Ethan Amerson of Timmonsville trudged through knee-deep water, protected by a pair of waders but still feeling enough of the chill to keep him fully in touch with his surroundings. Guided by the faint light of the early morning sky through flooded cypress knees that gave way to a long, narrow clearing of thigh-deep water, Amerson pitched a pair of mallard decoys out and made his way to the spot he wanted to stand, watching his brother, Chuck, toss out two wood duck decoys to his right and friend Scott Rollins of Bishopville putting two teal decoys in the drink to his left.
For three years, I hunted this same buck with only fleeting sightings of him — usually in the opening week and during the rut. Not once did I ever have even a remote opportunity to draw my bow. I knew something would have to change or he would die of old age or at the hands of a hunter on an adjacent property.
On a steel-gray, November afternoon, Rob Bennett of Lowcountry Inshore Charters cruised the lower section of the North Edisto River, checking areas where he’d been catching speckled trout to see which one best fit the level of the rising tide.
Imagine spending six days on a jungle island; deer-hunting when you have a hankerin’, fishing when you feel like it, and sitting by a campfire at night eating and drinking like some banana republic royalty.
Big deer are already hitting the ground, so learn how to tag your buck -- even after the rut.