2015 Southern Illinois Trip

For the last four years, my group of hunting buddies have made an annual pilgrimage to Southern Illinois in pursuit of giant Midwestern whitetails. I have been fortunate enough to be a part of the last three trips. It is something we look forward to all year long, the opportunity to tag a true monster. For months we watch the pros on television knocking down stud after stud in the Land of Lincoln. There is nothing that compares to the feeling that at any moment, the largest buck you have ever seen could emerge from tangled thickets. We plan our trip months in advance to coincide perfectly with the rut, expecting these mature bucks to be moving around seeking out a receptive doe. To our credit, we have picked out some good weeks in the past with multiple hunters tagging out, or at the very least having opportunities. This year our luck had run out. Anyone hunting in the Midwest this first week of November thought the same thing, It's too damn hot!

I started looking at the weather for Ziegler, Illinois about three weeks before our trip. 70's, 80's, even 85 degrees was in the forecast. Last year when we landed in St. Louis it was 33 degrees at lunchtime. This year, 75. I tried to stay positive, the deer still had to move at some point. The first four days were an absolute grind. I hunted hard, sitting all day twice, only to see a few doe, a spike buck, and a small eight pointer. The small eight gave me some hope due to the fact that I rattled him in to 10 yards, showing obvious rutting behavior. The last 2 hours of my fourth day were washed out by a thunderstorm. I was hoping the weather change would jump start some deer movement, but I was the only idiot not seeking shelter that evening.

After that cold front passed things did get better. The day time highs struggled to reach 60, and the morning lows hovered in the mid 30's. The wind also shifted to the north west, but was relatively calm by Illinois standards. I took a chance and hunted in the timber that night, as opposed to the field edges I had been concentrated on. The move did not pay off, as my friend Tom saw 30+ deer working the field, and I had to settle for a beautiful sunset under a canopy of white oak trees. With one day left I decide to go back to the field edge, but slightly into the wood lot. It was the place on the property which had the most sign, 6 active scrapes, which at this point was more than enough for me to warrant an all day sit.

On the way to my stand on the last morning I was full of optimism. I could see by breath for the first time all week, frost covered the field, replacing the fog of previous mornings. I freshened up a few of the scrapes, climbed into my stand, and waited for dawn to creep over the horizon. As day broke, I interrupted the silence with a brisk rattling sequence followed by a few grunts. Within seconds I had two small bucks rush in to investigate. That was the theme for most of the morning. Small buck after small buck, with a few curious does in between. From 8:30 till 4:00 my only visitor was a 3 pointer who checked out the scrapes around noon.

Outfitter Mike Wright
field dressing a doe

Around 4 pm, 2 doe walked down the main trail into bow range. The larger of the two was alert, checking the intersecting trails and adjoining field. I did not want to shoot her, but she had worn out her welcome. The longer she hung around, the better her chances were to pick me out and blow out all the other deer with her. After watching her for 15 minutes, I finally released an arrow. She ran 35 yards and piled up in the thicket. The doe that was with her continued to forage for acorns, unaware of what had taken place. With 30 minutes of shooting light left, I decided to hit my rattling bag one more time. Almost instantly I had a 125" buck march in 40 yards to my right. As the buck continued towards me, he noticed the doe across the trail. I grunted and snort wheezed frantically, but he was much more interested in that doe, than with me. The dance continued till the sun set, the buck never giving me a shot, as he trailed the doe into the brush.

Southern Illinois Sunset

This years trip fell well short of expectations. We only harvested a handful of doe, and nobody had an opportunity at a quality buck. That being said, the camaraderie experienced at deer camp is tough to beat. We caught up with some old friends while making new friends as well. These are the people that I will look forward to seeing for years to come. If you only judge the success of the hunt by its harvest, than I feel you are doing yourself an injustice. You can experience all the unforgettable memories of a hunt without ever releasing an arrow. I am already planning for next years trip to Southern Illinois, but with all this talk of global warming, the second week of November looks better and better.