Getting invited to deer camp, especially a good one, should be savored like an expensive bottle of bourbon. For DIYers who do their best to door knock or hunt the closest public lands, these invites can offer good, low-stakes hunting opportunities. At the very least, they can offer a break from the usual grind and a chance to feel the freezer.
Deer camps typically have preset stands or manicured food plots, so there’s not a ton of guesswork involved. You have zero skin in the game, so you’re just as happy to not see anything as you are to kill the camp’s next record buck (though you probably shouldn’t). And if the company turns out to be better than the hunting, you should probably inquire about potential openings.
While it might take months, even years, to receive an invite to your buddy’s deer camp, losing such an opportunity can happen in a matter of seconds. Most deer camps or clubs worth their salt have clearly defined rules, traditions, and established etiquette. Break these and you might as well spit in the face of the members and kiss any hope of a return trip goodbye. Even if no one lays out the rules for you, it’s your job to ask what is and is not allowed. Some of the points I’ve listed should seem obvious. Then again, I regularly hear horror stories from relatives or friends who have witnessed these kinds of blunders. Just be sure you don’t make one of these mistakes the next time you get invited to deer camp.
Large hunting clubs with big buck reputations don’t appear out of thin air. They require dedicated, disciplined members who share the common desire to shoot mature bucks. If your state has imposed antler restrictions, you can bet these clubs have even stricter criteria for what defines a shooter buck. They typically detail this criteria by an overall score of inches or by spread width and main beam length. Because there’s no way to precisely score a deer on the hoof, clubs might exhibit some grace on deer closely in that range. But, unless you want to get blacklisted from camp, err on the side of caution when it comes to shooting a buck.
If the camp imposes a ban on anything below 120 inches or an inside spread of at least 15 inches, make sure it exceeds those criteria before pulling the trigger. If you can’t quickly determine that a buck definitely meets the criteria, let it walk. It’s better to pass than to lose your invite, embarrass the person who brought you, and maybe even pay a fine. Not to mention, passing on a borderline buck shows the members that you have enough knowledge and discipline to maintain their club standards. This could earn you a return trip or a future invite to join. Shooting a small buck will not.
If you’ve ever made the mistake of openly comparing your significant other to a former lover, you know it’s a fast track to a long night (or multiple nights) on the couch. Even the best intentions here come across as ill-timed and unwanted.
The same goes for gloating about a previous deer camp experience while in the company of another. You were graciously invited to hunt deer on land that you didn’t work, not to point out the age of the camp’s ladder stands or the size of food plots you didn’t plant. No one cares that so-and-so’s camp has insulated box blinds with buddy heaters and hot cocoa dispensers or that an average buck there scores 140.
Strategies, suggestions, and unwarranted advice are also big no’s. Trust me, those members have hunted that area for years, and your advice from one weekend of hunting will come across as ignorant at best. And for the love of big bucks everywhere, don’t make any negative comments about taxidermy in the camp house. It’s arrogant and distasteful.
Anyone with an ounce of self-awareness should know that return trips are only on specific and detailed instructions. Even if the camp president says, “Come back anytime,” don’t. That is, don’t come back unless you receive another formal invite or inquire about confirmation beforehand. I don’t care how laid-back or informal the camp seems; showing up unannounced is tacky and assuming. In some cases, it’s downright poaching or even dangerous.
This might seem like a no-brainer, but I once hunted a club on an invite. My friend who invited me had to cancel at the last minute, but he notified the others that I would still be hunting that day. I pinned out on the camp board before daylight and made my way to a stand, thanks to specific instructions and tree tacks. To my surprise, someone was already sitting in the treestand I was supposed to be hunting. Turns out that a local and previous invitee decided to hunt the club that morning without an invitation. We had an awkward, whispered introduction there in the dark before he quickly gathered his things and left. To make matters worse, instead of leaving the way I came, he trampled right through where I expected deer to come from. I told my friend about the whole escapade; that guy hasn’t been back since.
Deer camps represent some of the most enjoyable aspects of hunting. They can provide a sense of community and enjoyment even if you end up eating your tag, which most solo hunting endeavors don’t. If you’re lucky enough to get invited to a good one for little or no fee, make sure you extend the same gratitude you’ve been shown. Oh, and don’t screw it up.