May 2018 – Tagged Out, Bagged Out

Class Dismissed

Sitting back in by favorite chair and the Monday night Brewers game was interrupted by Al busting into the living room. Just roosted a bunch of birds at the foot of the hill. ” That’s cool” I said. ” Any big boys in the flock?”” I think so.” He replied

Tuesday would be the last day of his season. A season I did not have a tag for. The week previous Al called in a nice Tom for me. I was unable to hunt with him for his season this week. He had no shortage of volunteers his own age that filled my shoes. If you do not have anyone that can go with you in the morning I can sneak away until 7 or so. No worries Pops let’s save your hunting time for the next season when we can both carry a gun. I will have no problem getting someone to go with me in the morning. Sounds like a great plan. Let’s plan on going out Wednesday morning. Where do you plan on setting up on the birds tomorrow? The discussion led to a set up on a bulldozed road near the foot of the hill. Good luck, text me mid-morning and let me know how it goes.

The text came in and it read. No luck. Birds flew to the top.

That ended his season empty, however in less than 24 hours another week of turkey hunting would begin. A season that had us both holding tags. We could hunt together. My favorite kind of hunt.

Al went to scout for birds as I drove home from work. He found them at the top of the same hill that had taken his chances away the night before. Odd I thought, since I had driven past the same area less than 1 hour earlier taking a detour between sales calls for some quick recon. I was pleasantly surprised Al had found them.

The birds had been roosting on the hill side about midway from the top to the bottom. If it were me and I had a choice to fly down and walk up or fly down and stay down it would be an easy choice for me. But I am not a turkey and they proved to be more athletic than I.

The field Al found them in was a newly sprouting soybean field along skinny filed bordered by a wooded hillside to the south a gravel road to the north and each end of the ½ mile field by farm houses. The field was only 150 yards wide. The lime green sprouts were breaking through the sandy soil. The field had multiple slow rolls to it. We decided we would not bring a tent but hide by some large trees and face the open field.

The morning came quick as usual a gentle light breeze and 55 degree weather greeted us in the darkness. We parked packed and proceeded to where we thought we could be successful. It was a difficult choice. The farm houses made us uncomfortable. We slid to the middle of the field equally away from each house. When hunting if you are not choosing for bird locations or making decisions based on when you have to get back to work it is usually a step toward an empty tag. We chose a suitable tree we both could lean on and dropped the fanned tom decoy and 30 yards out in the field.

It was a beautiful awakening to the day. Leaves were busting out and the sunrise was spectacular. Red and orange bursting above the eastern horizon. Not a cloud in the sky.

Boom a burst of gobble startled us just below the ridge. YES! Multiple birds just what we needed. Now Up or down for the fly down? Let the hunt begin. We sat quietly scanning the field edge. More gobbles and some hen clucks.

Then off to the east we say them coming into the field just where we originally wanted to set up but chose not to because it was too close to the house. When we look at it in the daylight the homes were very far away but in the dark, we just didn’t feel right. Wrong choice for a step on the field ambush. But still good for a call over. That is as fun as a quick hit.

The birds just kept on coming hen after hen Tom after Tom. A bonanza! The hens noticed the other Tom and started our way. The Toms in the flock gobbled them back. Wow, competition. 3 Toms strutted and turned, danced and gobbled and would not let the hens leave and they were in no way going to let their group go to the decoy. The flock would get about 75 yards the Toms would gobble them back and take them to the far side of the field. The large fans illuminated from behind by the rising sun was an awesome sight even though they would avoid gun range they gave us a show.

All the gobbling and strutting pulled another hen from the north west to the group and behind it a pair of Big Toms. FIVE big toms strutting in front of us way out of range.

The hens left and the Toms looked for more girls across the road and our two hour show was over our tags still empty. But our eyes and memory were full.

Back to work. Next chance to hunt together would be Sat am and Sunday am.

Friday night scouting found the birds in the same field we hunted on Wednesday. Saturday am weather 65 and humid without any wind. We decided again no tent just find a tree where near where they came out on Wednesday.

The spot was perfect. The tree perfect. Now we wait. The gobbles came as expected we smiled to each other and confirmed locations of the gobbles. It should not be long now.

The big Toms did not disappoint us and walked proudly out to the field exactly where we were set up on Wednesday! We had hoped our set up would be better this time, we only set up a hen decoy. Figuring they were decoy shy.

All 5 of the toms were on full display along with a few hens. WE had been sitting for just about minutes and they came into our personal space. Not the Toms but the mosquitos. We had not experienced any bugs to date but with no wind and humid temps they found us. I could see a gray cloud of bugs surrounding Alex sitting next to me and knew I had a similar cloud on me. The began to bite through our light clothing and face masks. We held firm.

The Toms were getting closer but would still not come close to the decoy. Staying 85 to 95 yards out. Gobbling and strutting but not willing to get close enough for a shot.

The mosquitos were winning the battle of patience. It was one of the most uncomfortable feelings we would endure. Unable to move in fear of spooking and educating our birds and getting drained of our red blood as we sat motionless.

Finally, the Toms drifted slightly North to the road but still in sight and we gave in. We happily stood and swatted and ran briefly to avoid the cloud of bugs. The Toms briskly walked over the hill two hens took flight. It was that bad. We had tag fillers still in the field and we could not take it anymore. Bug spray was the first thing I reached for when I got back to the garage and put it in the truck for our next hunt. Which would be tomorrow morning. We were done for the day our abdomens and arms looked like dimples on a golf ball.

Scouting time that evening not surprisingly found no birds in the mosquito field and no birds anywhere else we drove to scout. One of the ways to find out where the birds are, is find out where they were not. We accomplished that task.

We sat down and talked strategy for the hunt in the morning. It was decided, NO DECOYs, A tent and Bug Spray. We would listen and leg it. We had two tags to fill.

We selected the farm where the mosquitos pushed us off. There were 5 plus good sized gobblers on the farm. Educated by us. But just like many of my educators, when I thought I knew the answers they changed the questions. Thus, our decision to go with no decoys. The tent was an add on in case we had to wait then out and had some mosquito spray failure.

Al donned the tent on his back, I the chairs. We stood by the pickup and listened.

The gobblers still wanted to be noticed by their lady friends and belted out a predawn blast to let the girls know where they were roosted. But so, did we.

We smiled and looked at each other and confirmed we had heard the same gobbles and agreed where we think they were roosted.

The location we believed the birds were roosted was the rock point where I had harvested a nice bird just 3 weeks previous. The nice part was that the leaves were out now and it would be harder to for us to be busted as we set up our tent. The bad part is that we were a long way from that point and the sun was racing us to the horizon. Time to leg it.

It was another beautiful morning a warm eastern breeze pushed against our faces. Some wild lilacs were in full bloom and the sweet aroma drifted into my nostrils the alfalfa field we had to cross was wet with dew and mid-calf in height. Quiet but wet. Our pace was quick and we heard a few more gobbles as we crossed the field and started along the oak and maple woods to the rock point. It was getting lighter and the gobbles closer. We picked up our pace, we were still a couple of hundred yards to where we both knew we wanted to set the tent.

We stopped short and decided it was too light and it took too long to get to our destination. WE dropped the tent and chairs and decided to go for a group of aspen just at the edge of the rock point and alfalfa field. It was brushy and would lend us cover and be fairly close to where we really wanted to be. We heard wings rustle and another gobble.

We mouthed to each other the birds are down. But we were not in position. This was not good. I was concerned Hunter Identification 101 class number two was about to begin.

We briskly walked to the aspen group and looked for a tree to sit against. Then AL’s hand flashed. A stop sign. He froze in mid step as did I just a few yards behind him. He saw the birds.

Here we were in a two point stance in the middle of a tight bunch of aspen. He whispered back to me I see him he is walking this way. WE stood still for at least 10 minutes and I could see a bird over Al shoulder occasionally the red head and the tip of a fan but nothing else a bit far off. We waited. I giggled to myself, how long is he going to keep is foot in that position, he looked like a statue of a walker in mid stride. I had to do something to amuse myself. I could only see an occasional glimpse of feathers over his shoulders. Then I saw him slowly start to raise his gun. The gun quietly reached his shoulder and was seated perfectly against his cheek. I heard the click of the safety and the boom of the 12 gauge.

I flopped him! Dad there is another one to the right of him take him! I saw the bird flopping and struggled to find the bird he was directing me too. The flopping bird was a distracting. It seamed like minutes but it could have only been seconds when I finally saw the bird he was telling me about. I took 4 quick steps the left took aim and shot. The bird moved slightly but not smoothly toward the ridge I think I hit him. Al shouted shoot again. I did.

The bird disappeared over the ridge. The next thing I saw was Al sprinting to the ridge and over he went. Out of sight into the brush. I heard him yell, you got him!!! He is big one! Huge spurs.

Woohoo!!!! We got a double!!! We did it again!!!

It was our third double together.

5:45 am class dismissed.

Tagged out times two.

Practice, Practice, Practice—Boom Done Fun

The cell phone vibrated on my desk. “Alex” blinking in the display. Odd call at this time in the work day. He is usually at class and he had already called the day prior with good news that his wrist was not broken. A Monday morning x-ray following the Friday Spring football game came up clean and that was great news.

Now a Tuesday call in the morning, this could not be good, funny how your mind will try to figure things out and put a little anxiety in your head in the seconds it takes to answer a phone.

Al said his usual “what up?” “Nothing just working” I said. “Oh” he said, “I just got out of class and they canceled my only class on Thursday. I am coming home and we can hunt together! I will be their Wednesday afternoon in time to scout and roost the birds.”

That was really great news. I had all 4 blinds placed, 6 cameras checked and had a few flocks patterned at least the best you can this season.

The blinds have been up and down a couple of times. I try and get them in place so they can get used to them. However, this year wet heavy record setting snow had me taking them down to avoid damage and resetting. It was a very late spring and the birds would strut in open patches of ground when possible. I had a cool photo of a Tom breeding a hen in the snow. So, the patterns were just pretty good guesses. If the snow finally left. I set up in the first spots that usually clear.

My season started Wednesday morning. I had been waiting patiently to get back hunting. A good spring hunt in mid-April is just what is needed to bridge the cabin fever from that last deer hunt in late December. Four and a half months of pent up hunting adrenaline.

I swallowed hard and said great cannot wait! It really wasn’t that hard to wait one more day to carry a gun into the field. Especially if I get to share it. I would even wait two days, maybe three we will not ask about what my answer would be if I had to wait four days, that would be uncivilized to answer or ask. It was worth the wait. Not going out at all would reduce the risk of seeing a Tom and taking him before Al got home. He looked forward to it. Hunting with someone and getting nothing is more fun than hunting alone and filling a tag.

Work went fast on Wednesday. I refused to look at my cameras. Stay focused and un-tempted.

I walked in the door and there he was two huge clothes baskets full of laundry. A gift to his mother. She is a special person.

The conversation quickly went to turkey hunting. Let’s go roost them. By the way did you see the huge Tom on the hill? 6:05 this morning directly in front of your blind.

Really? Cool. Glad I waited or you would not have a chance to hunt with me.

We decided to scout another piece of property the same property that I shot my buck in last fall. We had not seen the birds on camera lately and wanted to roost them to see where they were hiding out of camera range.

Task decided. I dressed in my camo and took my gun, after all it was my season and it was open. Al decided to come with in tennis shoes, shorts and “bulldog football” sweat shirt.

He did bring his brand-new Tom decoy with a fan to hide behind, so he says. Al picked it up on the way home as his addition to our collection of must have decoys.

We arrived at the small snowless field in the center of pine grove. Gave a few clucks, yelps and putts and even had some help from an angry crow and very loud owl. Even with all that it gave us no help in locating a tom heading to roost. We walked upon three hens and played with them a while moving them around and coaxing them on and off the ridge. Good practice, good patience, but no gobblers.

End of scouting. We were unable to locate a Tom. Decision set. Not there.

Decision confirmed. Heading to where the tom was on camera the morning before.

Stop thinking and start sleeping, 4:45 would come quickly and we had to sleep fast if we’re not going to oversleep and be late. Our photo recon says early appearances.

Sleeping fast and sleeping well never go together for me. This was no exception. I woke well before the alarm and was up and dressing when Alex would come and make sure I was getting up. He had a startled look on his face when he saw me standing there ready to go.

Ok let’s go. We scrambled to the preloaded truck and took the 4-minute drive to the parking spot. Yes 4 minutes. That is nice, it starts getting light at 5:30 and we wanted to get in our blind before light. We have hunted this spot before and been busted by roosting birds. With no leaves on the trees the birds an unobstructed view of the field.

We were experiencing an extremely tough spring record setting snow (15 inches) had hit less than a week ago. That being said it was followed by warm winds in the 40’s and 50’s and all but the very deepest of drift on the north slopes were gone.

The heavy wet snow had knocked down any of last year’s vegetation and made the ground quiet and soggy. The new growth of alfalfa was starting to get green underfoot and made little or no noise as we walked quickly and quietly to the set up.

This was a favorite spot that has produced success year after year. We were not the only hunters that used it and we let hunters that also hunt use our blind, chairs and decoys if needed.

We approached the blind site. Alex stopped in mid step and said. Who has the other tent just to the north of us? It’s not a tent it is round bale that got away from our farmer and rolled to the edge of the woods just feet away from dropping a couple of hundred feet down the valley.

He said “oh good, I was worried for a second.” His eyes are much better than mine and if he could not tell it was a big round bale I knew we were ok with our timing. The only reason I knew it was there was setting up two weeks prior. I set it up on a Thursday night not looking at the weather forecast.

I proudly perched myself in the recliner, feeling really good I was all done setting the blind and camera. All completed in plenty of time to let the birds get used to it. The proud feeling left as fast as it appeared when I heard the weather on the 10 o clock news. 12 to 20 inches of wet heavy snow was heading our way starting Saturday morning.

I was up at 6 am the next morning taking down the blind to avoid the damage a storm like that can do to a pop up blind. Good practice I guess and I needed it. I had a front row seat on the struggle bus unfolding the pop up blind the first time. I patted myself on the back NOT setting up the trail camera first. No on needed to see my awkwardness. We will keep them to myself thank you. The blind went down much easier that it went up. The practice helped. It took me less than half the time to reset the blind. It was 5 days later but still enough time for the birds to get familiar with it.

The blind was set at field edge next to a 12 inch poplar that I tied the blind too. The field was contour farmed. A large 150 acres plus of rolling hills surrounded by deep wooded valleys of hardwoods mostly leafless oaks and maples this early in the spring. The strip of field closest to the woods was alfalfa. Low cut and greening the made for a natural spot for the proud Toms to strut.

Behind the blind was a heavily wooded razor back rock point. Narrow and rocky stopping abruptly to a bluff that went straight down to a base where two valleys met and bordered this field on two sides. The low spot made it comfortable in Southeast and Southwest wind. West and North winds were quite another story. A natural opening with exceptional roosting areas on three sides.

We approached the blind, we had no lights just the murky light of a setting moon. No blind. At least no blind at first glance. The warm breezes that erased the snow had blown down the blind and collapsed it. Luckily it was tied off to the poplar. I confidently said “Al set up the decoys I will reset the blind.” It was set up quickly and quietly in less than 3 minutes.

We crawled in and I sat in my chair at 5:30. I could feel the little grin on my face. I got that blind up so fast and so quiet! Practice, practice, practice. Even if you did not intend to practice. It pays off. I took the smile off my face. The last time I sat so pleased with myself the weatherman rained on my parade.

We settled in, a beautiful morning 37 degrees and rising temps. Little to no wind and not a sound. No crows, No owls, No deer, Nothing. The sky was getting light, you could see the decoys clearly in the field just 15 yards away. We were facing north. The sky getting brighter to our right illuminating the tall bare trees on three sides of us. Alex sitting to my left on call only duty, no gun for him this trip, he was hear just to share. His season would be one week later.

We both pulled our phones to check the time. 5:35 not even an hour from being in the driveway and we were fully set up and ready. We could make out the tree tops around us and noticed 4 dark blobs less than 100 feet from us. They had to be birds.

We had to be exceptionally quiet now they were too close to even whisper loudly or accidently brush against the canvas and make that screechy game spooking noise that we all have fallen victim too.

We pointed at the blobs smiled and took a deep breath. I made eye contact with Al and gave him a sign “call?” he shook his head NO. I agreed we have not heard a single thing yet. Don’t be first this early. We waited and rested for less than a minute and we heard it like he was sitting on our shoulder. The gobble was loud and close. We looked at each other and got set. I pulled my gun to my knees and waited. A distant gobble answered. He rattled our silence again. He sounded like he was still in the tree. We could still see the 4 blobs on the branches but could not make out whether they were toms or hens. Another gobble followed. Another gobble answered a to the north a bit farther but plenty close to let us know we had options.

A few more minutes of silence and then the ruffle of feathers as a bird took flight. Anxiety, did we spook it somehow? Or was he just getting off the roost. Was it him or one of the hens? Spooked hens lead to spooked Toms. If she flew down the valley instead of to our field we were in for a battle.

Alex and I looked at each other without saying a thing we knew this was going to be very quick or very long. But very fun either way. The blob in the trees were starting to move but oddly quiet. From the corner of my eye I caught movement. I motion and whispered to Alex I see one. A tom! Less than 5 feet from the blind a big red head was walking out of the woods and straight at the Tom decoy Alex had set up. I slowly raised my gun. The bird was so close Alex couldn’t see it because of the angle of the window. I am sure he thought I was messing with him. How could I have my gun up already and he cannot even see the bird? The big dominant bird did not like being beaten to the field specially when there was a hen with. He moved at the decoy with a mission slow and steady, He finally was visible to Alex. The bird was moving away. An odd feeling, normally I would be anxious if a bird was moving away. Not this time, if I shot at him when he was just 5 to 7 feet away my pattern would be so small I would miss for sure. I had patterned our guns and the shotgun I was carrying had a nice tight grouping at 30 yards. At 7 feet, all I could hope for was maybe the wad holding the bb’s would knock it out or slow it down and offer me a second chance.

I already warned Alex I planned on having to shoot twice this year as my new gun was not fine-tuned yet. The Tom approached the decoy fanned and gave me a look at his back side. I was watching him down the ribbing of my barrel, he folded his fan and turned left. His last left turn. Alex whispered take him. The gun barked, the bird flopped. We looked at each other and smiled. Our phones said 5:45.

We said did that just happen? It reminded me of my first turkey hunt. A little longer but the same set up. Bird approached from behind straight to decoy boom, done, fun. That hunt got me hooked on turkey hunting.

Now what do we do for the rest of the season and rest of the day? We looked out the blind window and 3 of the 4 birds were still roosted. We were stuck until they flew down. We had another season and did not want to over educate the remaining game. The upcoming season we both had tags!

What followed was a wonderful show. Two deer graced us with their presence. Two Jakes appeared and gobble bashfully approached the decoys. Alex practiced calling to them. The hens in the trees were not impressed with the Jakes displays and stayed roosted. Behind the two Jakes just up the valley a Big Tom crested the hill fanned and gobbled. The jakes looked nervous. They just got caught showing off and now were surrounded by a big real Tom behind them and a big fake tom in front of the. Along with a big spurred dead tom a few feet past the fake. What a show. The big boy walked toward the jakes but stayed on the ridge of the hill and walked back toward the and let out a gobble. Seconds later the tree exploded with noisy wings flying over the Jakes to the Tom now a hundred yards away. Poor jakes worked so hard to get the ladies to come dance. One fan and one gobble from a mature tom and they were gone.

It was now approaching 7 am The coast was clear and we were able to gather our prize take a few photos, laugh and go home. One tag filled, one more memory that was much more than just a quick shot and gone.

Tagged out in season 1 in 2018…