By 1994, Clyde Albers had grown weary of asking others for permission to hunt on ground he didn't own. So Clyde spoke to his banker about buying some bottomland near his home in Minden, Neb.  The banker told him that he would approve the loan, but, for the same price, he had even more land in Lincoln County for sale.

Clyde looked the 160-acre tract over thoroughly. It was almost two hours from his home. The land contained some swampy areas bordered by clover patches, lots of trees and plenty of cover for deer. Pleased with what he saw, Clyde bought the place.

When Clyde's son, Nick, was old enough to deer hunt, they put a camper in the middle of the parcel, using it as their "home away from home" on hunting trips. They both took a lot of deer off the property, but none could compare to the one that Clyde bagged last season.

Sometimes the best deer harvests don't have the most exciting stories -- "I got to the tree, an hour later the deer came by and I got him." And at first glance that would appear to be the case for the monster 12-pointer I was blessed to take on Nov. 7, 2004. The actual hunt took only about an hour -- on the first day -- and I was seated in my treestand only 30 minutes before this world-class buck came by. But the story would only be boring if you didn't know the years of heart-pounding close calls, weather fiascos and downright bad luck that preceded taking this incredible animal.

Sometimes the best deer harvests don't have the most exciting stories -- "I got to the tree, an hour later the deer came by and I got him." And at first glance that would appear to be the case for the monster 12-pointer I was blessed to take on Nov. 7, 2004. The actual hunt took only about an hour -- on the first day -- and I was seated in my treestand only 30 minutes before this world-class buck came by. But the story would only be boring if you didn't know the years of heart-pounding close calls, weather fiascos and downright bad luck that preceded taking this incredible animal.

Smart deer hunters stay home on bad weather days. Yeah right, we’ve been hearing that one for years. However some deer hunters seem bound and determined to learn things the hard way. I’m one of them. So there I sat atop a 16-foot tripod in a blinding rain. What a way to ring in the first day of a new year.

The saving grace for my situation was a canopy roof on the hunting stand covered with waterproof ripstop nylon. Despite a few minor leaks around the seams of the sidewalls, I was feeling pretty cozy, and for the most part I was dry.

In this world of fast food, fast living, and fast everything, the rush is too often carried over into the world of whitetail hunting. Unless you regularly beat the odds at Las Vegas, luck won’t carry you very far in rushing a hunt for a respectable whitetail buck ... especially if you’re a bowhunter. Doing it right takes time and patience. I realize those are not buzz-words for the 90s, but thus far, big whitetails still aren’t very sympathetic to our instant-gratification, push-button mentality. They won’t be rushed.

On your maiden voyage to hunt the ultimate whitetail in the sub-zero winterlands of the northwestern U.S. or western Canada, you will inevitably meet the unexpected, perhaps at just the wrong moment. It may cost you the trophy for which you’ve paid so dearly. Take the advice of those who have gone before you and go prepared. You don’t have to learn the hard way!

As I approached the buck, lying motionless in a foot of snow, I looked at his rather average 8-point rack (average at least for Saskatchewan) and felt a twinge of disappointment.

Veteran turkey chasers and newcomers to the sport have been quick to snap up the customized shotguns made for turkey hunting. They practice calling and then head to the woods in search of a big ol' Tom. Before the first moment of legal shooting time, though, they've already committed a huge turkey hunting mistake.

"If you're not patterning your turkey gun, it's like going into the woods and deer hunting without sighting in your rifle," said Mike Larsen of Federal Ammunition. "You wouldn't think of putting a scope on your rifle and going deer hunting without shooting it, but that's really what turkey hunters do all the time."

During the 1997 hunting season I had the good fortune of being invited to Texas for two whitetail hunts. Although each was in a different location and offered unique terrain, both were for management bucks. These hunts are designed to remove bucks from the herd because of some undesirable trait the ranch game manager has determined to be counterproductive to his whitetail management criteria.

My first hunt was with Don Montgomery at his ranch north of Fort Worth. Don owns and manages approximately 3,200 acres under high fence.

One thing I’ve learned in my years as a hunter and outdoors writer is that hunters never agree on a single perfect rifle caliber for whitetails, or anything else for that matter. The truth is that any single choice of caliber for all deer hunting on this planet will suffer somewhere in the whitetail’s diverse world that includes open prairies, densely timbered hardwood swamps, vast mountains, ad infinitum. So, rather than put all my eggs in one basket, I have several picks for whitetails, depending upon the terrain where I intend to hunt. What follows will make a case for but one: the Remington .25-06, my personal favorite for a fairly thick slice of the whitetail hunting pie. But this is not just about a single rifle caliber. It’s about a most deadly match of an outstanding bullet to a wonderful deer cartridge.

On Oct. 11, 1996, when Sam Collora of Mt. Pleasant, Iowa, released his arrow, he made deer hunting history by bagging the BTR’s highest-ranking typical deer ever taken with a compound bow. In 1997, Sam’s buck, scoring 204 6/8, was awarded the Golden Laurel Citation, which is given annually for the most significant whitetail buck entered into the BTR. All who have had the privilege of viewing Sam’s majestic whitetail quickly agree that it is one of the most impressive ever taken.

While Sam’s buck is awesome, it is not score alone that makes it so. Yes it’s huge, but it is also a unique and graceful work of nature’s art.

A billboard along Interstate 27 near Amarillo, Texas, boldly proclaimed, “Jesus was a vegetarian. Show respect for God’s creatures — follow Him.” It caused such uproar that the advertising company that hoisted the astounding proclamation removed the controversial message. Guess who was behind that billboard and others in Tulsa, Atlanta, and Saskatoon, Saskatchewan, with similar campaigns planned for Dallas, Colorado Springs and Omaha? PETA (People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals), of course.

Amazingly, in taking the liberty of using Jesus as a campaign figurehead against the killing of animals and billboarding Him as a vegetarian, they missed one important issue: the truth!

Many bowhunters don’t understand how the “sharpness factor” figures into bowhunting success. First, one must realize that game animals shot with arrows die from blood loss or hemorrhaging. Arrows, unlike bullets, have relatively little foot pounds of impact on big game animals.

My 80-pound compound bow delivers a 660-grain hunting arrow, leaving the string at 245 fps, with about 88 foot pounds of energy.

The fastest way to start an argument among deer hunters is to offer an opinion, any opinion, about the “perfect” deer rifle. The truth is that a given rifle might be perfect in one hunter’s hands and not so perfect in another’s. Any perfect deer rifle is the result of a combination of critical elements, which may include (but are not restricted to) caliber, accuracy of a specific cartridge-bullet combination, length of pull, trigger weight, recoil, action, stock design, hunting terrain, and of course, shooter ability. Suffice to say there is no perfect deer rifle unless, above all, it is accurate.

Darn, there was one, but a tire must have gone right over the head, crushing the skull. Steve Shaffer checked on his daughter, Lacy, still asleep in her car seat. He'd been driving back roads for a couple of hours, leaning forward in hope and scanning the road at the limit of his high beams. The beetles were hungry. He needed a road kill bad, or else he's be out shooting ground hogs again after work tomorrow.

The sun was finally setting on this summer day in Pennsylvania, and the air was beginning to cool the woods. It was time for the old doe to rise from her bed and begin the short journey to the meadow where she would feed with her young fawn. Quietly picking her way through the underbrush, she approached her most dangerous obstacle en route, a dark two-lane country road that rarely saw traffic at this time of night. But this night would be different.

The driver didn't see the doe until it was too late. Tires squealed and smoked as he tried to stop the vehicle to no avail. The old doe was killed instantly, leaving the fawn on the edge of the road, orphaned and at the mercy of Mother Nature.

The single best clue to unraveling the secrets for tagging trophy bucks is to nail down their travel routes. One of the enduring questions about understanding buck behavior is whether or not their travel patterns are set in concrete. Let's face it: If you know where a buck travels, you have a much better chance to take him. Once you put these pieces of the travel puzzle together, you can devise a plan for a big buck encounter.

Hunting skills like scouting and stalking will not put antlers on the wall. To close the deal, you must make the shot. Tactics, techniques, scents and calls might get you close but will be of no use when it’s trigger time. Many of us hunt with bow and rifle, but fail to recognize the similarities between the two pursuits. Often, when we take our rifles to the woods, we forget the importance of those things we consider vital with our archery gear.

Sure, you’ve got to see the buck to shoot it. But it’s accurate shooting that keeps hunters smiling and taxidermists in business.

Six inches of snow covered the Ohio ground that December day in 1995. I hit the woods and found some very big tracks. I followed them and within a few yards found a “dead deer” lying at the treeline. Its ribs and spine were showing, and its eyes were sunken. I decided to continue to my stand and return later to investigate.

After about an hour of hunting, I walked up again on the buck and was surprised to find that it wasn’t dead. It had merely been sleeping or “playing possum.” The buck rose and was obviously in bad shape. Its back right leg was dragging above the knee, and its left was not looking good, either. Still, the buck managed to run.

Ever wonder what white-tailed deer ate before man came up with the idea of food plots? That statement is not meant to be a smart aleck comment. It's meant to initiate a dialogue with wildlife habitat managers, landowners, and deer hunters in an effort to have them recognize the full potential of the natural browse that already exists on the properties they hunt.

Truth is, as wildlife land mangers we may have gone a tad bit overboard on food plots. When you get around a group of deer hunters, the talk sooner or later is going to turn to "what are you planting this year?"