I met Michael at his place and we packed our gear and headed out. With what time we had when we got there we scoped out his uncle's property, where he shot his 2nd season bird, and then headed to the public property where we would be camping for the night. The nauseating twisting and turning back roads led us the to bottom of a bluff with a small trout stream below it.
It was nirvana.
We had plenty of time before dark and I wanted to wet a line. Michael was pretty hell bent on scouting out turkeys so we planned on doing both. What ended up happening is I staying down at the creek while Michael scaled the hill to roost a bird. It took me all of 30 minutes to figure out there was only about 200 yards of accessible trout stream where we were. I caught two small trout and no pics as Michael was gone and I had no stringer to keep them.I figured I would just start a fire and set up camp while Michael was out doing his thing.
Can you guess where the keys were?
I started my first fire with magnesium and flint (in my backpack) and waited for Michael's return. The deal was he needed to back well before dark so we could set up camp. It was 7:45 and I was starting to worry. Of course, he has fallen down a ravine and has a broken leg because we broke the rules and separated.
OR
He found a few birds but was half a mile away and completely lost track of time......
It was 8:45 before he returned. It was now dark. We set up a quick tent, roasted some cheddar brats on the fire and enjoyed the cold settling into valley.
There is always a catch to these scenarios. A large pickup came down the small road at about 10:30 and parked next to the Tahoe. I was guessing DNR, but Michael speculated coon hunters. This time of year it seemed absurd, but sure enough, after about 15 minutes of fumbling around we here the baying dogs around the bend. No wonder there wasn't a bird within a half mile radius...
At some point during a trip to the truck, Michael's phone reception came in along with a few texts from his aunt and uncle. They were not kosher on the friend (me) hunting on their property and they would just assume that we not hunt their property at all this weekend....Well shit. Oh well we have a plan B. First, Sleep:
It was a restless night of sleep for a couple of reasons.
1-we were too stubborn to go back to the truck and find stuff for pillows so we used bog boots in their place
2- Again, stubbornness prevailed and we were cold, functional, but barely and
3- 10pm cheddar brats dipped in ash and chips with star crunch does not make for a wonderful dinner.
At 4am we got out of the tent, as we were pretty much already awake, took the tent down and packed up everything before heading to the truck for turkey gear. We scaled the hill, and then the next one, before stopping on a hillside to listen for gobbles. When we finally located one we were on foot. Almost a quarter mile, 75% of that going straight uphill, we set out decoys and sat against a large oak.
We had not been set for 5 minutes and the gobbler was on the ground and headed our way. At 90 yards he hung up. He had hens and a few jakes with him. He was going nowhere. After a half hour he and the group skirted outside of 100 yards and were gone.
We tried another set-up and it just wasn't producing anything. The only chance this time of year to put a bird in the dirt was to find them, and not wait for them to come to us.
Michael and I did some conversing while staring at our hike from the top of the hill, and it was decided we would try our luck at a trout and then just head back to Dike for the afternoon and evening.
The trout fishing was borderline pointless... Already five guys fishing the stretch and it was almost high noon. It was hot, bright, and the fish were pressured. We opted to get the hell out of dodge after a half hour.
Our arrival home was marred only by the fact that we were more exhausted than we both thought. The plan for an afternoon spot and stalk at Big Marsh was pushed aside for a hunting DVD Michael and I purchased at the Classic this year and a possible nap. We watched the first one and of course it was awesome so neither of us took a nap. Instead Michael ate twelve bowls of cereal before we made dinner.
Now, dinner was not the usual backstrap, or the more fitting turkey breast, but instead was the squirrel he and I harvested off of Coleman's last winter. With the help of some of my custom seasoning blend and a grill we were able to feast on beast.
After food we inevitably passed out on the couch while watching our second DVD.
Stay Tuned
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