Hello, my name is Justin Fisketjon, and I have an addiction to chasing big, mature whitetails throughout the river bottoms of North Dakota and Montana. My passion is primarily rooted in pursuing these animals with stick and string, but holding out for the nocturnal giants that lurk about the Montana timber usually has me watching the bow season come and pass with a tag still in my pocket. After the bow season ends and the general rifle season begins, my pursuit only grows more intense as the rut is inching closer by the day. However, unfortunately for me, this also means the amount of hunting pressure increases tenfold.
This year was no different than most for me as bow season had me balancing my hunting efforts between North Dakota and Montana, and I was lucky enough to harvest a great mature public ground buck in North Dakota on September 21st that I had several years of history with. After notching my tag, my full attention was put towards my pursuit of a mature buck on the vast chunks of public ground scattered around my area in Montana.
My strategy for hunting public ground is somewhat unorthodox as I rarely ever sit the same tree twice. I bounced from tree to tree, sitting what I call observation stands all season long and I could hardly find a deer, let alone a deer worth shooting. If I did not know the potential this area possessed, staying persistent in my quest would have been extremely difficult. I hunted every single chance I could, often spending the night sleeping in the front seat of my pickup if I was going to follow an evening hunt up with a morning hunt.
Finally, on the morning of October 7th, I laid eyes on what I had only before then dreamed of in the long, uncomfortable nights spent curled up in the front seat of my pickup, a true public land giant. As I filmed him sneaking along the edge of the woods in broad daylight, I was suddenly questioning the very strategy that had helped me harvest the majority of the mature bucks I had been fortunate enough to take. This public land ghost was walking broadside 20 yards away from the tree I had sat the morning before. In my new stand, I could not do anything but capture video and marvel at the towering tines that reached skyward from his beams. Mixed emotions ran through my veins as I was second-guessing why I had moved to this tree and not stayed in that one, all the while appreciating the fact that I was finally now “in the game” with a oncein- a-lifetime kind of deer.
The chase was on, and I concentrated on the stretch of woods that I thought I might catch the buck in again. I hunted extremely hard and bounced around, trying to locate his core area, all while trying to stay out of all of the known bedding areas and slipping in and out undetected. Scent control was extremely crucial to my success, and my scent killer of choice was Pure Whitetail Scent Eliminator. I implemented my long-term strategy for crossing paths with him by making mock scrapes and freshening active scrapes with the Pure Whitetail family of fresh deer scents.
Rifle season was now upon us, and I had not seen the buck since October 7th. After seeing some chasing during the final days of October and the first two days of November, I decided to implement my “go for broke” plan. I snuck into the core bedding area and hung Pure Whitetail Flex Wicks drenched in doe urine all around and hung my lone wolf stand about 35 feet up in a mature cottonwood centered in the bedding area. As the sun faded across the sky, I had deer all around me and little bucks chasing does in all directions. I caught a glimpse of what looked to be a big buck slip across an opening about 350 yards south of me and head into the strip of woods I was hunting. I stayed calm and patient, and it only took about 25 minutes for him to finally appear off to my left, hot on the trail of a doe. I didn’t even need my binoculars in order to confirm what I had hoped. It was him! He slipped into an opening about 100 yards away and stood broadside, but there was a branch that hung down, covering part of his vitals. I had a solid rest, but I chose to wait as I only needed him to take two steps to fully expose his vitals. Time stood still, and then he burst into a full gait, heading through the brush in front of me, hot on the trail of another doe. He chased does all over under 125 yards in front of my stand, sprinting back and forth across openings where I would have been able to take a shot. Then my heart broke as the doe that had lead him to me in the first place turned and lead him back into the woods and out of sight. After hearing a gunshot at last light in the direction he had run, I was devastated.
The following morning was a disaster. I got up a little later than I wanted to and headed out on the ice and snowpacked roads. I was 15 minutes from home when I realized I had left my phone at home, and being that I utilize it not only for navigating to and from my stand in the dark but also for keeping in contact with my girlfriend, I decided to turn around and get it. My girlfriend was awake when I returned, and she informed me that I had left my phone on the counter. She suggested that since things were not starting out well I stay home and spend the day with her. However, she understood that since I had seen the buck the night before I had to go back in and pray he would work through that bedding area again. She has always been extremely supportive of me and all the time I spend outdoors.
I hit the road once again and made it to my destination almost an hour after I had wanted to be there. I practically ran through the woods to my stand and got set up just as first light was creeping through the treetops. I spotted a dark object slipping through the woods, but I couldn’t tell what it was. My heartbeat sounded like a bass drum as the anticipation of what I hoped it to be came to fruition. He pushed his rack through the brush and into the opening from the night before and then turned to head right towards my tree. At 80 yards and closing, I clicked off the safety on my gun. I centered the crosshairs square on his chest as he continued walking straight at me, and I squeezed the trigger. The sharp crack of my rifle shattered the frigid air and was followed by the unmistakable “thump” of the bullet finding its mark. Through my scope, I watched as his legs collapsed and he fell to the ground, dead in his tracks.
I cannot put into words the rush of emotion that hit me at that moment. To see a buck of this magnitude on public ground is a rarity, but to see him on three separate occasions was unbelievable. The third time was definitely the charm. The highs and lows of my pursuit for this particular buck drove me to sleep deprivation, but when it all finally came together, it was such an incredible experience. I spent half of the day just marveling at him after getting out of my stand and waiting for a friend to come help me drag him out. After putting the tape to him, he grossed 179.5", and I believe he will come up just shy of netting Boone and Crockett once the drying period concludes. As is the case with almost every buck hanging on my wall, the chase far outweighs the trophy, and this was no exception.
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