An Alberta Adventure for Big Rutting Whitetails: Part 1

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"I can’t wait for you to see the country tomorrow morning when the sun comes up,” says Corey. “I’m interested to hear your opinion, because I honestly think it’s some of the best whitetail habitat anywhere in the world.”

The conversation started over a bowl of homemade soup at an Airbnb cabin in southwestern Alberta, not far into Canada across the Montana border — just north of where the United States’ Glacier National Park gives way to Victorialand’s Waterton Lakes. Corey Jarvis, owner of Three Rivers Adventures Outfitters, was speaking to myself and my group of ever-eager hunting comrades.

The next morning marked the start of an adventure we’d anxiously awaited all year. We were there to hunt with members of the Kainaiwa Blood Tribe on the Blood 148 First Nations Reserve, by their invitation and under their guideship. During his many years of guiding mule deer and whitetail hunts in the area, Corey had become acquainted with Darcy Weaselhead, a member of the Blood Tribe and owner of War Cry Outfitters.

It was Nov. 5, 2023. After a long day of travel (2,300 miles from my home in North Carolina), I’d finally arrived in camp under cover of darkness and without any real clue what the landscape looked like, I’ll add. My hosts were Shaundi Campbell, Senior Marketing Manager at Browning Firearms, and Troy Ball, Brand Manager at Lacrosse Boots. Shaundi and Troy had extended the generous hunting invitation to myself and North American Whitetail’s Associate Editor, Blake Garlock.

Nodding in agreement with Corey, Darcy adds: “It really is amazing country. The reservation encompasses 545 square miles, and we’ll primarily be hunting along the Belly River. On our best day, I’d estimate we’ve seen between 800 and 1,000 whitetails.”

Keep in mind, I’d met these fellas about 20 minutes before we sat down to eat. I’d never seen 800 whitetails in a single day anywhere in the world, and I’d hunted from western Saskatchewan to South Texas. I remember seeing close to 200 whitetails in a single day while hunting in northeastern Wyoming, and certainly over 100 in a single day in parts of Texas — but never anywhere near 1,000.

I must admit, I was skeptical. But I’d read some pretty awesome statistics on Corey’s website. Known especially for his success guiding trophy mule deer hunts, Corey and his guides at Three Rivers Adventures advertise a 100-percent “quality” shot opportunity on muley bucks in the 160- to 200-inch range. Taking an average of 10-12 archery hunters each year, as well as some gun hunters, he’s guided over 130 successful hunts.

But what about whitetails? For 19 years Corey has guided both bow and gun hunters to success on big, trophy whiteys.

As he explains: “If the whitetail experts were to get together to design the best possible habitat for high quality deer production, it would likely look a lot like this area. The dense, swampy, cottonwood river bottoms, surrounded by lush abundant crops of peas, alfalfa, cereal grains and canola provide everything necessary for trophy whitetail. We call it a true sportsman’s paradise!”

Having read about it online and heard it in person at the dinner table, I was ready to experience this world-class whitetail hunting in real life. So, off to bed I went, dreaming of what kind of action the morning would bring.

Sunrise Over New Land

About two hours before dawn, we convoyed to Darcy’s house, where each hunter hopped into a pickup truck with their respective guides. I rolled out with Corey and Lance Bird, another man of the Blood First Nations. Trusty cameraman Brad Biddle was in tow as well, to film the hunt for NAW TV.

I was full of questions as the pickup steered nearer the reserve. As darkness steadily lost ground to the rising morning sun, I ask: “What’s the plan this morning, fellas?”

“We’re going to start up top and look downhill into the river bottoms, glassing for any deer returning to cover from the crop fields.” Corey explains. “Since it’s just the first week of November, the rut really hasn’t kicked off. The bucks have been cruising and laying down a lot of ground scrapes and making rubs. But the does are basically still on a feeding pattern. I want to be where we can see does returning to bedding, in hopes bucks will be nearby.”

My wristwatch finally ticked past the marker I’d been waiting on, legal shooting light, right as we turned off a gravel road and eased the pickup truck over the brim of a big canyon wall. For the first time in my life, I was officially hunting in Alberta — which had been on my bucket list for many years.

I’ll never forget the sights I saw in those first few seconds of my Alberta hunting experience. At the sight and sound of our tuck, whitetails busted like coveys of quail from thick “buck brush” in every direction. Two things I realized instantly — No. 1, I had no clue how deep, wide and absolutely massive this river bottom was; and No. 2, my guides hadn’t been exaggerating at dinner. We were about to see hundreds of deer.

From our perch I could see whitetails moving across the landscape literally everywhere. The first group of four or five does ran away from our truck only a hundred yards or so, before they calmed down and commenced to walking calmly through the thick masses of cattails and cover, confirming to me that they weren’t overly wary of the vehicle. Across the landscape I could see several young bucks on the move, including a nice 130-class 8-pointer ferociously making a ground scrape about 150 yards away.

In about 20 minutes, I glassed 50 or 60 whitetails. Some were close, within 70 yards or so of our position, walking downhill on deeply worn trails that looked more like water erosion cuts than deer paths. Corey and Lance had perfectly predicted what we’d see — does moving from food to bedding, and bucks downwind checking their scent. We were parked on the border of a large cut canola field and alfalfa field, obviously popular nighttime food sources, both directly adjacent to the river bottom beneath us.

I glassed many more deer wandering through the cottonwoods along the riverbank as far as a half-mile away. I spotted flashes of bucks chasing does through the timber, while other bucks were already bedded down for the day. It was amazing how many deer we could see thanks to us having the uphill advantage. These deer would have been invisible at eye-level, even with the vegetation already gone from the trees, yet from our 100-foot uphill vantage point we could see all the action.

We waited about 20 minutes before pulling up stakes, backing out and continuing down the road. Driving parallel to the river, we traveled about a mile before pulling off on the shoulder once again. This time, we got out of the truck and walked a short way to the edge of the canyon to again glass the low ground.

In this spot, the river made a huge oxbow going away from us. The land was pinched by the flowing water, creating an upside-down “U” shape. I could see where large cottonwoods and aspens lined the bank of the river, giving way to shorter, scrubbier trees in the land between. Patches of open ground were scattered amongst the timber, all of which had edges of waist-high grasses. Cattails grew in many places where standing water remained.

The wind was blowing from the Northeast, which happened to be right-to-left how I was facing. I saw many deer working their way through the river bottom. But one stood out from the rest! It was a buck, doing just what he was supposed to be doing, with his head raised and nose to the wind. He was a colossal-bodied 8-pointer that would easily score in the mid 140s, if not better!

Glassing the buck with my Sig Sauer Kilo 3000BDX binoculars, I hit the rangefinder button and determined he was 215 yards away. I watched as the buck lowered his head, walked towards a low hanging tree limb, and commenced to thrashing it! After breaking branches and rubbing the trunk of the tree violently, he aggressively scraped the ground, tearing his hooves into the dirt before finally squatting and marking his territory.

“That’s an absolute TANK!” I say to Corey and Lance. “If I was anywhere else, and if we hadn’t only been hunting 30 minutes, I’d shoot him!”

But I could tell I was hunting somewhere unlike I’d ever been. Clearly the Blood 148 Reserve was teeming with whitetails, and in short order I’d developed a lot of confidence in my guides. With a week’s worth of decent hunting weather on the forecast, and nothing to do but keep covering ground looking for trophy bucks, I elected to let the big 8-point go.

And just like that, the buck faded off into a grove of aspens, and we kept on down the gravel road. Luckily, the action was far from over...

Wake Up, Brother!

It was around 9:30 a.m. when I finally couldn’t stand it and had to send a text message to Blake Garlock, who the day prior had been delayed on one of his flights and hadn’t arrived at camp until around 2:00 a.m.

“You gotta get out here, brother. There are deer EVERYWHERE, and I’ve already passed some nice bucks,” my message read.

When Blake didn’t immediately respond, I figured he was probably still sleeping. So, I did what any good deer huntin’ buddy would do under those circumstances — I called and woke him up!

“What’s up?” asks Blake, sounding groggy and like he’d just rolled over on a cot in a basement in another country.

“Man, I know you’re tired, but you’re going to thank me later. And you can sleep later . . . but right now, you need to get in the truck and come hunting. We’re going to kill some big bucks here, buddy,” I tell him.

“I’m on it,” Blake responds. “Good luck and call me when you shoot one!”

Shooter Spotted

Shortly after I hung up with Blake, we made it to the next spot. We eased the truck into a ditch where we were concealed by a steep grassy berm. Crawling up the dirt bank and eventually to an old, barbed-wire fence, I got comfortable and removed my binoculars from their chest harness to scan the country below.

We were tucked behind a fence near a large horse pasture with a barn to my left about 700 yards away. Directly in front of me, was a several-acre alfalfa field that was littered with feeding deer — approximately 40 or so does and young bucks. The field was bordered at the rear by a thick wall of timber and cover that dropped off into the banks of the Belly River. To the far right of the field, tall native grasses necked back into the canyon for about 1,000 yards.

After confirming there were no shooter bucks in the alfalfa, I started eyeballing the grass patch, looking for antler tips. Right away, I spotted a buck 500 yards away. He too had his head up and was raking his antlers on a low-hanging tree limb. I could tell it was a far better buck than the one I’d passed earlier in the morning, but I wasn’t sure just how much better.

Corey and Lance were beside me, and luckily, they had a spotting scope. The extra magnification proved useful, as Corey was quickly able to tell the buck was either a 6x5 or 6x6 with short G-5s, no doubt scoring in the 150 to 160 class.Brad Biddle was able to film the buck for about a half-hour as he closed the distance between us and eased closer to the alfalfa field. The buck could smell the does, and he worked towards them with the wind in his face and his head constantly raised and nose working.

He came as close as 300 yards before circling around the outer edge of the alfalfa field and confirming no does were “hot.” The bruiser buck then disappeared into the thick timber. Could I have shot him? No doubt! Did I want to? Honestly, yes, I did! But I didn’t, because I really wasn’t ready for the hunt to be over, and I still had a strong curiosity for what might be waiting around the next bend.

Afterall, we’d only been hunting for an hour or so, and already I’d made the tough decision to pass two great whitetails — both fully mature with tank-sized bodies. Would the gamble pay off? With four more days of hunting remaining, and countless miles of prime deer habitat still to be explored, I was confident it would.

Shots Fired

We ate lunch on the truck tailgate at noon, overlooking a vast cavern of “rainbow rock” while a nice 4x4 muley buck worked a group of does up over the horizon line. In the three previous hours, we’d seen a hundred or so more deer — both whitetails and muleys.

By then we’d worked away from the river bottom and up into some canola fields that were approximately 1,000 feet higher in elevation. Honestly, as the middle of the day approached, we’d switched gears into sight-seeing as much as we were hunting, knowing the action would be slower until the last couple hours of daylight arrived.

While eating our sandwiches, we got a text message from Shaundi that she’d killed a big muley buck on a spot & stalk mission. She sent a picture of the heavy-racked buck lying on the ground. Success on day one! We sent Shaundi a congratulatory text back, and then got back to hunting.

Over the next several hours, we saw at least 100 more whitetails and one big shooter buck. Unfortunately, that buck was about 1,000 yards away and not in a good position for us to make a stalk. So, we marked his last-known position using the onX mapping app and kept going.

With about two hours of daylight left, Corey says to me: “You know, I’ll bet you that big 6x5 we saw this morning will be back in the alfalfa this evening. If you want him, we’ll go take a look.”

“Twist my arm!” I reply. “I promise I’m not crazy enough to pass him twice.”

Off we went, back to where our hunt had started in the early morning hours. And when we returned, the same massive herd of does and young bucks were out in the alfalfa feeding. We crawled back into position along the barbed wire fence to get a good vantage point, in case our target buck reappeared.

Like clockwork, only a half-hour into our evening vigil, the 6x5 came back onto the scene. Corey spotted the buck first. He initially emerged into the grassy draw about 500 yards away. The buck was working towards the alfalfa, stopping every 50 yards along the wood line to make scrapes and hit licking branches.

Once I confirmed with Brad Biddle that he had the buck on camera and was filming, I deployed the bipod and steadied my X-Bolt II Speed 6.5 Creedmoor rifle. I watched the buck in my crosshairs as he closed the distance to 395 yards. At that exact distance, the buck stopped and hit yet another licking branch.

His posture and body language suggested the buck was about to ease into the timber and away from the field. It was then or never . . . if I was going to take a shot, I’d better get on with it.

Luckily, I’d shot my X-Bolt II out to 400 yards quite a bit prior to the hunt and felt confident I could do it. So, I took a deep breath, held my crosshair accordingly, exhaled and squeezed.

Boom! The shot rang out across the open field. Through my scope, I watched the bullet impact, hitting just behind the shoulder and lower than I wanted. The buck cow-kicked and ran directly towards us, clearly unsure of where the shot had come from. Staying on him in the scope, I estimated the buck had come another 100 yards closer. He then stopped broadside, just long enough for me to adjust my hold and squeeze off another round.

Boom! Shot number two struck the boiler room, nearly knocking the buck to the ground. I watched him run out of the field and tumble into the thick brush along the timber’s edge. He was down!

Day One Celebrations

It didn’t take us long to recover the buck, having seen him go down in the tall grass just beyond the alfalfa field. We worked our way down into the river drainage and found him expired in the thick brambles.

It was an awesome experience to lay my hands on him. He was a big-bodied Alberta bruiser with an awesome 6x5 rack. His coat was especially beautiful, with a sandy blonde color that paired perfectly with his light-colored antlers. My first Alberta whitetail was exactly the kind of deer I’d come to Canada hoping to kill. I felt blessed beyond measure to end the day having punched a tag on such a phenomenal trophy. Even though the hunt had ended on the first day, it truly felt like the experience of a lifetime.

When we returned to camp, Shaundi was there with her big muley buck, as well. Her deer was truly a stud, with a super-heavy rack scoring in the 170-class. Shaundi was all smiles, as was the rest of our group — having all seen tons of deer and multiple shooters.

In Conclusion

This adventure was still far from over after Shaundi and I had taken our bucks. Heck, by the time I was done hunting, Blake Garlock had only been in the field for a few hours! He and Troy Ball still had the better part of a week to find bucks worthy of their tags.

And for the rest of the hunt, they’d have my undivided attention and help scouting, I’m proud to say! To read the exciting details surrounding the rest of our hunt, stay tuned for the next issue of NAW magazine. In Part II, Blake Garlock will write the closing chapter of this epic hunting tale.

For more information about Three Rivers Adventures and trophy hunting opportunities in Alberta, visit: 3riversadventures.com

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