Sometimes when the plan doesn't work...it makes for an awesome hunt!

April 26, 2013, found me on a long solitary walk from the truck to my planned hunting area, with nothing but the sound of my boots hitting the ground and the occasional robin singing to keep me company.  My thoughts raced as I packed my way across field roads, corn stubble and old pasture ground.  The plan was simple, I had roosted a bird the morning before, he was the only bird gobbling and he was close to an area I could hunt.  I got close enough to hear at least one hen fly down so I knew it would be tough, but I was sure if I could get in sight of him, the decoys and the calls would do the job and draw him through a 3 strand fence to my waiting gun.

I walked as if on egg shells as I took every precaution during set up, thinking the bird was just across the corner of a bean stubble field.  Well before light he sounded off....several hundred yards away on the opposite side of the field.  I remained optimistic knowing he flew down the field I was set up on yesterday and I had a little secret weapon with me, a new striker that showed up on more door step just two days prior to the hunt.  A friend of mine had turned a hedge striker with a topper that looked like a duck call.  The striker not only looked great, it backed its looks up with sweet sounds.

As the darkness faded I pulled the new striker out and hit a light series of yelps on the slate.  The bird immediately answered me.  For the next 15 minutes he gobbled regularly to my tree calls, but at fly down time he went dead silent.  I held my ground for 30 minutes, knowing from experience he may be coming in silent, but it was not to be.  I packed up the gear and took a look across the field only to see a lone hen and no other birds in sight.  She appeared to be on a mission to get to nest so I presumed she may have left the gobbler high and dry, but he had yet to make a peep since fly down.

I headed across the farm, listening intently and hearing nothing, closing in on my favorite place on this particular farm, a small flat in the creek bottom bordered on one side by a deep ravine, one side by a deep creek with thick brush and a fence, and the remainder old pasture hillsides that fell down into this flat.  I knew from experience it would be a tough place to kill a bird, but from the day I first saw it I always wanted to kill one in that particular spot.  I had blown several mornings last year trying to get a gobbler to come from the neighbors field across the creek through the thick brush, over the creek, and over the fence, but my efforts proved futile.  So it was with little expectation that I set the decoys and settled in to relax, have a snack and enjoy the scenery...basically it was my thinking to sit and wait until I hear one gobble, then go after him.

Setting the scene, I have my back to the ravine/creek facing the small grassy flat with a couple high canopy walnut trees, almost like a park setting but with taller grass, with large rolling hills feeding down in front and to the left dropping into the bottom.  On my right is a fence, four feet of honey suckle bush, an extremely deep banked creek, another few feet of thick brush, and an open bottom field.

Expecting nothing...I hit the call and was immediately cut off by a loud gobble that made me want to duck for cover he was so close...I quickly gathered my wits, realized, I was already "covered up" and glanced to my right.  The bird had responded from only 75 yards across the creek in the open field.  Within a few seconds I could see him at 60 yards, walking along the field edge on the far side of the creek, weaving along the thick underbrush trying to get a glimpse of the hen he thought he heard.  I had intentionally placed the decoys in a spot that lined up with a area of the creek where the thick brush was...less thick...and with the late spring I felt any bird that crossed by MAY see the decoys and I was relying on the undeniable drawing power of ultra realistic decoys (DSD and Best Turkey Decoy), to do their job.

The bird continued along the field edge now directly to my right as he reached the gap in the thick brush I could see he had a long beard, and he immediately stopped and peered over at the decoys.  I could tell he saw them but he didn't turn towards me, instead he continued even faster up the field edge.  I hit the call very quietly and he immediately hammered back!  It seemed like forever and I had not heard him or seen him, my mind started racing, did he lose interest like all those birds last year, is this another "so close yet so far" scenario...before I could think anything else, I caught movement in the two foot section of thick brush between the fence and the drop off creek bank was big red, white and blue head bobbing through the thicket.  The bird worked up the fence and popped into strut 35 yards away as I eased my gun into position.  He eyeballed the decoys and then committed to crossing the fence.  His first attempt was quite comical as he tried to squeeze through a gap that was about 3" wide, before retreating, and trying again, this time he cleared the fence and popped into full strut immediately. 

I tried to control my breathing as he worked towards the decoys in full strut with the green grass and honeysuckle as a back drop, it was a picture perfect scene.  At 18 yards I found myself debating on whether I should let him get to the decoys or shoot him, I decided since the decoys were only about 12 yards, that I had better take him before he got too tight.  I took a breath and settled the bead on the base of his neck, while he continued walking in full strut directly at me...BOOOM!  He tipped over backwards and it was done that fast.  From the time he first gobbled to the shot was no more than 10 minutes, and I literally shouted despite being alone as I was thrilled with that bird anywhere, but to call him across two thickets, a deep creek, AND, a fence was a great feeling! 

A Father/Son Hunt to Remember...

My dad was responsible for giving me the spark that became a raging fire of passion for the outdoors.  He was a deer hunter and that is where I got my start but my never ending need to spend as much time in the woods as possible, I shifted into my greatest passion, spring turkeys.  Several years in I started "guiding" my dad, and we have had some memorable hunts through the years...yesterday was no exception.  Following is my dad's account of the hunt, please enjoy...

Spring?? Turkey Season 2013

After a terrible week of weather - rain, rain, and more rain, my season finally arrived. I was feeling a lot of personal pressure due to the fact that I hadn't tagged out in about 4 years. Due to my work schedule, I rarely have time to scout and usually have only 2 days of my Illinois 2nd season ( which lasts 6 days) to hunt.

My oldest son and guide Corey had been sending me scouting reports and pictures all week and I was becoming less and less optimistic. All of out usual spots were under water - from a few inches to many feet deep.

The forecast for my opening day (April 20) was for freezing temps and clear skies, after 3 solid days of rain and 1 cloudy and very windy day. For once the forecast was correct: 31 degrees and light winds as I left the house at 3:30am.

Corey had secured rights for me to hunt a different farm this season - one that wasn't in a major creek bottom. As we made the trip he talked about how awesome this farm looks - but how rarely a gobble is heard or a bird seen, but we really didn't have many other options. I remarked I would be happy if we had a bird that worked and Corey said he would be happy if he even heard a gobble. I was suited up in what was normally my deer hunting clothing that I wear in November & December. As we made the long walk into the hunting area there was frost on the grass which coated our boots as we walked. 

I had bow hunted this farm many years ago, but not the areas that we were planning on hunting because of livestock when I was bow hunting. The entire farm looked like turkey heaven and it was hard to believe that the place wasn't home to a large population of Thunderchickens. We set up in a likely looking spot and waited for the sun to peek over the horizon to our left. The woods came alive as all sorts of critters began making their presence known. We heard 2 or possibly 3 birds gobble in the distance - as in: way off the property. Corey was getting a few responses from a distant bird but he was not getting any closer and went silent on us. We were getting pretty chilly and decided to move closer to him and see if we could force the action. As we warmed up from the exercise we decided to stop and call and see if we could get a response. After the first call a bird hammered right back at us and I exclaimed "He's close!"and set up near a fence post as Corey set the decoys. After setting up, we tried calling some more and got - nothing. We tried calling some more and were discussing what to do and heard an alarm putt and the bird was less than 25 yards away in heavy cover - Corey immediately tried calling to calm him and although the bird wasn't super spooked he disappeared into the timber. We both knew we messed up on that bird but hey, that's turkey hunting.

We spent the next couple of hours trying different spots around the property with no luck at all and decided to try a different farm where I always seemed to have some action, even if I couldn't seal the deal. On the way we stopped at a gas station to re-energize ourselves after the miles we had walked. We laughingly told each other that we should have included shooting a bird in our earlier conversation as to what would make us happy. Corey grabbed some of his favorite gas stations food - cheddar dog and hot dog off the roller grill at 9 something in the morning!

We weren't sure how dry our next stop would be but we were going to find out. Normally at our destination, we would drive into a clover field about a hundred yards and then proceed on foot. As soon as we pulled in the gate Corey saw what looked like a turkey in an opening between the clover field and the next field. Sure enough, there was something there. Corey thought it was a strutter ( or a decoy)  and had me grab the binoculars and look at it. It looked like a male bird in strut and finally moved to confirm it. Then a hen moved into view as the bird continued to strut as we watched from the truck a couple of hundred yards away. 

Then... it got wierd.. at 10:30 in the morning ... the hen flew into a nearby large tree. I had never seen this behavior before and Corey hadn't either except when he saw a coyote threaten some birds. There was no threat present, as the male bird remained on the ground. We then noticed that there were 2 more hens in the same tree. One of the hens actually walked down a sloped limb and jumped onto another branch. As we discussed what to do - we were in clear view of the hens in the tree. Do we come back to the same spot tomorrow? Try to put the "sneaky sneak" on them? (Naw - can't do that with 3 hens watching from their elevated perch.) The male acted like he was going to fly up too, but, then the hens decided to fly back down to him. The group then proceeded to slowly march out of view up a wooded ditch to our right. Corey was asking me if I thought we could go after them and sneak up on then or call them back. I didn't answer - but slowly unfastened my seatbelt and slipped out of the truck and grabbed my turkey vest and the 870. The hunt was on! 

Corey grabbed some of his gear and we slipped down the hill to our left and were soon below the crest and able to travel fairly quickly. We entered the timber at the edge of the field along a creek where most of the more heavily traveled trails were still under water. We started a slow sneak/stalk through the timber as though we were being watched, crossing several ditches while keeping an eye on the fields to our right for any sign of our quarry. We finally arrived at the spot where we last saw the birds and I decided to work my way to the edge of the timber where I would be in shooting range of the last open hillside that we had seen the birds on, while Corey would remain hidden behind and left of me to call. I made the edge of the timber - hopefully undetected - and set up on a large tree. Corey began calling - and we were greeted with...once again...nothing. With limited time left before Corey had to leave to coach his son's soccer game - we held our places and Corey continued calling. 

I was trying to remain motionless, with my gun in a semi-ready position, leaning against my tree with no chair or cushion under me - they were still in the truck. I tried to watch the hill/field to my left, the timber ditch in front of me and the field to my right as well - vowing to not get burned again. Finally, I noticed the birds coming down the field hill to my left. They were spaced out quite a bit with the male bringing up the rear. The large, obviously dominant hen passed right in front of me at less than 5 yards, from left to right. I could see the male bird's red head but no evidence of a beard as he slowly came down the hill. The other 2 hens approached me even closer than the 1st hen and were briefly hidden from view behind some brush, I could see the last bird was going to take a slightly different path and needed to move my gun. As the hens passed me by I adjusted my aim and 1 of the hens putted and immediately the last bird gobbled, stepped into my line of fire, and I squeezed the trigger, and down he went at about 8 yards.

 

After high fives and tagging the bird, we took a few photos and made the trip back to the truck. The bird turned out to be a smallish jake - but after the dry spell I had been through, I didn't care. Like Corey says - if they are going to act like a long beard - they are gonna get treated like one.

 

 

Dad with is first bird in several years.

I had been hoping for a memorable hunt and certainly got one. "Hey Dad - remember the day that hen flew up into the tree and we went after 'em when they flew back down?"

"Yeah son, I sure do."

It doesn't always take a longbeard to make a great hunt!

Rainy Morning Success on a Gobbler!!!

I stepped out the door with enough gear to support a small turkey assault army and squinted as a heavy, cool mist tickled my face.  It was a strange mix of cool mist and extremely muggy air and 55 degree temps.  Thoughts of the past few days of scouting were rolling through my head, I had scouted heavily and had not heard a single bird gobble for four straight days.  The morning prior I had sat overlooking the very field I was headed towards now, and had not seen or heard a bird.  Soon after, as I made my daily scouting runs in the truck, I observed a group of turkeys that were over two miles away in a field I could not hunt.  To my amazement, I watched as two separate groups of birds covered over two miles in less than twenty minutes and as I left them, they were approaching one small farm I can hunt.  That tid bit was my only positive scouting info from the past week, so I went with it.

I parked the truck and made the long walk through the misty darkness with nothing but my thoughts and the trill calls of toads in the swamps to accompany me.  To my dismay I found several areas of standing water in the field and wondered if I could even get a bird to come to my set.  For the first time ever I set a Best Turkey Decoy, along with my Dave Smith Hen decoy.  I was not confident that a bird was roosted in the area, but based on my observations of the birds the weekend before during the youth hunt, I set up as if a gobbler would be roosted to my right in or near a big cottonwood tree.  I set the decoys with the jake decoy facing the hen and only a few feet apart, with the decoys being 15 yards from my set up on the field edge.

The last time we hunted this area during the youth hunt, the birds were roosted near the big cottonwood tree and flew down on the wrong side of the creek.  Though they eventually worked back to our side, they skirted us and disappeared into the timber.  Based on that hunt, I had adjusted my set up 40 yards farther AWAY from the suspected roost, but closer to where they crossed into the timber the weekend before.

I eased back in my seat and listed to the toads and tree frogs and I thought to myself how quiet it was with a heavy rain over night and heavy mist in the air the moisture almost seemed "wearable."  Finally a few Robins began to serenade the coming day and as I sat totally relaxed, and not expecting any gobbles at all I told myself, "it was 7:30 A.M. when birds headed this way yesterday, so I need to stick it out no matter what."

Just then a coon let out a squall and a gobble erupted from the timber 125 yards to my right, near the big cottonwood, just as I had not expected.  Though he was in a common spot, he had not been there for a few days and it just about knocked me out of my seat.  My heart rate immediately jumped up and and breathing increased.  He gobbled again and then a third time before I got hold of myself and began to control my breathing!!!  The bird ripped off a few more thunderous gobbles over a ten minute span as I waited for the right time to announce my presence.

A hen let out a quiet tree yelp and he immediate hammered back.  Great!, I thought, he has live hens with him, no way he will walk across this soggy field to get to my decoys!  I decided I would call aggressively and see if I could convince the hen to fly down on my side instead of across the creek.  I let out a series of quiet yelps and was cut off by the gobbler, then the hen.  The hen was never real aggressive, so I followed her lead and only cutt a time or two just to make a point.  She finally had enough and let out a cackle as she flew down...AWAY from me across the creek way out in the adjoining field.  A second bird left the roost and headed the same way, and I thought I was done for.  I let out one more semi-aggressive cutt and yelp sequence and to my surprise the gobbler responded still in the tree.

The beating of heavy wings sounded his lift off and he appeared in glide mode landing on the edge of the field that I was in, 100 yards away.  I hit him with a quiet series of yelps and he hammered back, his gobble echoing through the bottom and rattling my bones!  He was in no hurry, popping into strut, then "periscoping" to check out the decoys, as I called sparingly he worked closer painfully slow.  One of the hens that had pitched down across the creek returned and flew the creek and as he turned towards her, I hit him with another call, he stopped, looked, and then gobbled again.  He flipped his wings and started my way, closing to 75 yards, with the hen in tow, he was more interested in my set up and the "imposter" than he was in the live hen trailing along with him.

As he reached 50 yards, I eased the gun into position and watched him approach ever so cautiously working along the edge of some standing water in the field.  At about 40 yards, it was like he flipped a switch, he suddenly decided he wasn't going to be careful anymore and that he was gonna whoop this intruder.  I am not sure what changed, but he turned 90 degrees, and walked straight through the water right past the hen decoy and went into strut within a few steps of the jake.  I eased the gun up and he jumped back like he was gonna get hit, then dodged and weaved, before popping into strut on the the right side of the decoy.  I am sure he was about to attack but I was not taking any chances and pulled the trigger, dropping him at the "feet" of the jake decoy!!!  Day 1, Bird 1 in the bag!!!

The bird was a nice two year old that weighed 20 lbs 1 oz, had a long, skinny 11 1/16" beard, and 15/16" spurs.

Catch and release...turkey style...

April 6, 2013:

Youth Hunt Opener:

The Illinois Youth Hunt Opener for the North Zone arrived after five days straight of scouting and a lot of waiting and wondering.  There was a slight chill in the air with temps in the high 40's, at 5:00 A.M., as my companions for the day pulled into the drive.  I gave Austin and his dad a quick run down of where we would be, what I had seen scouting and my hopes for the morning.  As is always the case when hosting guests, I was a nervous wreck wondering "will the birds be there, will they gobble."  This was Austin's first experience and I wanted it to be a positive one.

We made the short trek across the fields and set up where the "back" field squeezes down to about 50 yards wide and set up next to an ideal oak tree large enough for all three of us.  Once we were comfortable we settled in to wait for the woods to awaken.  It was overcast at first and it delayed the typical 5:50 a.m. gobbling.  The first sound was a raspy hen to our right that let out a few coarse yelps.  It was still very dark, well before 6 a.m. when I thought I heard a turkey fly down to my left.  I peered through the darkness...and for a moment I swore there was a big black blob in the darkness at the end of the field.  Knowing this field like the back of my hand, I was sure there was "something" there, but my experience with turkeys told me no way it was a bird at this time of the morning.  The hen talked a bit more and finally it got light enough for me to confirm it was indeed a strutting tom that was in the field 150 yards away to our left!  I pointed the bird out to Austin and Mike and as we were watching him, the birds to our right began making noise and flying down.  There were two brief gobbles during the fly down to our right but really limited gobbling overall, but that disappointment was easily outweighed by the fact we had a big strutting tom in the field with us!

Our attention was now firmly on the big strutter that was alone in the field with only our decoy to look at.  The big bird never left strut and worked painfully slowly towards our location, only closing a few yards over several minutes.  A gave him a few coaxing yelps and was rudely cut off by a hen in a tree across from us.  As she flew down, multiple other hens exited the trees in front of us.  Soon after Mike spotted hens coming down the adjacent hillside and the gobbler headed towards the live hens and disappeared into a small strip of timber.

One of the hens was particularly sassy so I began a standard "I'm better than you" routine on the mouth call.  In just a few minutes the longbeard popped back into the field and then four hens, led by the bird I had been conversing with.  They were 150 yards at that point and the dominant hen made a slow and deliberate march to the decoy with the gobbler trailing the pack.  Being it was a youth hunt, I had placed a Dave Smith Hen decoy 15 yards right out in front of us and as she came I leaned over and whispered to the boys that I expected this hen to come and attack the decoy because I have seen it happen so many times before.  She did not disappoint! 

The ole hen came directly to the decoy and began purring and went into full strut as the three other hens and the gobbler closed to 40 yards, 30, 20!  At this point I realize we are going to have a whirling dervish of four hens a long beard and a decoy at 15 yards in front of a young man who is experiencing his first hunt ever!  We did our best to coach him through as the hen continued to flog the decoy the bird even gobbled to the response of the hollow decoy being struck by the hen.  The birds were so fixated on the decoy they never became nervous or aware of the three strange humps just 15 yards away on the oak tree.  Finally, with three hearts pounding, the bird gave a slight bit of separation and turned away from us and Austin raised his gun.  The shot went off and the bird didn't even flinch!!! A clean miss, unhurt and relatively unflustered, the gobbler and four hens walked away and disappeared into the timber with the gobbler still strutting his stuff as he disappeared. I checked the time and it was 6:40 a.m.!!!  We were all shaking from the adrenaline rush.

We took a moment to recover and moved to another farm where we spotted four hens, circled them and set up hoping they had a gobbler in tow.  For the second time in less than 3 hours we soon had live birds inside 15 yards as the four hens came in to inspect the decoy.  That was it for the day, no late morning gobbling heard but certainly some great observation time of the big birds.

April 7, 2013:

  The quintessential perfect turkey morning met us for day 2.  43 degrees, raising to 70 during the day, clear skies and dead calm with a heavy moisture on the fields that allowed us to make a quiet approach.  The strategy for day 2 was go back to the same field but I was torn between setting up where the birds crossed into the timber or in a familiar brush pile in the area.  I opted for plan A and we set up right where the bird yesterday had crossed into the timber with my thinking being he felt comfortable there.  Well before light I noticed a bird in the cottonwood tree in front of us and pointed it out to Austin and Mike.  For such a perfect morning I was shocked that we heard no gobbling at all, until a raccoon scuffle ended in a loud abrasive squall that enticed a powerful shock gobble out of a roosted bird in front of us.  The bird put on a show strutting on the limb with the coming sunlight back-lighting the bird and his 7 hens.  The birds were less than 100 yards away and I was sure we were in the cat bird seat until the gobbler flew down, not in our field, but across the creek in an adjacent field.  As the hens followed, I knew we would have to wait em out but I was confident they would make it our way eventually.  The gobbler put on a show, gobbling at a hen flydown cackle and strutting his stuff on the hillside across the creek for several minutes before all seven hens headed our way and flew the creek into our field.  This time there were no aggressive birds and I was unable to convince any of them to come beat on the loan hen decoy.  Eventually the gobbler flew the creek too and the 7 hens and the gobbler worked across the field angled towards us but not enough to put them in range before they passed by.  I was kicking myself as I watched them walk just in front of the brush pile that was plan B.  It was as this bird was crossing the field that I realized he was much bigger than the bird from yesterday, he had a large paintbrush beard and I could see his spurs when I zoomed in on camera.  They worked up the hill and disappeared, heading out into the wide open field behind us to spend the day.  We tried a little running and gunning and one set but were unable to strike up a bird the rest of the morning.

Mike and Austin preparing for mid morning set.

Austin had to call it a season, with much excitement, we got a ton of experience without having a bird for pictures,.  Austin and Mike handled it right, despite a little razzing from dad, I heard Mike say to his son, "even though we don't have pictures of a bird, we have memories "up here" " (pointing at his head).