The third week of the Wisconsin Turkey season was winding down. I was tag-less and Alex had just recently filled his tag with one of his buddies. An awesome double. As the season 2018 season closes Al has been fortunate to be part of two doubles.
This is NOT a story about that. Nor is it a story about the White Sox of professional baseball.
I called Brian a very close friend of mine and asked him how his turkey season was going. He hunted the weekend with no luck but said he would go out quickly before work if he had someone to go with. I took that as a hint but told him I would probably not be able to make it on short notice. But I would text him if I could figure out a way to go.
Al came home and I said want to go hunting in the morning? He said “We have no tags what are you talking about?” I have a tag that starts Wednesday and we both have tags for the week after that.” He added some other age-related memory comments to emphasis his point but I will not give him the benefit of acknowledgment.
I said Brian has a tag and would like to go but does not want to go alone. What do you think? I already sent hin a text and said maybe but I wanted to talk to you before I bring another person on the property. I said if it is a go I would text him and tell him what time to be ready in his driveway and we will pick him up.
Brian lives 20 miles away but only 5 minutes from the field Al and his friend Brody filled their tags with a double. We talked about it and thought it would be fun. However, Al just took two nice Toms less than 72 hours ago from that plot. The chances of another bird being available in that area were slim. We talked about other options but with additional travel they would not work for a quick before work hunt. It was on the property near Brian’s or nothing. Even though we were less than confident that the property was holding a high quantity of Toms the cameras revealed a nice Tom and a bearded hen that afternoon.
I grabbed my phone and sent Brian a text “See you at 5:15. The hunt was on!”
It was nearly 9:30 pm I hope he wasn’t sleeping. No response. The decision was made we will be in his driveway at 5:15. If his home is dark we turn around and go home.
This was a whole new thing for us. No guns. Everything else but guns but we were organized and on the road at 4:45. The garage door opened and let in another beautiful spring morning, 55 degrees a light breeze. We checked our calls, our decoys, we went with a tom decoy in strut and a hen. The combo had already stacked up my bird from week 2 and Alex’s double three days earlier. We put on light weight camo and no heavy jacket, temperatures were set to rise not fall and very little chance of rain.
We hopped in my truck and started talking about how weird this was with no guns. We knew what property we were heading too but left the exact location open. We decided as we drove to pick up Brian that we would walk to the tent blind near the ridge. This blind is tucked under a plum tree and has many mishaps and successes. Including a “Big Miss” on my part with my bow during archery deer season. Realistically it was more than one but let us not digress and bring back futile memories. We had a turkey hunt to get set up. The tent openings face a trail off a roosting ridge, another faced the clover food plot which we have caught them strutting in on a regular basis and the third window is partially blocked with brush but gives a nice look down the long end of the food plot. The plot is bordered on three sides with hardwoods and the east side with 30 to 40 foot pine trees. It was an ideal strutting area in the spring and brings in deer all year long.
We also had a tent set up on another similar plot about 200 yards to the south. Nice plots in the middle of heavy cover.
Our first choice it would be the blind closer to the roost thus fitting to our work schedules better. The plan was at the intersection of the paths leading to both blinds we would call and see if they would give us a hint on which blind would be better for our quick hunt. If they were giving us the silent treatment we would stick to the blind closest the roosts. It will be three men in a blind. Tight quarters, it will be interesting. It only took us 7 miles to finalize the plan. We had 13 minutes to go and it was quiet except for the nervous growl in my stomach. Did Brian get my text? Will he be ready?
Driving east we could see the sky start to lighten. This was going to be a great weather day. Not too hot, not too cold.
We pulled into his driveway and a let out a deep breath there he was all geared up and ready to go. Coffee cup in his hand and a smile on his face. I was worried you were not going to be ready. He said “Helm, why would you say that?” I did not hear back from you on our text. “Really? I text your right back and said Ok. “ No way” I said. “Sure did.” He said. I pulled out my phone and there it was. “OK”, Damn all that worry for nothing. How did I miss it?
Move on and get hunting. “Sorry, Brian yes you did, I missed it.” I should have known better Brian is very prompt at returning messages.
“Where are we setting up?” he asked. We gave him the quick game plan as we quickly loaded the truck and headed to our designated ditch parking area which is now starting to show signs of tread ware. That’s ok it not a secret we hunt here and everyone knows our truck.
We jumped out and briskly walked up the road ditch to the property. We let Brian lead the way. He had helped us drag one of Al’s wall hanger bucks down the same path and knew the way. He had a fun spring in his step and I promised I would not make fun of he way he dresses when he hunts so I will not describe the hideous way he pulls his bright neon white crew socks over his camo pants, if he promised not to tell anyone we were just using him for his tag.
Both promises broken now we can move on. Brian is one of my closest friends, we share a minimum of 2 weeks every fall with another of my closet friends Todd hunting in North and South Dakota. We all grew up together as classmates and teammates. Sharing success on the football field and friendships off. A special kind of closeness. An “in your wedding” type of closeness. The first two guys outside the family you call with good or bad news. Two guys that are always there for you. That also leads to a good share of friendly banter that now Alex would be witness to. He does that sock thing with us in ND and SD too. When the locals start to stare when the three of us are in the convenience store Todd and I quickly ditch him and head for another isle. I am not sure what kind of terrain Brian hunts in that has two white blobs at the end of a camo patch but we gave up a long time ago. Brian is a marksman and shoots extremely well. I think he had to become an excellent shot because most of the quarry he hunts sees his socks first and starts running or flying. He has had lots of practice with difficult shots and rarely misses an easy one. We hope today is an easy one. We will hide his socks in a tent.
I know it is just his style and if you ask him why he shows off his almost reflector white socks. He makes up some story about wood ticks or bugs or keeping his pants from creeping up. Todd and I gave up long ago on being the camo fashion police. Its hunting, who cares what you look like. Unless you can give your friend some grief.
I had a smile on my face when his glowing socks led us down the path and near the decisions point. We hadn’t even made it to the path intersection and we were welcomed to woods with a not one gobble but three. They were close and on the ridge. Another distant gobble rang out to the south. We gave each other a quick smile and knew where we were going we did not even break stride.
Al dropped the decoys 20 yards in front of the blind and we tucked ourselves in the blind and listened. We set Brian front and center. Alex would be directly behind and I would take the spot to his left near the partially blocked window. That will give Brian a nice swing as the birds come off the ridge to the plot.
Al worked the calls and the birds gobbled back. The food plot was now fully lit although the sun had yet to officially rise and we would not see the sun for quite some time as it took an hour to crest the tall pines. Canada geese honked and the whistle of wings for a pair of wood ducks kept us entertained. Along with Brian’s stories.
We continued a consistent conversation with the Toms outside the blind and Brian insided. The Toms did not appear to be getting any closer. Were they still in the roost? We did not think so. The gobbles had moved some. A few closer another a bit further away. Brian kept us entertained with some stories that made us laugh and smile. But no birds were willing to interrupt his stories. It had been an hour and a half. Al and I both called he used a higher pitched slate call and I used a raspy one. Two hens talking to each other, maybe that would change our luck.
Another hen joined our conversation straight ahead of us in the pines. She was very bossy and loud. It was fun to irritate her and get her going. She was getting closer. I had hoped it was the bearded hen we have been seeing on camera.
No beard on this bossy beauty. She was the dominant hen if there is such a thing. She put on a super show. And then a booming gobble startled us from the south. From the south? She kept talking and moving around the decoys. The Tom kept gobbling. He was getting closer. We stopped calling and let her do all the work.
Now the trick was to keep her near our decoys and not let her move toward the gobbles. Plus we had three men in a blind in close quarter and she was only feet away looking in our windows.
Brian was all set for an appearance from the ridge. He slowly moved his gun to the center window. Rather skillfully without spooking the hen. We waited.
Will the gobbler show? Will he circle us? Had he already circled us. Was he one of the Toms from the ridge? Did it matter? Lots of questions without answers. I was on the spot. I had the only view from the south. Al was much better at spotting birds but could not see out that window. We had been dead still for 15 minutes now. Then a slight movement at the edge of the food plot. A flash of gray in the old underbrush. Rabbit? Deer? Turkey! Another hen coming to join the racket? No! This was a big mature red headed Tom in full strut. I whispered to the guys. I see him. He is in full strut and heading toward us.
I have been messed up by pretty ladies plenty of times to know that all it would take is for her to end this would be for her to rush over to him and take him off by herself.
The big Tom was not at all happy to see another Tom and two hens in his strutting field. He never broke fan. He was walking 40 yards straight to the decoys and the noisy hen. I said “Brian he is on his way do you see him?” “No not yet.” He replied. Al can you see him? he said “Now I do.. just over your shoulder. He is coming in perfect Al whispered. Brian are you ready?” Al now had the camera on him as he approached. The hen just had to stay with our decoys and we were in business. I see him now. Brian said. Take him when you are ready Al and I whispered in usinson to Brian. The hen started a nervous yelp yelp yelp. Oh no, did we whisper too much? Did we move too much? Was she going to mess this up? For as much as she helped us she could hurt us just as much now.
The Tom was still in full strut, he was on a string right to the crowd. He was closing distance surprisingly fast and now was crossing from south window to the middle window. The window with Brian’s gun resting on the bottom edge.
I heard the heart jumping click of a safety being released and a boom. A big flop and a startled hen yelping even more. She jumped flew a few feet and landed. She must of really been infatuated with the tom decoy.
Our laughter and congratulations to Brian finally sent her aloft.
How cool was that!
It is hard to describe the feeling. Accomplishment maybe, joy for sure, sharing success with your son and great friend is best described as grateful. How fortunate are we to be able to share time together. Twenty- four hours earlier we hadn’t even thought about heading out to try and fill a tag.
Brian did not need our help as he has filled many turkey tags previous. But never when he was on the only one with a gun. He said “Actually Helm I was kind of nervous. I saw him for so long I did not want to miss. I knew you were filming it and if I missed this one I would he heard about it all the way to the Dakotas and back.”
Brian missing a shot never crossed my mind. The big Tom could not see his socks. The shot was going to be easy for him.
Brian is TAGGED OUT …..Woo Hoo!
Brian bags a birdImpressive Footwear