Glad this election is over and we can concentrate on the important things, such as hunting the rut. I have been out numerous times over the past few weeks and noticed that the bucks are starting to heat up (as early as later October). Warm weather pauses the seeking phase, but this weekend looks like a cold one and will definitely turn up the buck activity. I was able to shoot a buck in New York this past weekend, but not much action other than him showing up on Sunday morning. The weather was horrible with it being warm and extremely windy. I shot him walking down hill from a major rub line and think he was pushed off by a bigger deer. Most of the buck activity I’ve seen on cameras is at night, but there were a ton of new scrapes/rubs popping up daily.
Meat deer
If you plan on taking time off during November, I would start right now. Temperatures in the Northeast look pretty good and if you are up for a long sit, folks who hunt all day tend to have the most activity. I plan on heading back to NY to film some buddies on a few of my private land spots. Friday looks like a “hella” wind day, but chilly. I’ve had success hunting less than perfect conditions usually near thick cover, swamps or in some sort of conifer location/draw. Deer like to hang tight in those areas and not wander too much. Hunt where the does are, bucks are sure to catch the scent and make a mistake. Capitalize on this! November is my favorite time to be in the woods, because you never know what can happen during the rut.
Pretty cool watching this deer grab a licking branch and make a scrape.
I hope to have some exciting footage of a first time hunter taking his first deer this weekend. More to come. Thank you for reading. Be sure to check out our Facebook and Instagram pages for more great pictures!
It has been an exciting past few weeks for the Green Lake Chronicles crew and I am happy to share this first hand story about an awesome hunt Walter experienced in mid-September. Walter is a hunting veteran from Catskills, NY, who has harvested many great animals in his day, but this was going to be his first adventure chasing elk with a bow. Enjoy!
“My first elk hunt was going to be an archery season trip to the Bitterroot Mountains of Montana. Our son, Max, had taken a teaching job in Darby four years earlier and had spent many hours afield learning the ways of Wapiti , the Indian name for elk.
Recently retired, my wife, Jeanne, and I loaded up the truck camper and headed for Big Sky country. Mid-September, prime time for the elk rut, was our target date to be in the mountains. We set up camp in a valley meadow by a small trout stream several miles back in on a National Forest Service dirt road. I spent the first few days hiking ridges looking for elk sign and acclimating to the higher elevation. A freshly-used wallow presented itself on one such hike. “This would be a good place to sit,” I told myself, based on the warm, sunny days we were experiencing. I sat two mornings there in my blind and saw nothing. It was now day five and I was starting to feel a little discouraged with locating elk in the vast wilderness, though I had read that elk are where you find them.
“Tomorrow will be an adventure, no matter what,” Jeanne said, reminding me that Max would be my hunting guide for the weekend. I had mixed feelings on that. Max knew of some great spots and could “talk” elk, but his reputation for death-march hiking scared me. I slept fitfully that night, reviewing my gear and rehearsing the perfect shot in my mind.
“Dad, wake up. It’s time to go!” came a voice from the door of the Bear Den, a guest room Max had recently built. It was a clear, frosty, full-moon morning as we drove up into the mountain pass. “We’ll be hiking up this drainage today,” he said, pointing to a trailhead as he parked at the end of the gravel road. We worked our way up the trail in the darkness with the moonlight providing enough illumination to see the rocks and blowdowns in our path. A cool, balsam scented breeze down drafted from the Continental Divide above.
After almost an hour, we veered off toward the first in a series of north facing alpine meadows. All of a sudden, I felt this supernatural sense of consciousness come over me: the smells in the air stronger, the colors brighter, and a feeling of calm and heightened awareness. “Something is going to happen today. Something good, ” I thought. I have had this feeling of the presence of God in the deer woods before and knew not to dismiss it.
Max stopped, took off his pack and said it was time for us to ready our bows As I removed my pack, he hushed me: “Listen!” A cow’s mew, then another, broke the silence from the lodgepole timber above the first meadow. We scrambled to put on our releases, nock arrows, and get the calls ready. He instructed me to take a stand between him and the elk while he called to them from behind. I quietly moved up to the bottom edge of the meadow and concealed myself in the trees.
Max started cow calling and then I heard the clashing antlers of sparring bull elk. Max kept up the cow calling but, after hearing the real cows drifting away, resorted to bugling. That did the trick! I saw a bull appear in the distance at the top of the steep meadow. Another blow on the bugle call brought two bulls trotting down toward me. “This is it,” I said to myself, still calm from the feeling that came over me just a short while before.
As the first bull disappeared behind some shrubs, I drew my bow and estimated the yardage. He reappeared, still moving toward Max, and I followed him with my 20-yard pin. Just as I found the spot behind and below the shoulder, he stopped. I touched off the release. The arrow flew true and buried to the fletching in his chest. The bull ran off into the timber 50 yards away and fell.
I ran down to Max who was running to me and met with an emotional embrace.
Max expertly dressed, skinned, and quartered the 5 x 5 bull, readying the excellent meat for the two backpack trips back to the truck. By noon we were back on the road to Darby where the elk quarters would hang for five days in Max’s cooler and be butchered into fine fare for the table.
I am a blessed man!”
Bearman and his father, Walter, with a great Montana archery bull
Thank you for the great story Walt. I welcome others to share stories of exciting memories afield. Email me at greenlakechronicles@gmail.com with your story along with a few pictures and you could be the next Viewers Choice Post! Thank you for reading. Be sure to check out our Facebook and Instagram pages for more great pictures!
I started this site as a platform for folks to enjoy outdoor articles, post cool pictures of their pursuits and to share their adventures for everyone to enjoy. I am pleased to post our first “Viewers Choice Article,” a first hand perspective written by one of our followers. Chris is a die hard bow hunter from Massachusetts, where the huntable land is limited and big bucks are scarce. You definitely earn your stripes hunting in the bay state. Please enjoy his recap of this awesome hunt.
“On 11/5 (a Thursday) I took a ½ day off from work and Packed my Climbing Stand deep into a Swamp. I found a hill located in the middle of the swamp made up mostly of Pine Trees. I was drawn to the spot by the aerial photos I have seen of the green trees surrounded by what looked to be swamp. There was a large Holly tree (30-40 feet tall) located in the middle of the Pine cluster. I noticed the Holly had 2 scrapes under it and decided I should set up on the edge of the Pines but within 20 yards of the Holly Tree. The wind was blowing out of the South West. I set up on the Eastern Edge of the Pines and saw a large bodied deer come in at the very last moment of the day. It was too far away and too dark to shoot. I left my Climber locked to a tree and decided to go back on Saturday and sit all day.
Saturday’s wind was West/ North West so it was still going to be in my face and keeping the Pines and Holly Tree upwind from me. I hiked into my stand site at 5AM. I set up 2 Scent bombs about 20 yards away from me at the 10 and 2 o’clock positions. Sunrise was 6AM and by 7AM a small button buck came into the area. He stayed for about an hour or so offering me several shot opportunities under 10 yards. I took a video of him walking under my stand. It was difficult having him around because I needed to sit very still as he was never more than 50 yards away but I felt it was a good sign that he was in the area. I debated getting down and walking out for lunch but decided to stay. The walk was simply too long and I figured I wouldn’t make it back to this spot in the afternoon and I wanted to see that big bodied deer again from Thursday night.
Around 11:15 the button buck returned. He stayed for at least an hour. He was eating mushrooms from under the pine needles. By 1 in the afternoon he was gone and I was getting really tired. It wasn’t worth the effort to shoot this small deer although I considered it several times. My hope was that he would make another buck come in and run him off. I was starting to second guess myself… I was thinking maybe the button was hanging in this area because he knew he was safe here as the other deer had moved into another area. I was worn out and discouraged. By 3:30 the Button had returned again. I figured I would spend the last hour and a half frozen up in my stand by this small deer.
At 4:30. I heard the bushes behind me and to the right crashing. I then heard the distinctive sound of a grunt. I checked the Button Buck’s last location and he was nowhere to be found. It seems like he moved on. I thought to myself that he may have been looking back in my direction all day waiting for this buck to come chase him off. I grunted and the deer started barreling in. It was a large body and I knew right away that it was something I would want to take a shot at. It was moving as if it was going to pass behind my tree. I could tell it was a Buck. A large buck probably at least 6 points, but maybe more. My heart was pounding. I started turning around to face the tree in order to be able to shoot at the deer. He was 20 yards away at my 4 O’clock position heading as if he was going to pass right behind me. Somehow he either heard me or saw the movement because he looked right up . He stared at me for over a minute. My legs we tired and my heart was absolutely pounding. My heart was beating so hard I thought the deer was going to hear it. After a full minute of both of us frozen he finally started moving forward. He took 2 more steps and came downwind of one of my scent bombs. The Buck turned 90 degrees and headed straight to the scent. The Westerly wind blew the scent right across his nose.
There were two trees that were going to come between me and the Buck’s line of sight. When he moved behind the first tree I got into position. When he moved behind the second tree I drew my bow back. I was so nervous at this point I think I tried to shut my right eye instead of my left eye to line up the shot. He stopped behind that tree for what seemed like a minute. My heart was still exploding in my chest. He took one step and only his head appeared beyond the tree. I held my bow back until he started walking forward. I let the arrow loose and watched it fly towards the deer. I could see the lighted knock heading for the deer. The shot looked like it was back and a little high. I was immediately nervous that it was a bad shot. I watched the Buck run off with his tail down. A few seconds later I heard a “Snort Wheeze” from the same area the first buck came from. I grunted and the 2nd buck started tearing a tree up, snorting, and stomping his feet. I knocked another arrow and got ready to shoot at the second buck if he came into view. The second buck ran out of the swamp about 50 yards away from me. He was large but seemed smaller than the one I shot at. He trotted up in the direction of the first buck. When the 2nd buck got to the point where I lost sight of the first one I heard a lot of crashing sounds. I wasn’t sure what happened.
I climbed down the tree and went over to the spot where I shot the deer. I found the arrow and it was covered with blood and hair. I walked about 10 feet and found a few drops of blood on a log. I decided to back out and give the deer a few hours. I decided to go back into the woods at 9PM to look for the deer. We picked up the blood trail. And followed it for about 40 yards. The buck was pumping blood out of both sides and the trail was easy to follow. We found him piled up right in the area I had heard the crashing earlier.
To me the Buck was the bigger than I had imagined. He was a 3.5 year old 8 Pointer that dressed at 190 Pounds. His rack was solid and very symmetrical. He weighed a TON. We had difficulty moving him around at first. I knew it was going to be a long walk out. After field dressing the buck and a few photos we started dragging him out. It took us over an hour to drag him through the swamp and out to the road. I plan on mounting this deer so I can relive this awesome hunt for a long time. Great hunt!”
Awesome story Chris, thank you for sharing with us. I welcome others to share their stories of great memories afield. Email me at greenlakechronicles@gmail.com with your story along with a few pictures and you could be the next Viewers Choice Post! Thank you for reading. Be sure to check out our Facebook and Instagram pages for more great pictures!
Chronicles Pro-Staffer, Bearman, with a nice Montana buck. #slicktrickbroadheads
When I started bow hunting (little over 14 years ago) I didn’t have a clue about the “science” and tuning needed to make sure my broadheads/arrows flew true. I was shooting my dad’s old Bear Archery Whitetail II bow, which weighed a ton and had 50% let off and was using an assortment of old broadheads I found in his gear box. Remeber the funky head called, Pucketts Elk Head Bloodtrailer? I shot this for a year until I finally learned how to tune my fixed blades, then made the switch to Muzzy. I shot my first buck with a bow when I was 15 and the old school Muzzy three blade zipped right through the lungs. Broadheads have come a LONG way since then and folks have many different options to choose from.
Image courtesy of google.com/images
My biggest thing, is to choose a head that will not require a ton of tuning. I want to slap it on the arrow and go. I switched over to mechanical heads 10 years ago and have continued success getting deep penetrations and clean pass through. The original Rage 100g head is nasty, boasting a 2” cutting diameter and cut on impact head. Since Rage energized the market with this simple, reverse slip cam technology, many other manufacturers have stepped up their game. There are a million different calculated and fluffy reviews out there on brands you should shoot, but when choosing a head, I break it down into three simple categories and pick the best one regardless of manufacturer.
Toughness- Whitetails are a rugged animal and if you do not get a double lung or heart shot pass through, you want to choose a head that has enough kinetic energy and durability to bust through bone. Most of the deer I’ve killed have been quartering shots, where I try and zip the arrow through the rib cage into the front shoulder area. A cut on impact, durable head will get you more penetration and hopefully pass through any bones. Broadheads are expensive too! I want to be able to use the same head after I shoot a deer (with changing blades of course) and cheap/fancy mechanicals are usually one shot and done.
Reliability- When you are drawing back on a nice deer, you want to make sure the arrow is going to fly straight. Fundamentals right? Many people who write poor reviews about fixed blade broads, do not take the time to tune accordingly or match their arrows per grain tip. I love fixed blade and have played around with some through the years, but I always make sure I shoot them before going into the woods. Fixed blades tend to be more sturdy, rugged, have deeper penetration and cut on impact. The drawback (other than tuning) is they lack in cutting diameter. Compare those to a mechanical, which predominately have a much larger cutting surface and no field tuning. Their drawback is the potential for failure with the mechanisms. I want a head that I know will work 100% of the time.
Penetration- Traditional fixed blades are known to cause more penetration than mechanical. There is no loss of kinetic energy upon try as with most mechanical broads. Some broadhead manufacturers have tried to fix this problem, such as Rage and Grim Reaper, with expansion on little effort. Bottom line is that you are going to lose some penetration using a mechanical, so you have to figure out whats more important to you. I prefer a head that will penetrate well and open up a wide cut path. Bigger cutting diameter heads will have a tougher time blasting through bones, but will leave a devastating hole.
There are a ton of broadheads out there, but the most important thing is that you choose one that fits your needs and one you can rely on. As I mentioned above, I like a head that cuts on impact, opens up a nasty cut path and penetrates well. Here are my no BS recommendations:
Fixed Blade- Slicktrick Standard 100g. I have seen many animals taken with these heads and they always seem to fly true. They have a solid steel ferrule with a cut on impact and bone crushing head along with four extremely sharp 1” blades. This head will create a clean and deep whole without giving up flight consistency. The blades lock in tight and stay in position. Buy these anywhere for about 38 bucks.
Mechanical- Rage 100g Hyperdermic. I don’t need to say much about these guys. They have a kick ass head. Flies true as a field point and creates a devastating 2” cutting diameter. The body/head is different from the older Rage and comes with a solid one piece steel ferrule. This is one of the best penetrating mechanical broadheads on the market and they open up wound channels like you wouldn’t believe. Buy these anywhere for about 45 bucks.
Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed this post. If you have any questions, please contact me at greenlakechronicles@gmail.com. Be sure to check out our Facebook and Instagram pages for great pictures.
“Dad, wake up. It’s time to go!” came a voice from the door of the Bear Den, a guest room Max had recently built. It was a clear, frosty, full-moon morning as we drove up into the mountain pass. “We’ll be hiking up this drainage today,” he said, pointing to a trailhead as he parked at the end of the gravel road. We worked our way up the trail in the darkness with the moonlight providing enough illumination to see the rocks and blowdowns in our path. A cool, balsam scented breeze down drafted from the Continental Divide above.
Green Lake Chronicles 