Deer hunting is full of old wives’ tales, myths and legends lasting generations with no real basis in fact. And while, like most old guys, I spend a fair amount of time living in my own little fantasy world, when it comes to punching deer tags, there’s no doubt a reality check is often required.
One myth is that gnarly-antlered older bucks that have become vampires, only occasionally seen on midnight scouting camera pictures and never showing themselves during daylight hours, suddenly forget all about their survival instincts during the rut and commit literal suicide by running headlong into the free-fire zone created by camoclad archers and orange-jacketed riflemen when their testosterone levels are elevated. No doubt, that happens — once in a blue moon. But if you base your rut-hunting strategy around this plan, you could spend decades eating tag soup. The truth is, hunting the rut can be a time of real frustration, especially for those who forget about
