Into the Back Forty: Setting a Deer Cam Where No One’s Been Before

Yesterday me and my boy finally made it into a part of our hunting land that’s been calling my name for a while — thick, tangled bush that nobody’s ever bothered with. It’s one of those spots you always say you’ll check out “one of these days,” but between chores, weather, and life in general, it never quite happens.

This time, we made it happen. The goal was to hang the new SPYPOINT FLEX-S DARK trail camera in an untouched area to see what kind of deer are roaming back there. A bit of exploration, a bit of scouting, and if we were lucky, maybe a grouse or two for supper.

Getting There

We started the morning the way most of my good days start — coffee for me, hot chocolate for him, and that excited quiet you get before a day in the bush. We loaded up the four-wheelers, tossed in the camera gear, a small pack, the .22 rifle, and a thermos. The plan was to ride in as far as we could, then hike the rest.

The first stretch went smooth. The trail winds through old poplar and spruce, dips down through some muddy spots, then opens into a patch of pine. The four-wheelers handled it fine. We rode until we hit what we call the big ditch — a deep, overgrown drainage cut that’s been there since before we bought the land. It’s too rough to cross on wheels, so we parked the ATVs there, threw on our packs, and started north on foot.

Once we crossed the ditch, it got thick fast. The kind of bush that grabs at you from every direction. You take ten steps and have to duck three branches, sidestep a fallen log, and untangle a sleeve from a stubborn alder. Good thing we both wore layers we didn’t mind snagging.

The ground was damp from the week’s rain, and the air had that mix of wet moss, pine, and fall leaves that you only get in northern Ontario woods. It’s the smell of home to me — wild, clean, and a little bit earthy.

Finding the Spot

We hadn’t gone far before the first deer tracks showed up in the soft ground. You can always tell when they’re fresh — the edges are sharp, the print is deep, and there’s a little shine from moisture. My boy spotted them first, which made me grin. It’s a proud moment when your kid starts seeing the land the same way you do.

We followed the trail for a bit, weaving between balsam and birch, until we came into a small clearing — not big enough to call a meadow, but open enough that sunlight was actually hitting the ground. That’s when things got exciting.

The clearing was full of sign — tracks, droppings, and a few solid rubs on the young trees. One of the rubs was fresh enough that the sap was still wet. I pointed it out and said, “That’s this year’s work right there.” He leaned in close, taking it all in. Not far from that, we found a scrape — a bare patch of dirt under a low branch where a buck had been pawing and marking. If you’ve hunted deer, you know how your heart jumps when you find a new scrape line. It’s like reading a note that says, “Yes, I’ve been here, and I’ll be back.”

We stood there quietly for a bit, just taking it in. I told him, “This is the kind of place you’d never know existed unless you walked it. Perfect mix of cover and feed.” You could tell deer were comfortable there — a few trails converged from different directions, one heading toward thicker spruce, another down toward a little dip where water collects after rain.

We decided then and there that this would be the spot for the trail camera.

The Gear

I’ve used a few different cameras over the years, but I picked up the SPYPOINT FLEX-S DARK this fall because I wanted something reliable for the deep bush — something that wouldn’t need babysitting every couple of weeks.

This one’s got a solar panel built in, which is a AWESOME. I’m a fan of low-maintenance gear — once it’s up, it should look after itself. The camera also uses no-glow LEDs, meaning it takes night photos without that tell-tale red flash. Deer won’t spook from it, and I won’t be heading out to find a snapped strap where a curious buck decided to head-butt my camera.

It also connects to the SPYPOINT app, so once it’s live, I get pictures right on my phone. Out here, that’s more than a luxury — it saves time, gas, and a whole lot of walking.

But because we were going so far back, I also brought along the long-range antenna that SPYPOINT sells for these cameras. It’s basically a booster that you can run up a few feet higher to grab a cell signal where your phone barely gets one.

Setting It Up

We picked a solid tree about ten yards off the main deer trail. It had a clear view of the opening, some natural shade from the branches above, and just enough sunlight filtering through to feed the solar panel.

The direction was the trickiest part. Normally I’d face a camera north or northeast to avoid glare, but with the solar panel on top, I needed that sun exposure. So we faced it south, making sure it was tilted just enough to catch the clearing and not the sky.

I strapped it about chest-high — around four feet — and tightened it down. My boy helped line it up while I stepped back to check the view. “A bit left,” I told him. He adjusted it until it framed the trail perfectly.

Then we set up the antenna. That part took a little creativity. I used a nearby birch to run the cable up high, zip-tied it in place, and aimed it toward the general direction of town. I didn’t expect much — we’re miles from the nearest cell tower — but when I turned the camera on and checked the screen, it showed two bars of signal. I couldn’t believe it. Out there, even my phone struggles to send a text, but this camera was online in seconds.

We ran a test shot. The motion sensor blinked, and, when we got back home, my phone buzzed with a picture of the two of us standing there looking like we just built the thing. You couldn’t ask for better proof that it worked.

Extra Bonus: Two Grouse

On the way in, we’d flushed a grouse that nearly scared the life out of me — as they always do. But this time I was ready. My boy spotted another one not long after, sitting on a downed log, and we ended up with two grouse before we even got to the clearing.

I’ve said it before — grouse are the bonus round of any fall outing. You’re out for deer, checking cams, maybe scouting a stand, and there they are, drumming and strutting like they own the place. Quick meal, simple pleasure.

Those two will get cleaned up and pan-fried soon. A little flour, salt, pepper, and butter — that’s all they need.

Why That Spot Matters

I’ve got a few cameras closer to the main trails and fields, but this new one is different. It’s in an area that’s never been pressured. No stands, no scent, no old boot tracks. Just raw bush.

If you hunt or homestead long enough, you start to understand how animals use land differently depending on how much we interfere. Deer, especially older bucks, have a sixth sense for avoiding human areas. They’ll swing wide of a spot where they’ve caught human scent even once.

This new location — north of the big ditch — is quiet country. There’s water nearby, a few scattered oak and poplar patches, and thick spruce cover. It’s got everything a deer needs without the noise of the main trails. I’m betting this is where the big boys move during daylight, especially when rifle season starts and the woods get busier elsewhere.

That’s why the camera’s so valuable. It’s not just about pictures — it’s about understanding patterns. Where they bed, when they travel, how they react to changing weather. It’s the kind of knowledge you build slowly, year after year, until you can almost predict when that buck will show up.

A Quick Note on Solar and Cell

One thing I’ll say — if you’re setting up a camera this far back, solar power and cell service make a world of difference. The FLEX-S DARK’s panel keeps the battery topped up even on cloudy days. I’ve had older cameras die mid-season because I couldn’t get out to swap batteries in time.

And as for the cell connection — that long-range antenna paid for itself the minute it worked. No more hiking miles to pull an SD card in knee-deep snow. Now I can just check the app from home.

If you’re in an area with weak reception, that antenna’s worth the money. We tested it in a few spots, and it held signal even where my phone dropped completely.

The Walk Back

Once everything was strapped, tested, and synced, we packed up and headed out. The walk back felt easier somehow, even though it was the same bush. That’s always how it goes — the first trip in is a fight, the way out is a stroll.

We stopped a few times to mark the route with orange tape, just enough to find it again later without leaving a highway of flagging. The kid carried the grouse, proud as can be, and I carried the thermos, which somehow still had a bit of coffee left.

When we got back to the ditch and saw the four-wheelers waiting, it felt good. The day had gone exactly right — no stuck machines, no dead batteries, no surprises other than good ones.

Back at the Homestead

By the time we got home, the sun was dipping low and the air had that bite that tells you frost isn’t far off. We cleaned the grouse, recharged the thermos with something hot, and sat down to talk about the day.

He’s at that age where these kinds of trips stick. He’ll remember the thick bush, the deer sign, the feeling of finding something new. I remember going with my own dad years ago, doing almost the same thing — same smell of spruce, same crunch of leaves, same satisfaction of being out there.

It’s funny how the gear changes — now it’s solar panels and cell signals instead of 35mm film and D-cell batteries — but the reason we go out there stays the same.

What’s Next

Now comes the waiting game. The camera’s doing its thing, sending photos back whenever something moves through. I’ll let it sit for a week or two before checking in, but I already know there’s something worth watching back there. The scrapes and rubs were too fresh to be random.

If all goes well, we’ll catch a few good deer moving in daylight and maybe start planning a stand before the snow sets in.

Either way, the camera’s in, the solar’s charging, and the antenna’s connected. That’s a win in my book.

I love this lifestyle

Every time we go into the bush, I’m reminded why I love this lifestyle. It’s not about making everything easy — it’s about doing things yourself, learning as you go, and passing that knowledge down.

That new camera will tell us what lives back there, sure — but the real story is the one we made walking in. Two grouse, a pile of deer sign, a working cell signal in the middle of nowhere, and a good day spent together.

Sometimes that’s all a man needs: a bit of work, a bit of wild, and someone to share it with.

We’ll check that camera soon and see what’s moving around where no one’s been before. And if we catch anything good — you can bet I’ll post an update.