In a season, on the two or three properties that I will typically access, I'll make many such junkets into my hunting locations with the aforementioned approaches. I widely rotate my intrusions into the areas, rarely ever going into a location more than once every week or two. This low-impact approach allows me to stay savvy about the country and its deer, yet I don't educate, alter and/or relocate my quarry. I always have the element of surprise in my favor.

Everything about this approach is a win-win situation. Remember, we've already admitted that mature bucks are going to outsmart our best laid plans 99-percent of the time, so it should go without saying that any attempt to keep them guessing would have to be a real helpmate. Also, don't kid yourself about the does. They are incredibly sharp also. Be sure that you do not hunt a particular spot often enough to cause the does to pattern you in any way. It's a tough egg you're looking to crack so don't get tunnel vision and fall into a rut. Keep an open mind to all possibilities. Absorb all information and make good decisions. Come at them from a new angle every time. This way every hunt you make will be a brand new gig.

First Place Finish
The first trophy whitetail that I ever took with my bow came as a result of having set in that particular stand for the first time. It also just so happens that the last trophy I harvested--just this past autumn--shared the very same coincidence. Let me tell you about my most recent "big boy."

I'd gained permission to bowhunt this particular piece of prairie habitat during the off-season. Due to the fact that someone else was hunting the same area, I made the decision to lay off the area until they had filled their tag. I've never wished another hunter quicker success than I did this fellow. Sure enough, in late October, the other hunter filled his tag and left. Immediately, I made a low-key scout of the area, placing two stands in likely areas. I had a very good feeling about one of the locations and I planned on leaving the spot alone until peak rut--then I'd play my hand.

By the evening of November 17, more than three weeks had passed since I'd been in the area. Slipping into my previously prepared stand, I climbed aboard, feeling very good about the unobtrusive route I'd used to access the stand. There's something good about setting in a spot for the first time; the anticipation of everything new and fresh. It was time for a plan to come together, and I hoped that this "first date" would be one to remember.

As the evening shadows lengthened, nary an animal stirred. Just as I was about to think that I'd been stood up, I caught movement far out on the prairie. Peering through my optics, a large set of antlers materialized. Bobbing steadily through the tall bluestem, the object of my desires was clearly headed my way. With plenty of time before the big fellow would be near, I grabbed my rangefinder and zapped a couple of objects at distances that strained my natural abilities. I wanted to be ready for anything.