I said screw the system and applied for a bow turkey tag. These tags do not have a draw system like gun tags as their success rates are half of those from gun tag holders. As soon as I got my tag I realized I had no blind. This presented a bit of a problem. I went to work making some phone calls and alas!!! Nick had two that were in disrepair that he was never going to use. When I came down for my visit, they were promptly loaded into the car. By the grace of our Lord, the poles on the inside of both tents were the same size!!! I was able to man-fangle the new poles into the nice tent and was now the owner of a fantastic functioning tent blind!
Opening archery weekend came and went without a flinch from my part. In fact, the Saturday opener, I was busy fishing pike.
The weekend of the 8th, I was given permission from the Mrs. to hunt turkeys until my brains started oozing from my ears. I got up at the un-holy hour of 3:30am as I was unable to sleep anyway, and I had an hour and a half drive ahead of me and I did not want to be late. As usual, turkeys take a bit of a strangle hold on me and I get a bit antsy. I hoisted up my blind, diddy-bag, and bow and headed to my scouted corner. The wind was howling, despite a forecast of mild winds for the day. I got about halfway there when I realized I left my bow release in the front seat.
Damn....
I dropped all of my gear and hauled back to the car at the top of the hill. This fat guy may not looks quick but I managed to make it there in short time and short breath. I was reaching for the door handle when I felt in my jacket pocket; my release.
Double Damn....
I picked apples all the way back down to my gear and finished the last leg of my walk. I snuck into the sheltered area without so much as a flea-fart of a sound. I knew if there were birds here they were going to be close. I set up the blind as quickly as possible and made sure to stake it down. Even though it was sheltered, the wind was bucking for sure. After strategically placing my two hen, one jake decoy setup, I buried myself into my hide. If there were birds here, they were not going to know what hit them!
I waited for the distant (or hopefully not so distant) sound of a timber rattling gobble. I was prepped and ready to go 40 minutes before legal light, and by sun up I had not heard a gobble. It was a beautiful morning to enjoy God's great earth and I did! I had a pair of mallards try multiple times to land in my decoy spread. In all of my years of turkey hunting I had never seen anything like it. They did eventually land about 40 yards out in front of my blind and proceeded to squawk like I was invading their home. I was also greeted by a small group of does that made their way to 35 yards before deciding they did not like what they were seeing. They turned tail and left me to myself for the remainder of the morning. At a little after 7am I heard a faint gobble. I knew exactly where he was; right where I had killed my bird last season.
I was in the blind for the long haul and knew if there were any birds on the entire property, they would eventually end up right at my tent. Uncle Al was supposed to join me at some point in the morning and I was unsure of when. I got a call from Al saying he was not going to make it out this morning after all. As I was on the phone with him, the gobbler was sounding off on the other side of the hill near one of my treestands.
As the minutes passed, I could hear him strutting back and forth at the base of the hill, gobbling every few minutes. I tried clucking at him to get his attention but the wind was putting a hamper on my game. At a little after 7:30am I could hear the gobbles becoming distant and I knew where he was headed...Away.... I pulled all of the stops and let-er rip. I took my slate call and extended my arms out of the blind window and scratched until my ears were about to bleed.
He gobbled.
I scratched again.
He gobbled again.
I knew at that moment I had this in the bag.
Each time he gobbled, he was significantly closer. When he crested the hill and gobbled, I gave some soft clucks and purrs that would make any shy gobbler swoon. When he didn't gobble back I knew he was much closer. I grabbed my bow and waited for him to poke out of the woods next me on the logging road. I was not five feet from the logging road and fully expected him to take that path, but once he caught sight of my decoys he was on a bee-line. He gobbled once at forty yards. When he started spitting and drumming within 30 yards the whole tent would pulse; I could feel it in my chest. I could hear his wing-tips scrapping the ground as he was strutting closer and closer.
Finally, I see him come out of timberline and head straight for the jake decoy. In full strut, 20 yards in front of me, I realize, "this is actually happening".
He had no idea I was there as I drew back my bow. As I settled my pin into the right spot, I released my arrow at this giant gobbler in full strut, 11 steps from my blind.
WHACK!
As my arrow hits him, he drops a little before hopping into the air. He walks a limping loop around the spread and walks right back to where he came out of the woods. Just as I lose sight of him, I hear three wing beats and that is all she wrote!!!
I sat in my blind for a few minutes reveling in the magnificence of the morning. I was honestly a little bummed that my season ended so quickly. I hunted for a grand total of an hour and forty minutes and my entire season was over.
The best part: no tracking odyssey, no miss, no injuries to me.
As I crept out of my tent blind, I was greeted by the scent and sounds of spring. There is not a whole lot I enjoy more than getting up at an unholy hour for turkeys.
After packing up and hauling my gear and bird back to the car, I headed over to Al and Karin's to show them my morning's gift. As I usually have some turkey left over, I was hesitant to just throw this one into the freezer. Instead, I discussed with Al and Karin whether or not they wanted it, and upon further discussion it was decided they would have it for Easter dinner. I went head first into plucking this magnificent bird.
Brian and a friend were around after putting the dock in at Lake Cochrane, and he was able to instruct me as to how he would like the bird prepared as he was going to be doing the cooking. He had me pull out the back bone, as well as split the breast so it lays flat when its cooked. I may have to try this some time!
After cleaning up the bird and getting it in the freezer, (for only a short time), I was on my way back home.
I don't know that there are any outdoor adventures that I enjoy more than spending time in the turkey woods. I am beginning to enjoy deer bow hunting again, I have begun to appreciate watching the dogs work on the prairie, and I have been hypnotized by the waterfowl scene here in South Dakota, but it all comes back to turkeys. Whether I am running and gunning solo, or sharing the hunt with someone, I just cannot get enough of it. Yes, it is selfish of me to feel almost cheated that my season ended so swiftly as many others are not quite as lucky, but there is nothing like having a gobbler sound off in the timber. There is no sensation like having a bird spitting and drum within feet of you. I will look forward to my next turkey adventure as soon as the last one has ended.
Stay Tuned
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