This summer has been unusual to say the least. While the weather ran comfortable through summer, it's pushed on into late fall here in the Midwest. Indian Summer at its' longest.
Then there's the global calamity called COVID. Indiana has suffered little in comparison to some states. The economy, despite the media-mongers pervasive declarations to the contrary, is revving strong.
And deer hunting, I suspect, will prove to be a record year. Pair the mild winter of 2019 and summer stretching well in to November of 2020, there certainly is abundant opportunity to harvest a worthy buck and a meat doe or two.
Oddly enough, while my trail cameras have recorded constant and consistent movement across the property I hunt, the signs are lacking. If I didn't know better I would think this year would fall short of even a single buck sighting. The sign posts just haven't been there.
Sure, there's a rub or two. Old and far apart. And scrapes? Well, the mock scrape I used in prior years that typically roused at least a response from the littler bucks has been completely ignored.
The cameras hold the proof that the rut has started, but where are the other tell tale signs of activity?
In a way, the world we live in under the shroud of this viral crisis is much like this year's deer sign. One could scout the paths thinking deer movement at an all time low. They could sign the scrapes, weeks old, collecting the newly falling leaves of autumn. They could ponder on the sparse and weathered rubs here and there with no real connection to the usual pre-rut movements. Just like one could look at record job numbers, stock markets highs, and revitalized consumerism and think, but we're in a pandemic?
The sign posts of an economy roaring back to life after months sitting patiently idle should be a tell tale sign of a better tomorrow. The signs of lower unemployment and increased activity across all markets should be a sign the best is on it's way. The "trail cameras" recording what is happening in America show movement that isn't witnessed when and where we think it should be.
Instead we read about riots, looting, and deadly confrontations. We read scandal and hoodwinking at the highest levels and grandest scales. These are the old, dry and dusty scrapes and rubs that "they" want us to see. Resignation wielded like a vaccine so we don't take to the stand and look for this year's Boonie.
My hunting partner and close friend recently won the lottery for elk hunting in Montana. He and his son took an extended trip to Big Sky Country to see if in their noble pursuit of antlered kings they could bring home a season's worth of meat in a single hunt.
As he passionately retold the experiences they had, he threw in a single comment that caught me off guard.
"Out there are some of the laziest hunters I've ever seen.* They sit in their trucks and drive until they see something, then they jump out and take a shot."
Both he and I are like many hunters in the Midwest; we scout for the best location to throw up a stand or two (or three!) and then we sit there. Repeatedly. But in the midst of the sitting, there's also the midseason scouting and stalking. The "step and scan" as I call it. In know the private land I'm on. I've done my homework, set my positions, and know when, where, and how to slip in and slip out for a chance at dropping one. But that's not always a guarantee. Sometimes, as the season pushes on, other land may yield better results. And to get there means stalking in and stalking out.
I don't think his comment was so much on the "work ethic" of Montana hunters as it was they resigned themselves to the path of least resistance. Staying toasting in the cab of a 4X4 pickup while driving and spotting requires a lot less effort and energy then tracking a bull elk through feet of snow in the hopes of actually sighting one and getting the window to take the shot.
He did not bag an elk on that trip, but he didn't leave empty handed. He and his son both came home with good sized muleys. They chose not to settle for the heater in the truck, but for the chase. Which is what it is, the Great Chase.
He may not have been as successful as some of the locals who knew the hot spots and weren't afraid to drive right to them, but his experience was one for the books. He and his son faced assorted challenges and met some worthy prey that challenge their hunting aptitude and craft. They didn't gloss over the chase in armchair style but embraced it, success or failure.
In the many years of hunting under my belt, I can tell you the failures more clearly than the wins. I can recount the stupidity of certain moments and the ignorance of others. I can plainly tell you how I missed a sure shot or how a smart phone can become the worst enemy of a hunter.
I have read article after article about sign posting. About how to make a lick, a mock scrape, even best times and places for minerals. I've watched videos on cover scents and how to use estrous or buck bombs. Experts explaining calls and how and when to use them. But all of that means nothing if I don't set foot in the blind or climb the stand or stalk the property. Knowing isn't always key. Understanding however, that can make the difference between a freezer full of venison or having to buy beef for the next several months.
And yes, there's a difference. Knowing what a sign post is, where to find them, and even how to read them isn't the same as understanding why they are there and what the deer are doing. I've hunted long enough to know, sign posts can be useful. But watching the game and learning what they are doing in spite of what signs there are, one is more likely find what they are searching for than simply resigning to doing the same thing on repeat. There is always more to be gained by the pursuit, the great chase, than by sitting on the sideline wishing for a better outcome.
