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Seven hundred and fifty miles from home, 20 feet up a tree the last
thing you expect to hear is a phone ringing. As I reached for my backpack
to silence my cell phone I realized now I wasn’t dreaming. In reality
it was a dream come true. Each year November finds us in Saskatchewan
Canada, but not this year. In July I received a call from Tom Ware in
Illinois asking about a Buckshot Camera. Tom had an outfitting business
located in Pike County Illinois for whitetail deer. He had a few questions
about his Buckshot cameras and asked some advice on setting them up.
We chatted for about 5 minutes and I answered all of Tom’s questions.
I then asked Tom a few questions about hunting in Pike County, Illinois.
He told me about how to go about applying for a shotgun permit and sending
in my application to the Illinois Department of Natural Resources. Well,
that is exactly what I did.
I applied for a gun permit for my friend Bobby, my son Colt, my father
Roy and myself. I received a call from Tom about 60 days later. His
first words were, "Well, did you get drawn for a permit?"
I hadn’t heard anything yet from the state of Illinois so Tom told
me how to get on the web and check the IDNR site to see if my group
drew. About 45 seconds later I could see my name on the screen with
the words "Successful Draw" for a Pike County permit. I knew
the others drew a tag as well because Illinois has a group program so
that if you apply for a group, you either all get drawn or none of you
get drawn.
Now we had to make a major decision. We had already rebooked our Saskatchewan
hunt a year ago and the dates for out shotgun hunt in Illinois were
at the same time. Where would we go? Back to Saskatchewan where I knew
the land produced monster whitetails year after year, or to Illinois
where I’ve heard they’ve killed a few big bucks? We talked
it over trying to decide, Rifle or Shotgun, hearsay or first hand experience?
A few days went by and Tom called me again. "Take a look at my
website www.BucksBeWare.com. I just had a roll of film developed from
my Buckshot Scout camera and this is one of the pictures." As soon
as I pulled up the website our decision-making was over. This was all
the proof I needed. What a buck!
My next question to Tom was, "Is this buck on your farm?"
his answer was a most definite "Yes". He and I contemplated
on how big the buck actually was. Would it score 170 class or 190 class
Boone and Crocket? Who really cared at this point? We both new he was
a monster buck and my question to myself was, "Will this deer get
harvested before gun season by one of Tom’s bow hunters or would
he go nocturnal when the season begins and never be seen again.
November rolled around and the monster buck in the Buckshot photo had
not been seen by anyone. On November 14th we took off for Illinois and
arrived at the Buck BeWare camp at noon. The countryside looked like
it couldn’t have many deer on it. It was all farmland with small
draws of timber. I said to myself it surely couldn’t house many
deer. We went inside the house and saw a few good bucks that had been
harvested from the property. We then visited one of the landowners home
and saw a few more bucks taken from right behind his house. We were
all feeling better about this open farmland.
Tom had news about the Buckshot Buck. One of his bow hunters had him
in his sights at about 18 yards 3 days before, but there wasn’t
enough light left to see if he had a clear shooting lane, so the hunter
passed on the shot. Both Tom and the hunter were very disappointed,
but I was as happy as I could be. We knew where the buck was hanging
out and we knew he was still alive.
The weather was hot, just like back home in Louisiana. It was nearly
80 degrees during the day and the low was in the 60’s. Tom said
this year has been slow due to the weather, but when the peak rut is
in you are still going to see some deer. Most of the bucks and does
are going to be running around with their mouths wide open and tongues
hanging out. Some of the previous hunters had seen bucks lay down in
the middle of open fields, but they were always with a doe. Again, Tom
kept saying how bad the weather has been and that it is 20 to 40 degrees
warmer than last year. We were all hoping that there would be a late
rut and it looks like that is just what was happening.
This shotgun hunting was new to all of us. We were used to our 270’s
and felt like we would almost be like bow hunting compared to our rifles.
Plus, the 1st season was only 3 days long. We were use to 60 daylong
seasons and hunting with any gun we want. How were we suppose to et
a deer to walk within 100 yards or so of our stands when you have all
of these wide open fields of corn and soybeans. Tom had explained that
Illinois farmland hunting is actually easier hunting that in big timber
states. It is easier to set up on a funnel or terrain features that
force deer to come by your stand. It takes the guesswork out of it.
Tom, an avid bow hunter, watched the weather and the wind direction
to determine which 6 stands out of a possible 100 he has set up on his
3500+ areas we were going to hunt. Two other hunters from New York would
be hunting with us. All the names went into a hat and we drew for stands.
At 4 AM the next morning there wasn’t a problem getting up because
we were so excited that we could hardly sleep. After a quick breakfast,
we dressed and were ready to go. Tom took 3 hunters with him and Brad,
one of Tom’s guides, took 3 hunters with him. We had decided that
because of the rut we would hunt all day. Just being there and knowing
what was out there was a good feeling. I would soon panic in the darkness
just after getting settled in my tree stand when I dropped something
out of my backpack and it rattled down the tree until it finally landed
with a crash on the dry leaved below. I wasn’t even sure what had
fallen out. I was hoping it was something I was going to need in the
short term, like my shotgun slugs. I later found out it was my bottle
of Black Death deer scent.
As daylight started to break the woods seemed to come to life with birds
chirping and a mild southwest breeze. The coyotes were letting us know
they were here by the howling you could hear in the distance. That is
something we are not use to hearing back home. I was in a big old walnut
tree in a creek bottom. You could see a hill top skyline all around
the stand. I could see a long ways in the woods, at least 100 yards
or more. All of the foliage had fallen off the trees opening up the
nice open hillsides. They have rolling hills in Western Illinois and
creek bottoms below the ridges that form nice funnels for the deer to
use between the agricultural fields. This was much different than home
as well. The only rolling hills we have are the overpasses on the interstate
highways and the only place we can see more that 50 yards is in a food
plot or an open field.
It was only about 10 minutes after shooting light when I heard footsteps
crunching in the leaves. It was above me on a ridge where I had walked
in only minutes before. My mind started racing with negative thoughts
such as would they smell me or where I walked in? The southwest wind
was in my favor, but they had to cross my path to get to my stand. Would
they smell my boots? I was careful not to touch any over hanging branches
when walking to my stand and I did spray my boots and body with scent
eliminator spray. The rustling of the leaves suddenly stopped and the
silence of the woods took over in my head. Just then I remembered that
I had put a few drops of deer urine around the edges of my boots. This
made me feel better, but still the deer were not moving. It was just
light enough to make our 2 deer against the skyline above. One of the
deer was significantly bigger than the other and I was sure it was a
buck. I studied the skyline again and noticed antlers and a white glow
coming from the larger deer. Then I heard something strange. Something
I had not heard in a long time, a wheeze. I was thinking it must be
two bucks I was seeing in the distance and they are about to fight.
One of them is snort wheezing. I head it again and again and the movement
in the leaves picked up. My heart was racing with anticipation. I knew
they were coming my way, but would they be big enough to shoot or just
small bucks? Then, as if they disappeared, I heard nothing for several
minutes. They must have been behind some brush for what seemed like
an eternity. I froze in my stand. I didn’t even want to blink afraid
they would see me. I was thinking to myself if one of the bucks is wheezing,
he might be the dominant buck in the area.
After the long delay, I see a doe come into my view. I was asking myself
why is this buck wheezing a doe, but at that point I didn’t care.
All I was looking for was antlers and to see how big they were. I didn’t
come to Pike County Illinois to harvest just any buck. I was looking
for at least a 150 class buck or better. Would the first buck I see
in Illinois be a monster or just year and one half old buck? The buck
stepped into view and started moving down the hill toward the doe. I
couldn’t tell how big his antlers were. I remember dropping my
deer scent earlier and was praying nothing like that would happen now
before I even get to see how big this boy is. Then the doe took off
around a big oak tree and down the hill just under the tree I was in.
She was down wind of me now and my thoughts turned to panic. She’s
going to wind me for sure… then another wheeze from the ridge above
and the doe stepped off as if nothing were wrong. My eyes were now focused
on the brush where I knew the buck was. He emerged into a small opening
of grass and out of the briars just long enough for me to have a near
heart attack. I knew he had a lot of antlers on top of a huge body with
no neck. His shoulders slid right up to his bottom jaw. This was no
small buck! The decision to shoot became a no brainer! I aimed my shotgun
and as he emerged past a few trees into another opening, he stopped.
I pulled the trigger. He flipped over between 2 big trees and I couldn’t
tell if he was down for good just down for now. In split second I reloaded
my single shot shotgun and anticipated him to get up and take off again.
He never moved, my hunt was over, just minutes after it has started.
I was still fantasizing when the wonder of technology kicked and my
cell phone rang in my backpack. I had forgotten to turn it off before
I came out to the stand. To get rid of the ring I said hello. The person
said, "I can’t hear you, walk somewhere else to get a better
connection." My answer was, "Hell I’m in a tree, where
do you want me to walk to." I realized it was my dad and I said
in a hurry, "I got a big buck down, I will call you back.
After taking my time getting down from my stand, since tom stresses
safety, I eased over to the buck on the ground to admire my trophy.
To my surprise, I realize it is the same buck that Tom had gotten a
picture of with his Buckshot Camera. What a miracle! Not only to get
a before picture of what your after but to get to harvest him as well.
He grossed 187 4/8 Boone and Crocket. As the old saying goes, "A
picture is worth a thousands words."
The new saying goes, "Tom’s Buckshot Bucks Beware"
To see more pictures and find out more about the hunt visit www.bucksbeware.com
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