Where o where do I start?
I haven't been to Illinois since 2012 and it wasn't looking like I could go in 2015. My in-laws went up for the first 2 weeks of November and reported little deer movement and very warm temps. I logged way too much time checking in on JT and Bubba's LFTT midwest bonanza thread and I REALLY got to hankering to go. Between JT and Bubba's thread and a picture my father in law texted me, I was slobbering. When my in-laws returned, they said the first real day of rutting activity where they saw big bucks chasing was the 13th and I made up my mind that I would take advantage of the Thanksgiving break and hope to catch the later stages of the rut still in action.
So on Saturday morning November 21, I had breakfast with my family and hit the road for southern Illinois. Their 3-day shotgun season had begun on Friday and would give me Sunday afternoon to hang a few stands. After attending church with a family we know, I drove to their farm and hung a lock on and did the rest of my scouting from the road. Sunday afternoon I saw 8 different shooter bucks with racks well outside their ears. Some were with does, some were obviously searching. This was good news.
Monday morning broke 22 degrees and very calm. I was in a ladder stand on a fence row with a cow pasture in front of me and a thicket behind. Deer come from all directions to cross into this thicket and slip along the fence row using it for cover. Daylight had barely broken when I saw 3 does coming my way. When they stopped and looked to the north, I followed their gaze and saw a deer with it's head down and tail up spinning in circles. I knew without even seeing the head, it was a buck searching for scent. When he raised his head I saw good antlers and then he disappeared. The does quickly left the field and in a couple minutes, the buck reappeared following their trail. I grunted at him from about 200 yards and he froze. I grunted twice more and he came practically trotting like he was on a string. I had plenty of time to glass him over and realize his entire left side was broken off at the base. These bucks have been hard on each other. He came to about 20 yards and just stood, licking his lips and steaming up the calm, cold air. He would have been a good wide 140" 10pt. I let him walk, but man what an exciting start to my Thanksgiving week hunt.
My father in law left home at 2am Monday morning to come join me, and we hunted hard for the next 2 days. I hunted the same stand while he hunted the corner of a woodlot a few hundred yards to my south. Wednesday, he spent 3 hours watching a wide 10pt slip into and out of sight while tending a doe. That afternoon, I went and found a tree to put my Summit Viper in and we made plans to hunt the woodlot on Thanksgiving morning.
By Thursday, the temps had climbed and lows were in the 50s and highs in the 60s. We were expecting steady 9mph winds from the SSE which worked for both stands.
The stand in the northeast corner is Denny, while the stand in southwest corner is me.
We got into our stands about a half an hour before day. After I got settled in, I did like I usually do, and take a little time to talk to God. Of course, it's Thanksgiving and I'm away from my family and I spent a little extra time just talking to Him and pondering the things I am truly thankful for. I have a wonderful, beautiful wife who lets me do things like this. She's given me 3 beautiful children who are a constant joy in my life. I've been blessed. I thanked God for the day, and remembered all the other Thanksgiving day hunts in which I've been fortunate enough to take a deer.
Red in the morning, deer take warning!
Daylight began to creep into the sky and I watched a big buck trailing down a fence row about 550 yards away. Shortly after losing sight of him, I saw the 10pt that Denny had seen. He looked like a good 150" wide rack. He was standing with a doe about 400 yards away. He was in straight lock down mode. When she moved, he moved. When she bedded, he bedded. I watched them for over an hour and watched them both ignore a pair of young bucks that sparred with each other only yards away from the big buck. I don't know what spurred it, but I looked up and the doe was bolting across the field with the big 10 chasing. They ran east across the field, hopped a fence into a green field and then turned north and entered a soybean field where I lost sight of them. So much for that.
My view to the west. The edge of this field was where Denny saw the big 10 tending his doe the day before.
To the south. This is the field the big buck was bedded in. It's a 23 yard shot across the barbed wire fence and deer like to travel it.
To the east, directly under the sight on my bow, you can see the soybean field where the doe led the big 10. Just across the fence row behind the old truck cab is a patch of standing brush that the deer seem to like to mill around in. I guess they feel secure.
About 10 minutes after I lost sight of the buck and doe, I looked to my southeast and saw a huge buck running west in the green field with cows. I lost sight of him as he entered a ditch row. I figured he was the big 10 and he had lost his doe and was searching. In a couple minutes, he appeared about 150 yards south of me, and when I put the binoculars on him, I realized he was a different buck. A tall 8 or 9 with great mass. The wind was gusting hard, so I grunted hard. He turned and began a slow, purposeful walk north...towards me. I was already standing, so I took my bow off the hanger and folded it back out of the way. He kept closing the distance until he was standing in the tall weeds behind the old truck cab. When he hopped the fence, I ranged him at 43yds. He continued to walk diagonally in my direction and I kept the rangefinder on him. 38, 36, 32....oh crap, this is gonna happen, Lord, make me accurate....29, 27, 23.....I put the rangefinder down and drew my bow. I had to lean out over the arm rest of my stand, crouch and duck to get my top limb clear of my easy hanger.... and there he was. Stepping out from behind a tree at 20 yards, perfectly broadside. I bleated at him and he froze. I found him in my peep, put the pin behind the shoulder, and let it fly. I watched the arrow disappear and saw the mark it left in his coat. It was right in the boiler room. He bounded away like he hadn't felt a thing, only heard the bow. I watched him run about a hundred yards and turn to look back. Then his rear legs gave out on him and he went down.
It was right then, I had to have a moment with God. Such a feeling of emotion flooded over me. But I'll keep most of that between me and Him. My phone buzzed, it was Denny telling me he saw it go down. He said later that he heard the shot and the arrow smack and grabbed his bow in case he needed to finish it, but when it ran by him, he saw where the blood was pumping from and knew it wouldn't go far.
I shook like a leaf for at least 20 minutes after the rush. I texted my wife to let her know, and a few buddies. My fingers just couldn't find the right buttons. We sat tight (do you know how hard it was to sit tight with a trophy laying 120 yards away) hoping the big 10 would come back and give Denny a shot. After an hour of seeing no deer, we decided to get my buck out and let the woods calm down for an afternoon hunt.
This is the view of where it all went down. The big smooth barked tree to the right side of the trail was the one he stepped behind when I drew. He was almost standing in the trail when I shot him, and he ran east towards the soybean field.
And now for the big reveal!
It was the giant tall-tined 10 that Denny had sent me a picture of that got me all fired up to go to Illinois in the first place.
He's been fighting (as apparently they all have) and lost his left G3 and right brow tine. Trail cam pics show the lost G3 is 12-13" long. I really, really don't care about scores, but I have to wonder what he would have scored with all his tines. His right G3 is 11" long.
We didn't weigh it, but the landowner figured 230 on the hoof. It was a true giant.
I haven't been to Illinois since 2012 and it wasn't looking like I could go in 2015. My in-laws went up for the first 2 weeks of November and reported little deer movement and very warm temps. I logged way too much time checking in on JT and Bubba's LFTT midwest bonanza thread and I REALLY got to hankering to go. Between JT and Bubba's thread and a picture my father in law texted me, I was slobbering. When my in-laws returned, they said the first real day of rutting activity where they saw big bucks chasing was the 13th and I made up my mind that I would take advantage of the Thanksgiving break and hope to catch the later stages of the rut still in action.
So on Saturday morning November 21, I had breakfast with my family and hit the road for southern Illinois. Their 3-day shotgun season had begun on Friday and would give me Sunday afternoon to hang a few stands. After attending church with a family we know, I drove to their farm and hung a lock on and did the rest of my scouting from the road. Sunday afternoon I saw 8 different shooter bucks with racks well outside their ears. Some were with does, some were obviously searching. This was good news.
Monday morning broke 22 degrees and very calm. I was in a ladder stand on a fence row with a cow pasture in front of me and a thicket behind. Deer come from all directions to cross into this thicket and slip along the fence row using it for cover. Daylight had barely broken when I saw 3 does coming my way. When they stopped and looked to the north, I followed their gaze and saw a deer with it's head down and tail up spinning in circles. I knew without even seeing the head, it was a buck searching for scent. When he raised his head I saw good antlers and then he disappeared. The does quickly left the field and in a couple minutes, the buck reappeared following their trail. I grunted at him from about 200 yards and he froze. I grunted twice more and he came practically trotting like he was on a string. I had plenty of time to glass him over and realize his entire left side was broken off at the base. These bucks have been hard on each other. He came to about 20 yards and just stood, licking his lips and steaming up the calm, cold air. He would have been a good wide 140" 10pt. I let him walk, but man what an exciting start to my Thanksgiving week hunt.
My father in law left home at 2am Monday morning to come join me, and we hunted hard for the next 2 days. I hunted the same stand while he hunted the corner of a woodlot a few hundred yards to my south. Wednesday, he spent 3 hours watching a wide 10pt slip into and out of sight while tending a doe. That afternoon, I went and found a tree to put my Summit Viper in and we made plans to hunt the woodlot on Thanksgiving morning.
By Thursday, the temps had climbed and lows were in the 50s and highs in the 60s. We were expecting steady 9mph winds from the SSE which worked for both stands.
The stand in the northeast corner is Denny, while the stand in southwest corner is me.
We got into our stands about a half an hour before day. After I got settled in, I did like I usually do, and take a little time to talk to God. Of course, it's Thanksgiving and I'm away from my family and I spent a little extra time just talking to Him and pondering the things I am truly thankful for. I have a wonderful, beautiful wife who lets me do things like this. She's given me 3 beautiful children who are a constant joy in my life. I've been blessed. I thanked God for the day, and remembered all the other Thanksgiving day hunts in which I've been fortunate enough to take a deer.
Red in the morning, deer take warning!
Daylight began to creep into the sky and I watched a big buck trailing down a fence row about 550 yards away. Shortly after losing sight of him, I saw the 10pt that Denny had seen. He looked like a good 150" wide rack. He was standing with a doe about 400 yards away. He was in straight lock down mode. When she moved, he moved. When she bedded, he bedded. I watched them for over an hour and watched them both ignore a pair of young bucks that sparred with each other only yards away from the big buck. I don't know what spurred it, but I looked up and the doe was bolting across the field with the big 10 chasing. They ran east across the field, hopped a fence into a green field and then turned north and entered a soybean field where I lost sight of them. So much for that.
My view to the west. The edge of this field was where Denny saw the big 10 tending his doe the day before.
To the south. This is the field the big buck was bedded in. It's a 23 yard shot across the barbed wire fence and deer like to travel it.
To the east, directly under the sight on my bow, you can see the soybean field where the doe led the big 10. Just across the fence row behind the old truck cab is a patch of standing brush that the deer seem to like to mill around in. I guess they feel secure.
About 10 minutes after I lost sight of the buck and doe, I looked to my southeast and saw a huge buck running west in the green field with cows. I lost sight of him as he entered a ditch row. I figured he was the big 10 and he had lost his doe and was searching. In a couple minutes, he appeared about 150 yards south of me, and when I put the binoculars on him, I realized he was a different buck. A tall 8 or 9 with great mass. The wind was gusting hard, so I grunted hard. He turned and began a slow, purposeful walk north...towards me. I was already standing, so I took my bow off the hanger and folded it back out of the way. He kept closing the distance until he was standing in the tall weeds behind the old truck cab. When he hopped the fence, I ranged him at 43yds. He continued to walk diagonally in my direction and I kept the rangefinder on him. 38, 36, 32....oh crap, this is gonna happen, Lord, make me accurate....29, 27, 23.....I put the rangefinder down and drew my bow. I had to lean out over the arm rest of my stand, crouch and duck to get my top limb clear of my easy hanger.... and there he was. Stepping out from behind a tree at 20 yards, perfectly broadside. I bleated at him and he froze. I found him in my peep, put the pin behind the shoulder, and let it fly. I watched the arrow disappear and saw the mark it left in his coat. It was right in the boiler room. He bounded away like he hadn't felt a thing, only heard the bow. I watched him run about a hundred yards and turn to look back. Then his rear legs gave out on him and he went down.
It was right then, I had to have a moment with God. Such a feeling of emotion flooded over me. But I'll keep most of that between me and Him. My phone buzzed, it was Denny telling me he saw it go down. He said later that he heard the shot and the arrow smack and grabbed his bow in case he needed to finish it, but when it ran by him, he saw where the blood was pumping from and knew it wouldn't go far.
I shook like a leaf for at least 20 minutes after the rush. I texted my wife to let her know, and a few buddies. My fingers just couldn't find the right buttons. We sat tight (do you know how hard it was to sit tight with a trophy laying 120 yards away) hoping the big 10 would come back and give Denny a shot. After an hour of seeing no deer, we decided to get my buck out and let the woods calm down for an afternoon hunt.
This is the view of where it all went down. The big smooth barked tree to the right side of the trail was the one he stepped behind when I drew. He was almost standing in the trail when I shot him, and he ran east towards the soybean field.
And now for the big reveal!
It was the giant tall-tined 10 that Denny had sent me a picture of that got me all fired up to go to Illinois in the first place.
He's been fighting (as apparently they all have) and lost his left G3 and right brow tine. Trail cam pics show the lost G3 is 12-13" long. I really, really don't care about scores, but I have to wonder what he would have scored with all his tines. His right G3 is 11" long.
We didn't weigh it, but the landowner figured 230 on the hoof. It was a true giant.
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