Dr. Ken Nordberg has good luck deer hunting from a ground level stand site as long as he takes along his folding stool.

Have you have ever discovered fresh tracks of a big buck (4 inches long) and a mature doe (three inches long) on a deer trail leading toward a whitetail feeding area, in the dark while heading back to camp in the evening? If you don’t have a previously prepared stand site and approach trail on a downwind or crosswind perimeter of that feeding area, those tracks probably wouldn’t have been much of an interest to you. If you were a member of the Nordberg hunting gang, however, and a folding stool was strapped to your back, you then would have been very anxious to get back to camp to listen to the latest forecast on your weather radio—especially the part about the expected wind direction in the morning. Then you’d maybe check your satellite photo of the area as well, because such a discovery is the bread-and-butter of how the Nordbergs often take mature bucks.

The reason is, the first two weeks of breeding during the whitetail rut is always concurrent with the firearm hunting season in Minnesota, and it would therefore be logical to assume that buck was with that doe because she was in heat. Moreover, because does generally feed during traditional hours despite being in heat, it was then almost certain that buck would be with that doe in that same feeding area at first light in the morning. And that hunter could therefore take quick advantage of this this knowledge before that doe’s 24 to 26 hours of being in heat runs out. And it’s all possible because of that lowly stool.

Consider the evening I spotted a big buck accompanying a mature doe and fawn feeding in a grassy finger of a large, irregularly shaped clear-cut about 350 yards east of where I sat on my stool, just before it became too dark to see them. By the time I got back to camp that evening and checked the weather forecast for the following morning, I had a plan firmly in mind for taking that buck. In the morning, I’d walk the entire way from camp to the downwind western end of that finger, along a familiar trail I had used in the past to drag out a couple of black bears. This would make it easy to find my way a considerable distance in darkness with my small flashlight in hand, planning to arrive where I would select a ground-level stand site to use shortly before first light.

Though the light breeze from the east would be on my back during the entire first half of my approach, I would be well south of that grassy opening until reaching the beaver pond, where the trail turns north toward the western downwind end of that finger. That old trail, however, turned out to be barely discernable, because it was now covered with clumps of interlacing alders ten feet tall. Knowing my way and often checking my compass to make sure I was traveling in the right direction, I finally managed to make my way to the pond without stepping on branches that might break loudly underfoot.

There, however, more alders, plus some wide spruce trees, completely blocked the trail coursing north, forcing me to take a couple of detours. They finally brought me to a familiar opening, through which the old trail coursed north. I was now about 75 yards or so from the unknown spot where I would sit down on my stool. So far, so good.

Being this near, I had to proceed the rest of the way without the aid of my flashlight. After waiting a few minutes for my eyes to adjust to seeing under the dim starlight, I silently made my way past my old bear stand tree without being detected by the deer that I expected to see about another twenty yards or more dead ahead.

At this point, with lots of dense brush in front of me, I decided it would be prudent to sit down on my stool and silently wait until first light, when I could more clearly see what was ahead of me. A few minutes later, a thin white line could be seen along the eastern horizon, meaning first light would magically sweep through the forest around me very soon.

About then, I heard a soft, unmistakable buck grunt, I guessed about 75 to 100 yards away, which started my heart racing. This meant those deer were now feeding there as expected, in the mouth of that opening. Moving near enough to see them without them seeing or hearing me was going to be tough. All I really needed to see, I decided, was the middle third of that grassy opening, where a well-worn deer trail emerges from the dense timber just to the right of a big granite rock on the opposite side—a trail I had seen deer using several times in past years. These deer would very likely use that trail when heading back to the doe’s bedding area. This meant, I’d have to move toward the right from where I was sitting, probably about another twenty feet or so, before easing toward the opening.

Suddenly, with the blink of my eyes, the black boughs of the spruce trees around became slightly tinted with the color green, meaning first light had arrived. It was time to begin my final move to a stand site. With that, I removed my cap, donned my camo headnet with the oblong eye-hole, and then put my cap back on top. Next, I pulled on my dark cotton gloves, thus covering all my bare skin, and stood up. After swinging my stool to my back and reaching for my rifle, I was ready to go.

In the direction I had decided to go, the turned-up roots of a fallen tree would provide fine cover for my move toward the edge of the clearing, and then serve as a great natural blind needing no alterations. Keeping my eyes on the ground to avoid stepping on branches that might snap loudly underfoot, I began walking softly in that direction.

“Grunt.”

Darn, there they were, only about 25 yards away, walking toward me with the doe in the lead. I immediately froze, hardly daring to breath. The doe then halted, with the other two deer halting directly behind her, the one on the rear having very impressive antlers. The doe was now staring at me. Suddenly, I could see recognition in her eyes, after which she immediately snorted, as expected. With that, all three deer whirled and began bounding straight away, the buck leading.

Though I quickly had them in my scope, all but the buck’s antlers were hidden by the bounding, tail-up forms of the doe and fawn. They then veered to the right past the enormous granite outcropping on the right side of the opening and then disappeared from sight.

No, I am not always successful at getting to a never-seen-before ground level stand site, in darkness before first light in the morning, without nearby deer knowing it. But with practiced skill, I’ve accomplished it often enough to take a mature buck almost every year since 1990.

Find more useful hunting insight from the pros who know in the fall issues of MidWest Outdoors, available by subscribing on our website.