Whitetail365: The Deer Hunting Blog From Field & Stream

Check out the video link below. It features a clip of a 400” captive buck that is 2-1/2 years old. And no, I did not confuse any of the above numbers. Some readers are no doubt well aware of the antler sizes that can be attained by a buck that has no worries about predation, the quality of his food and, perhaps most importantly, not having to work that hard to punch a meal ticket.

And of course there’s another, perhaps more interesting, issue at work here; selective breeding. Animals like this are genetic freaks, but they’re still produced by pairing the semen from a mutant buck with the DNA of a super doe, and that coupling (translation: Artificial insemination” or as the farmers in my neighborhood call it “A-I”) is rarely left to chance. Breeders of champion (insert livestock of choice here) specimens have little on some of the current whitetail farmers. “Straws” (a small vial containing semen) from the top-end bucks are sold for thousands of dollars each, and of course they come with no guarantees.

So what are your thoughts on a deer like this? Do you find antlers like these an awe-inspiring example of what a whitetail could be if all the cosmic tumblers clicked for him? Or does a behemoth buck not “count” because he’s been—for lack of a better term—“programmed” to do just what this freak has done. We have a long weekend to run this one through the grinder, so feel free to take your time and expound…..

The buck's name is "Sudden Impact." Click Here to watch the video of the monster.

One of my closest hunting buddies fell from a tree stand last week. Bob was just planning to check his stand, maybe sit ‘til dark and watch one of his favorite early-season fields. All was fine as he crawled onto the platform, and the stand held as he settled into the seat. But something felt strange—like the stand base wasn’t quite snug to the tree—so he bounced a bit on the seat.

The next thing Bob remembers was lying on the ground. “It was like getting the wind knocked out of me, but this time, my breath wasn’t coming back,” he told me when I visited him. “And then the pain set in.” He didn’t know it, but he’d bounced off a fence post on the way down, then landed on one side. End result: 10 broken ribs, a punctured lung, a fractured skull (around his eye socket), a concussion, and too many bruises and contusions to count. 

Like all accidents that don’t end in a fatality, Bob’s incident was a good news/bad news affair. On the plus side: He was carrying a cell phone and remained conscious so he could call his wife. He was in an area where he could pick up a cell signal. A friend knew the approximate location of his tree stand. Emergency personnel had an ATV and could reach him. They were also highly trained enough to diagnose the punctured lung and insert a half-inch tube to drain the fluid (doctors later told Bob he’d have suffocated to death had he laid there 2-3 hours without this procedure). By nightfall, my friend had been airlifted to a nearby hospital. He’s home now and expected to make a long and painful—but complete—recovery.

Here’s what went wrong. Bob had left the stand in the tree too long, and the tree’s growth had snapped one prong off the hook that held the fastening chain. And though he’s a devout wearer of a full-body safety harness, Bob had decided that day that a simple belt would suffice. That single strap may have slowed him for a split second, but it clearly didn’t prevent the fall.

You hear the safety messages all the time, and so do I. Wear a safety harness, no matter what. Pull your stands after season and keep them maintained. Always let someone know where you’re hunting and when you expect to be back. This stuff is in our heads, but many of us don’t obey the rules…every time…no matter what. 

Please do.

Every type of tree stand has its place. Postage-stamp assault stands for that long hike to a remote place. Climbers for those nice, straight trees.  Heavy-duty hang-ons for a spot I know I’ll sit all day. And I’m growing increasingly fond of ladders, which surprises me. Thought they were too heavy, bulky and obtrusive for my tastes. But I started monkeying with them and there’s nothing safer—once you get them up—and the best ones don’t bother deer.

I’ve had the same prejudices against the widely-popular “shooting house” for the same reasons I disliked the ladders. But of course, I have to confess my bias is rooted in ignorance. I’ve rarely hunted from one. And also (of course) several of my deer buddies have proven me dead-nuts wrong about their effectiveness. So in the spirit of experimentation I suppose I’ll have to build one some day.

My efforts, however, will not reach the heights achieved by the men who built (erected?) the monstrosity found here. I stand in awe not only of the achievement, but of the man who even thought it up. So how ‘bout you? Ever hunted from something this unique? Have a deer stand that can rival it for sheer audacity? By all means, let me know!

I cursed at a trail camera the other day. Had it out for five days in an area where I knew a good buck lives and, when I plugged the memory card into my computer, 34 of the forty images were black. I spent a day being mad at the camera. Checked the batteries, banged my card-reader on my desk. Even tried to photo-shop a couple of the black holes into visibility. Nada.

Then I realized I hadn’t programmed the thing correctly. I’d accidentally programmed it out of flash mode, a move that naturally renders a trail cam useless when deer are most likely to show. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. Deer season is a little over a month away and I’m a wreck. Doing lots of busy little prep-things that don’t amount to squat; counting tree steps, taking a stand inventory, marking arrows that need repair….Just lots of busy work I convince myself is important, but what amounts to little more than pacing the floor. And, as the camera-thing illustrates, probably not doing much of anything very well.

So what about you? How do bide time as you count the days? Last weekend, I accepted an invite to take a deer drive with one of my buddies on property he manages for his employer. The place resembled a whitetail zoo; we glassed close to 50 bucks (including some real studs) in one four-mile stretch of road. I was jazzed at the time, but the next day my illness was worse. And then my buddy sent me the trail cam pics below. “These are a couple we didn’t see,” he joked in his email. “You should come back again and see if we can find the real toads.”

Well, maybe. Until then, I’ve got a trail cam to set out again. This time, I’m gonna let my kids program the thing….