The ups and downs of a buck named Bruiser.

Early November - Rut Report - Illinois

The last entry I had commented about the alarming lack of mature deer to be found.  Since that time an old friend had shown himself.

Flash back to 2011...November 8, 2011, A trail cam picture revealed a deer that my son Cannon....5 at the time, named Bruiser, after his busted up rack and rough looking face and head.  Perhaps it was not the most fitting name as the easiest way to identify this deer was his floppy ears in all his photos, but Cannon chose the name and from that day forward he was known to us as Bruiser.  It was the first I had seen of him on camera, but I had a history with this deer from 2010, only a couple sightings, and at the time...I was so excited about a mature deer on this heavily pressured property that I told no one, but I knew in my heart it was the same deer.  From that day forward, I tracked pictures, plotted maps, and figured out his travel patterns and preferences.  My first hunt, I came close, he bedded just 100 yards away, and I even passed a fine 140" class deer that I believed was 3.5 years old...just because I wanted this specific deer.  You see, I believed him to be 5.5 years old in 2011, and for me he just tripped my trigger...he was not the biggest deer, but the character of the wide simple rack and the floppy ears was just my thing.  Finally just before the Illinois gun season in 2011, I had him pinpointed and was waiting for him, when my best laid plans were foiled by a person walking in to hunt without permission at 7:30 A.M.! That was the last contact I had with Bruiser until October 2012.

One of the first pictures of Bruiser - 5.5 years old

Back to 2012:  On October 21, 2012, He appeared on camera again for the first time since November of 2011.  He sported the same floppy ears, and managed to keep both his brow tines this year, yet he was missing a kicker off his right side G2.  Seeing that picture rekindled my obsession and I went to work immediately adjusting my plan and approach. 

After being spooked Bruiser finally reappeared almost a year later!

I hunted when I could and made sure to play the wind correctly and carry myself as if I was hunting on egg shells...so as not to spook my old nemesis out of the area.  Though I tried my best, I had yet to see him during daylight.  November hit, and the pictures continued to portray the stuff of legend...a deer that left the bedding area at midnight, and returning between 3:00 A.M. and 4:00 A.M. every day.  Even as the chase phase began to hit, he remained a nocturnal ghost. 

On November 6, 2012, amid 40 degree weather and spitting rain, I climbed a tree midday overlooking a secluded food plot connected to his favorite bedding area.  The day met with great deer activity including an intense chase between a definite shooter deer and two smaller deer and one very unhappy doe.  Those deer teased me and for several moments as they ran circles through the woodlot, I thought to myself, I hope he doesn't give me a shot, or I may have to kill him instead of Bruiser.  I know silly right...but, I just had a thing for this particular deer.  It boiled down simply to this...I wanted this specific deer.  As the light faded that night I thought about the chase I had seen, and wondered why a deer that had been in the area for at least three years and appeared to me to be a 6.5 year old this year, would not be right in the mix.  Was the old warrior losing his edge against the younger 4.5 year olds, did he get run from the area when the rut began?

Little did I know as I walked out with nothing but the mist and my thoughts...that my answer would come on November 9, 2012.

I guess I should point out that my primary hunting spot is a 60 acre tract that has less than 40 acres of timber.  It is heavily pressured by the neighbors and in fact, one neighbor had already harvested two immature bucks in the past week that I had passed this year. The land is owned by my father in law and I am greatful everyday that he lets me hunt.  In addition to myself, my father in law allows a good friend of his, named Irv hunt the property.  Though Irv did not typically pass on younger deer, I had asked if he would at least make an effort to kill a doe or a 3.5 year old buck.  Though he made a few comments to my father in law about being hungry, Irv did pass several juvenile deer over the first few weeks.  Each day we would trade reports through my father in law and it became almost a daily thing for him to call and check in with me either to give or take a report. 

After a short hunt on a different farm on that morning I begrudgingly went to the office to catch up on some work.  The phone call that ended this saga came a short time later, when my father in law called.  I expected it to be another daily report, but he was calling to let me know that Irv killed "a big 9."  I immediately hopped in the truck to go to the farm and see the deer.  Not once did I think it may be Bruiser...hell he never shows himself in the daylight, even during the rut.  I also always considered him a main frame 8, so the thought was not even in my head.  As I walked up to Irv and my father in law, I noted the huge body size of the deer, and immediately I thought to myself...well it is definitely mature!  As soon as I could see the rack I immediately recognized the deer from the binder of photos, the online albums of photos, and my dreams...and nightmares..I would recognize Bruiser anywhere.  A flood of emotion ran over me...it was really the first deer that I have had real history with that met its demise somewhere other than at the end of one of my own arrows. 

I told them it was Bruiser, and gave them a brief history of the deer...and my father in law asked if I was mad that Irv shot him.  I told him no way...he did exactly what we planned to do and my hope was that in the future mature deer will become the norm and not the exception.  Since I was already there, I quickly checked my trail cams...and guess who made one final appearance on his typical early morning venture:

The morning before...

As is the case often in November, ole Bruiser met his maker while following a hot doe.  His final picture was his first in the daylight for nearly a full year...

Irv with his deer - Harvested 11/9/12

The saving grace of a doe and herd management...

October 6, 2012 - Bowhunt report


After a slow couple hunts in the opening week, the first weekend of Illinois bow season met with cooler than average temperatures and perfect winds for me to slide into a stand I affectionately call the "hurt locker" due to a number of injuries that occurred to myself and my son while setting the stand in August.

Despite being skunked on 2 of my first 3 hunts the clear sky, 37 degree temp and steady west/nw winds had me optimistic.  As shooting time arrived and nothing was happening in the deer woods, my optimism began to wane a bit, but by 7:00 A.M. I had spotted my first movement.  A doe group moved across in front of me 100 yards out or so before turning and crossing the field I was set up on just out of range.  That opened the flood gates, as no more than 20 minutes went by at any one time without a deer sighting.  I had deer at all points of the compass around the stand, with a majority of antlerless deer being constantly harrassed by three smaller bucks that were chasing them all over the timber. On three occasions I came close to a shot but it just seemed like the deer wanted to cross into the timber just out of range.  This action continued through 10 a.m. when  doe and a very large button buck came in and bedded within 35 yards of the stand.  I watched them for 30 minutes before a doe I had not spotted walked in behind me and busted me moving, sounding the alarm they exited the area and I climbed down and snuck out in time to make a soccer game in town.  All tallied I had seen 30+ antlerless deer and 3 different bucks (some several times over the morning).

On the way out I scouted a sight closer to the days action for a climber and made a plan for the following morning.

October 7, 2012: The saving grace of a doe...

I enjoy every moment from first spotting a deer to watching that arrow disappear behind the shoulder and it matters not if it were a buck or a doe.  I set goals for myself of harvesting mature deer and not by score.  I consider myself an equal oppurtunity bowhunter, and I relish for the chance to kill those does for my freezer that my family enjoys so much throughout the year.  So this summer/early fall, I have monitored trail cameras heavily and on my in-laws farm where I spend most of my time, I have seen an alarming rate of almost 80 to 20 doe to buck percentage...that's 4-1 for those counting.  So with little or no mature bucks to speak of on camera or spotted, I set my heart on taking a mature doe with my new bow.

Climber in tow and another uncharacteristic 38 degree october morning, I settled in about 20 feet up in the tree I had scouted in the previous days hunt.  Unlike yesterday, the morning winds were non existent for the first hour, it was dead calm and relatively nothing was moving.  I finally spotted some does and a small buck from yesterday in the far end of the field.  This is the part I love about deer hunting.  It had been an hour since I saw or heard a thing and I was in the process of planning an early departure when I glanced up to see a doe headed directly at me on the field edge.  Perched above a dry slough 20 yards off the field edge, all I needed to do was stand up and wait.  My heart rate jumped up and my breathing coincided (doe fever I guess), as she closed the distance and stopped as I came to full draw.  The arrow found its mark and she crashed down just a 60 yards away.  Just like that the first deer of the year was down and the season was up and running with a great first week!

1st deer of 2012

Cannon's first tree stand hunt...short hunt long story as usual.

The spring turkey season is far in the rear view, and I have let the faithful followers of my little blog down with a summer of nothing.  No writing, no reports, nothing.  I honestly hit a bit of a funk for writing, with two kids, a soccer business and my "real" job pulling me in several different directions, by the time I was ready to sit down and type, I was more ready to hit the sack. 

I did manage to continue to prepare for this fall, with a new bow that was a warranty replacement after problems with my last bow, I was ready already thinking about whitetails, long before the summer days were beginning to shorten.  Stands were prepped, climbing stand locations set, and trail cams out.  Since July I have monitored two farms that I spend the majority of my time on.  One is a very small farm near my home and the other is my in-laws farm.  For the first time in many years, we were able to take advantage of dry conditions in the bottoms and get approximately 1/2 acre of wheat and forage radishes planted.  Coming off the severe drought here in central IL (and most of the Midwest), that tiny field is proving to be quite the attractant for deer looking for something green to forage on.  The remaining ag fields on that farm are now in the CREP program and the deer hunting should only improve from here on out.

Flash forward...or is it backward...to the opening of bow season in IL.  The opener was uneventful, but on October 4, 2012, I got the joy of spending an afternoon in a tree stand with my oldest son Cannon.  At age 6, it was his first hunt from a stand, and we were both excited to try out the new safety line/prussic knot system, and the safety harness.  The hunt was short and sweet, but a great joy.  We snuck in after school and climbed into a buddy stand that a friend loaned us, and enjoyed father son time while we waited.  Cannon had free reign on this stand, he chose the location and I must say he made me proud.  He picked a nice walnut tree on the edge of a waterway connecting two small fields.  A natural funnel, with a creek bed behind us and another small ditch dividing a corn field and clover field on our North side.

Shortly after enjoying a snack of fruit by the foot, we had our first visitor as a mature doe worked behind the stand just out of range.  I have previously spoke about youths and hunting and specifically Cannon, who is my running experiment and as I have noted others great advice, I always make the hunt about him.  It was his call on any shot we may face, and though I make a habit of letting anything younger than 4.5 walk in the buck category, I was prepared to shoot anything that he chose.  I noticed the doe and tapped Cannon on the leg to let him know she was there, he leaned around my side of the stand and his eyes lit up when he saw the deer.  He immediately said "shoot her" but she was just out of range.  Unfortunately a random rain shower cut our trip short, and as we climbed down to head for the truck at sunset we spotted three more does in the field, heading towards our location.  I elected to avoid a blood trail in the rain and we exited the premises. 

Overall, the hunt was a positive experience that left him wanting more.  I have always taken that approach, much like training a puppy (my wife would scold me if reading this), I treat Cannon the same way, make it positive, let him want more and as always let it be about him.  He is truly a "no pro" outdoorsman in training.

Cannon on stand for the first time with dad enjoying a snack!

Recommended Read - Great Family, Great Story

 Please enjoy a moving article by my friend Rob Heiden.  The following story is receiving national attention with interest from the NCAA and ESPN.

A long summer and two incredible young men part 1 - by Rob Heiden

With the Prospect League baseball season just around the corner, and our season tickets now in hand.  I thought I would reflect on last year’s incredible season.
For those who are not familiar with the Prospect League, it is made up of baseball players in their freshman thru junior years of Collage. There are 8 Teams in the East, and 8 Teams in the West. The Quincy Gems are in the West, and they are our hometown team. The Prospect league is a wood bat league, and the players are from colleges all over the country. They are some of the best players in college baseball.
Starting in 2008, Bryce and I have attended most every home game. My daughter Erin joined us in 2009, and we watched the Gems win the very first Prospect league championship that year. And both of my kids have had favorite players during the first couple of years.  But, at the end of each year, they are disappointed that the players leave, not to be seen again. Bryce snagged 1 signed ball in 2009, and another in 2010, but not much player/fan involvement in the first couple of years.
Little did we know going into the 2011 season that things were going to be different. Like the previous years, Bryce wanted to get to the ball park early. Before each game he staked out a little spot next to the dugout, from there he could talk to and occasionally fist pound a random player. But, this only worked when we got to the ballpark about an hour before the game. The chance to interact was pretty much gone once game time got closer, more kids would show up and the players had a job to do. This went on for much of the early season, and the players gave Bryce the occasional baseball, and sometimes a fist pound.

Bryce and Jordan talking before a Gems game.

After about 10 to 15 home games, Bryce caught the eye of a junior pitcher from West Chester, Pa. his name was Jordan Lehman. Jordon started to talk to, play pranks on, and befriend Bryce. Little did Jordan know that Bryce had Type 1 diabetes, he was just showing a young baseball player/fan a good time. Then, one game while Bryce was in “his” spot, Jordan asked him a question, I was too far to hear what was asked. Bryce headed up to the stands, directly to me. He wanted to know if he could go on the field with Jordan. I looked at Jordan; he seemed to be up for it. So, Bryce went out on the field and warmed up with the team, although mostly Jordan. They played pitch and catch, and Bryce fielded some pop flies. As game time approached, Bryce headed off the field to ask me a second question. “Could he sit in the dugout during the game?” he asked. Not knowing how the coaches and players would react to a 7 year old in the dugout, I reluctantly said ok. Bryce headed for the dugout; it was now time for the National Anthem. Then it hit me. What was his blood numbers? How will I get him food? How will I get his insulin in him? Did he have insulin on board, and if he did how much? As, the national anthem started I noticed that Bryce was right in the middle of the lineup of college players, as if he was their teammate. It was one of my prouder moments of being a parent, seeing him out on that field.
I thought to myself that is was pretty neat that a college ball player would take the time to make a little 7 year old boy so happy. Bryce must have thought he was in the big leagues, although it’s hard to know how a 7 year old was thinking about the experience.

National Anthem time!

Once the pregame was over, the players headed to the dugout, Bryce was right behind them. All I could see was the top of his Gems hat as he sat in the dugout watching the game. Jordan, being a reliever headed to the bullpen bench to watch the game.
Around the end of the third inning, Bryce stood up on the dugout bench and looked out towards me, he looked sad or unhappy I couldn’t tell which. I motioned him to come out of the dugout and head up to me, in the stands. He headed out between innings and made his way up to my seat. He was hungry. So we checked his blood, got him some food, and shot him up with Insulin. He headed back to the field gate to rejoin “his teammates”. However, the girls keeping an eye on the gate didn’t know he was invited into the dugout. They wouldn’t let him back in. Bryce was pretty upset for the rest of the game, he wanted to go home!
The next night, we decided to head to Hannibal, Mo. To watch the Gems take on the Cavemen. Hannibal is less than 20 miles from Quincy, so we drove down to the road game. We entered the ballpark, and found our seats. We got there early, like we always do, so
Bryce headed to the Gems dugout. It seemed like several of the players remembered him, and they took turns talking to him and stealing his hat. Then, Jordan talked to Bryce, and here he come. He came to me to ask if he could sit in the dugout. I agreed, and since the dugout was more accessible, food and insulin weren’t a problem in Hannibal.

Hanging with the Gems in Hannibal, Mo.

After the National Anthem, were Bryce stood in formation as a Gems player, I noticed that he put a batting helmet on. Since the visitors bat first the first Gems batter went to the plate. After the first at bat, Bryce headed out to retrieve the bat; the Gems had made Bryce their bat boy for the evening. It was a pretty great site to watch him recover bats for his favorite ball team. The Gems went on to win in an 11 inning game, I got Bryce fed and shot up with insulin, and he didn’t miss a single chance to be bat boy.
Over the next few weeks Bryce spent every home game in the dugout with the team. He either warmed up with the team, before the game. Or, he helped Jordan drag the field on the golf cart. He had become part of the team, although he didn’t hit, pitch, or field. Several players made comments about Bryce being their lucky charm. Bryce and I even worked out a hand signal system for him to tell me what he needed (food, drink, felt low, etc.…). The gate girls figured out that he was supposed to be in the dugout, so he could come out and eat, then go back in. Gems were winning, I had a 7 year old who thought he was in the big leagues, and life was good. Or so we thought.

Part 2:
 A long summer and two incredible young men- part 2


What I didn’t realize at the time, but learned the hard way was, we were wearing ourselves out. I would work all day, hurry home to get Bryce and Erin, and then rush to the ballpark. The kids were out of school, so their schedules were pretty much sleep till noon, eat lunch, and wait for me to get them for the game. They weren’t eating as much as they should, which meant they weren’t getting the insulin they should. They were skipping Breakfast, plus spending a lot of time in the summer heat at the ballpark.
This all caught up with us one Saturday morning with about a month left in the Gems season. Bryce woke up with a stomach ache. His blood numbers were in the 140’s so we didn’t worry about ketones. Within hours, he started vomiting, and was unable to keep anything down. After hours of fighting it, he just kept getting worse. We took him to the ER, and they started him on fluids and meds for the vomiting. The meds didn’t work, and he kept vomiting, so they did some blood work. His BG had been in the 120-140 range the whole day, but his blood looked dark, almost like BBQ sauce. They determined he was in DKA, the problem was they were unable to treat him. They told us that if we could get ahold of his Dr. and get an order to treat, that they would. Otherwise, they were going to have to airlift him to Springfield, IL or St. Louis, Mo.. We were unable to get ahold of his Dr.. So, we were left with an airlift, we decided St. Louis. My wife and I had talked many times in the years since Bryce’s diagnosis about transferring care to St. Louis, we just never had. But, now we were going to have to make some decisions.

This is what DKA looks like!

The ER Dr.’s consulted St. Louis Children’s Hospital, gave them Bryce’s vitals and blood gas readings. It was determined that Children’s Hospital would send an ambulance up to get Bryce. And, and insulin drip was started. I posted on my Facebook page about what was happening with Bryce. Wouldn’t you know it, the first one to respond to the post was Jordan. This was the first time he had an clue that Bryce was “different” or special. This impressed me, Jordan not only takes the time to interact with Bryce on the field, but he cares off the field about Bryce.
Bryce gradually got better over the following days, we took diabetes education classes. And, 3 days later we were headed back home. My wife and I felt really bad that we didn’t know what signs we were looking for that previous Saturday morning. And, I have beaten myself up over it many times since. However, I have come to the conclusion that our previous Dr. had not provided us with enough diabetes education.  I will be posting more on the previous Dr. in future posts, especially Bryce’s diagnosis story. We have changed both of our kids over to St. Louis Children’s Hospital Diabetes Team, it is worth it to us to make 4 trips a year for real endocrinologists.
Almost 2 weeks after Bryce got out of the hospital, and regaining some strength and weight, we returned to the ballpark. Bryce went right back to field duty with Jordan and sitting in the dugout for the games. We then went to all of the remaining home games.

Bryce throwing the first pitch!

The Gems ended the year with the best record in the league, which meant they hosted the championship game; a one game winner takes all type of deal. Like always we got there early, and Bryce went right on the field. I remember telling him that this game might be different and that he may not get to be on the field. But, he went right out, right back to his team. Several minutes passes, and Jordan came to the fence, he motioned for me to come down. I went down to the fence where Jordan asked me if Bryce could throw out the first pitch. I was full of pride on the inside, and told Jordan that it was ok with me. Jordan invited me out on the field with Bryce for the first pitch. He threw a strike right to Jordan. I left the field, and Bryce joined the team for the National Anthem. He then climbed thru the railing and into his spot on the bench.

Jordan and Bryce after the Championship game.

The Gems won that game, and Bryce was on the field for their celebration.  After the celebration died down a little and the fans were let on the field, my wife, Erin, and I joined Bryce.  Jordan had one more surprise left for Bryce’s magical year, he gave Bryce a bat signed by every member of the championship team.
As I write this Jordan is finishing his college career at West Chester, they are headed to the playoffs. I don’t know if I will ever see him again, but I am grateful for everything he did for Bryce. Bryce is a more confident young man with a big heart and special needs, who is better today because of the attention given him by one college player and one special team.

Bryce throwing the first pitch!

This is what DKA looks like!

Championship Tickets!

Erin with her favorite Gem.

Jordan celebrating.

Dog Pile!

Waiting for the final Out!

Bryce and Chickenman showing off the signed bat.

Kind of a lost look on his face, but the only non-Gem on the field for the celebration.

Mr. Burton proves there is more than one way to skin a...turkey.

Enjoy a recent story from friend Mr. Burton, showing location and patience can be just as successful as running and gunning:

 

"I am not a good turkey hunter to say the least.  I don't listen for gobbles and chase turkeys through the woods but generally set up and wait.  I have hunted and killed several turkeys but sometimes it seems more like luck than skill.  This season might be case in point.  I was able to hunt the first day of my permit but due to family commitment I was unable to hunt the next two days.  I had third season south zone - Friday April 20 thru Wednesday April 25.

 

The first day hunt was filled with high expectation.  I had seen turkeys in this field during the youth turkey season.  Plenty of hens and toms around then.  I put out my lone hen decoy and waited patiently for the turkeys to come.  I heard gobbles in the woods behind me and beside me like I expected but as the sun came up they didn't come into my field like I expected.  In fact there was only one lone hen to cross the field all morning.  I was persistent and stayed where I set up early expecting the tom to come out any second.  No such luck.  Long morning waiting and watching. 

 

A quick note here - I am traveling about 62 miles from where I am staying to where I am hunting.  The route goes through eight little towns so is somewhat slow going.  I was getting up at 3:00am to get to the hunting site and in position by 5:30am.  Now that may seem like a boring run but my only thoughts were on the hunt and the turkeys.  Always second guessing the plan made yesterday.  Trying to think of a new technique or strategy to get a nice turkey in range.  Always wondering if I am calling too much or not enough. 

 

The second day I was able to hunt I set up along the edge of a woods looking over a planted corn field.  The corn is up a couple of inches.  About 60 yards into the field from where I am situated is a grass waterway which is about 20 to 30 yards wide.  In the early light I heard gobbles from six or seven different toms.  They were located all around me and now I am really excited.  I had put out two hen decoys and one jake decoy.  Again it seemed like forever before I saw the first turkey.  And of course it was a hen.  It was about 125 yards across the field from me.  Looked at the decoys but other than look there was no action.  At approximately 7:00 I saw the first tom of the day.  It was across the field and simply walked out into and across the corn field without so much as a serious look at my decoys.  Then at 7:30 another tom came out of the woods this time much closer to me.  He saw my decoys and looked but no other action.  He simply walked along the other side of the grass waterway without paying any attention to lonely ole me.  But when he was about even with me in the field there were two toms and a hen coming across the corn field toward the grass waterway.  The one tom coming saw the one walking along the waterway and immediately charged toward that tom.  Of course the one walking the waterway took off running.  The other tom didn't chase too far and rejoined his buddy and the hen.  They walked to the woods but didn't enter then walked back pretty much from the direction they came.  This was the beginning of a slow parade of 8 toms and 7 hens to walk along the other side of the waterway from me and all the time paying absolutely no attention to my decoys.  The wind was making the decoys turn a little bit once in a while which I thought was good but apparently not good to the turkeys.  There was one very exciting part to the morning when I happened to notice movement immediately to my right.  It was a hen of course but she was only about 4 or 5 yards from my position.  She walked out to the closest hen decoy and pecked it then walked around it and fluffed up like she was going to flog it.  There were actually two hens but I didn't see the other one until they were walking away.  At 12:30pm I had had enough!  I picked up the decoys and gave up the day.  But I did retrieve my ground blind from the truck and put it up in the grass waterway!

 

The very next morning I got in the blind with full expectation.  This time I thought I would try for that aggressive tom so put up my strutting tom and hen decoy pair.  Again there were gobbles all around.  In the ground blind and wearing Walker hearing protection I am unsure of the exact direction they come from but judge from the volume how close they are.  There were two that were close for sure.  And of course the gobbles off in the distance that make me always second guess where I have set up my decoys for the morning.

 

Seemed like forever before I even saw a turkey.  The sun had come up and my decoys were making shadows.  I still hadn't seen a turkey.  Then I happened to notice two hens in the weeds across the corn field.  The weeds are tall enough only the heads were visible.  They disappeared quickly into the weeds.  Then at 7:15am  finally a tom stepped out of the woods at the end of the cornfield.  He was about 125 yards away.  But he noticed the decoys right away.  He strutted and gobbled several times moving very very slowly in my direction.  I don't believe he was the tom that challenged the bird from yesterday.  Could have been the bird that was challenged for all I know.  But he did keep strutting and gobbling and slowly ever so slowly moving my direction.  He had come probably 20 yards closer when a hen came out of the woods between my position and the tom.  Of course I was concerned now.  The hen slowly worked her way away from my position  and the tom was showing interest moving away also.  But it seemed he couldn't keep his eye off the strutting tom decoy.  As it happened the wind had come up in slight gusts.  This of course caused the strutting tom decoy to turn slightly once in a while.  This must have been what kept his interest.  He would strut for the hen then strut and gobble for the decoy.  Quite a show to say the least.  Then the hen walked quickly away from us.  I knew for sure I had lost the tom.  But the tom wouldn't follow and came a few more yards toward us strutting and gobbling.  That caused the hen to turn and come our direction causing my heart to pound a bit harder.  They seemed to move a little quicker once the hen started toward us.  She was kind of feeding or at least pecking at the ground as she came our way.

 

I had used the range finder earlier to determine distance from my shooting position and had decided any tom within a certain area was going to be shot.  This tom was working his way into my shooting area.  Of course the ground blind has small windows to view and shoot from.  He was coming from my right so I shouldered the shotgun left handed thinking he would come only so close and stop.  But as luck would have it he kept moving toward the decoys.  Now the decision..........   I pulled the shotgun barrel back into the blind and changed to right shoulder pushed the barrel back out the window and the tom turkey was out there in my shooting area.  I didn't wait to see if he would come to the decoys or suddenly change his mind and take off after the hen so I shot him.  He was 32 yards away from the blind.  Of course the analysis after the shot - I should have waited to see what he was going to do and I would have seen more strutting and maybe a gobble closer.  He must have gobbled 25 times in his travel from the woods to the shooting area.  I saw him first at 7:15 and shot him at 7:40.  It was quite a show to say the least with many changes in anticipation.  The hen sure changed the equation for a while but I think eventually she worked to my advantage when she came back to the tom and kept moving my direction.  

 

See what I mean by more luck than skill?"

 

Mr. Burton with his turkey 11 1/4" beard, 1 1/8" spurs, 21 lbs 3 oz!

 

Ending on a high note with bird number 3 in 2012!

After striking out repeatedly on a bird I nicknamed Hakuna, I spent a couple days chasing birds on public land with my buddy Carl, where we came five yards short of a shot at a massive super wary public bird.  Day 2 met with horrible weather and we were cut short on our hunting with nothing to show but a few hours of story telling.  The day ended with me calling a bird into a field on the neighbors ground, giving me hope for the final hunt of the year.

Earlier this year I had asked a duck hunting buddy, Jeff if he would be interested in hunting the final weekend of 4th season in Illinois with me, given we had not had the pleasure of a hunt together in almost two years and we had only been on one previous turkey hunt.

Jeff could only hunt one morning, so the pressure was on and though I wanted to go after Hakuna again, I decided to overlook my obsession and head for some newer ground that was untested.  After gaining recent permission, plans were set and we met on Sunday morning for 20 minute drive to our destination.  The morning was calm, muggy and 78 degrees before dawn.  We eased across the first field to the pasture and I whispered to Jeff that this entire farm screamed turkeys but for some reason I only heard them in one general area, and never on the side we were on, despite how great the habitat looked.  We eased into my planned set up where I had recently heard birds and as we were setting up, the first bird opened up with a loud gobble...directly behind us, right where we had just came from.  I began internally kicking myself for not waiting for the birds to gobble, but I still felt good about our set up.  I decided to stay put.  The bird was in a pasture directly behind us with a strip of thick trees between us and a deep creek/ravine in the bottom of the strip of timber.  As the bird repeatedly gobbled, a few more birds joined in.  To my surprise there were several to the South, and a few up the hill behind us to the West...also near where we had walked on the way in.

Fly-down approached with the close bird doing a lot of gobbling and the birds to the far south, which I estimated to be 400+ yards away.  I hit the close bird with a quiet tree yelp, and he paused, then gobbled.  I repeated and he did the same thing again.  After he gobbled again on his own, I hit him with a slightly louder tree yelp and he cut me off with a loud gobble.  Again I started thinking, if I had been set up where I sat last week, that bird would be right in front of Jeff right now.  My thoughts were cut short as I heard the unmistakeable sound of a gobbler taking flight...followed shortly by the sound of wind cutting over wings when I glanced up I see this gobbler sailing ABOVE the tree line directly over our heads and into the field!  He hits the ground approximately 100 yards out.  I was sure we had this bird, as I had a very realistic hen decoy out (dsd) and have yet to have a bird not commit to it...until now.  I thought the bird looked strange in the early morning fog, that hung heavy over the bottom, but I could tell by his gobble he was definitely a mature bird.  He had a strange beard that stuck straight out and then dropped down, almost like it had been broken...or he had two beards.  Regardless he started making a wide circle around the decoy, going to half strut and looking hard at the decoy.  All the while the birds to the south had shut up with the exception of one bird that was gobbling every 30 seconds to a minute solid.

The bird continued to circle until he was 100 yards directly across from the hen.  I hit the call now that I was in line with the decoy and the bird, and he immediately gobbled, and went into half strut, he continued this process for a few minutes before turning and circling the opposite direction angling back away from us.  As he moved the far bird continued to gobble and seemed to moving slightly closer.  I decided by the demeanor of the first bird, he was a lost cause and I turned my attention to the bird that was somewhere in the fog some 300+ yards down the field.

Before calling I crawled to the field edge and peaked down to our right where I saw the first bird still standing on the field edge being wary.  I eased back in the brush and told Jeff to be prepared for this bird to sneak in right along the timber line.  It was a tough set up with thick underbrush on the field edge so we had trouble seeing in the direction the new bird was now approaching and the original bird had gone.  I hit one series of yelps on the call and the far bird immediately answered.  I waited a few minutes and hit the call again and he answered again, he was definitely closer.  I whispered to Jeff "he's coming." He gobbled again on his own and seemed to have turned the other direction, so I called again and he hammered, this time I estimated him to be 150 yards out.  I hit him one more time and he again hammered, sounding even closer.

I knew based on the terrain he could see the decoy so I decided to shut up.  He never gobbled again, so I had a hunch he was on his way.  About one minute later and I hear the awesome sound of a gobbler drumming.  I whisper to Jeff that is what is going on and he has to be close!!!  A few seconds later and I see a tail fan through the brush to our right and the big ole gobbler appears in full strut, spitting and drumming right to the decoy.  He had us pinned at 15 yards as he headed from right to left to the decoy.  Jeff was frozen with gun down as the bird continued to spit, drum, and strut right in our faces moving slowly to the decoy and putting on a show!  My heart was pounding and I wasn't even hunting, as I whispered to Jeff to let him turn away and pull the gun up, the bird suddenly turned and as Jeff pulled the gun up, he turned back directly at us, still in full strut!!!  Jeff was frozen with gun half up and I could see it shaking slightly as we both hoped the bird would spin with his back to us.  Finally for a split second the bird blocked his own view with his tail fan and as Jeff shouldered the gun, he turned facing directly at us in full strut at 15 yards!!!  I was screened at this point by a bush and watched Jeff as the shot rang out!  I noted he wasn't jacking a second shell in and just like that the celebration began!!!

The author and Jeff with his bird.

Jeff's first longbeard turned out to be a stud bird.  22 lbs 4 oz, 10" beard and 1 7/16", 1 8/16" spurs!!!
NWTF score: 71.625

A legend in the making - naming a turkey!

 For several years, I like many turkey hunters have named birds that we had great duels with.  For me however, a name is a curse, I have never killed a bird that I named.  I avoid it like the plague now, but every once in a while one still earns a name.  These are my journal entries from the past 7 days and the story as how this bird earned its name.

April 23, 2012:

My dad and I started after a bird I had heard several times in a creek bottom. I called fairly aggressively and he was definitely responding to my calls on the roost, but when he flew down he was on the far side of the creek. At times he would get to where he sounded just out of sight in the bottom, then he would turn and walk back the other way. Never going 20 minutes without gobbling.

I continued occasional calling as I tried to decide what to do when a lone hen came in and jumped up on the gate on the fence before crossing over to talk to the DSD decoy. I finally ran her off as the gobbler was working the other direction and we worked across the creek to head after him. He was moving East down the bottom and we set up on him 3 additional times, but he would never come back towards us. We slid up to the edge of a field and just as we were within 10 yards of setting up, I spotted him right on the crest of the hill. Big ole longbeard in full strut. He noticed us but didn't spook. He had us pinned down just standing like statues for several minutes before he finally went over the hill. Dad slid up to a tree and I was on my back in the weeds behind him with the decoy in front of me. Hit the call and no answer. Hit the call again...no answer. Finally cut and he hammered back at us. But instead of moving towards us I hear him fly a ditch and walk south into the next cornfield over. I can see him over there, and for the next 15 minutes he would answer me, but never budged. An old veteran bird for sure. He was safe in the open and he knew the hen should be coming.

Headed for another farm, where we did not hear any gobbling, but got the treat of the season for me. My six year old Cannon was sitting in my gobbler lounger and whispered to me that he heard something walking. He used his voice to yelp and was immediately answered by a hen. Before I know it there is a loan hen standing five yards away exchanging hen talk with my boy! It was classic, cannon would yelp, the hen would cluck and purr and cannon would imitate.

April 26, 2012:

Based on scouting and hunting, I knew that big bird from the first day was hitting the ground and going to the same field on regular basis. So this day we got in early and set in his field and waited for him. He gobbled on schedule and then flew down...and went to a different location.

We moved into a ravine and he gobbled just up on the hill, less than 150 yards, so we set up in the timber. He shut up for about 10 minutes and the next time he gobbled he was quite a ways away in the next draw over. We hustled that way , I just knew he was headed to the field again and just as we were rounding a bend, he gobbled in the field, headed right at us. He was coming too fast and we had to just lay down in the grass. We set up my gobbler lounger and dad hid behind it with his gun rested on the back of it. The bird gobbled again and I just had to lay flat on the ground with the decoy still on my back!

I hit the call 4 notes, he gobbled and appeared at the crest of the field. Looking right at us. There was nothing we could do. He strutted and gobbled and strutted and gobbled with the rising sun on him. Beautiful sight. As we lay there caught in the open getting attacked by gnats, he finally lost interest and headed back towards the timber. He is just an old bird that knows the hen is supposed to come to him. We didn't hear him or any other bird again.

April 27, 2012:

Dad's season was over so I went in after that big bird again. Crept in down the ridge and set up on an opening in the bottom. The bird gobbled at 5:15 A.M. and he was directly down my gun barrell approximately 70 yards away. He gobbled heavily as always and just before fly down I hit a very quiet tree call on my slate. He immediately double gobbled. Then I heard clucking and looked to see a loan hen, headed directly to where he was at, still in the tree. He gobbled 3 times from the ground and then I did not hear him. I assumed he was breeding that hen, he finally gobbled again and was just past a brush pile still about 70 yards away, but seemed to be working my way. I hit one quiet series on the mouth call and he answered.

15 minutes with no sound at all, I am just waiting to catch a glimpse of a white head coming through the dark timber...when I suddenly hear multiple alarm putts, and see two turkeys jump up and fly towards me, obviously spooked by something. The gobbler went to my right, the hen to my left....I never saw a person, but I suspect it was a neighboring hunter trying to move in on the bird, but it could of been a yote.

Headed for another farm, set up in the bottom pasture near the ditch that leads into neighbors creek. Hit the call and immediately heard a faint gobble. It was extremely windy so I wasn't sure how far out it was, but of course it was across the fence, across the deep creek, and in the neighbors field. Hit the box call again and he gobbled closer but still faint. Waited a few minutes and I hit the call and he HAMMERED right behind me 40 yards away right on the field edge. I started convincing myself that maybe he would fly the creek and fence...when I suddenly catch movement to my right...and see a hen pop out. She walks right to the DSD and purrs at it a bit then starts feeding less than 15 yards from me. He gobbles again and seems like he is right on top of me, but still across the fence and creek...directly behind me...when the unthinkable happens...I hear a cracking sound, and then out of nowhere a TREE falls to the ground with a huge crash. The hen freaks out but stays put, but I never heard the gobbler again for an hour.

I went running and gunning and at about 12:30 I decided to head back to the same spot just for the heck of it. Hit the call and was answered immediately....in the same darn field. He wasn't making much ground this time so I let him be and headed out at 1 p.m. quitting time. At that particular spot I had visited four times and had turkeys in the neighbors field four times. Time to find permission!!!

April 28, 2012:

Wanted to get that big bird off my so I headed for a farm where Hollywood killed his bird, that is traditionally our best turkey farm...

Started the morning out set up on the field where Hollywood killed his bird. Did not hear a single gobble, only one hen which later flew down to the North and headed towards the sycamore tree area. The highlight of the morning was a pair of young bucks that both came in and sniffed the DSD decoy. Packed up early and headed for the big bird. The bird was gobbling on his own. Made an aggressive move to get in there, called and he hammered to me, but left the timber and went straight to the open field (his main move). I was easing in and he continued to gobble from his favorite field. I was within 150 yards when a bunch of deer jumped up and ran right across the field he was in. He did not make another sound. I had soccer for Cannon today so had to quit at 9:30

April 29, 2012:

Started out on the farm I nicknamed mission impossible because the birds are always on the neighbors. Heard two birds gobble near the north end of the neighbors ground, and was seeing a bunch of lightning. With no birds on the property I jumped in the truck and headed back towards home hoping to miss the storm by moving 20 miles north. By the time I got into big bird country, he was in his favorite field gobbling at thunder. I moved in and got all the way to his field. He gobbled just over the crest, I was able to set the DSD and get hidden. I let him gobble 3 more times before I made any calls, then I made one quiet series of calls. He did not respond. I waited 15 minutes and he gobbled again and sounded slightly farther away. I hit the call again, he did not respond. 10 more minutes and he gobbles in the timber across the field. I am thinking classic old bird tactic, he is gonna circle and take a peek.

SIDE BAR: To summarize this bird...he has gone to same spot in same field every day except the one day we set up there. When called to he leaves the timber and goes to the open field and gobbles his butt off. At this point...I start thinking a thought I have thought for 4 hunts now...this bird is worthy of a name...but I know if I name him, I will never kill him...its just how it works with me. At this point...as he gobbles even farther away, I feel beaten, and think about his tactics...he never worries about going to a hen, he always seems to expect the hen to come to him...and hence the name Hakuna Matata popped in my head. Yes from lion king...and from this day forward he is known as Hakuna to me for short.

Back to the action: Snap out of it, I head for the truck and drive around to the east side of the farm to see where he was headed...and low and behold there is the newly named and immortalized Hakuna standing in the freakin ditch with a hen. I had visions of 14 beards and triple spurs, but I drove within 5 yards of him AS HE GOBBLED. He was standing in the field edge and I could see his spurs and his thick paint brush beard before he ran off. His biggest feature is his body, he is a huge bodied bird. A few fair words for him and I was on my way.

Feeling defeated, I pulled my wild card out, with storms coming and rain everywhere, I decided to head to a distant farm where I rarely hunt but always seem to do well...go figure. The plan was to pop up the blind and just sit in the rain. I drove the 20 minutes to the farm, parked the truck and realized...the blind is in the garage at home. I literally hit 2 series of box calls with no response before is started pouring. I headed back to the truck and drove the 20 minutes back to my house. Visited with the family for a while and then decided, I am gonna make good on a crappy day. Grabbed the blind and decided to go to a farm where I can see far and have seen birds in the rain before.

I packed the blind 2 miles on foot, crossed the fence, and the deep ravine and set up on the field edge. Naturally it was the first day that I haven't seen or heard a bird in that particular field. Lucky for me, I was able to enjoy a lightning storm and heavy rain which pinned me down for over an hour after legal shooting time was over!



To add insult to injury, I obtained permission to hunt a new farm and cannot hunt it again this year due to coaching and family duties.

Just to be sure on the injury/insult thing...I drove by the haunt of Hakuna this morning...way out of my way, on the way to work...and he was standing next to the road again!!!

Of course the turkey hunter popped out in me...if I just had one more morning. Luckily my friend Jeff will have a shot...he is next up. Maybe he can kill my nemesis!!!

Youths and Turkey Hunting - A good intro to the woods!!!

As a father of two sons and a brother that introduced a younger sibling to hunting, I have listened closely to any advice out there about introducing kids to the outdoors.  It seems the best advice obviously came from those that have been there and done that.  Through my experiences with my brother Alex, and my son Cannon who has been hitting the woods with dad since age 2, I offer up reasoning as to why I believe turkeys may be the best situation for introducing a young future hunter.  I am thankful to those that have passed on their experiences through success and failure and though I am far from accomplished, with my son only being six now, I have learned a multitude of lessons in the few years he has tagged along.  Following is my suggestions for introducing your young hunter to the great outdoors through turkey hunting.

Now I wouldn't say its a bad idea to introduce a youngster to the outdoors through deer, or waterfowl hunting, in fact if your not a turkey hunter I would certainly encourage you to get those kids outdoors in any way you can.  However, in my experience it simply is a smoother transition in the spring turkey season.  Much of the same reasoning applies here as it does to why I believe any new hunter should start with turkeys...first and foremost, the weather is typically enjoyable, the timber is beautiful in the spring, and typically, your shots are stationary shots, that are usually preceded by a prep time. The gear needed is limited and available everywhere, and on a good day the audio feedback from the birds is unmatched in my opinion.  Furthermore, the art of calling turkeys is, in my opinion, one of the easiest to become proficient enough to be effective in most situations.  My six year old is quite capable of calling for me and in fact called a jake in for his mother when he was five.  I am not bragging him up here, as he has the typical patience of a 5 or 6 year old and does not always follow my directions, and can sometimes sound more like a flock of chickens than a hen turkey..  As I will point out though, it is quite enjoyable to let it be his hunt and let him call.

Even as I see a story this morning of a seven year old young man shooting his first turkey, I am not suggesting you hurriedly get your child behind the gun and make it about pulling the trigger here, I am talking about my son having seen many birds come to the gun and the bow over the years, before he ever has the option to take a gobbler on his own.  I will not pass judgment on those that put their kids out there shooting at 6 or 7 or even younger, it is just my personal belief that they should understand what is going on and learn to respect the game before they start killing. 

There are many steps to taking a young hunter to the timber that need to be thought out ahead of time.  Things I learned from experience such as the first time a young man or woman steps foot in the woods...in the dark.  A simple thing for the experienced hunter, but quite overwhelming to a four year old, or in my experience even a 14 year old who has never experienced coyotes howling in the pre-dawn darkness.

Next, ego's have to stay at the house.  The hunt must be about the youth.  I received great advice over the years from my mentors regarding kids in the outdoors.  The most important being, it should be their hunt.  Go when they want to go, leave when they want to leave.  Never make a child go to the woods, talk it over the night before and give them the option to get up or not that next morning.  Encourage them to LOOK AT GAME...again the ego thing...all you waterfowlers have seen it or done it...telling a new hunter or youth to keep their head down, and hide their face leading to the people hiding missing the best part...BEFORE the guns go off.  For turkeys I would recommend a face mask or face paint (big hit for a kid), and tell them to watch the bird.  If they spook it they spook it, it isn't about finishing the deal at this point.  Another huge success, which again I credit my mentors with, is for the kids to have their own "gear".  My son has his own bag, his own flashlight, and matching gear just like dads.  It is the highlight of a lot of trips when Cannon notices something in the timber, and he has the "gear" to deal with it, such as a pair of binoculars a pair of pruners, etc.

Another great addition to the gear bag for my son was a cheap digital camera.  You would be surprised at some of the great pictures they take, and it entertains them a lot! Of course comfort is important.  Snacks and drinks are primary commodities!  Do not be afraid to bring a portable game system (with ear phones).  I have found on the cooler mornings, an over sized adult coat makes a great "full body" parka in the pop up blind.  Of course the pop up blinds have revolutionized the youth hunting for both deer and turkeys.  I have a carpet I bring for the "floor" and my son spends a lot of time playing trucks on the floor.  If I see something interesting, I whisper to him and he checks it out.  Avoiding any boredom, and still introducing him to the pleasures of the outdoors.  The blinds conceal most of the movement, and a lot of the sound that comes from a youngster.  I have learned to set up in areas where we can see approaching game for a while, such as a field edge.  One quick lesson learned and passed on...practice in the yard, find a chair and gear that fits the child, or they will not enjoy the hunt.  If they can't see out of the blind, what's the point?

Finally, I return to my point about making the hunt about the youth.  If he decides he wants to get out of the blind and walk, we go exploring.  If he wants to leave 30 minutes before prime time, we head for the truck.  I once commented to Cannon when he was three, on a deer hunt, that we couldn't leave just yet because there was a small buck in front of us and we needed the deer to leave before we left the blind.  The next thing I know, he is unzipping the blind and headed out in the field...to scare the deer away so we can leave, in his mind, he fixed dad's problem. If I had been mad at him for that, it would have totally changed his outlook on hunting.

A second finally? VERY IMPORTANT: Whatever game you are hunting, if there is a gun involved...PROTECT THEIR EARS!!!  I cringe every time I see youngsters going along with dad and a shotgun and no hearing protection.  Coming from a guy that has permanent ear damage...if you ring your ears or theirs...it is hearing lost.  Get them some ear muffs that fit or comfortable ear plugs...and practice with them, make sure they know what the gun will sound like, and what to expect.  

With a six year old and a 4 month old, I am constantly learning from my kids.  I make an effort to involve them in everything outdoors, but it is their option.  Sometimes I find they teach me more than anyone.  So if you haven't already, please take your kids to the woods on a spring hunt, if you use some of the tips above and learn from your children, I am sure you will find it a rewarding experience!

Cannon and Mom

2 for 2 Two central IL birds down in drastically different weather!

April 16, 2012, was the opener for first season in Illinois North Zone.  As has become tradition I met up with good friend Marc to share a hunt.  Mother nature was not too kind as we were met with overcast conditions and sustained 20+ mph winds with gusts close to 30.  The unseasonably warm weather had the turkeys on late season roosting patterns and that combined with extremely dense underbrush, led us to determining a blind set on an open corn stubble field was the best bet.  We set the blind in a field edge and were within 60 yards of the property line, where a convenient hole in the fence seemed to offer at least a chance that we could coax a bird from that direction.  Light came and we heard no gobbles, other than a couple muffled gobbles far down in the neighbors timber, not accessible and out of calling range.  We passed the time talking about our kids, old times, how many turkeys and deer we would of killed when we were younger if we had the gear we have now and the normal stuff that goes on in most blinds on a day like that.  At 7 a.m. a hen appeared in the gap in the fence and made a line right to the decoy, where she was about to attack when the sun peaked through and lit up a couple pasty white faces in the black blind and she got out of dodge in a hurry.

Around 7:20 A.M. I had just stood up to stretch and peek out the roof hole, and was in the midst of telling Marc about a hunt where I had done the same thing and been surprised by a gobbler, when I looked out the window and saw a red and white head bobbing by the opening in the fence!!!  I whispered to Marc but the bird continued into the timber,  not turning in the gap.  Marc hit his call, and the bird gobbled, a few seconds later he called again and the bird answered, with a third gobble just on the field edge and shortly the head reappeared in the gap in the fence.  The bird was being extremely cautious but when he caught glimpse of the decoy and verified there were no hostile gobblers in the area, he started our way, tripping on the downed fence before getting into the field and popping into strut at 50 yards. The bird put on a show strutting all the way to the decoy at 15 yards before Marc finally finished him with one shot!!!  Hoots and hollers and high fives, and we had bird number one on the ground for 2012, in nearly impossible weather conditions.

Marc with bird: 21 lbs, 9 7/8" beard, 1" spurs

We spent the remainder of the day trying blind calling, but not hearing anything but the roaring wind until quitting time at 1p.m.

April 17, 2012:

I was on my own on day 2 and the weather was much more enticing...50 degrees, no wind, and clear skies were forecasted and the stars greeted me on my drive to a farm that I had never hunted, much less ever heard a turkey on.  I had recently reunited with an aunt and uncle that I lost track with over the years, and they were kind enough to allow me a chance to turkey hunt their property.  I went in completely blind with one trip under my belt to check the property lines, I had been rained out on my prior scouting trips so I had no idea if I would hear anything at all.

The calm morning started quietly and finally a bird sounded off to the South.  I just knew another bird would start gobbling closer but as night gave way to daylight I realized that would not be the case.  The only bird I could hear was on extreme edge of the property or so I thought.  I decided to head that direction as he was gobbling about every five minutes or so.  My lack of experience on the farm caught up to me quickly, as I started cutting across an old cow pasture and ran into cattle corrals, and old fences all grown up in nearly 10 years of brush.  Crossing 7 fences or cattle panels, I fought thick brush to the point I had to give up and turn around on 2 occasions.  Finally taking a mile detour I arrived on the far end of the farm...only to hear the bird gobble and he had moved across the road onto property I cannot hunt.  I hit the call a few times and he ignored me.

I decided to head back to the original starting point and do some "cutt'n and runn'n."  My second stop was a spot where I had noted when walking the farm with my uncle, it was just one of those places that looked "turkey."  I could see myself killing a bird there, a rolling pasture with timbered draws meeting a creek that adjoined the neighbors huge open bottom field.  I cut on my crystal call and low and behold an answer!  Multiple birds answered, they were far but they were definitely gobblers.  I eased down the pasture another 200 yards and hit the call again at the head of an old field road.  Two birds sounded off, then a hen, then I spotted them up on a big hillside on the neighbor's ground.  Two big beautiful strutters and several other birds, mostly hens.  I hit the call again while watching through binoculars and the lead hen, turned and started leading the entire procession right at me!  They were over 300 yards away, so I had plenty of time to set the decoy and get comfortable.  About 10 minutes later I hear a hen yelping and then the gobblers answer, they are much closer and still seem to be headed my way.

I decide to call to the hen, and for the next 20 minutes we exchanged vulgar turkey language with each other with the gobblers putting on a show.  The hen closed the gap and finally I heard her cutting and yelping up a storm so close I was sure she would pop out of the woods at any moment.  I had a creek, a fence, and 30 yards of thick timber between myself and the birds, and the hen decided since she had the gobblers it was in her best interest not to cross all the obstacles.  Every once in a while I could get a glimpse through the brush of a big tail fan back lit by the sun, and the birds continued to put on an audio show from less than 60 yards for another 20 minutes before heading out.

I made a game time decision that based on the number of hens and the way they acted it would be best for me to head to another farm,.  I made the long walk out and drove back to a farm near my home.  It is a very small farm with less than 30 acres of timber, but it has been known to hold a few turkeys.  Recent trail cam video and pics showed a couple nice longbeards on the property, so I parked the truck on the field road and headed in to do some calling.  I headed to a flat near a ridge where gobblers had hung out late morning in the past.  I set up and called a few times from 10 a.m. to 10:45 a.m.  Given the calm day and the small farm, I was sure if anything was going to fire up it would have in that time frame so I headed for the truck.  I was walking along the edge of a waist high rye grass field when I spotted something strange in the neighboring field out in front of me...a small black dot in a field that was nothing but brown dirt on the way in!  I verified it was a turkey and I started a crouched walk to get closer.  I closed the distance to about 400 yards and then began to walk on my knees.  The rye was so tall, it concealed everything but my head.  At 300 yards, I dropped my turkey seat and began to crawl on my hands and knees, taking no chances.  As I moved towards the bird, he was working towards a cut that would take him up out of the bottom and away from me.  It was like a race where I could not go fast.  Crawling 20 yards, checking the bird, crawling again, etc.  Finally I ran out of taller rye and had closed the gap to within 40 yards of the plowed field edge.

To set the stage, the bird is working parallel to the creek bottom.  To get to me he will have to pass by a bridge that is for tractors and implements, etc...20 yards beyond the bridge on the other side of the creek...is my big shiny...truck!  I had nothing to lose at this point so I never even thought twice about trying to call him past my truck. I pulled out the decoy, set it and belly crawled up to a maple tree where my wife had sat to kill a turkey two seasons ago.  Ironically, the truck was sitting in that exact spot on that day and her bird paid no attention to it at all.

I was about to hit the call, when I realized I left the bag laying in the rye next to the decoy and it was shining like a beacon!  Back on the ground , belly crawling back to the decoy, grab the bag, check the bird...for the first time I see a beard swinging and confirm he is at least a 2 year old!  The only problem is he has closed to within a couple hundred yards at this point and is nearing the cut which will take him away from me.  He is higher up in the field and I felt exposed.  I crawled back to the tree using a large clump of grass to keep him shielded from me.  I eased up to the tree, getting settled just as he appeared from behind the clump headed into the cut.  I hit the call and he immediately turned towards me!  My heart rate jumped and I made sure the gun was comfortable.  As he dropped back down the hill he was directly in line with the previously mentioned clump of grass and disappeared for what seemed like 10 minutes.  Although it was only a couple minutes at most, I was fretting on what to do, was he running at me, did he turn away is he standing there?  Finally he appeared at about 100 yards and stopped to look.  From his angle all he could see was a turkey head high rye grass out in front of him.  He was extremely cautious as he approached and as he closed to 75 yards he started angling away towards the timber instead of towards my location.  I gave him a light series of yelps on my mouth call, and he turned back my direction.  I put the cheek on the gun as he went in a dip at 50 yards.  I concentrated on keeping my breathing under control as I peered down the gun barrel looking for that red and white head.  Finally the bird appeared IN THE RYE, eyeballing the decoy, he took a few steps towards me, when he walked he was out of sight due to the height of the rye, and he stopped to take one final look at the decoy.  I settled the bead and pulled the trigger, and the bird disappeared into the rye.  The standard celebratory hoot was put on hold as I stood and went to where the bird was at, I was almost on top of him before I finally saw him in the tall grass. I was elated, a tough two days of hunting, and I closed the deal on a late morning gobbler.  2 for 2 in 2012!

April 17, 2012: 19 lbs 13 oz, 13/16" spurs, 9 9/16" beard

Public Land Turkey Hunt - April 2011

 To follow in the spirit of "no pro" outdoors and the fact that we are everyday guys that make due with the land available, whether it be small tracts of private ground that hasn't been leased up yet, or the heavily pressured public land that we are privileged to hunt.  The following story is from one of those public land adventures, I hope you all enjoy and can relate in one way or another how special it is when a hunt comes together like this one.

April 28, 2011:

It was almost strange to see the stars and the silver crescent of the moon as I stepped out into the cool night air and headed west to meet up with friend and fellow turkey hunting enthusiast Carl. We conversed about the season so far, our expectations of the day and as the miles rolled away, I began to think of what it really means to me to take on the challenge of hunting public ground. There are many reasons that I am so drawn to the situation, first and foremost in my situation it is a couple days annually for my buddy and I to "just hunt", no guiding, no worrying about getting someone on a bird, no cameras, no expectations, and no cares as to who shoots...just a couple of good friends that work well together in the turkey woods.

On top of that, is the challenge of birds that have seen and heard it all, the variable of other hunters, and where they will be also adds to the intensity of the situation. There is no good way for me to explain, I don't feel like a better hunter than other people when I kill a bird on public ground, but I have certainly become a better hunter because of the experiences in these places. There is almost an "extra" rush for me when working a bird with all these extra variables thrown in, and I feel as though every time we work a bird on public ground it requires...perfection. Not saying we ever achieve it, but you do have to be close just to have a chance. Throw out working a bird at all...and its just nice to see new scenery from time to time.

All those thoughts pouring through my head and the next thing I know we are standing in a familiar listening spot after a mile or two walk through the darkness and watching mother nature raise from a night of rest. As the darkness lets go, the woods comes alive, with the cardinals, robins, and occasional whipper will. There is always that anticipation of the first gobble of the morning, and today was no different, perhaps a little more with our surroundings. Finally a faint gobble found my ears and then another, and as we zeroed in on the gobbling, Carl informed me that he believed it was coming from the other side of the property...across a flooded creek bottom , a good walk back to the truck and 20 minute drive away! I trust his opinion more than any other turkey hunter I know, but every once in a while one of the birds gobbling...just seemed closer. As with any team, the best ones compliment each other and its no different with our "turkey team", finally compromising, we began walking to the back of the property, just to be sure.

We reached another good listening spot and to my dismay a gobble rang out and it was definitely across the creek out of reach from our position. I was kicking myself as I just cost us an extra 1/2 mile one way, but the thought was cut short as a gobble rang out from much closer! Ok game on I thought! We eased down a logging road and as we debated as to how far away he was he HAMMERED with a booming gobble approximately 200 yards away. We hurriedly set up on the edges of the logging road, as the bird HAMMERED two more times. As Carl touched the call, the bird hammered back with a thunderous double gobble and the game had officially started. We had a beautiful open timber flat off the edge of the road that stretched to the area where the bird was, a natural spot for him to come through. After a couple more gobbles , he went silent for a few moments and I was sure he was coming. Over the next 30 minutes, he did not come where he "should", bur rather gobbled his head off and began dropping down in a deep ravine and circling to our left.

We adjusted several times and then he went silent again and the next time he gobbled he was directly behind US! In the field we had just came from. We both eased around and started in on him again with some very subtle calling as the bird stood somewhere near the opening to the field or the mouth of the road we were on and gobbled his fool head off. Every few minutes he would absolutely shatter the timber with his gobbles. He would close the gap to where he sounded just around the bend, forcing my head down on the gun, but never showing himself. He would start to work off, gobbling, then he would come back to our calls...an ole cagey veteran that just wasn't going to close that final gap.

As he stood in the field gobbling, he even exchanged gobbles with a couple other birds, one of which seemed to be headed our way as well...I thought now we can close the deal. But he stayed put gobbling. At one point a distant shot rang out and he even gobbled at that. After what seemed like hours, his gobbles suddenly became very muffled and then disappeared. We regrouped and moved to the area he was in , when he gobbled again down in a deep ravine (explaining the sudden drop in volume) By this point the wind had started to pick up and we tried two more set ups and the last time I thought I heard him gobble he had gone about 270 degrees in a giant circle pattern. We made a game time decision, to back out and leave him until the next day. A solid 2 1/2 hour duel and he had the upper hand. Before moving on to the next spot, we studied the lay of the land and compared notes to get a peg on where we thought he came from and went.

The remainder of the day was uneventful, with high winds we never heard another gobble that we could confirm.

April 29, 2011:

Day 2, there was no question where we would be as I had heard this birds gobbles in my sleep that night. We headed right to the mouth of that road with a plan. If the bird was in the same spot we would drop Carl off into the field and I would set my dsd hen up at the corner of the field and road knowing he crossed right in that area. We stood and again watched the woods come alive. All the birds were singing, the woodducks were buzzing over head, even a few honkers announced their presence...yet the calm cool morning air was strangely void of gobbles. I mean ANY gobble, close or far. I shot a nervous glance at my buddy a couple times, checked my phone...5:45...nothing...6:00...nothing...I am starting to think, chit the birds are on the ground and we didn't hear a thing! 6:20 and we are talking about easing down the road when a gobble rings out from the same spot that bird was yesterday!!! I pointed and whispered there he is! Carl didn't hear him and even as I doubted myself, he gobbled again! There! Again, Carl didn't hear him, as I am describing where I heard it he gobbled again and this time Carl heard it. He was definitely on the ground and moving already! Carl dropped up the field as the bird hammered again and I scrambled to get the decoy set, and get my hide situated.

I grabbed a couple branches to help hide myself on the edge of the road as the bird let out another gobble, this one jolting me with the volume! I eased quickly into my hide but had to stand back up to adjust my seat when I hear a faint call coming from Carl's location and immediately a thunderous gobble as a response. Holy crap! I am standing up and this bird is COMING.!!! I dropped into my turkey seat and grabbed my gun as he gobbled again. My pulse went through the roof and my breathing started to go out of control. As I got the gun up Carl let out another quiet series and the bird absolutely blew our hats off just off the field edge.

HE was less than 100 yards out, and I suddenly realized how out of control I really was, this bird working and all those variables I mentioned earlier had my heart racing and I was breathing so hard I figured that bird might be able to hear me. I took a deep breath and just as I did I saw him! A white head bobbing up the edge of the field where he let out another huge gobble. I got down on the gun, and started cussing myself, how far is he, how far is that...why didn't I range it! He hammered again, and then periscoped his head and spotted the decoy....We rarely try decoys on public ground but I wanted to give it a whirl on this bird to see how these birds react to a dsd decoy which so far has been nothing short of amazing on my other hunts. He eyeballed the deke and started taking a few steps towards me!

At that point a calmness came over me, I knew he believed the decoy was real and he was relaxed, as he pecked at the ground a few times, paused, then gobbled again! I guessed him at 50 yards and decided I would let him come. We were in a perfect situation, he had to come around a ravine to get to me and if he skirted away from me he would be right in Carl's face! He took a few more steps and I eased the safety off. I beared down on the gun and just as I put pressure on the trigger he moved again, another deep breath as I tracked him till he stopped and looked again, again I put pressure on the trigger and at the last possible millisecond he twitched and took a couple more steps. I just KNEW he was gonna come to the decoy, but all at once it hit me. I picked up foot steps to my right and behind me, I thought about how hard we had to work and how at any moment some other hunter may come to this spot. As much as I wanted to let him come to the decoy, and even though I had already had pressure on the trigger, I suddenly had an urgency come over me, I settled the bead, and tracked him until he stopped raising his head again to look at the decoy, took a deep breath and BOOOOOOOOOOOM!

The bird flew over backwards and began flopping, I jacked my empty out and as I started out in the field I saw Carl running across the field to get to my bird! He put his foot on its head as I ran out in the field and as we made eye contact I slid on one knee in the field and pumped my fist!!!! We were absolutely elated, fist pumping high fiving and going bonkers. Two grown men so shook up we were both visibly shaking from the adrenaline over flow! The kicker....it was 6:37 when I finally looked at the clock after hooting, hollering and pictures...we estimated he came 200 yards and to the gun in about 10 minutes. I ranged the shot after the fact, it was exactly 38 yards. A monster of a two year old bird 24 lbs on the nose, 10 3/4" beard, and 15/16" spurs. 64.25

Turned out I DID hear foot steps as a hunter came wandering out from that area as we were taking pictures. I have to say this one ranked right up there with the top few hunts of my life.

The author with his public land gobbler.