An adventurous hunt for Saskatchewan Black Bears

Growing up in central Georgia, most of my big game hunting had consisted of deer, and turkey, which made my first archery black bear hunt, a few years back in the brush country of Saskatchewan an overwhelming adventure.

The habitat that these beastly bruins live in there in the North Country is un-spoiled by the buzzing of planes, and the hum of traffic. Only few households can be heard in the distance disturbing the serenity that only Mother Nature can provide. Soft gentle breezes carry the pungent but yet sweet aroma of swamp ground and evergreen trees. These scents constantly tickle your nostrils almost creating a cure for the strains that everyday life can bring upon you. This environment as you can imagine is the utmost in relaxation for the mind and spirit of an outdoorsman. But be aware, and always expecting the transition from calm and collective, to heart-throbbing and nerve racking when the sight of a dark shadow emerges in the thick brush within sight of your blind, as it cautiously makes its way closer and closer through the maze of almost impenetrable thick green vegetation.

I having experienced this whirlwind change of emotion, and felt the thrill of success after taking my first P&Y bruin have now become addicted to hunting bear. And when the chance came available once again to return to the Canadian forest during the 1999 spring bear season, I did not hesitate to commit myself to yet another highly anticipated journey.

THE CREW
You know its been said that the success of a hunt is not to be judged by what the harvest is, but more so rated on the experiences and comroderey shared in camp, and that the taking of a trophy animal is a bonus. If this was to be the case, I knew that I was in for a hunt of a lifetime. Joining me on the trip was David Blanton, who not only heads up the television and video department at Realtree, but is also one of my dearest friends. Along with him were his two boys Harmon(9), and Alex(7) as well as David’s father Don Blanton. Rick Belcher a long time friend of Don and David was also present and accompanied by his son Austin(8). Realtree’s foremost consultant to Monster Bucks in Texas, Mr. Bill Whitefield was also there making his first ever quest for a black bear with a bow and arrow.

Brian and Sylvia Hoffart of Green Lake Saskatchewan were to be our host. Brian and Sylvia were no strangers to us at Realtree; we had always depended on them to provide incredible hunts for our cameras. Through the years they have not only built a solid reputation of treating their clients to hunts of a lifetime, but they have also become like family to the Realtree crew.

David and I had plans of videoing each other, both taking turns with the camera until the two of us filled our tags. Don, Bill and Rick were all in camp with one goal in mind, to slam a big black bear whether it be caught on tape are not. The three boys’ were all on there first hunting trip. Just the simple fact that they could stay up as late as they wanted was enough to excite them, but with an abundant supply of fishing gear brought along, they certainly would have the opportunity to get in on some of the best walleye and northern pike fishing around. Our lodge was on the bank of Green Lake.

The first night we arrived, Mrs. Sylvia made sure we were all fed well by preparing a scrumptious meal in which we all ate well over the normal amount that any sane person would dare to take in at one setting. After we all got settled in our rooms and comfortably lay in our beds, we all found it hard to sleep because anticipation of what was to come had grabbed hold of our thoughts. Our eagerness to see bear was equal to a kid getting ready to go in a candy store with a twenty-dollar bill.

Let the Bear hunting begin
Due to the long days and normally poor movement of bear during morning hours, Brian suggested that we start by just hunting the afternoons. This was fine by everyone and guaranteed two things, plenty of sleep, and ample time to set the hook on some hungry walleye and northern pike.

So, sleep and fish we did on the first morning being very productive at both a might add. The walleye were hitting and Brain guided us to one his favorite holes, and within no time we had limited out on the species. Bill Whitfield, (who by now had no choice but to go by the name of Mr. Whitetail which was given to him by David’s younger son Alex for the simply reason that it was easier for him to pronounce) had showed us all up by catching not only the most fish but also the biggest. It is easy to imagine how quickly bragging rights, and bets were established and we were only in our first day of the trip.

Back at camp we all pitched in and cleaned our healthy stringer of fish. Mrs. Sylvia cooked them up for lunch along with some other great side dishes. After the meal we spent the next couple of hours shooting our bows and preparing our gear for the first after noon hunt.

David and I flipped a coin to see who would be hunting or running the camera. David called the toss right and won the decision to hunt first.

Brian took us to an area where earlier in the year one of his hunters had seen a whopper of a boar that he figured would push the four hundred-pound mark. The stand location was several miles back in the dark timber which was thick with dense cover, but yet offered enough openness for our camera to have a fair view of approaching bear. Brian informed us that the breeding season was in full swing and to keep our eyes and ears open for boars on the prowl looking for a girlfriend.

After absorbing all the advice we could from Brian on the rut and judging trophy bruins we quietly got all the video equipment secured in the tree and ourselves settled in our climax loc-on stands.

Before we could hardly even get still, David informed me of a black blotch he had spotted moving through the forest. Sure enough as our eyes focused on the object it quickly took full form of a medium sized boar heading directly toward us. The bear gently, cautiously strolled toward the bait that Brian just previously had freshened up. Right before he got to his destination, I heard a small stick break behind us. I turned my head only to find another bear coming in. Unbelievably, in no time there were three bear within shooting range. The evening’s action stayed non-stop for four hours straight with a total of eight different bear making appearances, and even though some of bear that had come within range were respectable, we decided to hold off on taking a shot; however, this was not the climax of the evening.

Just after we lost video light we slowly started letting our gear down, making sure we kept the undisturbed woods as peaceful as possible. My camera had just been lowered to the turf when we heard guttural clunking sounds, (almost like that of a bull elk when he gathers his heard), out in the thick brush behind us. Soon we could hear the sound and commotion of bear running through the woods. It seemed apparent that it was two different bear making no attempt to be silent in their behavior. Our eyes strained to focus in the almost pitch black forest. They were on top of us before we could even make them out, but we soon noticed the forms of two objects both blacker than night itself within twenty yards of our stand. The first bear was large, but it appeared to be a female. Our heart and nerves were put to the test as we tried to make out the second bear still in the thicket. And then without hesitation it stepped out into the clearing. The feeling that overcame us was different than anything we had ever experienced. We were face to face with a monstrous bruin, who was obviously totally committed to getting a date with the sow. It had to be the boar Brian had told us about, but we were simply out of daylight and all we could do was watch the overwhelming creature taut us. My emotions were the same as when a big whitetail buck is within range only different in the sense that fear was present. Maybe it was because of my being a rookie to bear hunting, but I knew that the creature that was now almost directed under our stand was king of the Canadian forest and with one blow from his powerful paw could send full sized whitetail deer to his death.

As quickly as he had appeared he soon vanished into the silent, dark Saskatchewan wilderness. Even though we had not bagged a bear, our first evening was a success.

David gets his chance
The next evening without hesitation we decided to return to the same location to try and get a crack at the huge boar. We knew even though he had proved to be still using the area, that there was no guarantee that he would come running in again, especially with the knowledge that sows in heat could cause him to be anywhere.

Sitting in our stands David and I enjoyed soaking in the peacefulness of the Canadian forest. It was nice to get a chance to unwind, but before we could get to relaxed David caught movement to our right. It was a bear all right, but not black in color. Quickly, but quietly as possible I powered up the Realtree camera and started rolling tape on what appeared to be a big cinnamon bear. Carefully and steadily the big colored bear moved toward shooting range being recorded on tape the whole time. The cinnamon was not as big as the black bear we had encountered the evening before, but he was for sure in the two hundred and fifty-pound range and his coat was absolutely gorgeous. David made the decision to take the bear if a shot was presented which looked very good at this point. Adrenaline was flowing through our veins. It was game time. I concentrated on keeping the camera steady and David started to put pressure on his bow string as he waited on his chance to draw, the bear was now twenty-five yards and closing. The bruin seemed to go in slow motion as he worked his way closer eroding away five more yards. At twenty yards the cinnamon turned broadside in a clearing and looked away. David brought his bow to full draw, settled his top pin on the bears vitals and squeezed off a perfect shot. Through the lens I had captured it all. Soon after the bear had gone out of sight we heard him crash and the Canadian wilderness once again resumed to its normal silence. There was no doubt, David’s shot had done its job.

Forty five minutes later we started tracking the bear only to find that he had went around 50 yards before piling up. David’s traditional and enthusiastic “alright, that is awesome” could have been heard back in Georgia. All grins behind the camera as David recovered his huge cinnamon bruin, I knew that the hunt had just begun. It was now my turn to pick up the bow and arrow, and to make things even better, all the pressure was off—-we had a successful hunt on tape.

The pressure is off (Michael’s turn)
There is nothing like the feeling of having no worries, pressure, or stress, and that is exactly what David and I had as we started the third day of our hunt with Brian and Sylvia Hoffart. (the only remote worry we had was the increasing weight gain we were experiencing after eating all of Sylvia’s fine cooking)

The spirit around camp was festive and the three boys had even went as far as to decorate the trees along the lakes edge with spinnerbaits and jigs using the closest tackle box to supply their needs. (Obviously this decorating was not done on purpose)

Everyone was seeing plenty of bear and the fish continued to bite.

Brian thought long and hard as David and I loaded up in his pick up truck. Then he turned to me in a confident grin, and asked “how would you guys like to try for another colored bear”? “Man yeah!”, I blurted out so quickly and immaturely that I almost felt stupid. Brain went on to tell us about a big blond bear that was using an area North of the lodge that he thought we might be able to catch on video. He explained the area that the bear was using to be fairly open, which would make for some good footage if he showed up. Discussing the evening to come as we traveled to the remote location had caused me to almost hyperventilate with anticipation, and by the time we got settled in our stands, I had to take a few deep breaths to calm myself down.

My eyes searched far and near trying to pick up any movement of a potential bear. Then finally after sitting in our blinds for around two and a half hours, David and I both caught movement at the same time to our left about a hundred yards up a grown up road. We could not believe it, the bear that worked his way closer to our position was almost white in color with the exception of chocolate brown legs and feet. Brian once again had proved to be precise with his scouting. My heart was beating like a base drum in a rock & roll band as the blond bear cut the distance if half. David informed me that he was rolling tape and I hooked my release on the string of my Jennings bow readying myself for a shot. Just out of range the bruin held up and became very cautious, like he knew something wasn’t right, but then he began to move our way once more. He was coming out into a clearing at a distance of fifteen yards when he eyes started climbing our tree. Tilting his head almost straight up, he had us pegged. We felt like amateur poker players bluffing with a busted hand. Deliberately, slowly the monster shifted his weight from his front to his back turning around and like a shot from a gun he exploded back down the road into the thick brush. Our emotions we floored and we were in disbelief. We sat the rest of the evening without seeing another bear with “What ifs?” constantly going through our heads. As dark settled on the forest and the shadows grew dimmer, we prepared ourselves for the next day’s hunt.

Last Chance
The next evening we had high hopes. The wind was in our favor to hunt the same location, attempting once again to go two for two on colored bears.

Just like the afternoon before, the first couple of hours on the stand were fairly dead other than the occasional squirrel running up an evergreen tree.

As the time passed, our minds drifted to individual thoughts, but soon our focus was brought back to the task at hand when the familiar sight of a blond bear coming down the same logging road caught our attention. It was almost like deja vu. The same bear, walking in the same steps, in the same manner closed the distance as he moved toward a shooting lane.

This time I would be ready and I came to full draw awaiting the bear to offer me a shot. I could hear the steady hum of the camera as David taped the approaching bear. My muscles were tight and my breathing was becoming uncontrollable. “Calm down”, I told my self as I struggled to maintain my nerves. He was mine this time and the whole world was going to see me take him. But just as my confidence soared, I once again found myself looking eye to eye with the bruin. He looked at me as if to say-Who do you think you are fooling? And just like the day before turned and ran away. The roller coaster of emotions was enough to almost make me throw up. He had beaten us fair and square and that was all there was to it. David and I discussed what had happened as dark started approaching, but just before the evening concluded, I caught a quick glimpse of what appeared to be another black bear.

The hunt was back on, and suddenly the sighting became concrete as a huge bodied black bear walked out in a clearing. The back of my throat became tight, my leg started to quiver, this was going to be my last chance.

With David’s signal letting me know he had the bear in frame and in focus, I began to draw my bow. Concentrating, I told myself to “pick a spot and follow through”.

The green florescent pin on my sight glowed on the pelt of the pitch-black bruin, as I settled it behind his shoulder. I let the arrow fly and immediately realized that my shot was true as the shaft penetrated up to the fletchings tight in behind his shoulders. The bear ran out of sight before crashing in the thick brush signaling that my Rocky Mountain broadhead had won the battle over him.

I was so pumped I nearly put my safety belt to the test as struggled to stay in the stand. Even though the bear I shot was not the blond, I knew he would be Pope and Young and push three hundred pounds. Our hunt was complete. We had done what we had sought out to do.

Back at camp, the rest of the hunting party met us. Come to find out Rick and Bill (Mr.Whitetail) had both shot pope and young class bears. Rick had shot his with a long bow at ten yards away, and Bill had shot what appeared to be the biggest bear so far. It was a bruiser that had to go over the three hundred-pound mark.

David’s dad Don had also had an encounter with a big boar, and if his homemade cedar shaft, shot from his traditional long bow had been three inches higher he would have been showing him off as well.

That night after dinner as the youngsters settled into their sleeping bags and the lodge grew quiet. We stayed up with cold glasses of tea and warm brownies and laughed and listened to each other as we recapped our bear hunting adventure. It was more that any of us had ever dreamed it would be, and you can bet that we will definitely be back.

Outfitter information
Brian and Sylvia Hoffart offer first class hunting and lodging. For more information on hunting deer, bear or waterfowl in Saskatchewan, Canada call: 306-832-2084

Brian and Sylvia Hoffart
Green Lake Hunting Lodge
Box 99
Green Lake, Saskatchewan Canada SOM-IBO

By applying in United States Outfitters licensing service hunters across the country have the chance to draw tags in public hunting areas that have unbelievable trophy potential. This is the same service that the realtree team has depended on for years to assure the opportunity to hunt big elk.

Realtree pro-staffer Michael Waddell was one of the lucky individuals who drew an archery tag for the 2000 fall hunting season in the Valle Vidal of New Mexico. The Valle Vidal is national forest land that is made up of 100,000 acres of prime elk hunting real estate. Once a hunter draws this prestigious tag he will never be eligible to draw it again, so this hunt to Michael was no doubt going to be a hunt of lifetime from the get go.

When Michael and cameraman David Hoffart met up with U.S.O. guide Rick Baily in Taos, New Mexico for the ride on to the Valle Vidal hunting area September 12, it didn’t take long for the talk to set in on all the bull elk that were showing up in the meadows just before night fall. Rick explained how the bugling had been slow, primarily because of the extremely hot and dry weather that had been tormenting the southwest. “All of the action is probably going to be early in the morning and late in the afternoon.” Rick explained. “The Bulls have been bugling, but not a lot. I would expect ever day of the hunt to get better as the rut starts to heat up.”

The camp set up to lodge the hunting party was made up of Boy Scout tents that were all clean and cozy. A large tent was set to serve as the mess hall and also a gathering spot for the hunters to tell their hunting stories. After eating the traditional U.S.O. first afternoon meal of bar-b-que brisket the group settled in for the night to rest up for what was expected to be a week long of covering a lot of ground on foot as well as horseback.

The first morning of the hunt Rick guided Michael to the top of a mountain ridge that had been logged. There was a light frost on the ground and the distant bugling of bulls gathering cows could be heard down toward the valleys below. It didn’t take long before the realtree camera started to run tape on elk. After stalking closer to some bugling elk, Michael pointed out two bulls standing on a side ridge lightly sparring with each other, but neither bull were shooters so the hunting party kept moving on. By around two hours after daylight the elk activity had basically diminished and the trio of hunters headed back to the truck which was now around six miles away. Satisfied with encountering plenty of nice bulls included one that would score in the 330’s, Michael anticipated with optimistic thoughts of what a hunt this was going to be.

The next few days were absolutely awesome. There were to many close encounters to even count. Another U.S.O. client showed up in camp who had also drew a Valle Vidal tag. The plan was for Rick to start guiding him and U.S.O. legend Griz Montoya was to start hunting with Michael and Hoffart. The action stayed constant with rutting bulls working to cow calls. One big 5×5 came on a run bugling the whole way across a meadow. The lovesick bull literally came within 6 yards of Michael before he was spooked by a change in the wind before Michael had a chance to draw his bow.

One evening Michael had two different 300 class or better bulls coming to a call, but on both setups the constantly changing wind thermals alerted the elk and ruined any chance for success. “I do not know if I have ever been so frustrated with the wind. It never stayed consistent and the one thing you can not fool on an elk is his nose.” Michael said.

As the hunt rolled on fatigue started to set in. Getting up at 3:45 am every morning, riding 4 to 5 miles on horseback back into the mountains and then walking another 5 to 6 miles were really making the hunters move slowly. But by the 5th day of the hunt, Michael still had very optimistic hopes of filling his tag as he found himself standing on top of a ridge with bulls screaming in all directions. Griz was calling behind him promising the vocal bulls every thing that they wanted to hear, and in no time there were two bulls standing at 20 yards, but neither were what Michael was looking for.

Finally at 8:00 am, Griz’s cow call was cut short by an eager bugle. Quickly Michael got into position and Hoffart started viding his surroundings. Griz intensified his cow calling and it was apparent that the bull was closing ground, getting nearer by the minute.

Michael could hear the pounding of hooves just before the bull appeared coming down an old logging road. Once in, with the realtree camera rolling the 6×6 bellowed out a piercing bugle at a distance of 40 yards. After telling the whole mountain that he was the boss the bull carried on his walk toward the sound of the cow call. When the bull went behind a bush, Michael brought his bow to dull draw. The bull stepped out into a clearing at a distance of 34 yards and Michael squeezed off a perfect double lung hit and the bull traveled only about 70 yards before going down.

“I knew when I drew this tag it was going to be a treat, but I never come close to imagining the experience was going to be this good. Words can not explain how much fun this hunt was. The only sad thing about it is that I will never be able to hunt the Valle Vidal again, but you can bet I will be back to video on it in the future.”

When the hunt was all said and done Waddell’s hunt had been successfully caught on tape for an on going production of Monster Bulls 3 that will be available the summer of 2001, and Michael’s elk assured his family plenty of tasty elk steak for the next year.

Anytime you find yourself in the deer woods there is one thing that can be predictable. You can never guess what mother nature will deal you as far as weather conditions. Other elements that can effect a hunt is things like dogs running deer, vine cutters cutting vines in the area you just hung a stand, or even the deer you are hunting losing his horns early.

The 2000 deer season proved to yield some pretty amazing scenarios that effected the out come of our productions.

Early in the year in Wyoming even though we had some tremendous success we were greeted with a very dry country side and it seemed there was a forest fire around every corner. At times we would find our selves nervous sitting on a stand watching a bellowing smoke cloud miles away. “ It is kind of wild watching a fire way off burning while hunting and the whole time you find yourself thinking. I hope the wind don’t change and bring it toward me.” David Blanton commented after the hunt.

Later in Novemeber we returned to the Black Hills area in Wyoming and the weather conditions were as different as night and day. A blizzard hit in the middle of the hunt bringing 60 mile and hour winds and feet of snow. This made it simply impossible to even get to the blinds much less sit in them. “There was a big part of my hunting ground that I just could not get to this past hunting season. The deer were there but the severe weather disrupted all the patterns that I had on the bucks that I had been scouting.” Jeff Smith of Seven J outfitters stated about the 2000 season.

None the less the Team realtree cameras captured some unbelievable footage from Wyoming this past fall.

When we arrived the first week in November at Riversbend in Kentucky to hunt, Bill Jordan and I were shocked to see the mercury at 80 degrees F. It was so frustrating fighting off the heat and believe it are not the mesquitoes walking to and from our stands. You could see huge rubs and scrapes that big bucks had laid down all along the 11,000 available acres we had to hunt. The deer however had gone almost completely nocturnal due to the hot temperatures. We did not hardly turn the cameras on the whole week from the lack of deer movement.

After talking with Mark Doerner, the hunting coordinater, I set up a date to return to the Kentucky hunting ground the first week in January.

When I returned in Jan. I was happy to see that the weather was much cooler and that a solid blanket of snow covered the country side. Mark informed me that the deer movement had been tremendous. “ The deer have been hitting these cut corn fields hard. I really think we will be able to get a line on a good buck and get one before the weeks out. I have seen a 150 class ten pointer every day for the last five evening coming through a funnel area. We will go tomorrow and put some blinds there.” Mark told me on arrival to KY.

So hang the stands we did and see deer we did. However as I noticed a big body deer coming toward our position, I anticipated the rack of the deer to become apparent. As the deer got closer I could see two bloody holes where horns had once been. The buck had already lost his horns. I was shocked to find as the week progressed 10 different bucks come by our blinds hornless. Finally we found one big buck in the 160’s who still had headgear. We hung stands only to be greeted with a group of workers to first evening of our sit hired by the timber company to cut vines away from the mature trees. This pressure in the area totally run all of the deer to a different part of the farm. We did finally get on some good bucks in a great area, but before I could fill my tag the trip come to an end. I will be back to this area next fall and hopefully a little luck will come with me.

The list goes on and on: Like the huge buck that got away from Bill Jordan in Kansas after he hit a piece of barb wire with his arrow on the cattle fence that the deer was behind. Later, at the end of the season Bill was on his way back to hunt him, when Larry Konrade, a USO guide, called to inform Bill that he had already dropped his horns. The deer grossed out after guessing at the spread to be around the 193 mark.

Are ask David Blanton how it feels when you have a 190 class muledeer at 20 yards waiting for him to clear a bush, and then the wind changes sending the deer crashing down through the woods after smelling human scent. This happened to him while hunting in Alberta, Canada.

The 2000 fall had its ups and downs and there is no doubt the good outweighed the bad when the season was said and done.

But there was a lot of time spent in treestands looking at nothing, but open spaces and seeing the trees grow. There were plenty of cold feet and hands along with emotions that were shattered after days of hunting never even catching a glimpse of that anticipated monster buck.

One thing is for sure, we look forward to showing every one the good times and the bad on our newest video production that will be released this summer. Monster Bucks 9 is on the way.

IT was so cold my teeth even hurt. The temperature was –30F and it was way out of the comfort zone for a 21 year old Georgia boy. The slowly falling snowflakes resembled party glitter falling from the sky, but this was no party. I was sitting 25ft above the ground in a climax treestand trying to think of something warm and cozy to help pass the ever so slowly passing time. The only recreation my tired mind could find was to watch the crust of frost building bigger and bigger on Bill Jordan’s toboggan. We were hunting the Northern Saskatchewan brush country, and we had been at it for 13 straight days from daylight to dark. During that time I had reflected back on all of my lifetime of memories, from riding bikes as a kid, to my first date. I had relived every home run I had ever hit in baseball, and re-shot every deer and turkey I had ever killed up until this point. The most inconvenient thing to this reflecting was, that I had played back all of my memories of my life by the 6th day, so by now on the 13th day (excluding Sundays which in Canada is a no hunting day) I was seriously thinking about reconsidering my newly earned job as a realtree cameraman.

I stared out through the Canadian wilderness in hopes of seeing some movement. Bill and I had only seen 13 deer up to this point, and that was not for the day. It was for the whole trip, and two of these deer were those we had seen hung on the skinning pole back at camp. From our stand sight we could see around a 100 yards to the north down a shooting lane that had been cut through the thick brush. In the other directions our sight was limited to about 40 yards. The area we were hunting was littered with plenty of deer sign with scrapes, rubs, and trails all around us, but the deer were simply not moving. We had three other cameramen in camp trying to capture footage and hunts for our Realtree Outdoors television show and Monster Buck’s video series. Each of these cameramen had a hunter with them to do the shooting if a shooter buck showed himself. The hunters on the trip were Greg Olsen, a former Atlanta Braves catcher, Steve Bartkoski, former Atlanta Falcon quarterback, and Joe Drake, one our Realtree Pro-Staffers, and so far no one had gotten a shot at a good buck or even seen one for that matter.

It was now just after 12:00 noon and I quietly went for my sack lunch which consisted of four things that were all frozen harder than $5.00 worth of jaw-breakers—a moose meat sandwich, cheese crackers, a piece of carrot cake, and a five alive citrus drink. Boy oh Boy, times just don’t get any better than this. Just before I attempted to chip my tooth on my sandwich, I caught movement out of the corner of my eye—OH! God bless America, it was a deer, and a buck at that. I didn’t have to motion to Bill; he had already seen him and was going for his gun just in case it was a shooter. I got my camera focused on the buck through the thick brush and I could see it was a nice 130 class 8 point. Slowly the buck made his way closer to one of our shooting lanes. The reality of just seeing a deer was enough to almost bring a tear of joy to my eye, but this was still not the kind of buck we were looking for.

After taping the buck for several minutes I was very happy for at least having the opportunity to get some decent footage. Carefully, the buck worked his way through the maze of mangled brush as he made his exit from our area, and just before the 8point got out of sight I caught a glimpse of another rack on the other side of him. Now this buck appeared to be a lot larger than our first visitor and when he steped out into an opening he quickly confirmed my thought to be true. His gnarly rack had 9 points and a lot of mass to it. I could tell by his body size and posture that it was a mature deer and the best news of all he was heading in the same way the 8 pointer was going out. This meant if he kept coming Bill would get a 60 to 70 yard shot. I glanced over at Bill and he gave me a wink to let me know the safety was coming off. The buck looked to be in the high 140’s to low 150’s and before I knew it he was in our laps. My breathing began to increase causing my viewfinder on my camera to start to frost up. I knew it was time to earn my money, and I desperately fought off my nerves and concentrated on keeping the buck framed up and in focus while remaining steady as I possibly could. I felt good with the video I had gotten and on my signal, Bill squeezed the trigger on his Remignton 280 sending a Federal trophy bonded bullet through the brutes’ boilermaker. Within seconds I could hear the deer go down, and slowly the frozen Canadian wilderness went back to its eerie silence.

I could not believe it, after spending 13 days freezing our bottoms off, 10 minutes of one day turned everything around. It was the break we were looking for, and it was all over. We had captured what we needed. We had a television show and an awesome hunt for Monster Bucks IV. The rest of the week we shot interviews, opens, and closes for our show on TNN and even though Bill and I had a slight turn for the good. The rest of the group never got a shot or even saw a shooter buck.

In total with 4 cameras rolling all with hunters on the other side of them, we had probably 15 to 20 minutes of usable deer footage and one good kill. The total time we spent in the bush was 16 days. The result an awesome show for Realtree Outdoors, and 8 men ready for phsciatric treatment, including one 21 year old country boy from Georgia who on his first trip to Canada realized the reality of outdoor productions.

REALITY
When one watches a Realtree Outdoor production, whether it is an episode on Realtree Outdoors or on one of our video’s, it is natural to assume that there are critters under every tree in the areas we hunt, and that getting awesome footage comes easy to us. This assumption is far from the truth, however. Sure every now and then things come together in a fairly easy manner. On the particular trip I talked about earlier, it took 16 days of hunting to produce a quality television show. We have also had a few trips where in three days; we would have burned enough videotape to produce two television shows. But in reality it would blow most people’s mind if they knew how much time and effort is put into just one of our productions, much less a whole show season. Hours upon hours and days on end we spend in the field freezing or sweating our bottoms off trying to produce the most quality outdoor entertainment possible. It is true that every place we hunt has great potential, but potential does not mean it is canned or a slam-dunk. The word “potential” means so much when your hunting big game or trying to hunt record class animals. For instance, you can’t kill a monster buck in a particular area if there are no monster bucks living in the area your hunting—this is a very simple equation, and is the one we live by.

David Blanton is the executive producer at Realtree and one of his main jobs is to constantly research areas in North America for quality hunting. Obviously big whitetails are his number one focus. Once David has convinced himself that a particular area or outfitter might have the “potential” we are looking for, we will then go on what we call a feeler hunt just to check everything out. When one of these hunts pans out it can be outstanding. A good example of one that did is up in northeast Montana on the Milk River. David had been talking to good friend David Morris, who is co-owner of North American Whitetail Magazine, and he had expressed to David Blanton how it would be in our best interest to check out this part of the country for our videos. So taking a chance David set up a hunt with some local farmers, and an outfitter who had some property that they would allow us hunt on, and when our hunt started that year in late October we all were simply amazed at all the big bucks that we saw. We went on to video David Morris taking a 150-class 10 point and Bill Jordan missing one of the biggest deer he has ever seen. The Milk River in Montana to this day is still continuing to produce awesome hunts and bucks for the Realtree cameras. This was one of those feeler hunts that turned out to be a success, and by now through the exposure on our videos and television show it is all hunters’ dream to have an opportunity to hunt there. These successful hunts are the ones that show up on the productions, but it is the not so successful hunts that do not. So what the viewers see is the highlights and the good times of one particular hunt.

Looking for a quality hunt
Hunting across North America for whitetails, the biggest thing that I have realized is that a trophy buck is always relative to where you are hunting. I grew up and was introduced to deer hunting in the state of Georgia. Through my years as a hunter I have had the chance to take some good bucks in the Peach State, but comparing other parts of North America to my southern hunting ground would be like comparing apples to oranges. Certain areas across North America can offer different potential, as far as trophy whitetails are concerned. For instance, a Georgia hunter who has shot plenty of 120 inch 8 pointers, and still dreaming of shooting a 150 class deer is no different than a Texas hunter who has taken several 150 class bucks and is hoping for a 180 class deer. A local Kansas hunter might not even bring up his binoculars to look at a buck that most Pennsylvania hunters would give their left arm to shoot. Again, a trophy deer is always relative to where you are hunting and this is why an outdoorsman who is looking for his dream buck should be aware of where this deer could possibly be living.

In our productions we try to show viewers not only the deer in a particular area, but also the geography and how to attack it in a hunting situation. Not everyone would enjoy sitting in a shooting house in South Texas with the hot sun glaring down looking down a long sendero in hopes of seeing a whopper buck. Likewise, some hunters could not fathom hunting Canada. Sitting daylight to dark in sub zero temperatures could drive a lot of whitetail enthusiast to the nut house. So, far all these reasons if you are looking for a hunt of lifetime, the proper research should be done to ensure a quality hunt. Do not ever take anything for granted or any leaf unturned. Always know exactly what you are looking for in a hunt. Not only what kind of buck that might satisfy your desires, but also the conditions and the environment that you would like to hunt him in.

One thing to remember and not lose focus on is that a mature whitetail buck is one of the most elusive and wary of all big game animals. There is never a guarantee when hunting under fair chase conditions. All you can ever do is try and put yourself in an area that holds candidates that suit your fancy. From there on out it is all in the hands of you, Mother Nature, and a little luck.

Until then rest assured that we here at Realtree Outdoor productions will continue to research and try to find the best Monster bucks hot spots all across North America. Where ever your dreams and thoughts of big bucks takes you, we wish you the best always.

The sport of turkey hunting is becoming more and more a contagious pastime to many outdoorsmen. The sound of a roaring gobble, followed by the tale tale spitting and drumming of a lovesick tom closing in to the sound of a call can be simply heart pounding. Matching wits with one of these wary birds can be both frustrating or pure joy according only to how a hunt unfolds. Wild turkeys can be hunted in the fall in a lot of states, but it is the spring time ritual of breeding turkeys that put most hunters into the woods. In the months leading up to the spring season, the household of a turkey hunter is interrupted from its normal everyday sounds. Clucks, yelps, cutts and many other high pitch, two toned notes that usually drive most wives to near insanity are practiced everyday by the hunter to better perfect his imitation of a lonely hen looking for love.

Turkey hunting has always been a rich tradition in American society dating back to the Pilgrim and Indian days when turkey was served for the traditional Thanksgiving dinner. Turkey populations however took a major decline in the early eighteen hundreds as they were almost wiped out due to over hunting and loss of habitat. Settlers were forced to live off the land in these days heavily depending on wild game and farming to get them through. Clearing off land to make fields to plant crops really hurt the wild turkeys habitat. It is said that the gun and the ax nearly eliminated the wild turkeys. Now days through the hard work of the departments of natural resources and organizations such as the National Wild Turkey Federation, there are huntable turkey populations in forty-nine of the United States fifety states. (Alaska is the only state in the US without a turkey season). Habitat is now being protected and continually improved to ensure that the wild turkey will be in North American to stay.

The Sub-species
The North American Wild turkey is split up into five sub-species. The Eastern, Florida’s (Oceola), Merriams, Rio Grande’s, and the Gould’s. All of these sub-species or found in the United States except for the Goulds which is found only in Mexico. A turkey hunter lucky enough to bag all five of these North American birds achieves the Royal Slam status. A Grand Slam is when the hunter takes the four birds found only in the US. Some hunters even go as far as to hunt the Occelated turkey found only in the Yucatan peninsula of South America. When this bird is taken along with the five other sub-species it counts for a World Slam.

As you can see there are a smorgasbord of opportunities for a turkey hunter. Even though one can usually find great turkey hunting right out his back door it is becoming more and more popular for die hard turkey hunters to venture out of their base areas to hunt different terrain testing their skills and perseverance while chasing these longbearded monarchs. If you are one of those hunters who are thinking about planning a turkey hunt for the road there are plenty of tips that can make your trip more productive.

Picking the right outfitter
No matter what sub-species of bird you think you might be interested in hunting, there are plenty of different operations that have great resources to pool from.

However be careful before committing your checkbook to any outfitter—– because there are just as many shady operations as quality ones.

David Blanton who has been the executive producer of the Realtree Outdoor television and video department for the last ten years has always had a knack for finding top-notch setups for longbeard birds.

“I take finding a quality outfitter very serious. I want to make sure before committing our camera’s and staff to a hunt that I feel confidant about endorsing their services. Not only do I look for great potential hunting but also for quality people who are interested in making a hunt a success despite what the kill tally might be at the end of a hunt,” David said.

David Blanton’s research priorities:

1. Make sure when using references for an outfitter—-talk to not only the hunters who were successful, but also those who did not take game to see if they can still talk positive about their hunt.
2. Find out-How many acres are available to hunt? What is the limit of game that can be took? Will you be hunting private or public ground? What is the average harvest and percentage of success of the outfitters hunters in a given year? Is the hunt physical demanding or fairly laid back? Is the lodging and meals part of the hunt, and what can I expect them to be like.
3. Another great idea is to find out what the hatch was like for the turkeys in that area two years prior to your hunt. This will let you know if there should be a good population of two-year-old longbeard gobblers.

“The most important factor in all of this in my opinion is to trust your gut instinct. I have found this to be a great final decision-making tool, David explained. “In the past we have been treated with some awesome turkey hunts, but no matter how thorough you are there is nothing that is foolproof. You can however by doing your homework make your chances of going on a hunt of a lifetime a lot better.”

The All Stars of Spring turkey video series will give you a head start on some of the places that might float your boat for the upcoming spring season.

Hunting different birds and the terrain they live in
One of the most notable differences in hunting turkeys across the country is getting accustomed to how the birds use and live in the various land habitats.

Even though parts of North America remain similar, there are many areas that are as different as night and day.

Wild turkeys that inhabit these ever changing geographies adapt their living and everyday routine to these environments.

I first realized this when I visited South Florida on my first out of state turkey hunt form my home state of Georgia. The thick green vegetation combined with the walled off palmetto bushes almost made the softer gobble of the oceola turkey un-hearable. On several occasions I misread the distance between me and gobbling birds by a hundred yard are so. This error sent many of what would have been turkey dinner flying or running away unscaved.
The same similar thing happened in reverse when I hunted the hardwood hills of Iowa for the first time. These long-spurred gobblers were not afraid to gobble and spit and drum on average a lot louder than the other eastern birds I had hunted in the past. The open hardwoods to boot made some birds sound only fifty to a hundred yards away when in reality they were more like three to four hundred yards.

Turkeys that live most of their lives around swampy terrain ankle deep in water usually are more prone to cross creeks and walk through pools of standing water. I have had turkeys in parts of Alabama, Georgia, Florida, and South Carolina that have literally make ripples in standing swamp water as they strutted their way to my hen talk. On the other hand, I have had longbeards in South Dakota hang up on a rain puddle that they could have easily walked around.

Turkeys that live in thick terrain feel more comfortable in places that a Rio Grande turkey in the open mesquite trees of Texas would not dare to venture into.

The most important thing to remember is whatever environment a particular turkey lives in, is the same environment he will feel confidant coming to your call in.

Battling the weather elements
One thing that I have learned to predict is that nothing is always predictable, and that always is the case when your dealing with the weather.

It is a great idea to watch the weather channel or go to the Internet to get a forecast of the area you are planning on hunting. It is also wise to prepare your self for both ends of the spectrum when you pack your bag no matter what the weatherman says.

One of the coldest days in my life was spent in Mexico hunting Gould’s turkeys. I did not watch the weather or question anyone as to what the weather would be like on our hunt. I just automatically assumed that the weather would be warm and dry just like it is the majority of time in South Texas. My first morning on the hunt cold and windy weather greeted me as walked out of the lodge. We were at a very high altitude and it was nothing at all like South Texas. It was somewhat embarrassing for me. The one who works at a camouflage company and has access to as many garments as he needs to have to borrow clothes from other hunters. I had not packed the first insulated gear. It was a mistake that taught me a very valuable lesson.

Things to always pack for the weather and elements:

• At least one pair of thermal underwear—preferable polyprobalene or something light weight that can be worn while running and gunning for gobblers. In traditionally cold weather country you might want to throw in something even heavier.
• Always bring a medium to heavy weight insulated jacket—you may not need it, but it want hurt anything if sits in your bag. If it gets cold you will kick yourself if you did not bring it.
• Some kind of rain gear—thunderstorms and rainy weather can pop up at any time in the spring of the year. There is no way to hunt efficient if you are miserable, and if you are wet, you will surely be miserable. Also rain gear can be used for a wind-breaking garment if the weather turns cold and windy.
• Bring a lightweight jacket and a super light one, like those made out of a net type material. When the weather is hot you wont something that is cool to keep you skin covered form the turkeys eyes.
• A comfortable pear of hunting boots. Depending on where you hunt, it could be possible to walk several miles any given day. A solid pear of boots that won’t rub blisters and keep your feet dry is mandatory.
• Bring both medium to heavy weight gloves as well as lightweight ones.

Again, never take anything for granted when it comes to dealing with the weather in any one area.

Planning the travel arrangements to get to your destination
Wherever you decide to hunt, you will always have to decide what means of transportation to take to get you there.

The quickest way to get to most destinations is by the use of a plane. Now days there is a commercial airline that will usually get you within an hour of your final destination. Most of the time this is the means I take to get to my favorite out of state hunting grounds. Airlines are so competitive that if you book at least twenty-one days in advance, you can most of the time get a decent fare. A fare can range anywhere from $200.00 to $800.00, all depending on where you are going. The negative thing to traveling via airplane is that you have to be more conservative in what you bring along for the trip. Most airlines will accept three bags per ticketed person and the bags can not exceed seventy pounds per bag. All guns must be flown in an airline approved gun case and locked up with the ammo carried in another bag. You also have to take into consideration who will pick you up at the airport or will you be renting a vehicle to make the final leg of your journey.

Driving can be also very fun and cost efficient especially if you have a hunting buddy or buddies that will be going with you. You can split up the cost of the gas money and switch out on drivers as the other tires out. You can also drive right to the steps of any lodge or headquarters the outfitter might be working from. It is also easier to bring what ever it is that you want to bring and more.

The negative thing about driving is that it can make for some long hours on the road. It can also put tons of wear and tear on your vehicle. You also have to take into consideration the time issue. Driving can easily add a day or two to your scheduled trip.

Conclusion
There is no doubt the sport of turkey hunting has come along way over the last century, and it is safe bet to say that Gobblin Fever will continue to bite avid sportsmen driving them to all parts of our great nation to hunt these wary birds.

For me turkey hunting represents not only tasty breast meat and beard and spurs. But it also reminds me of time spent with good friends and family. It makes me remember cool spring mornings as I waited for daybreak on my Uncle Morgan’s farm. The sound of the whipper will singing, barred owls hooting and then the thundering gobble of a long beard turkey looking for love and representing his dominance.

As long as there are turkeys and a turkey season I will always look forward to the hunt. HAVE TURKEYS WILL TRAVEL!!!

When George Taulman called me this past summer to inform me that I had drawn a muzzleloader tag for Kansas I was pumped. Immediately visions of a big antlered whitetail coming by my treestand as I sat overlooking a funnel area on a wooded river bottom filled my thoughts.

However after talking with George for a couple of minutes I was informed that the country was wide open and that we were probably not going to be hunting out of tree stands. Even more surprising was that he said that we were going to hunt mule deer. “This county is full of deer both whitetail and mule deer, but I think we can get a really big mulie on the ground if we work hard.” George stated.

I will have to admit that at first the thought of going after mule deer instead of whitetail puzzled me, but as it would turn out it that decision put the largest horns on the wall that the Waddell household has ever held.

Brent Weinland, a local farmer who grew up hunting and farming the Unit 2 country was to be my guide. Brent now works for United States Outfitters and his experience in this area, and hard working attitude has sent many of USO clients home with bucks that they had been dreaming about all of their lives. Chad Sanders was going to capture the whole Kansas experience with the Realtree camera.

The Kansas hunting camp was full of hard core hunters from all across the country who were all also lucky enough to draw a Kansas deer tag through USO’s licensing service. I knew from the start that this hunt was going to be a good one.

Brent informed me that the area that we would be hunting was wide open, with not a tree in sight. It was flat country that rolled off into to small rocky ravines or coulees. The hunt was to be spot and stalk. We would get up on the highest points of each ridge glass the area and then move on to each nook and cranny of the property until hopefully we found the right buck.

Brent said that earlier in bow season that he had seen a huge mulie that he felt for certain would go 200 B&C or better. This was the buck that we would try to find. We had seven days to do it and we were ready for action. Brent did say that he felt our most important day to find a kill the buck would be the first time out. The opening day of rifle season for residents and non-residents made him fair game.

Our optimism was high as daylight approached on our first morning out. Sitting on a small knoll we found ourselves searching every square inch of the ground that lay ahead of us. The pre-dawn light played tricks on us at times and made every rock look like a monster mulie, but after about 10 minutes or so we decided to move on to the next canyon. We had only seed a couple of does.

We did this for around thirty minutes and then we found what we had been hoping to find—a monster mule deer buck with about 15 does.

My heart skipped a couple of beats on the sight of the brute. Sanders slowly but quickly got the camera set up to start rolling tape. A doe that was with him noticed us and became cautious at around four hundred yards. After getting some good footage of the herd of mule deer the spooky doe retreated taking with her the others. Slowly, all of the deer disappeared out of sight into the next cut.

The hunt was on and we quickly came up with a game plan that we thought was full proof, but we soon found out that is was not. Time after time we tried but could not get the huge mulie in range. When we got the monster in range we could not get him on tape. Frustration set in.

Finally after seven hours of playing cat and mouse, we figured out the right combination. By cutting off the herd as they traveled threw a canyon it allowed us not only to get some fantastic footage but it also got the huge buck within 140 yards of my Thompsom Center encore muzzleloader. When I squeezed the trigger I knew right away that it was a solid hit by the reaction of the buck. He traveled only about 70 yards before going down.

Later we scored the buck out at 199 3/8 B&C gross points. He was a brute! It was my first mule deeer and I was simply overwhelmed.

Kansas proves every year that it is paradise for the outdoorsman. Not only does some of the biggest whitetails in the county come from there but the mule deer herd has been a sleeper for years. I have had two experiences with mule deer in Kansas. My first was when I vidoed Jeff Foxworthy kill a 193 class buck on Monster Bucks 7. The other was the hunt that I just described. One thing is for sure—I hope to one day hunt big mule deer there again.

The tone of my wife’s voice on the other end of the line said it all. “ When are you coming home?” and I want you to tell me the truth” she asked with a quiver in her voice. I paused before replying back to her, because I knew she wouldn’t like my answer. Putting my response off long enough I gritted my teeth and simply said, “not sure”. Well as you might imagine this is not what she wanted to hear and I knew I owed her a better answer but I was just being honest.

It was mid December and I was in South Texas along with Bill Jordan trying to capture enough footage to produce a Realtree Outdoors television show segment and even though we had been hunting hard for the last seven days we had just begun to see a drastic difference in the deer movement. Part of this no doubt was brought on by a change in the weather conditions. The temperature had dropped a good twenty degrees, which was what we were needing to trigger the much-anticipated rut. With money already on the line that was set forth for a south Texas deer show, there was no way we could turn back now. So far we had not gotten enough footage to amount to squat, and we knew that it was still a gamble to stay past our departure date because there is never a guarantee when you were hunting mature whitetail bucks. But we had to go with the odds, and the odds were that with three realtree cameras rolling, a sudden change in the weather for the good, and a biological fact that deer that time of year in the area we were hunting should be in love, we were bound to get footage of at least one whopper buck making a fatal mistake. As I explained all of this to my wife, she pretended to understand, but I really knew deep down she questioned what drove men to the psychological condition to stay in camp with a bunch of other men in rustic conditions. Get up two hours before daylight, drink a cup of coffee, eat a piece of stale toast, and sit in a blind most of the day just in hopes to bag a deer.

Questions like this one, even though I hate to admit it, have often invaded my thoughts as well, but it seems there is a different engine that drives us whitetail hunters. The visions of massive, long tined antlers flood the minds of those who hunt deer. These dreams can not only be uplifting but frustrating as well to those of us whose dreams have yet to come true. The dream buck floats through every whitail enthusiast head. These illusions are what get us out of bed two to three hours before daylight rain or shine, to sit motionless on our blinds scanning the woodlines and fields. They make our heart skip a beat when we hear the crunch of leaves, a snap of a branch or the curious bark of a squirrel. These thoughts have possessed some men to totally lose focus on their priorities and even drive some people insane enough to cost them their marriage, job, are in some cases a friendship. To those who don’t hunt, they simply laugh and make fun of this odd behavior.

One thing that I have found contagious with this condition is that as soon as a hunter does get lucky enough to bag his dream buck another one will take his place in his thoughts only just a little wider, taller, and heavier with a few more non-typical tines within moments of success. This is disease is wide spread and is not limited to just one area in North America. People from all walks of life suffer, but yet find the plague therapeutic. Anyone who has a passion for the outdoors is a potential victim, and it is passed down to a lot of us by our fathers. There is no known cure, and no research is even being done to come up with a remedy. No matter how many days spent in the field hunting and pursuing the whitetail hunters itch is never scratched. So those of us who are infected will have to live in this state of mind until we pass.

This is the reason we had to stay in Texas and play the odds in hopes to get our dream buck. Sure walking away and going home was not going to hurt anyone, but we were no different than the compulsive gambler trying to leave the poker table. We were brain washed and the only thing that controlled our mind was the dream buck. We stayed and kept chasing after this illusional ghost.

So stay we did and as luck would have it, we were successful in our quest. We shot two bucks and scraped up enough footage to make a quality television show. We were on top of the world after our gamble proved to pay off. Strangely however, was that as soon as all the equipment had been packed up and we were on our way to the airport to go home, reality hit. The obsession once again took control, and that majestic, magical animal took control of our thoughts. For some of us we will never have an answer to why it walks constantly through our heads or why it controls our desires. Oh yes, it is certainly odd and almost humorous, but to the whitetail hunter it is so real. The dream buck, the one that will never be taken. It is truly an unexplainable obsession, but one that I’m proud of because it makes me a hunter.

“There’s no place like home” were the famous words Dorothy said in the classic movie Wizard of Oz when she had been in the Land of Oz for quiet some time. Even though Oz was a beautiful and spectacular place with lots of interesting things around every corner, this farm girl from Kansas longed to be back in the familiar surroundings of home even though she had a wonderful time in Oz.

Working in the television and video department full time for six years at Realtree camouflage, I have been blessed to have seen and hunted some prime real estate all across North America. From Canada to Mexico and every where else in between Bill Jordan, David Blanton and all of the Realtree pro-staff dedicate the fall and winter months to the production of our Monster Bucks series of video’s, and Realtree Outdoors television show. Tons of research goes into deer habitat and the potential that certain areas hold when it comes to trophy bucks. David Blanton stays on the phone constantly during the summer months talking to outfitters, game and fish departments, farmers, mail men, teachers, are basically anyone who could possible give him an insight on big buck sanctuaries while he maps out a year of hunting for the Realtree team. Most of our hunts last from five to seven days in the field to try and minimize time away from our families and responsibilities back home. But after a couple of days of honey doing, the Atlanta airport is once again filled with our camo jackets and big buck tales as we continue our quest for ole mossy horns. In all this planning one might ask “What about the Southeast?” “What about Georgia?” This is a very good question and is often hard to answer.

I grew up in Georgia and from a very early age was introduced to the outdoors by my father and uncle who both had a passion for whitetail hunting. When I was twelve, with my Dad as my guide I shot my first buck on the first hunt that I was ever on. The deer was a huge seven pointer that field dressed 201 lbs. and went on to win the local big buck contest. From that day on I was hooked on deer hunting and basically anything else I could go after whether it be squirrels or dove. Everyday and every minute when possible I could be found terrorizing the woods in North Meriwether county, trying always to improve on my woodsmen ship skills. At the age of 13 I took my first turkey, which was a world record jake, and later that same year I shot my first deer with a bow and arrow. A Boone and Crockett doe! There was not a drug addict alive that was any more addicted to drugs like I was to hunting. I could not even concentrate on schoolwork, because of the visions of large racks and strutting turkeys. As I grew older and my hunting skills got better, I dreamed about going head to head with a big mid-western buck or hunt in south Texas in the mesquite country are maybe even go to the winter wonderland of Canada to hunt a northern giant. I was no different than a lot of other Georgia hunters who could see the greener grass in the other states, but would probably never have the chance to hunt those areas.

Luckily for me I got hooked up with the Realtree Team after winning some turkey-calling contest and have now had a chance to do some of the things that I used to just dream about. But is the grass really greener when it comes to hunting out of the Peach state. In a lot of ways I guess you could say it is. Iowa or Canada vs. Georgia in a big buck contest would be like comparing apples to oranges. Not to say it could not happen, but when you hunt a food plot in Georgia do you picture a 170-class buck walking out or a realistic 120 inch 8 pointer? A local Kansas hunter might not even bring up his binoculars to look at a buck that most Georgia natives would give there left arm to shoot. A trophy is always relative to who is the hunter and where one is hunting. The same hunter in Georgia who has shot plenty of 120 class 8 pointers, and still dreaming of shooting a 150 class deer is no different than a Texas hunter who has shot several 150 class deer and is hoping for a 180 class buck. Some of my most memorable hunts are those with my family and friends, where a successful hunt consisted of shooting a six pointer eating white oak acorns on a frosty Georgia morning; however these are not the hunts that sell videos and keep the ratings high on TNN.

A prime example of reaping the rewards of the potential that certain properties might hold happened to me last fall. From late August to December I had been on the road with the Realtree crew hunting and videoing all over North America. Along the way I had a chance to hunt and bag some truly great bucks. One buck in particular was a deer that I took in Northeast Montana the first week in October. After seeing and passing up several whitetails whose racks would easily score in the 120 to 130 range I finally got a crack and closed the coffin on a gorgeous 161 gross P&Y buck. This deer was a great representative of what that part of the country had to offer. I was simply elated to wrap my one and only Montana deer tag around his horns. Later that same year on the last week of the season I found myself hunting a food plot in Harris County in Georgia. My main priority on this hunt was to get some deer meat for the freezer to feed my family with; however in the back of my mind I could envision the possibility of taking home a bragging size rack home as well. I was not going to just shoot any buck that walked out into the food plot. I would have rather shot a big doe than to just bust a small buck with a rack that I would have not been proud of. With this train of thought in mind I kicked back in my loc on tree stand a replayed in my mind some of my funnest hunts. The cool, crisp winter air gave me a cozy feeling and it also let me know that the deer should move as the evening sun began to sink over the horizon.

Down in the hardwoods that bordered the acre oat field I could hear the tale-tale sound of a deer walking approaching my position. I focused in the direction of the crunching leaves to make out a buck getting ready to step out in the food plot. Right away I could tell it was a young deer with four points on his right side and three on his left. I knew immediately that I was going to pass the buck up—–even though he was legal by the game laws in the county I was hunting. Not even thirty minutes later I could hear yet another deer coming from the same direction. The seven pointer that was know in hog heaven eating oats like it was going out of style brought his head up to look in the direction of the company that he was about to have. My heart was racing—-was it going to be a big fat doe or maybe even better could it be a shooter buck. Right at my emotional climax my squinting eyes made out a spike buck coming into the field on a trail. Again my safety was put back on to wait for something better. But if better was to come it had better come fast—-dark was approaching and I only had 10 minutes of shooting light left.

I had just started thinking how unbelievable it was that a doe had not visited the food plot when a caught a glimpse of movement to my left. It had to be a big doe, but I was wrong again when I saw the chocolate horns the deer had on his head. He had sneaked right in on me with the aid of the planted pines that he had come through. This buck got my undivided attention—he was way better than any doe. Coming in for a better look I could tell he had eight points and they were fairly high. Looking him over good I decided to take the buck if he offered me a shot. My safety came off and my breathing increased. This was a great buck by Georgia standards. The eight pointer cautiously strolled into the food plot thinking that the approaching night was to keep him from danger like so many mature bucks have learned, but my crosshairs were very visible as I steadied them behind his right shoulder and squeezed off the shot. The crack of my rifle broke the silence of the still Georgia evening and when the silence come back to the forest I could see my reward lying on the edge of the food plot not moving a muscle. I had just shot a great Peach State buck. The deer later scored out at 123 B&C points. Maybe in Montana he would not have been a monster, but for a Georgia deer he nothing to be ashamed of. Both of these deer I just mentioned are now on my wall and their backstrap made for some tasty dinners at the Waddell household.

When you flip through the pages of this magazine you will see some unbelievable bucks that hunters across our great state have taken, and every year through the hard work of our game and fish department and quality deer management the harvest of mature deer has increased dramatically. Even though the majority of our deer video is produced out of state, we now make a conscience effort to hunt our home state more and try and capture some great hunts to show the whole world where Georgia stands. Every year in late summer I still enjoy helping my father and brother in-law prepare food plots for the up coming bow season. I still shoot my bow over and over changing broadheads a half a dozen times while continuously tinkering with my sights and rest preparing myself and equipment. All of this done with hopes of arrowing a doe on opening morning and bragging about the shot and what she weighed at the local sporting good store. No matter where the good Lord gives me an opportunity to hunt, I will never forget the smell of my mother’s homemade biscuits baking in the oven and the aroma of fresh coffee brewing as she prepared the traditional breakfast before opening day of rifle season. Memories of my Dad’s gently touch waking me up on a cool Georgia morning telling me in a excited mumble “Its going to be a good morning”. My uncle’s enthusiasm as he congratulated me on a successful kill. There is no doubt that I have enjoyed hunting across North America and meeting so many wonderful people along the way, but one thing is for certain. The grass grows pretty green and tall here in Georgia and there is no place like home.

Success in a hunting camp is not always measured by what the kill tally is at the end of the hunt, but more so on how much fun you may have had with the people there.

However if the deer are moving and the camp is made up of people you sincerely enjoy being around, you are then in for a treat.

This was exactly the case in Northeast Montana October 22-27. Marking the fourth trip made to this whitetail fantasyland the Realtree Team was eager to keep the streak alive of wrapping our Montana tags around trophy buck racks.

Comedian-Jeff Foxworthy, Lohman and Realtree prostaffer-Ricky Joe Bishop, and Advantage camouflage pro-staffer Jay Gregory were on the roster to hunt while John Tate, Steve Finch, and myself would man the Realtree cameras.

** LET THE HUNT BEGIN

It was the opening week of the Montana rifle season. Our four hour trip from Billings MT to Terry and Donna Korman’s house where we to lodge and eat gave evidence that all of the hunters in the area knew of the opener as we passed four will drive pickups with ATV and camping gear on the back the whole way.

Jeff was not with us but was going to be picked up later that afternoon in Glasgow, MT because of an earlier commitment in another state that morning. Unfortunately, we did not expect him to get to the Milk River in time to make the afternoon hunt; however everyone else would.

After arriving at camp and being greeted by Donna and Terry, who I now call my parents in MT., Ricky and Jay along with John and Steve quickly grabbed their gear and headed for the woods.

I went ahead got my camera gear together while awaiting for the arrival of Jeff. The plan was for Jeff and I to go to a vantage point that we call the rock in hopes to get a glimpse of a big nine pointer that had been seen several times in one of the alfalfa fields on the river’s edge.

Jeff finally arrived about three o’clock and quickly we put our plan to action and on the way out I grabbed my camera while Jeff picked-up his trusty 300 win mag just in case we caught a lucky break. Little did we know how crucial a decision this would prove to be.

Slipping up to the vantage point we were blown away by all the deer that had already made it out in to the field feasting on alfalfa. We felt good about staying away from the river bottom field because if we had tried to get to our stands we would have run all of the deer to the next state. So we settled in for a night of glassing in hopes to spot the monster nine pointer. After a few minutes of looking I was sure that the big buck was not yet in the area that I had seen him in a few weeks prior. They were several other bucks that would push the 140 mark but it was apparent that the Emerson buck was not there. (Emerson was the name that Jeff gave this particular deer after I sent him a copy of some footage that we had shot of the buck earlier in Sept. —Jeff said, “Em are some big horns on that deer”.)

Knowing that the farmer had planted a small section of corn in a slough that was directly below us around 150 yards, I decided to take a peek. When I did my heart about leaped out of my chest. The huge nine was standing in the middle of the corn flexing his muscles to another buck. “Get your gun” I quickly whispered to Jeff as I went for my camera that thankfully sat on my tripod ready to go. “Is he close enough to shoot” Jeff stuttered. “Yes” is about the only word my brain could think up. Anticipation and buck fever made it hard for me to talk in full sentences.

Finally, I zoomed in on the brute and started videoing the buck and just about the time Jeff was ready to pull the trigger, the buck went behind some limbs as he headed toward the alfalfa field to the west of us. The backs of our throat remained tight while we watched the buck go into the alfalfa keeping limbs in between us and him making a shot impossible.

For thirty minutes the buck stayed in the field then just like he had entered he made his way back toward the plot of corn only stopping once to work a scrape, which made for some awesome footage. I whispered to Jeff “this is it, we are going to get our chance tonight”. “Tell me when”, Jeff replied “I have got a good steady bead on him”. At a distance of approx. 150 yards Jeff squeezed the trigger and made a perfect shot. The monster only went about 60 yards before going down.

I could not believe what had just happened. We had no intentions of hunting. We were going to use the late evening to get ready for the week the lied ahead, but now thanks to good luck our hunt was over.

When we approached the buck it took awhile for either of us to mumble a word. The buck was unbelievable. He was a main frame eight pointer with a kicker point of his left G-2 tine which gave him nine points. Later we put the tape on Jeff’s deer and he scored 168 B&C points. Just as an eight pointer he grosses 164 B&C if you take away the 4-inch kicker point.

I felt complete satisfaction. This was a buck that we had seen on a couple of different occasions during bow season, but his pattern was so un-predictiable that we never got him close enough to take with archery gear. However this time the bucks personality of being un-predictable had got him in trouble. I had never expected to see him in the plot of corn. This area was over a half mile from where we had been seeing him. It just goes to show that there are deer gods looking over us, and what better person than Foxworthy to take this giant. He grew up hunting in the rolling hardwoods of north Georgia and since his lucky break of becoming one of the country’s most sought after comedians, he had not had to chance to hunt as much as he had before. All of his child hood dreams of taking a monster buck now lay at his feet on this cool Montana evening as we both sat and stared at this freakish looking buck. To make the situation even sweeter, I had captured it all on tape through the lens of the Realtree camera for the whole world to see.

Jeff welcome back to the world of hunting and Congratulations!

Be sure to tune in next week to hear how the rest of the camp did. Bill Jordan also stops by camp for a few days. So tune in and hear the details!