The Pete Buck

The rifle season of 2013 was particularly cold. Following an opening weekend with an arctic blast blowing through that had winds gusting over 30 mph and temperatures hovering right around zero there was only one buck put on the ground in our deer camp and very few deer sighting overall. Monday afternoon I found myself heading out with Pete Pavloski, one of my deceased father-in-law’s very best friends and a good friend of mine. For those who have not met Pete, he is one of the most jovial men I know, is always upbeat, and I truly look forward to hunting with him at least an afternoon or two each rifle season. –If we see deer, great… If we don’t, no big deal… He doesn’t care too much and we always have a good time.

This particular afternoon we were specifically hunting for a certain six point buck that was not only old, but was very respectable by all standards. This buck had been on the official “shoot” list now for three years and he always managed to elude us one way or another. –I cannot recall anyone ever actually having a legitimate shot at this door during rifle season as he would always miraculously disappear mere days before the season and would show back up on camera at an obscure hour sometime after season was complete and the threat of becoming sausage had passed.

We arrived at my father-in-law’s old stand, forever named “John’s Stand”, at about 1:00 in the afternoon. Pete was all set to use John’s old rifle, a sharpshooting Jarrett .300 hand crafted by Kenny Jarrett. This was John’s favorite rifle through the years as it busted more than a few nice whitetail bucks at long distances and was also used in New Mexico on a couple occasions to knock down some fine elk. Pete had shot this gun in prior years with one miss and a kill to his credit. Of course he always talked about the perfect shot he had with it and would usually forget to add the perfect miss he had with it! As I unpacked the vehicle for the afternoon I noticed that the .300 Jarrett was absent. Apparently, Pete had forgot to load the gun into the truck when we left the cabin. With no hesitation I grabbed the “Black Beauty” from the back seat of my truck. Black Beauty was the name my wife had given her Baby Jarrett, another Jarrett that was a bit smaller as it was a .280 Ackley Improved. –This gun is capable of shooting ticks off deer at long ranges! I elected not to even tell Pete that he would be shooting a different gun if it came down to it as I didn’t want him thrown off his game.

We began seeing quite a few deer moving in all directions less than an hour after we arrived in the stand, which was a very welcome sight from the experience that we had over the first two days of the season. I glassed a small hill behind us and I saw movement. Upon further viewing I quickly knew that this deer was the infamous six point even though I had never actually seen him in person, but had seen 100s of shot of him over the years from trailcams. Was it all going to come together this evening? I told Pete to grab the gun and get ready. The buck was going to present himself with a perfect shot at exactly 285 yards. Pete grabbed to the .280 Ackley Improved and asked me where to hold the scope. –I told him to put it exactly where he wanted the bullet to hit as I had the scope zeroed in at 250 yards. Mere seconds later Pete gently squeezed off a round and the buck mule kicked and was gone into the pines. I was not 100% certain of the shot due to the range and the fact that I didn’t have a good rest myself to steady the binoculars while Pete shot. –Nonetheless, I told him it sounded like a hit as I could hear a bullet slap. Pete was worried that he had missed though.

I took the rifle for a walk to where Pete had shot as Pete has a bad hip himself. I told him I would be back after I found the buck. As I approached the spot where the buck was standing when Pete had shot I saw “peel-out” tracks from the buck, but no blood or hair. I then glanced up in the woods and less than thirty yards away the six point was piled up. –A beautiful 100”+ plus seven or eight year old six point buck! Pete was absolutely exctatic as he not only shot a great buck, but had put a perfect heart shot on him. I am sure that the story now is something like, “The buck was 450 yards away and on a dead run when I put him down with a perfect heart shot.” I can certainly go along with that story, Pete! I am sure John was up in heaven laughing his butt off at you while watching you fret about the possible miss you had in your mind.

Opening Weekend ‘13

The Wisconsin opening weekend of bow season is like Christmas for me. I keep a close eye on the calendar for the weeks and months leading up to the big weekend each and every single year. –I have never shot or even released an arrow on the opening weekend in the 26 seasons of bow hunting leading into the 2013 season, but this has never been a concern of mine. The true excitement of opening weekend is simply the fact that it signifies and validates the fact that the fall is officially here.

The summer months of 2013 were spent similar to others, working on cleaning four wheeler paths, walking paths, getting deer stands prepped, cleaning shooting lanes, checking trail cameras, and practicing with the bow. –Thankfully, most of these activities are now shared and enjoyed with my two younger sons and my brother, Nicholas, is usually more than game to help as well. All in all, it turns the usual mundane activities into a lot of fun as we experience everything together in the anticipated arrival of the bow season.

The 2013 season arrived on September 14, 2013 with some nice, cool weather. We didn’t have big plans to go after any certain big buck as we really didn’t have a lot of sightings to go off of yet, despite the trail cameras. However, with the cooler temperatures we decided that if a big doe showed up we would put some venison in the freezer. –We also decided to try something new this year and hung two stands together in hope that we could video a deer or two and maybe even catch one on film getting arrowed. Saturday and Sunday morning I sat with Nicholas in the stand above him in hopes of videoing a kill. We did have a couple of smaller bucks come right by the stand and got them on camera, however they needed another year or two to mature and Nicholas passed on them. Sunday evening we decided to try our luck one more time at this set.

It looked like it was going to rain and we reluctantly left the camcorder home as we didn’t want to worry about the electronics getting wet. On the way to the stand Nicholas asked me if I wanted to trade spots with him and be the “shooter” that night. –Why not. We changed things up and after sitting for only an hour or so a small doe came up towards our stand and was followed shortly by a mature doe. The doe definitely knew that something was not right as she got directly downwind from us. She maneuvered to head back the way she came from, but inadvertently walked across a shooting lane 25 yards from the stand I was in. She scanned the area on full alert, but made the mistake of looking through the pines in the opposite direction. –This enabled me to pull my bow back and I let the arrow fly. The alert doe definitely ducked my arrow and did a quick jolting 180 degree turn into the pines. My arrow was exactly on mark as I watched the flight however, and I knew he sudden duck did cause a slightly more forward and upper hit, but I felt good about the shot. I made eye contact with Nicholas and he wasn’t certain on the hit, but indicated that he thought it sounded good.

As the skies were darkened with lingering rain showers that two of us climbed down and began the tracking a bit quicker than we normally would have in fear of the rain washing the blood trail out. Upon inspection of the scene we nearly immediately located good blood and the arrow was lying in the grass only a few feet from where I shot her. We recovered her as she only ran about 50-60 yards and had a good blood trail to follow. Although we didn't get this particular hunt on video the two of us both recognized the fun that we had simply hunting together as we had years and years before when we were little guys just learning to hunt on the ol' Weiland farm near Brainerd. Nick helped me clean her up and we were able to get the kids and my wife, Andrea, out to see her before it was dark. We then enjoyed a beer as we butchered deer number one of the season. All in all, a great ’13 opening weekend shared with the family and I even shot my first opening weekend deer ever. It’s going to be a great year!

PS- Nicholas, thanks for the help and I promise I will sharpen my knife!

Good huntin',
Luke

The Turkey Decoy Debate

What kind of Decoy?

It seems as though some good hunting friends and myself seem to get caught up with this question over and over. My perspective has somewhat changed over the years as turkey decoys have transformed into more and more realistic decoys. Ultimately, I have come to the consensus over the past few years that may favorite decoy on the market is the Dakota Jake Decoy. This undersized jake with a postured head back tilt seems to drive the most male turkey, jakes to dominant toms, crazy. I have had yet to have a bird booger out on me while using this decoy. The other decoy that is very similar to it, which I have had similar results is the Dave Smith Decoy (DSD). This particular decoy costs nearly double that of the Dakota Decoy and does not have the head tilt like the Dakota so it comes in a close second place. Let’s be clear, neither the Dakota or DSD are cheap decoys, but it all comes down to the old adage--- you get what you pay for and in this instance it certainly is true in my opinion.


One decoy that has found a permanent place in my garage is the full strutter decoy. The one that I have used over the years is a Pretty Boy. I have had some success with Pretty Boy, but have also had some very disgruntling results. There have been too many very nice birds that I have had marching straight in at my set strutting and gobbling their brains out only to make visual contact with Pretty Boy, come out of strut, about face, and take off running the way they came like they had seen a ghost. Uggggh!!! It seems that there is only a certain bird that is in a particular state of mind that will decoy straight in on a Pretty Boy decoy. Just think about it for a minute. –If you were the small or even the medium kid on the block who had his butt kicked by a big guy over time would you want to go and get in another big guy’s face? -Probably not. The pecking order is typically set fairly early in the spring whereas certain birds are always dominant and will remain dominant for the course of the spring.

To Decoy or Not to Decoy…

Some folks out there don’t believe in decoys. I cannot say that I am one of them. Personally, I hunt with the bow and like to have my shots from as close as possible. I feel like the postured jake decoy allows this to happen. Of course, if you’re hiking into an area and need to minimize the gear one could eliminate the decoy(s), but I know for a fact that I can carry my bow, decoy, blind, and chair all in one trip if so required. The only issue becomes carrying the bird as well on the way out, but this is a good issue to have.

Proximity of the Decoy…

The distance at which you put your decoy out is largely dependent on your weapon choice and your proficiency with such weapon. Typically, when I set up for spring turkeys I want to ensure that the shooting is the easiest part of the hunt. That being said, I usually like to place my decoy at a range of 12 yards, but will even bring it in closer if so required by the lay of the land. If you are using a shotgun and your perfect pattern is at 30 yards you should set the decoy up at 30 yards. The bottom line here is that you should have your decoy in such a distance where you feel 100% confident that you can put a lethal kill on a turkey if he presents himself. I am a firm believer that with the top quality decoys that I have mentioned earlier here that the birds will come in and want to confront the decoy so you need to be confident at the range where the decoy stands as that is probably where you will get the vast majority of your shots.

Good Huntin’…
Luke

Runaway Tom

The last season of Wisconsin’s 2013 turkey season brought my son and brother into the woods with me for one last sit. We were very excited about this particular set and hoped that JD would get to see his first kill and Nick would be able to capture some action on video. We set up for an afternoon hunt and while we were setting up we even heard a hen clucking nearby.

After about forty-five minutes or an hour of patiently waiting and watching JD engulf a couple suckers movement was spotted through the woods that were getting thicker and thicker with additional ground foliage every day now. –It was a hen followed by another hen and a strutting tom. JD’s eyes were as bigger as saucers as the birds were about 75 yards out and working their way towards our blind. I gave a couple of very soft clucks and the hens were on a rope moving their way towards the blind and eventually one even walked right up to the jake decoy I had out as if to say, “check me out little man.” As the hens stayed calm and moved their way behind our blind my nerves suddenly went the other way as the tom neared the blind. He too liked (or disliked) the action of the jake decoy as he strutted right up into his face. JD was shaking as I positioned myself to draw on the old boy as he stood only eight yards from our blind. I finally maneuvered myself into position and I released an arrow into the bird’s mid-section, but I wasn’t exactly certain on the hit location as the arrow sank through the bird so quickly. The tom definitely took a hard hit as he hobbled off about 35 yards and lay down. I felt solid about the shot, but was beginning to wonder when the bird was going to put his head down for good. We decided to give him a few minutes before I would retrieve him.

Once a few minutes were up I headed out of the blind to get the bird. However, the bird had something else to say about it as he got up and hobbled a couple steps before taking flight due north (and looking pretty darn good doing it!) I did watch his flight line as my heart sank. –Apparently I did not hit him all that well? I went back to talk to my brother and son and see if they witnessed this whole debacle unfold. Neither could believe it, but both were game to at least help me take a look for the bird. JD and I headed north in the flight line I had picked out and Nick cut a bit to the east as he saw the bird bank that direction and felt that was a decent starting location.

Within a few short minutes JD and I had located the bird as we neared the creek bottom. The tom was laying right on the other side of the creek and hobbled and flapped his way up the opposite bank and rested about 30 yards away in a blow down. I made contact with Nick and after devising a plan of attack he was going to circle around the top of the bird and push him back down towards me. (I wasn't too sure whether I should toss the bow and plan on tackling the bird or if the bow was still the weapon of choice... I kept the bow in hand, but Nick would later prove that Option B was the right choice.) After another couple of minutes Nick was hoofing it after the hit gobbler as both barreled down the hill towards us. Nick pronounced, “Here he comes!” Within seconds he was indeed coming and a few second later Nick had the tom finished off as he caught him in the creek bottom. JD thought that this was pretty darn cool and I certainly will second that. Sometimes a little luck on your side doesn’t hurt.

Upon investigation of the hit on the bird he had broken one leg/thigh and the arrown tipped with a Montec had gone through both breasts in the lower 1/3, but had missed the lungs ever so narrowly.

An UNREAL ending to an unreal season!

Protecting My Decoy

Season D of the Wisconsin Turkey Season finally brought with it some decent weather in terms of temperatures and the snow had finally disappeared--- at least where I was hunting. (Immediately to the west of where I was there was a new snowfall of 12-15” on May 2 so I am guessing that they may have been whistling a different tune.) I had set up a number of blinds to accommodate myself, my father, and brother for our annual get-together. The blinds were set up in some of our usual favorite locations, which showed some decent turkey sign when I was putting them up along with my two sons the prior week. After dropping off my father and brother off at their blind locations I was settled in my location at nearly perfect time. There were overcast conditions present that afforded me a little bonus time in getting everything settled and in place. I placed my sole decoy, a little jake, exactly twelve yards from my blind according to my rangefinder. The first light brought with it on and off rains. I held off on letting any calls out for about 20 minutes after first light as I knew that the birds probably would not be moving extremely early with the weather conditions.

I finally let a soft series of hen calls out with my slate call and immediately had a couple of very vocal hens return volley followed by a mature gobble and at least two ugly sounding jake “gibbles” as I had recently added this term to my hunting dictionary. This banter went on for about ten minutes and for a while it sounded like I was amidst a turkey barn. After a bit the calling subsided and I questioned whether the birds had hopped off the roost and travelled the opposite way to feed in some nearby corn fields. After another fifteen minutes I spotted a number of turkeys B-lining their way right at my decoy set up. I watched the group of about ten birds amble their way through the woods and detected a couple of jakes and one very nice long-beard for sure.

I then began positioning myself with my bow towards a portal that I thought would possibly present me with a shot eventually if they kept working in the way that they were. Within seconds these birds were right in my kitchen as soft purrs followed by a gobble had the hair on the back of my neck sticking straight up as I readied my release and bow. As I slowly peaked up I discovered that the tom was taking out some pent up aggression on my jake decoy and after a series of beat downs with his wing he knocked down. I watched this show for about 30 seconds and as the tom fanned himself out and turned away a drew back and leveled down on him. He turned broadside and I was able to center punch him. A couple of crow hops later and he was down. –A very nice two year old bird that had a 9.5” beard and weighed in just shy of 22 lbs. Certainly a prize in any turkey hunter’s book.

And to put icing on the cake my brother and I picked up our father following the end of the morning hunt only to discover that the “Ol’ Man” still had some tricks up his sleeve as he too scored an admirable bird that rainy morning as well. A great weekend was had by all! I hope we continue our great turkey hunting tradition for many years to come as I am looking forward to my boys joining the turkey troops full-time as well.

"Spring" Tundra Turkey

The spring Wisconsin turkey season really snuck up on us this year as Mother Nature had a very firm grip on us with her never-ending winter storms and no warm-ups in the near future. As the youth season had passed and the first week of the first turkey season approached I took my older son out for a ride on a four wheeler in search of turkey sign. Ultimately, we wanted to locate a spot to set up the blind in hopes of calling in a tom within bow range. –Every year this is an occasion that I look forward to with JD as it gets him looking for wildlife sign and also for “the right spot” to successfully shoot a turkey. This particular spring was different than ones before though as our scouting adventure not only had us travelling through multiple snow banks, but we would ultimately be setting up right in the middle of some white pines where there was at least 8” of snow and ice everywhere. –We didn’t have exceptionally high hopes for the first season, but would nevertheless give it a shot. The first morning of the season welcomed us with more bitterly cold weather. A hot coffee that my brother, Nick, and hunting companion brought with him was a welcome sight. As we occasionally called and intently listened from the blind on opening morning enjoying our coffee we heard a gobble. That first gobble was followed periodically with another here and there, but the toms didn’t seem to be too serious with the cold weather yet. We ended up seeing two very nice toms, but neither was too love love-stricken and we wrapped up the morning with another cup of hot coffee back at my house. The winter weather persisted for the next couple of days and actually got worse as a few inches of snow were dumped on us along with some fierce winds. Just as the opening season was looking like it would be a bust a small opportunity opened up as we looked at the forecast as there was no snow and the lows were only supposed to be high 20s. Nick once again met me before sunup and was a savior as he supplied another cup of hot coffee. Within minutes we were getting settled into the blind that had become concave with snow and ice over the prior three days. With a little work we had it restored and the decoys were positioned. The first (and only) bird of the morning gobbled once right off the roost about two hundred yards out, based off of a pure guess on my part. Within five minutes the tom was down on the ground covering a lot of ground as he gobbled again at a distance I would reasonably estimate at about one hundred yards. Nick and I both began to scourer woods beneath the white pines and I then saw the tom as he puffed up and continued to ease his way toward our calling. He continued on the path of destruction until he got right to the edge of the logging road where we were set up on when he locked onto the hen decoy that was placed about twelve yards from the blind. From this point forward the tom really didn't break strut for close to an hour. -The point where he locked onto the hen he was only 25 yards away, but as luck would have it there was a big old Norway Pine smack dab between us. We certainly got to see one heck of a show as he continued to strut and spit-drum over and over again. I was down on my knees waiting for a shot on him forever as Nick and I ditched our blind chairs and swapped positions in the blind anticipating a quick shot early in the game. -In fact, my feet both fell asleep at one point and I had to lay into the fetal stretch just to regain circulation. At one point I looked over to Nick and he was in pain as well as he was enduring similar issues. We tried repeatedly to coax the bird. All that he had to move was a foot or two closer and he would have been clear from the tree with a very nice shot presentation for the bow. (Had we been hunting with a shotgun he would have been shot numerous times, but then again, we would not have seen the show he put on.) Finally, he broke strut and began walking away. -I had one miniature hole to sling an arrow through and I did. –The Montec laced arrow did its job and had a clean pass through at 30 yards. Two big whump-whumps with the big ‘ol boy flapping his wings and it was over. Upon retrieval and admiring the beautiful tom we discovered one huge spur on one leg while the other looked like it had some frost bite at some point in his life. He had a very nice ten inch beard and weighed in at 22 pounds on the button. In celebration of “spring” and the successful hunt we had we marinated and grilled the bird that very evening. –There were no leftovers!

“Wide Guy”

The 2012 bow season brought with it many anticipations and hopes. During the off season leading up to the 2012 bow season I was able to spend more hours in the woods that I would be hunting through spring turkey outings, summer scouting, and hanging a few new stands with my brother, Nicholas, and good friend, Steve. We had several nice bucks on film with the season approaching and had stands available to hunt nearly every different wind on travel corridors. The opening day of the season brought success to Steve as he arrowed a nice eight point as he traveled under his stand only a couple of hours into the season. Warm temps followed the next couple of weeks and although Nick and I both had several encounters nothing was put on the meat pole. The last night of September brought with it a perfectly still evening and I decided to hunt a stand near the house. This particular stand we had hung early in September and I had scouted extensively with plenty of deer sightings and a few bucks that we had labeled as “shooters” would show up fairly regularly. This particular evening two small forkie bucks browsed in front of my stand and chased one another around. I watched these two young bucks for nearly forty minutes when I glanced to the north where I spotted the buck that I immediately identified as the “Wide Guy.” –This particular buck I had seen a few different times on camera over the past couple of years, but hadn’t seen him ever in person, but there was no doubt in my mind which deer it was as his very wide spread easily gave him away. I had estimated him to be 6.5 or 7.5 years old based on photographs and always said that I would shoot him if I ever had the chance even though he wasn’t necessarily the highest “scoring” buck in the woods.

As Wide Guy approached he seemed to hang up right at 70 yards or so. There was absolutely no wind, but this buck seemed to be relying on a sixth sense that only older bucks have, which seemed to be telling him that something just wasn’t right. After a couple of minutes the curiosity of this buck appeared to overtake his sixth sense as the two forkies chasing one another around brought him towards me. As he approached I readied and drew my bow as he stepped into an opening slightly quartering away at 22 yards. I released the arrow and I watched its flight and it connected right through the lungs where I settled my pin. Wide Guy took off in full force and within a few seconds he was gone and I didn’t hear anything. I waited about 45 minutes, got down, found my arrow coated with good blood, and marked blood that appeared to be coming out of both sides within 50 yards of where I had shot the buck. I decided to head back to the house, wait a couple of hours, and hit the track with Nick and Steve. We also called Mike Hack, who had indicated to me that he would like to get his “blood tracking dog,” Paul, in on a track. Although I didn’t think the buck had made it far I thought it’d be a good training exercise if nothing else for Paul and elected to get Mike and Paul in on the track as well.

Two hours after I’d shot the buck the four of us (and Paul) hit the track. I showed Mike and Paul the blood I marked and the two of them took off down the trail immediately. Only thirty yards into the track Mike and Paul continued down the deer trail that Wide Guy was on even though the blood trail veered off distinctly to the left. The two of them finally came back after heading the wrong way for over a hundred yards and Mike asked where last blood was. I showed him and any confidence I had in Paul was already out the window. Additionally, I thought to myself, “Who names a blood tracking dog “Paul” anyways?” After staying on the blood trail for about 75-100 yards the blood absolutely stopped. We spent the next couple of hours gridding the area and searching the thickets and covered ever trail to no avail. We found absolutely no further sign of Wide Guy and gave up for the evening. Nick asked Mike what his thoughts were regarding the blood trail and Mike simply responded, “I am not God.” -This was apparent, and also apparent was the fact that Paul was not God, Doggie-God, or even as much as an ok blood tracking dog. Needless to say, it was a long night for me as my mind flashbacked to the hit and I was dumfounded with what went wrong and a mix of anger and sadness climbed through me for the night. Andrea tried to ease my mind by making a few jokes about the situation, but I was still sick. I thought about the plan I would take for first light the next morning. As the sun came up the following morning I found myself back at last blood and once again surveyed the area and re-walked the area looking for any sign of Wide Guy. Once again, I found myself in the same situation as the previous evening as no sign showed up. I walked a deer trail that led to a walking path that navigated my property. I decided to walk this path in its entirety in hope that I would cross paths with the Wide Guy or see signs of him. This proved to be wishful thinking as nothing showed up once again. From this point I decided that going back to the last blood was now futile and I made the decision to walk the stream bed that goes along the north end of my property as I knew from past history and instincts that it just seemed to make sense. After walking the stream bed and criss-crossing the stream several times and searching through deadfalls and areas that felt like possible bedding locations I spotted a set of big deer tracks paralleling the stream along the sand edge for about ten yards. At this point I felt like a hand was on my shoulder guiding me and although I didn’t see any signs of blood I just seemed to know or believe that this was Wide Guy’s tracks and went into a thicket off of the north side of the stream that just felt like an area where he was. Only thirty or forty yards into this thicket I spotted a tip of an antler sticking up from the weeds and I knew exactly what it was. I thanked God immediately and made my way to the buck. I was by myself, but felt like my father-in-law, John, and God were both walking with me to the Wide Guy. I looked the buck’s bed over and there was very little blood in it. I also backtracked his trail to the stream and found nothing. Upon field dressing the deer I determined that he was hit square through his right lung and liver. His chest cavity was filled with blood, but bled very little. Interestingly enough, Wide Guy also had an abnormally large heart. I pulled Wide Guy out of the thicket, across the stream bed, up the ridge and back to a gate on my property. Although this was tough work it sure didn’t seem like it. I was so happy and thankful for the way that this had worked out. –It could have gone about a hundred other ways, all of those leaving Wide Guy in the woods, but some perseverance and some guidance from above brought this story to a much happier ending. I made a couple of phone calls on my way out of the woods with Wide Guy to Andrea, Nick, and Steve letting them know the great news. I also pulled myself together and chuckled as I called Mike Hack and asked him if Paul knew how to pull deer. –I couldn’t help myself!