Illinois Rut Success!

Posted on 11/13/24 at 8:04 am

Posted by mylsuhat

Mandeville, LA

Member since Mar 2008

49891 posts

Posted on 11/13/24 at 8:04 am

This season marks 10 years that my dad and I have traveled up from Louisiana to Nunya Bidness, IL.

2023 was a very abbreviated trip for me as I had my first kid that summer. I went up for 3 days, killed a big doe, then headed back home to help.
Now that our little boy is a year older and in daycare, I felt better about going for a full week, to chase rutting bucks in the Midwest.

My dad is close to retirement and is doing somewhat of a “retired guy dry run,” decided to haul his camper up on November 1st and booked his slip for 16 days. I left home early in the morning on November 5th in time to get up there and do some scouting, possibly a hunt that evening. The weather was dreary, so I drove around, glassing fields, taking stock of how many trucks were parked at which spots, etc. Eventually, I took a road that dead ended near a corn field. I sat there, glassing what I could see, and studying the maps. The rain began to slack off, I decided to take a walk to check some ground for sign. It was 4:00pm. I was very aware that other folks could be hunting so I wanted to be mindful of where I scouted. I got about 200 yards down the cornfield edge when I saw a light blink three times from a tree above the corn, on the perpendicular edge to what I was walking. I assume it was a hunter was about 400+ yards away so I immediately backtracked and took a different course. I veered off into some CRP and jumped a doe and fawn minutes later. They just kind of scampered off. I proceeded, following trails, and came up on a spot that was just covered in scrapes and rubs. I tucked my little tri-fold chair into some brush and sat there for the last hour of light. Didn’t see anything but I did hear what sounded like deer moving around.

The next morning, I went to a tree in a different area that I had hunted years prior, knowing I would be able to climb and hunt a historically good area in a pinch. Caught movement about 7:30 AM. I saw antlers but didn’t know what. The buck is doing a sprint-stop-sniff repeat thing. As he approaches, I was 50/50 on if he was a shooter or not. Probably a 3.5 8pt. A good deer. Not a great deer. As fate would have it, he never gave me a shot so that decision was easy.

Midday, we scouted the area I sat the evening before, found a very good spot to set up. Trails, scrapes, rubs. Only problem was the wind was not good to sit there that afternoon. Went back to the tree I hunted in the morning. 3 bobcats, 1 spike, 2 does.

Morning of November 7th, I walked in early and got settled in the CRP. Roughly an hour after dawn. I noticed a buck at a scrape about 80 yards north of me. Watch him in the binoculars. Two bucks! Both young, 1.5-2.5 deer. They make their way my direction but the closest they get is about 40 yards. What this made me realize is that there were some scrapes over there that I didn’t see before. This made me realize that I needed to adjust my setup. I moved over about 20 yards to the SW, giving me a 30 yard shot at the scrapes in a tight window.

That afternoon, I got back in around 3pm. At 4:00 I hear deer moving and rustling through the brush very near where I sat in the morning. Being on the ground, I could never catch a glimpse. At 4:15 a doe pops out. Then a fawn. Then another doe and fawn. This makes sense. This is what was making all the noise. The 4 deer hang out, eat a little, the fawns play, but the does mostly just stand there. All of a sudden they all scamper. Another deer appears, he has antlers and he is big. This buck stays out a bit and always behind brush. I am frozen like a statue. There are 5 deer around me and one is a shooter. One doe and the two little ones are 15-20 yards to my left. The other doe went away and is standing 50ish. Of course, this buck walks out and goes THAT way. I took my chance, drew my bow and stopped him. He’s at 40 yards quartered away. I am telling myself, this is a bad shot, don’t… I did. I took the shot, the arrow looked good until it didn’t. It hit a branch and deflected. All the deer bound off. All unharmed.

At dark, I retrieve my arrow and break that stupid branch.
Morning of November 8th. I’m back. Nothing is moving at all. I walk back to the truck at 11. Grabbed lunch and got back out there at 1:30. If he was going to come back around, I needed to be there.

2:30 PM. My dad is texting me that a bunch of guys moved in where he was hunting, and he decided to move elsewhere. I reply saying that I think it’s a good idea. Put the phone in my bino harness, look up and he is standing there, 50 yards away, in the sunlight, like he was just placed in this gap.

The buck sniffs around the grass I walked in the day prior when I went to get the arrow and confirm there was no blood. He starts to move off, heading downwind. As soon as he gets out of sight (still close) I grab my grunt, cover the end of the tube, and give two short grunts. I see him freeze and start back. Here he comes. He walks into my shooting lane, head on and stares my way for 5 minutes but it feels like an eternity. He stares, licks his nose, sniffs. He wants to see the buck that grunted.

My heart is absolutely pounding. I try everything, 4 second inhale, 4 second hold, 4 second exhale, 4 second hold. It took a while before I could actually complete the breathing exercise but it does the trick.
Finally, not seeing the grunting deer, the buck turns to leave. As soon as his head turns, I draw my bow. He’s quartered away. “MEHP” He stops. My pin is dialed to 35 yards. He’s a smidge over that. I settle and squeeze it off. Unlike yesterday, I feel 100% confident in this shot. The arrow arcs beautifully and buries behind the last rib. He does a giant mule kick and tears out of there.

I text my dad, “I THINK I JUST KILLED HIM!”

I tried to give it time but after 15 minutes I had to get down and go see. Get to the point of impact and immediately see blood. There is blood as far as I can see. I went back to where my stuff was sitting, shed my leafy suit, and took up the trail. 50 yards later, in almost a straight line, I see half of his rack sticking out of the grass!

I could not be happier with this buck. A mature, bruiser, of the Midwest.

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