Sunday morning our alarms went off and we were greeted to a wonderful light-show to the southwest. A big storm was on the way but radar showed most of it would slip south. We stayed the course and made it out with rain gear any only some rain and a lot of lightning. We set up where Michael shoots his deer and buried ourselves into an old brush pile, which greeted us with a small weasel shortly after setting up.With the passing storm I wondered if it would stir up the birds and give us a shot at all. It would either make it the most epic morning ever, or shut things down completely. The roosters in the prairie behind us were all in for the day, but besides a few distant gobbles, it was a quiet morning. That small weasel returned to his brushpile, but with his mornings catch. We did manage to call a lone hen right into our set, but no beards in tow. We moved a farther down the fenceline in hopes that we would be closer to the birds we heard gobbling earlier. Again, we found another lone hen, but she stayed on the other side of the fence. She was literally feet behind us before I shifted, and that was all she wrote. We packed up and headed out in search of food.
The game plan after food was some run and gun on some other properties. We ran the gambles at Coleman's and there was not a peep. It was starting to get borderline too hot at this point so we went straight to Big Marsh. As we pulled into the parking lot we ran into guy whom was running ditches for asparagus earlier this morning. He was trying to reap a gobbler with a bow and couldn't close the deal. Told us there were three and pointed where they were headed. We collected our gear and booked it. We of course assumed we would never see these birds and inevitably we did. 100 yards in front of us, three gobblers. They had been run around all morning and had us pegged before we knew they were even there. Michael tried to sneak up on them with his strutter decoy, but they were long gone by the time he was at their last known location.
We found a spot in the timber right along the river and settled on each side of a giant honey locust. When we woke up 45 minutes later, in pools of our own sweat, there was a guy 50 yards in front of our decoys perusing the woods for morels...
After returning home we called it a weekend. It was already into the 80s and I figured Rachel would be happy with an early return home.
It was great to spend some time with Michael camping, hunting, and just hanging out. We had some fantastic hunts and encountered some cool things along the way. This may be my last turkey season in Iowa, but there is a hell of a lot more trouble Michael and I will find in the future.
Stay Tuned
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