Double Bird Day

Saturday morning Michael  and I knew darn well we were going to hunt. We decided the evening before that we would try our luck at Big Marsh as Michael knew about where the birds have been roosting. When we got that at an unholy, sacrilegious hour, Michael walked us right to where we needed to be. We waited until we could hear a gooble. Sure as rain, we heard a couple sound off. The issue we faced unfortunately was Big Marsh was flooded. This made for a mosaic of flood water and dry land. Had we brought waders, we would have been unstoppable, but things work out for reason sometimes. We positioned ourselves within 100 or so yards of a hot bird. We hadn't been set for ten minutes before he pitched down. He continued to gobble as he closed the distance. Our only problem now was our placement. We needed to be one un-flooded birm ahead of where we were. He skirted us. He strutted his way along the river as I had predicted. 70 yards was not close enough and we just got to watch the show instead. We walked around for awhile longer but we were fading fast trying to slop through the mud. I do not give up when it comes to turkeys, so I said Shell Rock Bend was next. Michael was already day dreaming about hashbrowns and eggs, but I convinced him to forge on.

I told him we would hunt until noon or so, and by doing so, we would find a nice deep calm hole in the timber and nap against a tree. At this point the wind had really picked up. I knew the birds would do the same thing I would; find a warm, quiet, sunny spot in the timber. We walked slowing through thick timber before we found them. Ten or so deer, and turkeys. The deer busted right, the turkeys left. Michael saw the birds and said they were less than 30 yards before we busted them. I suggested we sit down and wait for their return. Warm, secluded, and a hell of a lot less windy. A doe walked within feet behind me before busting me. Michael took advantage of the spot.

Once we came-too from our glorious nap, I told Michael a new tactic was necessary to kill a bird late season. I have always had unorthodox methods, but then again that is why I shoot birds. Because of the wind our movement would be covered if we moved slow. We would smell them before they smelled us. These conditions made for a spot and stalk turkey hunt.

We inched our way through the timber one step at a time. I knew where I wanted to go and how to get there. I used the brush as cover, and stopped a large trees along the way. I figured we would be able to find them before they spotted us. We worked 300 plus yards without a single anything. Michael followed right behind me the whole way.

Finally.

Birds.

Three birds in a dip in front of us not 30 yards. I stopped and turned to Michael and said, "They are right in front of us. I am going if you don't mind".
He had no idea they were their and still could not see them. I inched my way closer for a clear shot. One longbeard and two jakes. I got 5 yards closer before the longbeard stood up and pegged me.

 BOOM!

Dropped him hard, or so I thought.
 The longbeard flew off directly away from us, while one of the other jakes ran to the left. I yelled "Michael SHOOT!!! SHOOT!!!" In one fluid motion, he shot as the bird ran from right to left. Just flatted him. I just said, " You got him."  He had no idea what happened. He told me he didn't even know what he was shooting at but rather at something running in front of us. He knew I knew what it was, and I knew he was a legal bird. So I told him to shoot. I walked up to my bird, to which I laid major smack down, and look over at Michael. He is walking balk and forth like he was looking for blood. I thought he was looking for his empty shell before he looked up at me. I just pointed a little to the right as he was mere feet from his bird before he could even see it. He ran over toward it and leaned on it while trying to finish him off. He just proceeded to peel off most of the neck feather instead. When our birds stopped flopping he just looked and me, and stated,  "Did that just really happen?" "What just happened?" "ARE YOU KIDDING ME!!?!?!?!"

We just stood there and high fived and giggled for ten minutes.

 As usual, we took our sweet time setting up for pictures. I believe this part is more important than the rest of the details. Take that moment's super high and freeze it in time.

While walking around we came across a bunch of these clumps of Virginia Bluebells in the woods. Because of this, we wanted a few pics to remember them as well.

 And then of course there was the stump pics. We have taken many pics from the stump in the past and even though the DNR tried to clear the stump out we still got our pics.

As per usual we took a few pics at the car. Just as we set up a truck pull into the lot.

We win.

 On to hashbrowns, sausage, toast, and OJ. This turned out the be a spectacular day.



Stay Tuned: A River Adventure

Turkey Shed Fishing

The trifecta would have only be more complete had we put a bird on the ground. Or seen one. Or heard one within a half mile range...

Nick and I got up early to do some first light river ratting. We loaded the boat up and as soon as it was light enough to not die on our boat ride upstream, we headed for a strut zone/ hopeful roost area. We set our dekes out and watched the woods stretch its weary morning arms. Tons of birds, deer, overall wildlife. None of them however, happened to be turkeys. We got a few responses from birds across the river well over a 1/2 mile away. That was not happening. There was still some residual snow on the ground at our spot.

We knew this was futile but it was nice to get out and at least hear a few birds. We climbed the top of the ridge only to find a tent blind already set up there. Bust. We headed back down to make our way back to the boat. I told Nick we saw nothing because I wasn't wearing my lucky hat:

Sorry Dad! I found it in my supply box, and I figured why not take you out with us. I will return it eventually. A quick swap and through the willows we go. Nick had no more than split off from me and I looked down.
 Deadfall buck from probably a couple of years ago.

 Buried in the mud.

 Nick and I with some bone!!!

At this point we had heard birds, tried our luck at sheds and managed bone in very short time, now on to some cold-water fishing. The snow and weather really cooled things down, but we were hoping that rising water would trump cold. We boated to our sacred spot.

Nick thought a few more bone pics were necessary as well:

We slowly and quietly bumped into our shallow water haven. The water was cold and we were cautiously optimistic anyway. It didn't take long for Nick to find an "Iowa golden bass"

Nick told me he has spent enough time on the river that it was my turn for the honey hole so we switched spots in the boat. Thanks Nick!

Nick figured out the slack pool and was pulling in carp left and right.

Nick having his inner Adam tell him he needed to move, paddled us across the slack pool to try the other side. This lasted all of 9 minutes. The wind was now at our face, and the fish were not there. I told Nick this was absurd to which he responded "why did you let us move in the first place?"......
We moved back to our original spot, only tweaking a little. We put ourselves in a a more open spot. I wanted to slack water carp hole, and Nick wanted the catfish swirling eddy. It was a win win. We proceeded to catch more carp.

We couldn't have planned it better.
Lisa gave us a call at about noon telling us her brother Curt was in town so it was time to call it a day. What a morning!
At the boat ramp I couldn't help but take a picture of Nick doing what he always does...

Stay Tuned