Strategies and well-executed game plans have been stressed to the point that many lose track of the pure adrenaline rush and spontaneous enjoyment of hunting. While some whitetail hunters religiously abide by the same strategies year to year, I tend to hunt more aggressively than needed, always dreaming and hoping for a little luck.

We all hear the same advice from experts, biologists, behaviorists and wildlife managers regarding the rut; stating which days are best to be in the field and what weather conditions are ideal, and when to call and when not to call. But the rut isn't an etched-in-stone phase that starts on a single date and ends on another. None of us should be surprised if peak rutting activity kicks up or lags a week or two outside of the most recent expert prediction.

Weather can be crucial to the game plan. When combined with the moon's lunar effect (the brightest night light in the world), archery hunters face two environmental issues that can't be controlled. Strategies that can be controlled include instinctive hunting skills, savvy learned from previous hunts; tracking, recognizing sign, weather predicting (yes, people are quite good at it), sharp tuned ears and scope-like eyes. Weather conditions can make or break a hunt, but shouldn't dictate hunting plans. Sometimes a plan simply needs to be altered to achieve success.

This past season, my hunting plans were altered in a way that went against all expert advice. Though it was a great time of year, the weather conditions were not cooperating and I was forced to go against the grain.

The Hunt
In the summer of 2005 I made plans to hunt in Rock Island County, Illinois. As a non-resident betting all of his chips on November 7-11, I could only hope the Illinois rut would bring the intensity of corn-fed bucks knocking antlers with subordinates and chasing the girls throughout midmornings.

My hosts for the hunt were Tom and Beau Carlson, proprietors of a bowhunting-only operation running four weeks until the December muzzleloader opening.

Checking the weather reports by Internet the preceding weeks and one last time before the day of departure, I only hoped there were inconsistencies in the forecast. Warmer than average temperatures and persistent winds were predicted each day on the five-day Internet calendar, with reports of up to 50 mph winds on Wednesday. A waxing or growing quarter moon would be in effect--something not entirely great for counting on consistent early morning and evening deer movement.

Despite these omens, I still had prime dates and five full days to hunt, I wasn't concerned. It was time to hunt hard.

Reality Check
The first night in camp, Tom Carlson's straightforward words rang loud and clear through the room of anxious hunters, "You're not here to necessarily see a lot of deer and bucks every day, you're here to get a chance at a buck of a lifetime. Be patient and trust that we'll put you on a trophy." His words practically sent shivers down my spine. There was no doubt I was going to put my trust in these guys in hopes of an enjoyable week and ultimately the opportunity to put my hands on some white gold.

The first morning found me perched 15 feet up a ladder stand in a row of timber skirting a cut cornfield well before sunrise broke. Content and happy to be hunting, with anxious thoughts of deer approaching one by one, I settled in for a comfortable wait. As the sun rose, trails to the glistening creek below could easily be seen. It appeared to be a good location. Minutes later, a flash of hide caught my attention in front. It was a meaty doe headed toward the ridge on the right side of my stand. The closer she came, the more I thought about shooting, but the fear of spooking a nearby buck concerned me. I let her pass and the rest of the morning passed uneventfully.