Reader-Submitted Story
Another Season, Another Tag on the Tree
by Brian Gault of Bezanson, Alberta
Some may judge me for saying it, but I am a trophy whitetail hunter at heart. My love of hunting trophy whitetails started as a kid. In 1993, at the age of 9, while hunting with my father, he harvested a trophy whitetail on November 27. It was one of those moments you never forget.
We were driving along on our last day of the season thinking another season has come and gone, when we intercept this deer wanting to cross our trail. When you see him, you instantly recognize this is no normal buck—this is one of those rarely ever seen kind of bucks. He sees us as soon as we see him and he knows he is in a vulnerable position, but whatever possessed him to expose himself that morning changed my hunting motives forever. That day I became a trophy buck hunter.
That’s not to say I don’t also carry around a moose or elk tag at times, in hopes of improving my odds of harvesting game while hunting whitetails. But I would be lying if I told you I actively sought out the moose or elk to fill those tags, because I am always in search of whitetails and nothing else.
Every year, prior to the whitetail season, it’s my goal to show my sons (I have four of them) all the different hunting opportunities I have been lucky enough to experience. This year, hunting season kicked off with a goose hunt in early September with my father, the man the boys call “Grandpa”. We are very lucky because Grandpa does most of the work. He scouts the birds for days, isolates the few best options, and then once convinced there is a good hunt, he seeks permission from the landowners. Once all that heavy lifting is done, we travel out to join him for a final scouting trip the evening before the morning hunt.
Three of my sons joined this year and for the first time my oldest son, Tyler (13 years old), joined in the shooting. He had a blast (pun intended), as did his brothers, father, and grandfather. At the end of it, we harvested 15 geese. Had our shooting been sharper we could have got our limit, but nonetheless we had a great time.
During the season we always try to find time to go grouse hunting. This year my two oldest sons did the shooting. A new experience for my second son, Brady (12 years old). It just so happens our best grouse hunting area is also a favourite whitetail spot. So, while walking down the oil field roads looking for grouse, I am also on the lookout for signs that the whitetails are still active in the area. Call it a secondary benefit of the trip. The primary benefit is watching the boys sneak up on grouse, whispering and bickering back and forth about who gets the first shot. They both use small gauge shotguns handed down from Grandpa, who has collected them over the years from his own father and uncles. These are the same guns I used when I was a kid. All in all, it’s always well worth the time.
I live in northern Alberta where the big game season starts in September. But my season never starts before November 1 (when the whitetail season opens) and doesn’t usually get serious until Remembrance Day, when the rut typically gains steam. I never get out as much as I would like to, but I always go at least once a week to try my luck at getting that buck. My day trips usually lead me to the same spot, deep in the woods southeast of where I live. This year, the weather was warm, with very little snow and the deer movement was slow too. I did see a few whitetail bucks; all young ones though. I watched them all walk away with fingers crossed that I might see them again one day.
My hunting season always concludes with a four or five day hunting trip with my best friend from back home. For this trip, we go all out. Everything goes in the truck—quads, firewood, food, tent, stove, sleeping bag, cot and, very importantly, beer. We meet in the same area my father killed that buck back in ‘93. We set up our canvas tent, stove and all the necessary gear to survive a late November tent hunt. Some years this hunt can be a real mental and physical challenge with heavy snow and cold weather for the entire trip. But somehow those years have also been our most successful. Like exercise, there seems to be a relationship between the amount of suffering one is willing to endure and the rewards at the end.
This year, much like my earlier season deer hunts, the weather was warm and there was no snow. Apparently, we didn’t suffer enough because the animal movement was slow and despite hunting hard for five days, we left emptyhanded with all our tags unused. But we left with no regrets, another year of memories, and a strong desire to do it all over next year.
It’s Christmas season as I write this. We recently returned from our last hunt of the year—a hunt for the perfect Christmas tree. It never takes long to harvest our Christmas tree. The supply is ample. Once home, we stand, water, and decorate our tree. When the decorating is all said and done, my final step of the hunting season arrives. I go to my hunting pack, pull out my whitetail tag, peel off the back, fold it over the wire, and hang it on the Christmas tree. While hanging it I remind myself, like so many years past, that my goal of harvesting a trophy whitetail is hard and won’t happen often. But at the same time, I reflect on the memories of the hunting season past and with a twinkle in my eye, begin hoping that next year the tag won’t hang on the tree. !
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