The wind was perfect, the barometer was rising and the anticipation of seeing a mature whitetail was at an all-time high. I had saved this particular stand for late season and knowing it hadn’t been hunted in over a month left me feeling positive.
 
To the east was cut corn, to the west an acorn flat and my stand was placed over a well-used staging area directly in between the two prime food sources.
 
Walking in that evening I noticed a multitude of tracks along with several piles of fresh droppings. It was obvious these late season deer were feeding in a small patch of cut corn located at the very back of the farm.
 
It seemed everything was in our favor, or so we assumed.
 
[post_thumbnail size=”post-hero”]
 
‘Swisssssssssh, swisssssssssh, swisssssssssh,’ what was that noise? To the south a deer bounded across the corn, through a deep ravine and into the thick oaks. Was this the sound of deer running in the corn stubble? Was this commotion more secondary rut activity as we had seen the night before?
 
Lifting my binoculars in an attempt to locate a source of the racket, I froze in disbelief. Through the thicket at the far end of the field I could see a fluorescent orange hat. And it was moving in my direction.
 
‘Swisssssssssh, swisssssssssh, swisssssssssh, thud, whap, swisssssssssh,‘ this source of racket, now getting closer to my treestand, was a fellow hunter. He too had figured out where these late season whitetail were feeding.
 
‘Swisssssssssh, swisssssssssh, swisssssssssh,’ was the sound of the hunter’s ground blind dragging through the brush.
 
‘Thud, thump, whap, whap, whap, whap!’ Mr. Noisy was providing me with play-by-play sounds of him dropping, unpacking and unfolding each side of his extremely stealthy (not so much) ground blind.
 
‘ZZZzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzztttt,’ there’s one zipper. Wait for it… ‘ZZZZZzzzzzzzzzzzzzt,’ there was zipper number two. ‘Thud, thump,’ and the sound of Mr. Noisy getting settled into his ground blind echoed across the field.
 
‘ZZZzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzztttt,’ there’s one zipper. Wait for it… ‘ZZZZZzzzzzzzzzzzzzt!’ Ah, Mr. Noisy was now snuggled securely into his blind. And I was getting ready to pay him a visit. This so-called hunter had not only trespassed onto private property, but had set up less than one hundred yards from my treestand.
 
As I snuck down the edge of the cornfield, I wondered what on earth this hunter was thinking? Maybe he was unaware that whitetail have ears—two of them. And not only can whitetail hear, but they can pinpoint the location of a sound from a considerable distance.
 
“Doesn’t this guy know you can’t be careless in this kind of weather?” There was no wind, the air was heavy and the slightest sound could be heard for hundreds of yards. Undoubtedly, Mr. Noisy had already spooked all the deer in that area.
 
‘ZZZzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzztttt,’ there’s one zipper. Wait for it… ‘ZZZZZzzzzzzzzzzzzzt,’ Mr. Noisy was now on his way to meet me. Attempting to salvage any remaining possibility of seeing a deer that evening, I asked in a whisper, “Do you have permission to hunt here?” The answer came much like his grand entrance—in an above normal voice that was sure to send every whitetail scurrying into the next county.
 
“Yes,” he said loudly, “we lease the adjoining property and we have permission to shoot in this field.” His answer was either a loud lie or yet another display of blatant ignorance.
 
Unfortunately, I couldn’t get ahold of the property owner, so I tried to sneak back to my stand. All the while listening to Mr. Noisy loudly talk on his cell phone concerning his presumed rights to hunt property he had not leased.
 
Once in my stand I tried to digest the reality of a hunter with a muzzleloader was now set up to shoot in my general direction, had trespassed onto private property and made more noise than a herd of elephants in the process. “Stay positive, stay positive, stay positive,” I repeatedly told myself. Maybe this night would end much better than how it started?
 
So I hoped.
 
As legal shooting light faded, it suddenly occurred to me. I bet Mr. Noisy will leave exactly the way he came. And I guarantee he will wait until the deer are almost to the field, then he’ll fire up his ground blind band.
 
Sure enough!
 
Just as several deer were approaching the staging area I heard the foreboding sound, ‘ZZZzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzztttt,’ there’s one zipper. Wait for it… ‘ZZZZZzzzzzzzt.’ ‘Whap, whap, whap, whap.’ ‘Swissssshh, Swisssshh, Swissssh, thud, whap, swisssssssshh.’ I shook my head in disbelief.
 
And combined with Mr. Noisy’s nerve-racking orchestra was the sound of several deer running as fast as they could.
 
Thanks, Mr. Noisy.
 
No matter who we meet, we can learn something about hunting. And there’s a lot to be learned from Mr. Noisy.