a special place for me and it seemed like the perfect opportunity, so I made the stalk and was able to harvest that back at just under 300 yards. I had the deer quartered, on my back, and back to the truck right at dark.  The grizzly bear tracks in the area sped up the process quite a bit.

Iowa elevated

Three years ago a man named Jed, from Iowa, walked into my office. He was in Wyoming to help with a prairie dog/black-footed ferret project we had going on at work. He happened to be a big-time hunter and enjoyed the state of Wyoming and its hunting opportunities. Before he left, we exchanged numbers and he encouraged me to apply for whitetail deer archery in Iowa. Well, two years later an archery tag from Iowa showed up in the mail. I’ve been keeping touch with Jed and he's been sending me trail cam pics and keeping me updated, I was really looking forward to this whitetail rut archery hunt as Iowa is known for great big whitetails and corn fields.

I’ve eastern whitetail hunted in Wyoming and Nebraska, but this hunt felt different, I felt like this would be my best opportunity at a big eastern Whitetail. I didn’t practice as much as I should have with my bow but knew that the shots would be 20 to 30 yards which I was practiced up for. The day finally came for me to head east, and after a 12 hour drive, I pulled into Jed’s  driveway. He had killed a giant buck that night out of a tree stand, looking at the mass and overall size of that deer, and it’s antlers, really set the stage for this hunt. Jed is the type of Whitetail hunter that focuses heavily on scent elimination, not through sprays like scent killer, but through keeping your hunting clothing clean in separate containers in the back of your truck as well as cover scent, such as fox urine. He had trail cam pics of multiple bucks,as well as had already set up a handful of ladder stands across multiple properties for us to hunt out of. I felt privileged to be there. Each tree stand could only be sat in with certain wind directions; it my first evening there and I had learned so much already just gleaning info from Jed. 

I was excited for my first morning in the stand, the weather was cold but mostly because you spend your time just sitting. I didn’t know how well I would do with just sitting in one spot from sun up to sundown 15 feet in a tree, but the days flew by and I had plenty of deer sightings, including some decent bucks, but none of them were four years old or older that strolled under the stand. The hours and hours sitting and waiting was somewhat  therapeutic, it forced my mind to ponder and think about things I typically would brush off and avoid. I had sat in the same three or four stands multiple times and was ready for a different view. My day six started in a familiar stand and although I had a couple bucks sightings that morning I felt like I was seeing the same younger-aged deer over and over. The reason for staying in this area was because there were two giant deer, but with the rut in full swing and nobody has seen them for two weeks, so my hope for those two deer was diminishing. 

That late morning I told Jed I wanted to try something different and mentioned another farm that we had looked at, his response was that stand is not the best with this wind but it would probably do. That was good enough for me so off I went. I climbed into the tree stand and it was the warmest day it had been up to that point with a cold front coming the next day. My clothing I had been wearing and keeping clean of scent were big coveralls and with 61° I was sweating even just sitting in the tree stand. shortly after getting to the stand, I had seen a small buck chasing a doe off to my left 100 yards flashing through the edge of a cedar patch which is where the does were likely bedded. I also watched a small flock of Tom turkeys work their way around my stand. After two hours of sitting in the stand and still an hour or two before the magical evening time, I caught a flash of deer leg behind some thicker trees 80 yards off my right. Just knowing it being a single deer, I assumed it was a buck trolling for love. I grabbed my bow like I had practiced so many times for the past six days, I swivel my body backwards onto the platform of the tree stand as I would be shooting off the right side. 

I noticed a flash of antler and knew he would be coming out of the thick trees at around 20 yards, hopefully in an opening. He did just that, and when I grunted and saw the mass and point length, I knew he was a mature buck well beyond what I could have expected. I released the sevr expandable broadhead and watched the arrow hit it’s mark at 22 yards. I can’t remember shaking that bad anytime recent. The pure adrenaline of up close with the bow after six days of hoping and waiting is hard to describe. 

I contacted Jed and by the  tone of his voice, he might’ve been as excited as I was. He met me at the base of the tree stand and we picked up the blood trail and found him just over 100 yards from where I shot him, he was piled up dead. I’m still blown away with the sheer body size, over 300 pounds, and the mass of the antlers on those Iowa whitetails. If I never kill another whitetail bigger, I’m good with that; however Jed gave the invitation to start applying again so no I have something to shoot for! 

I still had one more day before I had to go home, we doe hunted in the morning and I passed one up. I asked Jed if we could do a bird hunt, he laughed and said “well yeah, let’s jump in the truck”. We went for a two hour hike and easily filled our limits of roosters, the longest tailed wild roosters I’ve ever been around. It was phenomenal. Jed was a super host and an extremely knowledgeable Whitetail hunter, and to learn from his knowledge has lit a flame under me to go hunt giant whitetails again elevated in those Iowa hardwoods. Thanks Jed, until next time.

Thankful

This Thanksgiving I found myself grateful for friends, children, and hunting tradition. For a couple years now, I've had an idea. An idea to invite multiple families up to Cody to spend Thanksgiving,  and have a big whitetail hunting party, with the goal of fun, lots of good venison, and a picture that resembles those old hunting pictures from the early 20th century with a group of people and a line of dead deer behind them.

With whitetail in Wyoming, you can typically draw multiple tags in a given year and they are delicious. We invited Tyler Berry, The Zierenbergs, and the Crosby's. Including their children, there were 15 guests, and somewhere around 21 whitetail tags. Although I was certain we'd all tire, and fill our coolers, before killing 21 whitetails I knew we'd have a blast meanwhile. 

Thanksgiving morning was going to be the first hunt. I decided I'd tag along with the Crosby's to show them around a bit. We are hunting private ground but there is public access on all of them. I'm going to rewind before Thanksgiving a bit... I had just killed my whitetail buck days prior to everyone arriving. I might as well tell my buck story now:

My buck hunt was short, about a two hour evening hunt is all. I hiked to a small bentonite knob that looked over an expansive greasewood patch alongside the Greybull river that the whiteys liked to bed in. I locked the binos on the tripod and immediately started picking up does and bucks. The rut was on and strong!!

Once I had my eyes on multiple mature bucks running does around, I convinced myself I wasn't going to be too picky and I would be shooting a buck that evening. Knowing the other family's kids were going to hunt the same area in a couple days, I wanted to get in, kill, and get out and let things settle down. I was pleased there were multiple bucks I could choose from, but I kept my eye on a large-framed 8-point buck. Although his body was giant, a smaller-statured buck had just chased him away from some hot does. My buck was watching the other buck dominate the scene when I decided to take him at 480 yards. He immediately dropped unnoticed by the other deer, who continued their annual rutting ritual. With the risk of being accused of blasphemy from my mule deer aficionados (like myself), each time I walk up on a whitetail I silently confess that they are more striking than the mule deer and the blacktail. I quartered and packed out the heavy buck getting to the truck right at dark.    

Back to Thanksgiving morning...Chris, his son Chayton, and I parked at first light and made our way towards the same bentonite knob. Before we could get there in the growing morning light, we could make out multiple groups of deer scattered between the large alfalfa field and the greasewood patch, including some nice bucks. One buck, tending a doe, out in the pivot field stuck out as one of the bigger deer in view, but it was keeping a safe distance around 800 yards from us. There was a lot going on as deer were in and out of the greasewood and we were catching flashes of multiple bucks.

We decided to keep an eye on Mr. Big in the pivot but still make our way to the knob hoping he'd eventually come our way towards the cover of the greasewood patch below us. There was a lot of excitement as we walked slowly and glassed all the action. "There's a hunter behind the buck along the river!" someone said. We focused in on a nimrod in a big orange parka who lookd to be eyeing the same big buck in the pivot field but he was much closer. The buck's does were alert on the hunter, but the buck was busy standing above a bedded doe that probably hoped the hunter would shoot this buck off of her. 

We were sick thinking love was going to be the demise of this buck from some goofy hunter in the middle of an open field. The hunter, with no binoculars, rested his rifle on some sort of stick/pole he had, The crack of the rifle alerted all of the deer in the area, but the buck still stood. Fortunately the hunter wasn't a very good hunter, he missed. Seconds later, the hot doe finally stood to follow the other does heading towards the greasewood! Get ready Chayton! 

The buck escaped into the waist-high grass making it hard to see by the other hunter at ground-level. Fortunately for us, we were elevated and ready. 470 yards and put it right on him. The buck dropped in it's tracks nearly in the same place I killed my buck a few days earlier. We knew it was a dandy buck, but he grew as we walked up on him. He's an exceptional buck for the area. It was great as Chayton confessed he has always wanted to kill a whitetail more than anything else. He did a fine job!

 

That same morning Jared had his oldest daughter Autumn hunting in the same area. In fact, while we were field-dressing Chayton's buck, Autumn shot and missed a good buck that almost ran us over while escaping. Thanksgiving morning, Autumn filled both of her tags just minutes apart, a doe and a buck, which made us a little late for Thanksgiving dinner, but it was worth it!

Thanksgiving dinner was great. It was fun to get all our children together as it's been a while since we've got them together. We haven't ever got together with the Crosby family so they were a great addition. All the kids played games inside and outside till they were exhausted. Our Hunter came home from Laramie and hung out with all of us as well. It was great to see him also. I wish the Burrell children spent more time with us in the woods hunting as both Roo and Hunter had whitetail tags but they were busy playing and doing other things. I think all the kids had a stellar time together which was the ultimate goal in my mind.

The next couple days were a blur. Those that wanted to hunt were out filling tags while Emily and Crystal graciously stayed back with young children and whoever wanted to do other things like the Christmas parade downtown Cody and Black Friday. We filled many a tags enduring some snowy weather. The deer were plentiful and before we knew it Sunday morning arrived, when everyone was to travel home. All in all, 6 different hunters killed their very first whitetail and we got our vintage picture we were hoping for.

I'm thankful for my children, their health, and their love. I'm thankful for having a such beautiful person that walks through this life with me by my side. I'm thankful for my parents and their examples they've been to me. I'm thankful for good friends that are lighthouses in my life, all of them in one way or another. I'm thankful for my job. I'm also thankful to live in wonderful state of Wyoming surrounded by public lands and strong game populations. I'm thankful for a strong independent country that is in strong support of the North American wildlife conservation model that allows us to manage our precious wildlife through hunting and gathering. Life is good.