I took out my niece, Kelsey, on opening morning with hopes of video taping her first deer kill or any kill for that matter. We got to our spot and soon realized I was bit by the dead battery bug. I was frustrated to say the least but tried not to let it get me down, we were in a great doe spot and just being a part of her first kill would be awesome with or without a camera. I've never taken a youth out hunting and had to remind myself between her stories about high school or multiple stretching sessions the most important thing was for her to have a good time. I took this low key approach to the max and snuck in a quick nap around 9, she gave me a bunch of grief for it. The morning was pretty dead with only a couple shots nearby. I had already seriously wondered if we were going to see any deer when four does and fawns came running in from the valley below. Kelsey couldn't see them at first but picked up on the lead doe out as she held up behind a group of trees. I don't know how or why I thought of it but whispered "Safety off?" and heard it click forward just after. That lead doe was pretty nervous and I could tell she was on to us. Then I hear "I can't find em' in the scope!" I looked over to see a barrel pointed at least 20' higher than it should have been. I looked back to check deer status and our lead doe high stepped out from behind the trees into a perfect shooting lane. I whispered "I'm gonna stop her" and bleated. She locked in on us, Kelsey got her scope troubles figured out and BOOM!! She bolted out on a death run and I couldn't have been more excited! I slapped Kelsey on the shoulder and said "You got her honey!!" Kelsey looked a little dazed then asked why the deer didn't drop. I said don't worry, we'll find her soon enough and a short track later found us looking over a big heart shot doe.

Now Kelsey shared some of my excitement. She was throughly intrigued by the animal and her questions brought back my own memories of hunting as a youngster. It was a great experience for both of us and I couldn't think of a better reason to have left the rifle at camp that morning.

Here's a good pic of her first shot ever on a live critter. You can see the entry wound right on the shoulder.

My truck was heading northwest across Wisconsin. Dome and I had gotten a late start on this Friday evening and we knew there would be little sleep when we finally reached our Buffalo County destination. Our hopes were high. I'd just spoken with my friend Glenn on my cell phone and he told me about the wide, mature buck he'd jumped earlier in the day as he snuck in to mark a tree for me in a new area we'd stayed out of during bow season. I often pick new bow spots in the pre-dawn darkness, but tomorrow was opening day of gun season meaning shooting ranges increase dramatically. Glenn graciously gave a quick scout of the area to ensure decent shooting lanes from an appropriate tree.

We rolled in to Lee's farm at 1:30am, very scratchy-eyed and tired. My brother, John, who would be my cameraman this weekend, had already arrived and was waiting. A half hour later the popup camper was up and ready. We set the alarm and went to bed. Our hunting property was a half hour drive away, there were still stands to hang and gear to prep, so one, short hour later...."BEEP BEEP BEEP"....it was time to get going.

A foot of snow had fallen just over a week prior so the visibility would be good this morning with the blanket of snow still on the ground. John and I had no problem finding the glow-tacks Glenn had marked a potential tree with. Ten minutes and 5 climbing sticks later, I had our two Lone Wolf treestands in place and ready to await shooting light.

The sun began to rise behind a thick blanket of clouds and light gave shape to the rugged, wooded valley that gave this bluff country its name. "John, I see a buck." I whispered as a year and a half old 7 point made its way down the valley and across in front of us. It wasn't nearly of shooter caliber but it was nice to have our first action of the morning.

Ten minutes later, another yearling buck came by, this time much closer, but it would be our last deer activity for 4 hours. Shots rang out often in the distance of this opening morning but they weren't pushing anything past us.

At 11am, I'd stood to whisper up to John about how cold I was starting to get, hoping to get the blood moving a bit.

"John, I hear something coming!" Noises along the ridge in front of me caught my ear. "I see a couple deer...the second one's a good buck!"

I reached for and raised my rifle as I quickly sized up what looked to be a wide mature buck sporting four good tines up on his right side....a definite shooter.

"Are you on him John?" I anxiously whispered. The crosshairs were already on the base of the quartering buck's neck and the safety was off.

"Hold on" John replied, still waiting for the camera to power on. The buck had chased a hot doe down the ridge and now stood alert on the old logging trail, ready to bolt after the doe again at any moment.

"John, he's gonna run. I need to shoot him!" I was itching to pull the trigger but also itched to get a successful hunt on film.

"Okay, I'm on hi...."

"WHU-BOOOOOMMMMM!!!!!" I'd heard all I needed to hear from my brother.

"Nice shootin' bud!" were John's words as we both watched the buck crumple where it stood. In a matter of 15 seconds, it had all started and ended.

John and I climbed down to approach a beautiful, mature, 150-class 10 pointer. The 5 and a half year old buck was scarred, heavy, and dark. We high-fived and relived the events, then headed to the trucks for the 4-wheeler and still camera.

My buck sported a clean 10 point rack with the start of a kicker on his G2 and a broken kicker off his other G2. He weighed 185lbs. field dressed.

It was going on 12:30 as I made a few phone calls back at the truck, when our third hunter of our group, Shawn, approached with a smile on his face. Shawn had scored on a beautiful main frame 8 point with matching forked G2's that we would later score at 147.5" He'd killed it at 12:15 as it snuck back into the bedding area Shawn had been overlooking from his Lone Wolf climber. Two down, one to go.

Shawn's beautiful 3.5 year old buck sported a great main frame 8 point rack with matching forked G2's much like a mule deer.

Dome was still on stand as Shawn, John and I exchanged stories at the trucks. Buffalo County was an earn a buck unit this season. Shawn and I had each pre-qualified for our buck tags by killing does during bow season, but this was Dome's first trip to Wisconsin, so he had to kill a doe before he could shoot a buck.

Five minutes later Dome strolls up and tells us about his morning. He had dropped his doe at 10:30 and had passed a 130 class 2 year old...all in all a pretty good morning on stand. Yet, upon hearing of my and Shawn's success, Dome's spirit's dipped a tad saying, "Man, there's no way all three of us are going to get one!"

We encouraged Dome to stay with his spot as we were targeting the three best spots on the ground and since Shawn and I had to get our bucks out of the woods yet, we figured him staying in the area he'd been all morning would be a good bet.

John, Shawn, and I headed out with the 4 wheeler to take some good still photos and more video of my buck as Dome set off for his afternoon/evening hunt. Dome said several of the deer he'd seen that morning had slipped through 80-100 yards away through thick cover so a quick stand re-adjustment was in order.

As Shawn, John and I took care of my buck down the valley, we heard several shots in the area. But the steep terrain made distance and direction determination of the shots difficult. I'd hoped maybe Dome had scored but it was tough to tell. A couple hours later with my buck loaded on the 4-wheeler and me and my permagrin walking closely behind, we headed back for the truck.

As we crested a hill in the field nearer the trucks, we saw Dome frantically motioning to come his way. He held his arms out wide. It was pretty obvious he was excited about something, and we couldn't wait to find out!

"Dude I shot a GIANT! You're not going to believe how big it is!" I believe were Dome's words. John rolled camera as Dome explained how at 3:30, a giant mature buck made its way through the thick cover near his stand. He could tell he was tall and mature...at least 150+ but couldn't see much more and really just focused on getting a shot once he knew it was a shooter. He'd followed the buck in his scope for nearly 50 yards before finally capitalizing on the buck's momentary pause in a 6 inch opening. A single shot through the base of the neck dropped the buck in its tracks and sent Dome in a frantic hurry to get down his tree and go see.

What he saw as he approached the fallen slob, Dome admitted, brought him to tears...the good kind. It was a massive, mature non-typical with dark, heavy beams...7 inches at the bases and not losing much the whole way up. With 20 scorable points, Dome knew he'd just killed the buck of his lifetime.

Dome's giant 20 point non-typical completed a trifecta of bucks for us three happy hunters. It weighed 210lbs. field dressed.

As Dome took us over to where the monarch lay, the buck's rack only got more impressive as we all got a closer look. For the next 15 minutes we simply held that buck's rack and stared.

A couple hundred photos later, we grabbed the baseball-bat beams and drug him out of the woods. And we still had to go get Shawn's buck and Dome's doe out!

An hour later, as darkness fell and my pickup filled with the three trophies and one doe, we all looked at each other with smiles knowing we'd just had a day most guys only dream about.

Dome's buck officially scores 203 1/8" B&C net. Shawn's 147.5 and my 152.5, though they looked small next to Dome's giant made for some great group photos the next day.

Sooner or later something good had to happen. I'm not one to give up easy, and although this lease I have in Illinois has been anything but productive, I was confident that by hunting it methodically, sooner or later I'd have something good show up once the rut broke things open.

Saturday November 11th was that day, and I was in the right place. One week earlier I'd poked around in a new area that just screamed travel corridor. It was a sidehill just off a CRP field. To the east was a buck bedding area, and the sidehill and CRP had does bedding in them. I had to go home that day so it would be a week before I could return to hunt it.

This past week back at work was mostly windy, rainy, and warm down in Illinois. The weekend was finally calling for a cold snap. I felt an all day sit in that new spot was in order. If a cold snap one and a half weeks into November didn't get some bucks on their feet on this property, nothing would and I'd soon be hunting elsewhere.

About an hour after sunup, my first deer showed up as a yearling 7 pointer made his way by me at 15 yards. It was quite windy, with windchills in the mid-20's. Staying warm was a challenge, but it's always easier when deer are present.

An hour later a 2.5 year old 8 point snuck past at 30 yards. Still no shooters but action at least. At 9:30 a decent 8 point that I have about a dozen trail camera photos of came through about 60 yards uphill from me. From the photos he looked to be a 2.5 year old but seeing him in person changed my mind to 3.5 as he was noticeably heavier than I thought. Still he wasn't a shooter to me. Right after the 3.5 year old went past, another yearling buck went by.

At 10am a doe stepped out from this small woodlot in front of me. She browsed a bit and then re-entered that woodlot, I presumed to bed.

The steady action continued for the better when at 11:30 I just happened to turn around and look behind me. I immediately noticed a deer's body at 40 yards through the thick brush. As he turned his head, my jaw dropped. I'd just got done telling myself how unconfident I was in midday big buck movement on this property, maybe in someway hoping to jinx myself in a good way. There stood a bruiser of a buck...160+ class. He scurried around that bottom for a few minutes, seemingly on edge. Suddenly he busted out of there (in the wrong direction) and I was stumped. Twenty seconds later, however, my questions were answered as a coyote trotted up that very bottom. The big boy was gone.

I spent the next 2 hours huddled up trying to stay warm in the wind and cold. You see your body go through many phases in an all day sit and mine was now in the "cold but not getting any colder so just suck it up" phase.

At 1:30 I filmed that doe walk out of her bedding area and wander down the heavy trail just to my west 8 yards. Two hours later a buck appeared, intent on finding her.

At first I heard some crunching in the leaves coming from that woodlot. Then I made out a throat patch and antlers as a buck worked a licking branch. As my binocs focused in on him I immediately recognized him as the freaky, 3-beamed non-typical I'd recently gotten a couple trail camera photos of. I knew he was a mature deer from the photos and slapped a wanted label on him that read "shooter". I reached for my bow and readied my video cameras.

The buck stepped out of the small woodlot at 30 yards, behind a wall of branches. He immediately turned left and headed right towards me. The steep ravine in front of me meant he was either going to break left or right and offer a shot in one of my lanes. He chose left where the doe had gone just two hours prior.

He had a brisk pace to him, apparently knowing he had some ground to make up to catch that doe. I had only a foot wide opening at 8 yards that I'd shoot him through if I could stop him. The camera arm-mounted GL-2 would have to take a backseat to the hat cam on my head as I didn't have time to swing it over. I came to full draw when he was about ten feet and closing from that opening. As he stepped in I gave out a rather loud "Muuaaaa" or however you spell grunt. I immediately had the pin high on his chest and touched my release. The arrow disappeared on its mark.

The buck bolted away through the thick cover just west of the stand but soon materialized just uphill from me in the opening about 60 yards away. I thought he'd drop any second but soon became a bit discouraged as he just stood there. I knew I must've caught him back a bit farther on the chest than I thought as the shoulder was back at the shot.

Five minutes passed and he finally just disappeared from sight behind some thick brush. He looked hurt. His head hung low and he had a slight hunch to him. I though gut-shot at worst, but probably one lung and liver.

I gave it one hour and climbed down to sneak out of there. Grabbing my arrow on the way, I saw it was covered in red blood...no guts...good, I thought. Nevertheless, I would give him time to die. Four to five hours at least with a liver hit but I felt uneasy about an overnight wait due to the abundance of coyotes in the area.

After a restless few hours, I was outside making a phone call when I already heard coyotes in the distance. The tracking needed to start. It was 7:30pm when we arrived on the scene, four hours after the shot. A heavy frost was already forming on the ground.

I immediately picked up a good blood trail, not bright red, not dark. Over the next hour I slowly and methodically covered the steady blood trail as my landowner friend, Dan, filmed. I'd occasionally lose the blood as the deer trails branched off. Circling back after each bloodless trail soon got me back on the right path. Overall, it was an easy trail to follow. The blood I was finding was already frosting over, indicating to me I wasn't pushing this buck so I felt confident continuing. About 300 yards into the trail I found my buck dead as a stone. It had been a one lung/liver hit due to that shoulder being back on the shot, but very fatal nonetheless.

After a long but steady blood trail, I'd found the old non-typical.

Not pushing this animal kept him walking and not running, leaving me an easy to follow, steady blood trail.

I'd originally thought this buck was at least a three year old. Upon closer examination I could tell this buck was quite old and past his prime. His spine was boney, his hooves were rounded and worn. His teeth were ground very low and his hair was quite coarse and gray. this old guy had long since seen his day and I'd finally seen mine in Illinois this bow season.

I received a pretty ecstatic voicemail from my brother, John, Monday night. It went something like: "Yeeeaaaaahhhhhhaaaaawwwwww!!!! Slob down in Iowa!!!" and a few other proclamations of his excitement. Just his 3rd morning into his 10 day trip to Iowa from his home in Michigan's Upper Peninsula, John shot his biggest buck to date, a nine pointer that should gross close to 140.

John was hunting public land in northeast Iowa. He researched this area over the summer, ordering plat books and topos of the area. He printed out aerials off Terraserver and went in mobile and independent. His walk was 1.3 miles from his truck to where he hunted. Each sit he saw at least 3 different bucks. On the third morning when this bruiser came grunting in behind a doe, one look was all it took for John to know the buck would easily make his Pope & Young minimum he'd set for himself.

The buck had a dressed weight of 200lbs (the next day), 10" G2's, 9" G3's, 21.5" outside spread.

Big congratulations bro!!

As I drove to one of my public land spots on the afternoon of November 7th, I was only mildly hopeful that I'd have any success at all due to the unseasonably warm weather. In fact, I made the mile long hike to my stand sporting only my camo pants, shirt, and a light jacket strapped to my climber stand.

My set-up was textbook, an island of hardwoods surrounded by tall grass and cat-tails. "With colder weather I might have had a shot here" I thought as I began my sit. The afternoon turned into evening as I routinely grunted and sounded my estrus doe bleat call.

At 5:00 I saw a lone buck coming in, obviously looking for the doe in heat that he'd heard. As the buck moved to within six yards of my tree I confirmed he had a nice rack. After some meandering around my tree, the buck finally offered a six yard shot.

After watching my arrow punch through his ribcage, I watched the buck run across the grassy swail where he soon bedded down on the other side.

At dark I made some phone calls and got help from good friends. A short search revealed the eight point piled up 50 yards past his bed.

Yep, November can be a magical time of year in the deer woods. Good luck everyone.

My wife, Chris, daughter Layne, and I were at our cabin in Northern Minnesota during the weekend for the opening of rifle season. Our place isn't real good during gun season if we get a warm spell and this year was no exception. This season was even worse though, with no deer sightings at all - it was like they just vanished.

I was wondering though, why that airplane continued to circle over the adjacent property for what seemed like a couple of hours on Saturday. Well, Sunday night I found out why. It seems that our great neighbor, who shall remain nameless, has been baiting by the "truckload" per an area game warden, and that is what the DNR was checking out on opening day. And that, it seems, is why all my deer were non-exsistant. I hate to wish bad upon anyone but I think their hunting over a bait pile is all but over with and my hunting will hopefully be restored. If it's legal, go for it. If it's not, don't take the easy, cheap, and lazy-mans way out by trying to cut corners. It'll ussually catch up with you I guess.

I did manage to see the only two deer on my property on Sunday night. A big doe and her buck fawn came by giving me a nine yard "gimme" shot at her.