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From The Pro Shop by Fred Lutger Big,
Big & Bigger Illinois Bucks
It is a mind game. Did I pick the right spot? Maybe all the sign I see is from nocturnal movement. Is the wind right? I’ve been here 5 hours and haven’t seen a deer. I’m going to eat a sandwich. I laid my shotgun across my lap and opened my pack as slow and quiet as possible. I pulled out a bottle of water and a flattened ham sandwich I made the night before. With the sandwich resting on one knee, I turned the cap on the bottle of water and glanced down at one of the biggest whitetail bucks I’ve ever laid my eyes on, living or dead! He had a tremendous rack with too many points to count. Movement in the thicket to my left drew my attention as another equally impressive buck heading my way. I glanced from buck to buck. Both had nice antlers. The buck under my stand was more impressive. I focused my attention on him as I slipped the bottled water into my pocket, juggled the sandwich on my knee and slowly lifted the shotgun from my lap. This is the first year I have shotgun hunted west central Illinois’ “Golden Triangle.” This area lies between the Illinois River and the Mississippi river encompassing Pike, Brown and Adams counties. I live in Illinois’ flat lands 30 miles south west of Chicago. Illinois stays flat, with field after field of corn and soybeans, from my house to the Illinois River in Havana. Traveling southwest of Havana on Route 24 the landscape changes and hardwood ravines appear around agriculture fields. The land changes to gentle rolling hills. Farther west and closer to the Mississippi you can see the work Mother Nature did carving out deep ravines and adding tributaries and creeks, all heading to one of the two rivers. I was introduces to this area surprisingly by a Michigan bow hunter and good friend, Bill Goodwin. Bill is the owner of North Starr Treestands in Hillsdale, Michigan. Bill invited me on a late season bow hunt with Rob McNeff who runs Wells Creek Outfitters. I arrived late on the first day of my hunt and Rob left me a note and a map directing me to a stand behind the lodge. Three days later I had watched over 100 deer pass the five different stands I used that weekend. Seventeen of these deer were antlered bucks. I didn’t get a shot at a keeper buck but did tag a doe on the third morning. That was 13 years ago and I am now a fixture of this area during deer season. I have made many friends in the area and have access to several farms and thousands of deer. Life is good. The season prior to my newfound love of Illinois’ shotgun deer season I was bow hunting on a farm owned by Mike Pavlick in Brown County. Mike lives in the next town over from me and learned I had been hunting the Golden Triangle area. He invited me on a trip with him that fall. I was pleasantly surprised to learn Mike’s farm was right down the road from Rob. Mike had also bought a farm a few miles away in Adams County. I walked the farms with Mike and he gave me the run of the land for the next week. I hunted both farms and got a feel for and good look at the deer movement the next 3 days. On Thursday Bill and his son JR came down to Rob’s and we had dinner and discussed the deer movement. This was the first week of November and the deer were in pre-rut. I hadn’t witnessed any doe chasing but had seen many bucks out cruising during the day. I went with Mike the next morning to his Adams county farm. Mike dropped me off on a path leading up a high ridge to a newly placed stand. I had action at first light. A nice buck was trailing a doe just out of range and behind some thick Cedar trees north of the stand. This proved to be the deer hot spot this morning as I saw more deer movement in the Cedar thicket. As noon approached I heard crashing and twigs snapping as a doe broke from the thicket and headed my way. I grabbed my bow knowing a buck would be following. He was a nice buck. I didn’t know if he would make the book. I had little time to make a decision but decided to shoot when the buck entered my shooting lane. I didn’t like my hit. It seemed too far forward. I watched the buck run 30 yards and collapse. I got lucky. The arrow
did enough damage to put him down in sight. Mike was waiting to pick me
up and walked up the ridge when I didn’t show up on time. I was glad he
did. I had a dragging partner.
I was up early the next morning and went to the high spot of Mike’s Brown county farm. I headed for one of Mike’s older stand locations. The stand is on a hardwood-covered hilltop two hundred yards up from a picked cornfield surrounded by a creek. The hilltop is the beginning of a mile long saddle that joins more cornfields. Steep ravines drop off all sides of the saddle to more creek bottoms below. I sat comfortably in my favorite kind of tree, a giant White Oak. I’m a big man and I like a tree with a big trunk and big branches that help hide my human silhouette. First light had me staring at an approaching buck. He was on a well-defined trail leading right to my stand location. I didn’t have good shooting light. The buck stopped. He was there to gather a stomach full of acorns before heading for his morning resting area. As he fed by I got a look at his fork horn rack. This was a year and a half old buck, our future trophy deer. As I enjoyed my surroundings I saw the movement of another deer approaching on the same trail. It was a buck! This is a good buck From a distance I saw his rack had more mass and more tines than the previous buck. I eased my bow into a comfortable position and turned my left shoulder to the approaching buck. He took his time getting to me. As he got near he stopped and looked over his right shoulder at his back trail. I looked down the trail but saw nothing. At 50 yards he stopped and looked back again. Now I saw movement. As the buck watched his back trail I eased up my binoculars. Standing on the same trail 150 yards away was a tremendous buck. Bow hunters dream of seeing a buck of this magnitude and he was approaching my stand location. His rack dwarfed the first buck now walking past my stand. I looked at the buck below me. He had a nice 8-point rack about the size of the buck I shot the day before. There was no doubt I would let this buck walk. Even if I hadn’t seen the bigger racked buck following, I had pre-determined to move my standards up a notch, wanting to fill my last tag with a bigger trophy. I watched every step of the smaller buck. I picked perfect shooting opportunities as this bucked passed. I could feel buck fever setting in. I felt a slight tremble. I watched this trophy buck approach and was in awe of his spread and tine length. He walked on the same trail, as did the now out of sight 8-pointer. I went over and over in my mind the shot opportunities the first buck had given me. This buck was now there. I calmed myself and talked myself through a smooth, quiet draw and released. The arrow zipped through the ribs at the exact spot I aimed. The deer bolted and ran straight down hill. At 75 yards he stopped. He stood motionless and then started to sway. His legs buckled and I watched one of Gods greatest creations lie motionless on the forest floor. I sat down and the trembling kicked in again. I scrambled for my binoculars and found the motionless buck. I looked at what rack I could see from this distance. I knew he was a good buck. But I have shot good bucks before that didn’t look as good on the ground as they did when they walked past my stand. I couldn’t wait. I had to get down and get a close up look. I was confident of my hit and knew the buck was dead. I lowered my bow and scrambled down the ladder. I retrieved my bow and walked to the white underbelly fur that gave the bucks’ position away. This buck was all I thought he was. I stood in awe looking at his rack and thanked God for this great day. I wanted pictures in the woods of this trophy and knew I would need help dragging him to my truck. It was only an hour after sunup and I figured JR would still be in bed. I headed over to Robs. JR was up. He was about to get his deer down for picture taking. My grin gave it away as I approached JR. We didn’t have to exchange words. He just looked at me and said, “All Right!” “Will you take some pictures and help me drag him out?” I asked. I already knew the answer and we headed for my truck. After the picture session in the woods and a tiring drag to the truck
I wanted pictures of JR’s and my buck together.
I packed my gear and two bucks in my truck and drove home. What a great five days I had with Mike and Rob.
Bill is an exceptional hunter. He has more trophies under his belt than most archery clubs. Hearing the excitement is his voice I knew this was an exceptional buck. Exceptional only begins to describe the magnitude of Bill’s trophy non-typical buck. Bill had connected with a beast that makes Illinois’ big bucks look small. After putting a tape to the antlers, Bill’s gross score was 214. “And listen to this!” Bill said, with his voice still ringing with excitement. I shot it out of the stand JR killed his buck out of last night!” What an exciting 24 hours. I applied for shotgun tags the following year. Mike wanted me to guide some non-resident gun hunters. I put my hunters in place and headed across an open grass field to a stand just inside the woods. I eased up a steep bank and slipped into my treestand at the end of a heavy thicket. I had bow hunted from this stand on Monday. Today was Friday, first day of shotgun season. I was very excited about shotgun hunting in the “Golden Triangle.” I know the potential of this area from the numerous bucks I see during bow season. Had I chosen the right place to hunt today? It was 11 am when the two bucks approached. I slipped that bottle of water in my pocket, balanced my flattened ham sandwich on my knee and slowly raised my shotgun to shooting position. I made my movement slow and deliberate. Not only because my sandwich was not where I wanted it, but I didn’t want to make any unnecessary noise or sudden movement that might spook either deer. I put the crosshairs behind the shoulder and center of body on the broadside buck in front of me. I didn’t want to look back at the rack. I already judged this buck to be the better of the two. Would my shotgun fire OK? Is this the best spot to aim for a good clean kill? Am I really here ready to pull the trigger on what would be my best buck of all time? The shot thundered and the buck bolted away faster than I have ever seen a deer run. My heart pounded, my knees quivered with buck fever, the deer disappeared from sight. I sat and tried to think the shot through. Were my crosshairs right on? Did I "squeeze" the trigger? Where is my sandwich? The walk up the ravine was a mixed bag of emotions. Could I be this blessed and finally get the trophy that has been a life’s quest. Was the hit good? Did the deer react like the other deer I’ve shot in the past? Is that a deer lying over there? Indeed it was. I walked over to my buck. Unlike some deer I have killed, as I approached this deer his antlers seemed to grow. They were getting bigger with every step. I found myself standing over a massive non-typical buck with 17 scoreable
points. The spread was wide and the heavy mass on both main beams was awesome.
This rack is beautiful. Thank you Lord. I am truly blessed. Life is good.
How was this year? I filled my two buck tags. I shot a fine 9 point
at Rob's with my new PSE Scorpion.
Good Hunting, Fred
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Hunting
big game takes a lot of patience. It was the first day of Illinois shotgun
deer season. I sat in my tree stand and stared at the same trees and rocks
for hours.
But
it wasn’t over yet! That night the phone rang. It was Bill. “Fred, I just
killed the biggest buck of my life!” Bill blurted out.
