HUNT THE CORN CONNECTION    By R.E. Massey

Bowhunting World, December 1989 – Volume 8, No. 8

A small group of bowhunters on the prairies of Minnesota wait all season for snows to blanket the ground – and for good reason.  Snow and standing corn mean large whitetail herds and big bucks.  Getting a shot at one of these bucks is as easy as knowing the herd’s feeding pattern as they move through a cornfield.  We call it the corn connection.

The corn connection is new to many bowhunters who couldn’t imagine themselves out of their tree stands and on the ground.  Granted, the tree stand plays a major role in most bowhunting, but don’t get into the rut of thinking there’s no other way to hunt.

Hunting from a tree can be effective, but that effectiveness begins to lessen late in the season.  With the leaves gone you become more visible up in that tree, and the cold doesn’t allow you to sit still very long.  At this point, many of my bowhunting friends hang up their bows. 

These hunters are giving up on the two or three best weeks of the bow season.

Late season snow forces the deer into a feeding pattern that locks them into cornfields.  Naturally, it takes a special approach to hunt standing corn.  I’d like to explain how we do it in western Minnesota.

With herds of 30-50 deer in one standing cornfield, you can either get in that corn and blunder after them, or do what we call patterning, combining our knowledge of the herd’s natural movements through the corn with a controlled push and post method that requires only two hunters.  The object is to intercept that big buck. 

Patterning deer works on one simple principle -- a deer will flee directly away from the source of alarm, nine times out of 10.  This amounts to quite an advantage in a standing cornfield.  Garbed in white camo, you can post yourself in the path of fleeing whitetails without being spotted.  The technique provides many shots at deer, so it requires some self-control.  You can score on a big buck if you have patience.

My first bow season many years ago found me flinging a quiver of arrows at a deer herd running by me in the corn.  Excitement had taken control.  The first five arrows never touched a thing, but when more deer kept coming and I began to calm down, my last arrow brought down my first whitetail, a fine doe.

Since then, my partner Wade Schmidt and I have focused more on herd bucks, and our methods have brought down whitetail trophies.

If you want to take a big buck from the corn, you first have to verify his presence.  We scout herds by visiting local corn fields and watching their borders during the wee hours of the morning.  Once we’ve spotted a buck we want to go after, one hunter can move in and push the herd, while the other posts. 

As I said before, it takes some restraint to pass up shots at running deer, but that is what is needed for this kind of hunting.  I shoot a recurve bow, and I’m not about to take a shot at a deer much beyond 30 yards, a standard easily met when hunting in corn fields.

When posting, it’s common to see deer before they see you.  Those brittle cornstalks of late fall rattle loudly as deer push past, and spotting movement is easy for a hunter at rest.  On the other hand, whitetails have difficulty seeing a man in white camo, especially when he doesn’t move a muscle.  Actually, I remain motionless only when deer come in close, otherwise, I’m scanning at all times to pick out that big buck.

How does it feel to be in that situation?  Here’s an example of how things can work out.

Around Thanksgiving time last year, Wade and I monitored several standing cornfields.  Each morning we departed at 4 a.m. and motored out to the fields in the dark.  We’d cut the lights and engine and roll the car to a halt on the corner of one of the fields.  There we’d sit, waiting for that sunrise glow, hoping to see a herd coming from some far-off cover to enter the corn and eat.  From our corner we could glass two sides of the field at once.

It was Thanksgiving morning when we located a fine herd buck at the tail of a long string of moving deer.  Fifty does and lesser bucks had come first when we picked up his rack in the binoculars.  Turkey dinner would have to wait.  We figured with any amount of luck we’d be gutting that big boy later in the day.

Moving quietly, Wade and I slipped out of the car and hiked into the corn, hoping to intercept the herd.  We assumed they would feed along the same line they traveled as they entered the field.

This field belonged to the Minnesota Department of Natural Resources.  It had been planted as a food plot, and picked in strips with alternating sections of standing and cut corn.

Entering the ankle-high stalks of the fourth open strip, Wade spotted the flicking tail and rump of a deer slipping into the next standing strip.  We knew if they fed at such a leisurely pace, we could keep up.

We huddled and talked strategy.  Wade would let them pass on while I ran ahead to post for a shot.  Once I had positioned myself on an open strip, Wade would get behind the herd and be sure they kept moving.

Breathing hard from my run, I positioned myself for the wait.  A rising wind rattled the corn stalks so I had no fear that my running had been detected by the deer.  On quiet days, a slower pace is required.  I often move with three or four steps followed by a rest, letting the noise of my steps imitate the sound another deer might make as it moves through the corn.

This day Wade moved too far as he pushed the herd.  He had been spotted and the entire group was in motion, coming my way.

The sound of 50 deer crashing through a cornfield is hard to miss.  I was ready.  I flexed my bow and made sure I wouldn’t get hung up on anything when the time came for a shot.

Suddenly, a mob of does rushed out next to me and stopped in the unpicked strip.  They were a perfect shot away, backs turned, checking their backtrail.  I hoped the buck would do the same.  The deer paid no attention to me at all as their panting threw plumes of frosty breath into the cold air.  Then they turned and were gone.

A small fork buck and two button bucks appeared next, trotting slowly by without pause.  It would have been an easy shot.

With the little bucks gone, I thought of Wade.  Our plan called for stopping after spooking deer to allow the herd to slow up, double check for whatever might have spooked them, and perhaps go back to feeding.  I knew he wouldn’t be moving right now.

One thing you can count on in such a situation is that the herd buck will come last.  A big buck is wise enough to use his herd for survival.  That’s how they get so big – by letting the herd go ahead to draw the fire.  If the herd is shot at, the buck will skirt the area, or lay low until things blow over.  It’s almost like a football running back letting his blockers run interference for him.

Sure enough.  The next thing I knew the old skulker slipped his head and beautiful rack out from the standing corn to look over the picked strip.  He was big and broadside at 20 yards, but he was staring right at me.  A cracking sound on his back trail told both of us Wade was coming slowly through the rows.  That’s the way to drive deer in corn.  With a slow drive, big bucks won’t bolt, but keep just far enough ahead to stay out of harm’s way.

That slow movement creates a good and bad situation for the poster.  The buck travels slow enough to allow a good bow shot, but he also takes time to check things carefully.  That’s the situation I found myself in – eyeball to eyeball with the herd buck, with no chance to draw without spooking him. 

He heard Wade again and turned to look.  I cranked the bow back, but the buck caught my movement.  Flag raised, he tore off down the picked rows heading straight away from me.  A butt shot on a running deer offers low percentages, so I held off, watching him bound away as Wade stepped from the corn.

Like so many other bowhunting methods, this had resulted in a close encounter with no actual success, but it was hard to be down about things.

Wade and I had worked our routine and succeeded in manipulating the herd exactly as planned.  We both counted that as success.  A whitetail buck is legendary for being the hardest game animal to fool.  This time the contest had been close, but the big deer was the winner.

Cornfield hunts continue to work for us, year after year.  The elements of weather and food availability combine to enhance our chances for success.  When snow falls, the deer gather at those few remaining plots of standing corn – and they gather in herds.  With good binoculars and some timely scouting you can see the herd buck you’re going after.  It never fails.  The does know they must “lard up” with corn to get through the winter, and the herd buck, who’s still got breeding on his mind, will follow them everywhere.

Snow provides a perfect background for tracking wounded deer, and the white background helps a hunter become nearly invisible.  No other camo works as well as white when you’re on the ground.  We’ve had amazing success with it. 

Details shouldn’t be overlooked either.  For example, we use a scent called Corn Lure which masks our scent in these close-up hunting situations.

In cornfield hunting, adverse weather has often worked in our favor.  Over the years we’ve come to appreciate storms, and even full-scale blizzards, as the best time to be afield.

Deer often remain in the standing corn during a “blow,” enjoying the shelter and food available there.  Meanwhile, this works to your advantage because swirling snow masks noise, covers scent and obscures sight.

Deer remain rather dormant in a storm, often lying down in the corn rows.  We stalk about slowly at this time, until we can locate a group and move close enough for a shot.  A friend, Mike Stegner, has gained an impressive reputation for being able to shoot a bedded deer – quite a trick if you’ve never tried it.

I was along with Mike one fine blizzard-like day, when he crept to within seven steps of a buck and drilled an arrow through the animal’s lungs before it could get to its feet.  Although the shot creates a difficult angle, Mike has done it half a dozen times.  A deer hit in the lungs at that range doesn’t travel far.  Shooting a bedded animal is a skill that requires practice.  If you’re accomplished at stalking, the shot can one day come in handy.

Don’t Quit Early

The next time you think about putting your bow away, think about what you might be missing.  When was the last time you hunted among a herd of deer?  Was there a first time? 

In late fall trophy bucks come out of the woodwork.  Early fall they’re able to hide all too well in the foliage.  Midfall they’re in the endless cornfields, for all intents and purposes, invisible.  But when the corn comes down and the snow sets in, there they are, with the herds, looking for any standing corn they can find.

It may be a cold, hard season, but it’s the best time of year to bag a trophy.  If you pursue the herds, you’ll find yourself hunting hard when it pays to hunt hard. 

If you take the time to learn this type of hunting, you’ll quickly see why the technique is so effective.  The corn connection puts the whole herd in one place.  You can beat the cold because you’ll be moving, and beat the crowds because they can’t take the cold.  And, you’ll be able to hunt selectively for the deer of your choice.