Many years ago legendary bowyer and hunter Dick Robertson wrote an article focused on defining what constitutes traditional bow hunting. No doubt the article ruffled some feathers in the traditional bow hunting community. I was relatively new to traditional bow hunting so I did not understand the importance of the topic and frankly didn’t care. I was shooting a 1973 Bear Grizzly with cedar shafts tipped with Zwickey broadheads and aiming in a way of what I thought was instinctive. I was clear, or so I thought, from being kicked out of the fraternity. From time to time other writers, including myself, have written about the use of various modern accoutrements that really don’t seem traditional, yet there use doesn’t get ostracized as does the use of a compound bow. Collectively, the discussion over the last 20 years has whittled down the definition of traditional bow hunting to simply be hunting with a traditional bow and whatever else the hunter wants to do or use, as long as it is legal, is permitted. From blinds, carbon shafts and fibers, trail cameras, mechanical releases, sights, clickers, range finders, to baiting, it seems none of these tools factor in the definition of traditional bow hunting. If such is the case, fair chase, seems to be mutually exclusive to traditional bow hunting. Or, if fair chase is mutually inclusive to traditional bow hunting then those gadgets above don’t factor into what is considered fair chase. I half-heartedly care about this discussion; I’m just not sure how much I care about using materials to categorize people anymore. I’m starting to think actions speak louder and stronger than materials.

One thing I’ve learned over the last 22 years of hunting with a traditional bow is that doing so does not mean you are a hunter that hunts by fair chase principles. I’ve known traditional bow hunters that were master deer baiters in northern Wisconsin. I’ve shared camp with traditional bow hunters that walked the gray line in hunting and fishing regulations better than a tight rope walker. Further, I’ve known traditional bow hunters that knowingly and willingly violated game regulations although in their minds they were not violators. I’ve known hunters to kill antlerless deer in one county designated as buck’s only, but then use antlerless tags from an adjacent county where there were tags available. Further, group tagging deer by using another hunter’s tag was a regular occurrence. But then in a discussion around a campfire or on a tailgate, I’d listen to conversation centered on how the hunt is what’s important, being close to nature, and respect for the animal. Then, two weeks later the rifle comes out of the cabinet and they hit the woods with the orange army joining in on the slaughter. A few years ago crossbows became legal to use in Wisconsin during the archery season by any hunter, no age or disability requirements. Bow hunters, compound and traditional alike, chucked their bows into the closet and headed to Cabela’s to get the sure thing. Sadly, in Wisconsin there are now more deer killed with a crossbow than all other bows combined.

When you start to think about it, layer by layer, what’s more important, the type of bow you shoot or hunting under the code of fair chase?

Those close to me know very well that I treat my hunting buddies like kings. In my camp, affectionately known as K Camp, my buddies are number one. They get the best stands, their hunt is more important than mine, and it’s that way 365 days in the year. I’ve been blessed to share camp with Mike and Bob Graue for nearly 20 years. Together, I carried my recurve and they carried their compounds, from Montana to Kansas to Wisconsin we’ve shared camp and created special memories. We may not shoot similar looking bows, but we share a similar passion for the animal and fair chase.

The author’s friend Mike broke the ice harvesting a chunky 6 point with a snuffer broadhead.

Mike can shoot the heads of tacks on the range at 40 yards, but will not use a range finder while hunting because he believes it violates fair chase ethics. So, Mike limits his shots at animals to the ranges that are easy to judge, 30 yards is his maximum because he wants that arrow to be perfect when released at an animal. Similar with trail cameras, he won’t use them because they steal secrets of the woods that should be learned through woodsmanship and hard work. Mike shoots Magnus Snuffers, a traditional broadhead, because the design is more lethal. Mike measures arrow penetration by how far the arrow makes it into the dirt after passing through the animal. Mike’s dedication to fair chase spills over into waterfowl hunting and fishing, where the roost is a special place that will not be hunted. No jump shooting either, only decoys in a feed or on water at a drinking spot. He also sets his own minimum length limit on walleyes on Devils Lake, North Dakota.

Mike and Bob are not brothers, like you may have assumed, they are father and son. Bob just turned 83 years old and is still shooting a compound bow. Bob hunts exclusively for the meat. When the first mature deer comes by, Bob will be at full draw. In his first trip to Kansas several years ago, he wrapped his tag around a spike horn an hour into the week long hunt. He was a happy camp chef in the Land of Giants for the week and howled with the song dogs every night. It should not surprise you that Bob’s favorite outdoor show is Meateater. No range finders or trail cameras for Bob. Bob despises hunters that name bucks because it makes it appear as if the buck is the hunter’s animal, when wildlife is in the public trust. There is no doubt; Bob will go to his grave before ever hunting with a crossbow.

For the last five years, we’ve spent the first week of November together at K Camp in southwestern Wisconsin at my home. I have made it an annual goal of mine to provide Bob with the best hunt possible because his hunts remaining are obviously numbered. I plant food plots on K Camp with Bob’s hunt in mind and set up stands specific to his condition. I treat K Camp as a sanctuary and do everything I can to make sure the deer are not pressured for him. A few years ago, Bob was able to climb trees and get into my stands. The year he turned 81, Bob shot two does in two days and had a chance at a giant non-typical. But last year was tough on Bob. He got the flu plus very cold conditions made it difficult for him to get out in the woods that week. He did, however, harvest a big ol’ doe on the western prairie of Minnesota.

This year at K Camp was sure to provide more challenges. Covid-19 was the obvious hurdle. With testing and social distancing requirements met, we overcame the challenge. However, on August 19th Bob went in for surgery to get his hip replaced. The surgery was a success, but Bob needed time to heal and recover. I concluded that Bob would not be climbing trees any longer, so I built a large platform six feet off the ground and put a blind on top with a heater. I positioned the stand between my corn and bean fields. During September and October the deer routinely passed by the stand during legal shooting hours. Further, by the middle of October, scrapes lined the perimeter of the fields and the deer trails were beaten down to mud. The stage was set for Bob’s hunt.

Unfortunately when Mike departed from North Dakota to pick up Bob in Minneapolis, he brought the wind that plagues the northern prairie. The forecast on the first day of the 2020 hunt on K Camp called for sustained 25 mph wind with 35-40 mph gusts. Mike and I elected to hunt a special spot where we paddled across a river to a bench covered in wild apple and hawthorn trees. It’s a tangled mess, down deep in a river valley at the base of a large bluff. Last year on day one we saw 16 bucks cruising and looking for does. Bob on the other hand, was going to head out on K Camp and crawl into the blind.

Given how wind shuts down deer movement on this landscape, I was hoping that Bob wouldn’t burn himself out by sitting all day. But, it was November 1st and anything can happen now. Bob toughed it out all day, but saw nothing. Mike and I didn’t see a deer either. On day two the conditions were similar as were the results. Bob was a little wore down after sitting for 24 hours in two days without seeing a deer. Fortunately on day three the wind was forecasted to be calm, so spirits were high. After all it was November 3rd and Mike notched his tag on a chunky 6-point the evening prior and also saw three other bucks cruising as the wind finally settled.

After sleeping in, Bob was ready to go the third evening. In the early afternoon, he made the short walk out to the stand. As I watched him hobble down my field road and up the grassy waterway, I savored the moment knowing that this could be his last hunt. Meanwhile, Mike and I took a drive to check out the waterfowl that stopped to rest on the Mississippi River while on their migration from the northern prairie.

Bob and the author with a special buck taken a few weeks before Bob’s 83rd birthday.

An hour later, Mike and I pulled into the driveway and parked. Just then, Bob opened the garage door. Mike and I looked at each other and wondered what was going on. With a smile I’ll never forget Bob said, “I just hit a buck!” Instantly I got nervous and excited for all I wanted in this season was for Bob to punch a tag. After some discussion on arrow placement we agreed to follow the blood 30 yards through the corn to the edge of the woods to determine what kind of blood and how much there was. Once we got to the woods we would make a decision to continue or wait depending on what we found. When Mike and Bob got to the edge of the woods, Mike looked into the woods and noticed a white plastic jug up 20 yards into the brush. Then, he thought to himself there is no way Kirby is going to have garbage in his woods. Then, he took a second look. When he did, he made out a hoof connected to the “jug” and the celebration began on K Camp! It was Bob’s first buck in a dozen years and a trophy to him and everyone at K Camp.

The camp was two for two with a day remaining. Earlier in the fall I filled my Wisconsin buck tag, but had a coveted Iowa tag in my pocket. After the low pressure system passed and the wrap around northwest wind rocked us, gentle southwest winds were forecasted for the next week. Unfortunately, I needed a wind that had some east in it to hunt the stand I had in mind. But those conditions were not going to happen, so I decided to hunt the area anyway and be mobile. In the darkness, I climbed the steep ridge to the top. I made it to a favorite tree of mine where I harvested a dandy 12-point many years ago. The wind was blowing from the tree to the funnel along the fence that wrapped around the large, picked corn field. That tree wasn’t going to work, so I slowly worked my way past the corner of the fenceline. Soon, I found a tree where my scent would blow out across the corn field, but I would be downwind of the travel corridor in the woods. After I placed the first climbing stick in place, I glanced out into the corn and spotted a doe 150 yards away with her head down and feeding. Carefully, I shimmied up the tree as another doe appeared. I placed my stand, pulled up my bow, and watched the deer intently.

While I climbed the tree, I noticed the deer were very interested in something along the field edge to the south maybe 300 yards away. I couldn’t see what they could see, but they were obviously curious. I made a rattling sequence as the sun peeked up over the horizon and the does fed over a knoll in the field. The first rattling sequence of the morning in early November in Iowa is usually a guarantee for some kind of action. But after the third rattling sequence, an hour after the first, and nothing, I was starting to think this wasn’t going to be my morning. But then I caught some movement to the south along the edge of the field. A doe and then another doe fed into view and were moving in my direction. Then, a pure white rack popped over the rise. He nudged them and tried to herd them into the woods away from my location. But the does tolerated him and kept feeding toward me. When the group was 60 yards away, the buck perked his head up and laid his ears backward and marched along the field edge to investigate who had been fighting earlier. He left his does entirely. The only question was would he step into the woods and pass in front of me upwind or stay on the field edge and get downwind of me? He chose the latter and by the time I tiptoed around the stand from left to the right side, he was broadside and his body language told me he caught a little human scent. I drew, anchored, and watched the arrow zip through his boiler room without a reaction. He walked to the edge of the field and crashed into the fence, expiring in mere seconds.

Our non-traditional hunting camp is actually quite traditional in terms of the definition of hunting. We shoot does, big bucks, little bucks and genuinely love each other and the animal to the core. I’m not here to tell anyone what to do or what to believe, I’m just here telling you a story, a life story, of how two hunters who carry compounds are some of the purest hunters I know and greatest people I know. My life would be much less without them in it.

Equipment: The author used a #49 RER Arroyo and a cedar shaft tipped with 125 grain Magnus Snuffer broadheads.