Close Encounter Hunting The Storm

Movin' to feed after a storm.

If I haven’t mentioned it enough in previous blogs, I love to hunt the storm. Not just storm chasing, but actually hunting in the veritable weather conditions surrounding a storm system. It is an amazing challenge but using the weather conditions as assets in your hunting toolbox can prove quite productive, and this weekend’s storm did not disappoint.

I'm wet, and cold, but a break in the rain
came just before deer started moving.

 

Days where the wind is blowing and the rain or snow is lightly falling can be some of the best times to close the distance on mature deer. Sometimes when the weather looks awful –it is, but it’s also good “buck weather.” I was fortunate to spend a little time on some public land in eastern Iowa Sunday morning, just a little ahead of the rain. I later hunted in the rain and wind Sunday evening on a travel corridor in central Iowa. Both sits were productive as I lucked out with an eye-to-eye encounter with a tall-tined 8 point buck in the morning. I also managed to observe some rut behavior and above average movement on the travel corridor in the evening –in addition to soaking my hide. Here’s the story from my morning encounter with a public land trophy at 8 paces:

First light public hunting.

The blue glow in the eastern sky put a little kick in my step. I needed to move a bit quicker in order to get to my spot before first light. I didn’t even know where that spot was exactly, but it was buried in crisp, cool blackness and I wasn’t swift nor quiet enough.

He made that rub on the left as I sat 8 paces away.

Then I heard a snort. That sounded close, perhaps only 50 yards. Buck? Doe? Cow? I froze. The forest floor stopped crunching and complaining about my hunting boots and fell silent as the trees watched overhead. After five minutes I heard what sounded like the pitter-patter of deer hooves over the wet leaves and decided this spot was good enough. I unfolded my tripod stool, pulled my pansy pad from the backpack and saddled up next to a wild raspberry bush. Silence surrounded me like the pre-dawn blue, up until the bush to my left began to move.

I just wish I could shoot with the hood down.

I didn’t even hear him. It was as if he had been there the entire time. His antlers silently shook the leaves in the small tree he was rubbing bark off of and I was in shock. Slightly scared of the 200 pound dog-with-horns to my immediate left, I knocked an arrow in slow motion and clipped my release to the string. For some daft reason I felt safer crouching behind my bow, silently I waited.

Early rub 10-6-13.

His beautiful rack was silhouetted in the blue-green glow, but there wasn’t enough light to see his entire body. A feeble zephyr, my ghillie suit and about 10 minutes of waning darkness was all that separated my arrow from flight. 5 minutes later I felt the breeze shift and the gentle giant leaped. When he landed, the ground shook with a deep thud, my heart stopped and I drew back. Three bounds later the buck was at 20 yards, stopped broadside and looking around like Jackie Bushman confronted with a snake. I drew down when he walked off down the trail past a scrape, disappearing into the darkness. Exhilarated, relieved and a little bewildered I watched my breath rise slowly with the wind as it resumed its original direction. 

That was close.

Early scrape 10-6-13.

Let me give a big thank you to Kevin for having me out there for such an encounter. We've seen some sparring and an increase in rutting activity over the last 4 or 5 days. The rubs and scrapes are popping up all over and it’s still very early, but it’s getting close to game-time. Good luck out there.