The anticipation of the approaching archery season is better than the night before Christmas. I’ve been scouting since April, my stands are hung (hopefully in the right places) and my food plots are planted. My cameras have been getting pictures of countless numbers of deer, some of which would look great on my wall. The long hard hours through the summer heat are behind me, now it's time for freezing, lightless mornings. As I prepare for another season, I can't help but recall past hunts and the excitement that fills me when I see antlers moving through the brush.
I try to combine all of the past successes and failures in hopes of having a fool proof plan to fill my tag this season. In the back of my mind I know that none of these experiences matter. Whitetails are unpredictable. Just when you think you have them figured out, they do something completely off the wall, and to me, that's the fun of it. When sitting in your stand, you really never know what might unfold. You could go from seeing nothing to having a monster on the ground in a matter of seconds. This sheer possibility is what gets me out of bed at 4 AM when it is drizzling and the wind is blowing 20 miles per hour. It's all because you never know what could happen next.