Dan Deer Hunts ?

[Swampthing]

I was wondering Dan if you have any compilation of your other hunts,like "THE BIG 8" in the articles section ? It would be awesome to hear the stories and pics of some of them .

[dan]

I have a lot of articles about my adventures... They were supposed to all be posted in the article section but some how the web designer did not get them there. I am trying to get Dan Jr to work on finding a way of storing them all on this site. Meanwhile, if you would like to hear an article / story about a specific buck, let me know and I will post it for you.

[Sam Ubl]

I think we'd all like to see a picture of the buck wall. Let's see all your mounts on the side of the barn. Once we can look them all over, we'll start asking for stories

[Swampthing]

I would like to hear the story about the 300# plus slob,and the non-typical you shot in his bed .

[dan]

The 400 Pound SE Wisconsin SLOB: by Dan Infalt

It was a full two hours before dark, when I heard the 1st deer coming through the cattails. Slurp, Slurp, his feet made the unmistakable rhythmic, sound only feet getting pulled out of muck can make. It kept getting closer, till finally a 140 class ten pointer emerged into a creek that separated me from the bedding area. The buck crossed the creek right where I expected, the turned and headed right at me. I was a mere 6 feet of the ground in a natural blind formed near the union of several huge limbs in a gigantic willow tree that sat alone in an otherwise treeless environment, I got nervous, as I looked directly into the eyes of the beast. It felt like he was starring me down even though I new he did not know I was there. Finally at 7 yards from the tree he turned with the trail and quartered away He stopped at 10 yards to work over a primary scrape offering me a perfect shot. As he walked away, I questioned my decision to let him go.

Just a few days earlier I had seen a much larger buck cross the creek on the same trail, and work this same scrape, as a matter of fact I had seen him several times since the summer. I could not put my tag on a lesser buck, until I gave this buck a worthwhile effort. I could still see the ten pointer working over some unlucky dogwood bushes in the distance, when a ripple in the creek caught my eye. The buck had slipped in while all my attention was focused on the 10 pointer. I felt foolish for momentarily loosing my concentration enough to lose the ability to hear this one coming. It only took a glance to recognize the buck that had filled my thoughts and dreams since the 1st day I seen him. His massive 9 point rack was dwarfed by the biggest body I had ever seen. He crossed the creek and turned facing me, my nerves and emotions were going nuts. If it was hard to look the ten pointer in the eyes, this was nearly impossible. I kept focused as the slob buck hit spot 7 yards away where the trail finally turned away from me. He stopped facing me head on, put his head down, smelled the ground, then raised his head starring right at me. I wondered if he was hearing my heavy heart beat, but after a short look he just flicked his tail and followed the trail, When he started working over the same licking branch the earlier ten point had worked, I eased my bow back. The arrow was perfect. The buck jumped, looked around then just fell over with a loud thud, and a little kicking.


"it should be said that I believe a hunter seeking a mature whitetail should spend far more time scouting than hunting."
The 162" score did not do justice for this monarch. His main beams were nearly 30 inches long, and carried there mass all the way to the blunt tips. His tines had circumferences as big around as most bucks bases. You can't just throw a score onto a buck like that. When Lee Gatzke and I, finally got the monster out of the swamp and back to camp, we were amazed when it bottomed out my 300 pound weight scale after field dressing. This buck had to be near 400 pounds alive. I have crossed paths with a few unlucky bucks that scored higher, but this would be my best buck, the one that meant the most.

The moral of this story is not just to brag about my favorite buck, Instead, I would like to share the scouting that was involved in getting this buck. First of all, it should be said that I believe a hunter seeking a mature whitetail should spend far more time scouting than hunting.

Scouting for me, never really starts or stops, its kind of always going on. Its funny how your ears tune into anything hunting related or having to do with the where abouts of the next monarch. Any way, after hearing about some great bucks some people had seen in a certain area, and seeing some huge sheds another guy had found, I decided to check out this new property. It started at home, looking over plat books to determine land borders and owners, and viewing aerial photo's to find starter points. I started driving around this particular swamp, looking at the trails and tracks in the snow, and also looking at how the local hunters accessed there hunting spots. I walked the land completely, starting in January and completing in march. I looked for the food sources, buck bedding areas, doe bedding areas, travel funnels, rubs, significant tracks, etc. I learned how the bucks traveled this land. However, even more importantly, I learned how other hunters hunted the land, I found the trees they hunted out of, the permanent stands, there parking spots and travel routes to and from there stands . This was then mapped out, and when I compared the travel and bedding of the bucks to the travel hunting of the hunters, I was then able to find overlooked areas where big bucks could find some peace on this property. As usual, one of the best spots was right next to the road only a few hundred yards from the main parking spot. The bucks were bedding in cattails mixed with small trees and dogwood bushes on the other side of a creek within a stones throw from the road. All the hunters walked down the path a way then some turned off and set up, some went to the middle of the swamp and set up. But nobody, walked along the road and set up near the parking lot. It was one of the few spots these bucks had not felt human invasion. The best part was that if I parked my truck just right, I could see into the staging area, and view the bucks as they staged after leaving there bedding area just before dark. Of course this had to be done covertly. I would make believe I was reading the paper and never wear hunting cloths or have hunting stickers on my truck as I did not want to tip off other hunters to where the bucks are. Occasionally all summer I would glass the bucks seeing all the bucks that came out of the bedding area and how they moved around the staging area. At the same time I was watching other bucks in other areas as back ups. I needed a good wind in order to hunt this spot, and once the season came, it was a waiting and watching game until everything was perfect. By watching deer like this, I had learned that a good wind is not necessarily a wind blowing away from the bedding area. This is because the deer would naturally come out much later, or use a totally different exit when the wind was not in there favor, but with the proper cross wind, that was close to being in there favor, I could slip in and get the job done. Moral of the story. 300 hours scouting 1 hour hunting. There are no magic gizmo's, no pixie dust, no easy way to consistently produce huge bucks. You just have to do the work. You have to do the scouting

[dan]

Staring an Obsession in the Eyes: by Dan Infalt

I was out shining all the different properties that I hunt hoping to locate a new Slob buck or two. It was 2:30 AM, on a sleepless mid-July night, I lit up one of my favorite fields that occasionally produced some nice bucks. I was shocked to have a monster buck standing 20 feet from the truck! One glance was all it took. This buck was what I was looking for.

The Rack was massive and had forked tines. His face was gray. I was in awe. This was truly a Monarch of the forest.

I could not get this beast off of my mind. Still to this day, that image is burned in my memory. I concentrated my shining efforts around the farm and swamp, this buck called home. I kept track of him, and finally started to develop a pattern. I took particular interest in where he was coming from in the evenings, and where he was going in the morning. Finally, I figured out where this buck was bedding. It was a small woodlot right next to the road, that everyone ( including me ) just seemed to overlook. A walk around the woodlot, at a safe distance, revealed the bucks preferred trails to and from the woodlot bedding area. From a distance, I studied the trees and picked out a great tree, in a location I felt I could slip my Lone Wolf stand into quietly when the moment of truth finally arrived.

While out in the muddy fields, I made sure I took the time to closely study and memorize the huge bucks tracks. His right front foot, had a shorter outside toe, and his inside toe hooked inward. This track did not produce the wide splaying you generally notice from a buck of this size, however, his left side did splay widely, and toes were uniform with a slight inward hook. I felt confident, I could identify this track, if the need ever arose.

After that walk, I stayed out of the woods on that property, fairly confident in my set up, I waited for the season to open. I also slowed down on the shining, not wanting to spook the buck, or inadvertantly educate another hunter to his whereabouts. I only shined him a couple times a week to make sure he maintained his travel route.

About two weeks before the opening of bow season, the farmer who owned the property, gave hunting permission to two of his workers. They had noticed the big tracks while working in the fields, and followed them back to the woodlot where the buck had been bedding. They must have liked what they saw, because they built permanent wooden stands in several locations within the 1 acre woodlot.

Needless to say, the buck disappeared.

Teased by his scattered tracks, I spent the entire deer season trying to relocate this buck. The only sightings were a couple brief teasers with the spotlight during the rut. I passed on some awesome bucks, most guys would gladly shoot, and waited for my chance. Finally, I decided to take a 130 class ten point the last day of the bow season.

The season had come and gone, without me getting a chance at the buck. I did not lose focus, this just made me even more determined. As soon as the season was over, I was on a mission. January and February found me following the buck's tracks all over the farm, seeing exactly how this one deer preferred to traverse each section of the property. I paid no attention to any of the other deer. Only the track I had learned so well. I followed it to and from the different bedding sites, looking at how he entered the bedding area, and how he left. I kept track of the movements, and beds on a map. One of his frequent beds was quite impressive, it was right in the middle of a very open grassy marsh. It was under a fallen limb of a huge willow tree, there was a river on the back side of it. blocking any way of sneaking in from downwind. The West side of the bed had the major wind in his favor, not to mention the open terrain made it near impossible to come in from that way. The tracks entered and exited from several directions, but rarely within range of one of the few trees. When I actually walked right up to the bed that was located on some higher dirt near the base of the tree, I was pleasantly surprised to notice one of the bucks shed antlers sitting right along side of this bed.

After learning the bedding areas and travel routes, I made sure to leave them alone after February. During the summer I only observed the buck a few times while shining, and never seen him at all while glassing. I did see a few other bucks with trophy class racks, but by this time I was obsessed with this one buck.

When the fall finally came, I chose my stand sites with careful consideration. I did not want to bump this buck or, educate him. I set up close to the bedding areas that I had found early in the year. I tried to only hunt a spot once or twice, so I would not educate the buck as to avoid certain areas.

It took until mid October before I was rewarded with seeing the Monarch. He had grown. His rack would now gross score in the 180's. He was using the bed under the willow tree, where I had picked up his shed antler while scouting.

He would not exit the willow tree until about 10 minutes of light remained. He would arrive at the bed well before light. Only the sound of footsteps in the marsh water would give him away. He was traveling a treeless, ever changing, route to a vegetable field and feeding there most of the night. He disappeared for a while during the rut, and I was unable to locate him, but resumed his same old pattern just before Wisconsin's 9 day gun season.

When the gun season arrived, I hunted North and south of the willow tree bed, hoping he would wander into range, but he always headed west into the wind.

I was really hoping to catch a break and get a wind direction that would give me an advantage. I had a plan.

Thanksgiving morning I awoke to an East wind. Its amazing how Wives have such a hard time understanding how an East wind can end all plans of a family Thanksgiving! Well, I made the long hard walk past her with my shotgun and orange vest, and I was headed for the marsh.

I eased up to the barbed wire fence 100 yards West of his bed. The fence divided the marsh from the field where the buck had been feeding. I remember how it quiet it was. Any noise at all, and my hunt for that buck would probably be over for the rest of the season. I put the shotgun on my back and wrapped two bungee cords around my self and the shotgun tightly hooking them underneath me, to hold the gun in position.

I slid under the fence and into the ice cold water. It was only a few inches deep, but it was extremely cold, and quickly soaked my clothes. I had to keep a very low profile due to the lack of cover. I had to move incredibly slow, so as to not move the grass and cattails in an unnatural way within view of the buck. Something should also be said about the difficulty in moving through muck and water without making noise.

I started to second guess my plan, would it be possible to slip into range and get the gun off of my back and shoot before the buck disappeared? Maybe, the buck didn't even bed there today? Maybe he moved bed locations when the wind changed? I tried to keep mentally focused on the plan, but the stinging cold water was getting to me.


Once I got within 50 yards of the bed, I had to belly crawl. This section was just canary grass and if I stuck up at all, he would surely see me from his slightly elevated bed. I headed strait for a small clump of brush 10 yards from the bed, keeping it in line with his path of vision. As I entered the shadow of the willow tree, I met an unpleasant surprise. The sun had not yet had its chance to melt a thin layer of ice that covered the water I was crawling through.

This really slowed me down. I contemplated, trying to get the gun off right there and jumping up, hoping to get my chance. It didn't take much thought, I knew I had to make it to the clump of cover. I told myself to follow the plan.

I was able to slowly push the ice down, quietly breaking off pieces and inching forward, but the cold water was really getting to me.

Finally I reached the brush. I slowly unhooked the bungeesand rolled the gun slowly off my side. I got the gun into my hands and slid my knees under my chest.

I rose up with gun drawn, to an upright position standing on my knees.

I was starring right into the eyes of the beast at ten yards. He was exactly where I expected him. For a brief moment I starred in disbelief that I had actually pulled it off.

The gun sounded, and the great bucks head, dropped down. He never made it out of his bed, the same bed, where I picked up his shed antler earlier that same year. The ten yard shot could have easily been made with my bow. The 180 class buck was mine.

[PredatorTC]

Dan, do you have a story to go with that huge brow-tine buck that you shot near the end of gun season. I believe you said it was way back in the swamp.

[dan]

Dan, do you have a story to go with that huge brow-tine buck that you shot near the end of gun season. I believe you said it was way back in the swamp.

If its the buck I think your talking about, I have not yet written an article about it. I tried several times, but watching that buck grow from a 1 1/2 year old to 4 1/2 when i finally shot him makes it a lenthy story. I shot that buck once when he was 3 1/2 and lost him. I had many close calls with him before finally just going into his bedding area and shooting him. I also have sheds of that buck from each year.
When I have time I will try and get a story about that buck done.
I was interviewed last month for an article in Bowhunting world, and that buck was a major part of the conversation. So I wouldn't dought it if part of the story shows up in that mag. late summer or early fall.

[virginiashadow]

FANTASTIC stories. Man, I am going to read every one you put out Dan. They are inspirational and contain a huge amount of potential knowledge for me to absorb...awesome.

[Sam Ubl]

Yup!

[PredatorTC]

So I wouldn't dought it if part of the story shows up in that mag. late summer or early fall.

if any one sees it, gimme a holler, ill have to buy that issue.

[dan]

I think we'd all like to see a picture of the buck wall. Let's see all your mounts on the side of the barn. Once we can look them all over, we'll start asking for stories

[ttsbuck]

Thanks for the stories Dan, I learn more from your stories than I do from any other source out there. I would really like to see you write a book, with your knowledge and more importantly your ability to explain your methods such a book from you would be a hot item.

[Swampthing]

Staring an Obsession in the Eyes: by Dan Infalt

I was out shining all the different properties that I hunt hoping to locate a new Slob buck or two. It was 2:30 AM, on a sleepless mid-July night, I lit up one of my favorite fields that occasionally produced some nice bucks. I was shocked to have a monster buck standing 20 feet from the truck! One glance was all it took. This buck was what I was looking for.

The Rack was massive and had forked tines. His face was gray. I was in awe. This was truly a Monarch of the forest.

I could not get this beast off of my mind. Still to this day, that image is burned in my memory. I concentrated my shining efforts around the farm and swamp, this buck called home. I kept track of him, and finally started to develop a pattern. I took particular interest in where he was coming from in the evenings, and where he was going in the morning. Finally, I figured out where this buck was bedding. It was a small woodlot right next to the road, that everyone ( including me ) just seemed to overlook. A walk around the woodlot, at a safe distance, revealed the bucks preferred trails to and from the woodlot bedding area. From a distance, I studied the trees and picked out a great tree, in a location I felt I could slip my Lone Wolf stand into quietly when the moment of truth finally arrived.

While out in the muddy fields, I made sure I took the time to closely study and memorize the huge bucks tracks. His right front foot, had a shorter outside toe, and his inside toe hooked inward. This track did not produce the wide splaying you generally notice from a buck of this size, however, his left side did splay widely, and toes were uniform with a slight inward hook. I felt confident, I could identify this track, if the need ever arose.

After that walk, I stayed out of the woods on that property, fairly confident in my set up, I waited for the season to open. I also slowed down on the shining, not wanting to spook the buck, or inadvertantly educate another hunter to his whereabouts. I only shined him a couple times a week to make sure he maintained his travel route.

About two weeks before the opening of bow season, the farmer who owned the property, gave hunting permission to two of his workers. They had noticed the big tracks while working in the fields, and followed them back to the woodlot where the buck had been bedding. They must have liked what they saw, because they built permanent wooden stands in several locations within the 1 acre woodlot.

Needless to say, the buck disappeared.

Teased by his scattered tracks, I spent the entire deer season trying to relocate this buck. The only sightings were a couple brief teasers with the spotlight during the rut. I passed on some awesome bucks, most guys would gladly shoot, and waited for my chance. Finally, I decided to take a 130 class ten point the last day of the bow season.

The season had come and gone, without me getting a chance at the buck. I did not lose focus, this just made me even more determined. As soon as the season was over, I was on a mission. January and February found me following the buck's tracks all over the farm, seeing exactly how this one deer preferred to traverse each section of the property. I paid no attention to any of the other deer. Only the track I had learned so well. I followed it to and from the different bedding sites, looking at how he entered the bedding area, and how he left. I kept track of the movements, and beds on a map. One of his frequent beds was quite impressive, it was right in the middle of a very open grassy marsh. It was under a fallen limb of a huge willow tree, there was a river on the back side of it. blocking any way of sneaking in from downwind. The West side of the bed had the major wind in his favor, not to mention the open terrain made it near impossible to come in from that way. The tracks entered and exited from several directions, but rarely within range of one of the few trees. When I actually walked right up to the bed that was located on some higher dirt near the base of the tree, I was pleasantly surprised to notice one of the bucks shed antlers sitting right along side of this bed.

After learning the bedding areas and travel routes, I made sure to leave them alone after February. During the summer I only observed the buck a few times while shining, and never seen him at all while glassing. I did see a few other bucks with trophy class racks, but by this time I was obsessed with this one buck.

When the fall finally came, I chose my stand sites with careful consideration. I did not want to bump this buck or, educate him. I set up close to the bedding areas that I had found early in the year. I tried to only hunt a spot once or twice, so I would not educate the buck as to avoid certain areas.

It took until mid October before I was rewarded with seeing the Monarch. He had grown. His rack would now gross score in the 180's. He was using the bed under the willow tree, where I had picked up his shed antler while scouting.

He would not exit the willow tree until about 10 minutes of light remained. He would arrive at the bed well before light. Only the sound of footsteps in the marsh water would give him away. He was traveling a treeless, ever changing, route to a vegetable field and feeding there most of the night. He disappeared for a while during the rut, and I was unable to locate him, but resumed his same old pattern just before Wisconsin's 9 day gun season.

When the gun season arrived, I hunted North and south of the willow tree bed, hoping he would wander into range, but he always headed west into the wind.

I was really hoping to catch a break and get a wind direction that would give me an advantage. I had a plan.

Thanksgiving morning I awoke to an East wind. Its amazing how Wives have such a hard time understanding how an East wind can end all plans of a family Thanksgiving! Well, I made the long hard walk past her with my shotgun and orange vest, and I was headed for the marsh.

I eased up to the barbed wire fence 100 yards West of his bed. The fence divided the marsh from the field where the buck had been feeding. I remember how it quiet it was. Any noise at all, and my hunt for that buck would probably be over for the rest of the season. I put the shotgun on my back and wrapped two bungee cords around my self and the shotgun tightly hooking them underneath me, to hold the gun in position.

I slid under the fence and into the ice cold water. It was only a few inches deep, but it was extremely cold, and quickly soaked my clothes. I had to keep a very low profile due to the lack of cover. I had to move incredibly slow, so as to not move the grass and cattails in an unnatural way within view of the buck. Something should also be said about the difficulty in moving through muck and water without making noise.

I started to second guess my plan, would it be possible to slip into range and get the gun off of my back and shoot before the buck disappeared? Maybe, the buck didn't even bed there today? Maybe he moved bed locations when the wind changed? I tried to keep mentally focused on the plan, but the stinging cold water was getting to me.


Once I got within 50 yards of the bed, I had to belly crawl. This section was just canary grass and if I stuck up at all, he would surely see me from his slightly elevated bed. I headed strait for a small clump of brush 10 yards from the bed, keeping it in line with his path of vision. As I entered the shadow of the willow tree, I met an unpleasant surprise. The sun had not yet had its chance to melt a thin layer of ice that covered the water I was crawling through.

This really slowed me down. I contemplated, trying to get the gun off right there and jumping up, hoping to get my chance. It didn't take much thought, I knew I had to make it to the clump of cover. I told myself to follow the plan.

I was able to slowly push the ice down, quietly breaking off pieces and inching forward, but the cold water was really getting to me.

Finally I reached the brush. I slowly unhooked the bungeesand rolled the gun slowly off my side. I got the gun into my hands and slid my knees under my chest.

I rose up with gun drawn, to an upright position standing on my knees.

I was starring right into the eyes of the beast at ten yards. He was exactly where I expected him. For a brief moment I starred in disbelief that I had actually pulled it off.

The gun sounded, and the great bucks head, dropped down. He never made it out of his bed, the same bed, where I picked up his shed antler earlier that same year. The ten yard shot could have easily been made with my bow. The 180 class buck was mine.

This definitely is my all-time favorite deer hunt ,Thanks for the great story Dan !

[Uncle Lou]

Is that a half rack down in the lower left corner or is the pic too small for me to decipher. Whats that story?