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The farm whitetail hunt

Southwestern Ontario deer hunting on the farm with morning sits, tree stands, wet conditions, and memorable moments at camp.

"Geeeet up!” Butch’s (also known as Gary Fleet) wake-up call echoed through camp, but it was unneeded. All night, off and on, rain had hammered the steel roof of the bunkhouse, waking me periodically. Even though it was quiet now, I knew this was not going to be a typical opener for our shotgun season. The previous three weeks had seen record amounts of rain. The ground was saturated. Low-lying areas, typically only wet in spring, were offering excellent duck shooting this fall. Two things would really affect our hunt: better than half of the corn crop was still standing, and creeks and drainage ditches were running brim full. The challenges of farm country When standing corn abuts woodlot strips in southwestern Ontario, driving deer is next to impossible. Wily whitetails loop out into the corn while pushers pass, then drop back into the bush behind them. Deer also move into cornfields and live there for days on end, never leaving if water is available. This farm country is also crisscrossed with numerous drainage ditches that, when full, are deep and fast. The only way to cross them is to bridge as you go. We’ve used wad­ers on some of our past pushes, but this year even chest waders wouldn’t be enough. We’d need at least two dry days for water lev­els to drop to crossable conditions. Camp characters I rolled out of bed and strolled to the cook shack. Our hunt camp is a recreational area on a small parcel of land I own near Clinton. Just four miles from town, we have a main cabin that acts as a cooking and dining/gathering area, along with two small bunkhouses. Some of the guys in camp co-own a school bus that’s been converted for fishing trips and is moved in for the week of our deer hunt, as well. It becomes our deep-woods hunt camp, and our wives love it, since it keeps us and our mud and stink out of the house. Sing (Dave White) is my brother-in-law, and while he doesn’t hunt, he loves to get out of the city for a few days and cook for us. Bacon, eggs, pancakes, home fries, toast, and strong hot coffee are always waiting when we wake and Dave is in camp. Woofie (Rolfe Cooke), my brother, was already chowing down with Butch when I arrived, and Grandpa (Jack Carter, the

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