Boom Boom Double

Season 4 of the 2024 Wisconsin Turkey season was less than 12 hours away.  I thought the excitement and anticipation would have faded just getting back from a Rio Grande Turkey Hunt in Texas just 12 days prior.  It didn’t.  In fairness I saw more rattle snakes than Rio’s but that is hunting, and the company was fantastic.  Our appetite still full and specially when drawing so late this year let the anticipation build more than I expected.

It was good to be out and about scouting birds.  Alex and I chose to check out the closest spot first.  The same location as last year’s success stalk and reap.  The large acreage sitting nicely on the top of hill like a big black stocking cap on a giant head.  A bald head as it was planted but nothing sprouted yet.

The birds camo nicely against the dark soil and the grass growing in the water runways covered three quarters of their body when upright and completely hid them when they stretched out horizontal to run away or hide.  But a big fan stands out like a cornflake in a bowl of raisins and that is just what we saw two cornflakes in our big bowl of raisins.  We sat in the truck with binoculars and watched them move up and down the field edge and finally pick an entrance point and look for their roosting tree. Big mature Toms what a show.

Scouting complete, we strategically selected our spot to set up in the morning.  A big cottonwood in the middle of the field. A tree  that avoided the bulldozer as the field expanded but was in a perfect position to give us good vision and good cover.

4:45 am is early no matter what, but it is more manageable when you have put your Toms to bed .  The walk across the planted field which must have been beans because the rows were too narrow for corn and too wide for wheat. The soil was easy to navigate firm and not sticky.  No breeze clear skyies the stars fading in the morning light but the white arched lights of the Hastings Mn bridge still burned brightly as they appeared in an opening to the west of the woods. The view from this hilltop is spectacular.   A perfect morning  meant  we needed no ground blind to avoid rain or wind. We sat at the base of the tree and waited for some communication with our targeted birds. 

It did not take long and the woods lit up with gobbles up and down the valley.  All distant.  We looked at each other wondering how that happened.  They must have put on their track shoes after they entered the woods and went far down the ridge.  Then boom a thundering gobble close followed by another.  There they were. 

We sat tight and waited.  The gobbles were amazing and  multiple hens thought so too.  As we sat and waited for the Toms to appear no less than 5 hens came from all directions toward the sound of the gobbling.  Some coming within 10 feet of us  and inches from the hen decoy we deployed as they looked for the origination of the gobbles just like us. 

This did complicate things.  Live decoys are always more realistic than our very well maintained imitation.  Plus 10 more eyeballs looking for danger makes it 10 times as challenging. 

We thought the birds would exit the roost where they entered.  It has worked many times before.  We thought wrong.  About  100 yards down the field we saw the first red head periscope scope the field.  I swear that was a smile on his beak when he saw how many hens were all over the field and only one a fake.  His buddy looked just as happy and they decided the real one 150 yards from us was prettier than the fake one in front of us and the real one 10 feet from us.    The morning ended with an attempt at a stalk in the exact , I mean exactly the same footsteps as our successful stalk of 2023.  That was the only thing similar.  The two toms had rounded up their hens and moved on.  A third tom tried to get in on the game and confused our stalk just enough to put us at an irreversible  disadvantage.  We retreated, went home ,then to work and planned for another scouting trip Thursday night after work.

Thursday afterwork ended up being Thursday way after work late like 6:30 leaving us to pick just one spot to scout.  After discussion we decided on my childhood hunting grounds the hill behind the home I grew up in. 

It was a quick 20 minute drive and I met Alex at the base of the hill.  In season scouting is fun because in an instant it can become a hunt. 

This might be one of my favorite places in the world.  It is where I would go for walks when I needed space.  Where my Dad taught me to hunt. I remember like it was yesterday waiting for him to come home from work, making sure all the chores were done so my brothers and I could go hunting with Dad.  We would follow behind him like 3 little goslings does a goose.  Dad with his .22 or 12 gauage shotgun and a Beagle mut named princess that loved to chase the squirrels up a tree. 

If we chose to look back over our shoulders I am confident we would have seen a huge smile on my Mom’s face. Fun to see her boys go out with their Dad. But more fun experiencing the relief from 3 boys 1 year apart with little boy energy and little boy chaos Peace and quite for her and 3 boys back after burning up all their excess energy.

This wonderful piece of land is was where I shot my first squirrel, and my first grouse. A really peaceful feeling comes over me when I visit there.  It is not with some less than wonderful memories but what doesn’t.

We decided to drive to the top of the hill and park the truck.  We were running late and I did not argue the hill was steep and I was not ready to attack it by foot in a hurry.  Not sure I ever was unless I was under 8 years old. 

As we drove up the steep farm road dug into the side hill.  The peaceful feeling left as we drove by the spot where my dad with me behind him,lost control of the tractor and planter on Memorial Day almost 12 years ago.  We had just completed planting the food plots, happy as can be.  He drove the tractor and planter I followed with a pick up.  It had been a wet year that was why it was so late completing the planting it also ran ruts in our farm road.  Ruts that caught the front tire and pulled the tractor and planter off the road and down over the steep embankment.

It was a slow-motion nightmare as I watched him fight the steering wheel and finally grip onto the steering wheel with both hands and he disappeared over the edge like he fell off a cliff.  What I did not see is what must have been an angel on his shoulder as it guided him inches from a metal t post through a barbed wire fence as the tractor and planter rolled multiple times down the embankment.  Leaving perfect circles of seed where the planter was upside down. 

I stopped the truck and ran to where I last saw my dad preparing myself for my worst nightmare.  What I heard and saw next will forever be with me.  I heard the most heart piercing scream of someone you love and look up to you helplessly stuck in the mess of wire, tractor and planter “Help Me”.  It was a weird feeling unbelievably relieved to hear he was alive but so awful to see him in so much pain.  I looked down the valley and saw he had landed on a dam of a pond. The same pond I shot my first wood duck on. Just 5 ft to the right and he would have fell another 20 feet down a steeper rockier valley.  5 feet to the left he was would have been pinned in the mess under 20 feet of water.  I don’t remember touching the ground as I descended to help. I do remember one thing.  He went from screaming for help to very loudly saying “Be careful the tractor is still running and one of the  tires is still spinning.  The rest is a bloody mess I do not care to recall as Alex came rushing back up the hill to help drag him to the truck.  Funny how it flashes back when you drive by and exits just as quick.  Dad is ok and still with us.  I thank the angel on his shoulder who guided him past the danger. 

We reached the top of the hill finished getting ready loaded our guns and were set to scout.  The recent rains made the clay soil sticky and squishy and held many puddles in the trail we were on. It might be another late planting. We took that trail to what is maybe my most favorite spot on the entire property.  It was where my first real deer stand was.  A corner post near a woods that opened up to our fields.   I missed my first big deer there and have missed a few more near the same place.  I have yet to bag a deer or turkey on this hill. But it is still my favorite place. It is not always about the filling a tag.  Alex shot his first deer in this very same place. 

We got to the opening where the trails meet or branch off depending which direction you are traveling.  If this was a managed intersection the road crews would put in a round-about in this very spot

Alex led the way and stopped motioned back to me as we snuck a peak down the food plot field for birds, nothing.  It was a great place to call to see if anything was around.  From here we could get anywhere we needed on the property quietly and quickly.

Alex motioned to me he was going to scratch out a  yelp and see if we get  an answer.  The stick was barely off the slate and a booming thunder of a response filled our ears and put a big smile on our faces. The response was near enough to us to change our scouting trip into a hunt. I love this place.

We quickly picked out a tree that could hide us both and gave us good vision to where we expected the  bird to appear.  We decided to go with a fanned tom as a decoy. The hen decoy drew little interest the previous day.

It was a great night for a sit 64 degrees little wind and clear skies.  If we guessed wrong again at least it would be pleasant.  Another yelp from Alex another answer. Alex positioned to my right and slightly back with the decoy straight out from him was leaning against the base of a scrub tree with raspberry bushes just pushing out leaves hidden nicely as was I on a similar cluster not more than 4 yards apart.

We sat quietly the tom did not answer the last yelp.  Then Alex whispered to me do you hear it?  I said hear what?  The twigs snapping, I think it is coming in.  I said it could be a deer if the twigs are snapping.  We had this happen many times a different animal than the one you are hunting visits you innocently enough but messes the whole hunt up.  Alex said lets get our guns up and ready.  I heard another soft snap and some leaves crunch.  Alex said I see one.  Do you see it?  Where ?  I said. Slightly to your left answered Alex.I moved my head slightly and very slowly and I saw it a brilliantly bright red head eyeballing the field from the tall grass between the woods and field we were set up in.  I said I see it. It is a tom.  Alex said I see him too.  In an excited whisper  he said There is another one right behind it.

The pair of Toms stepped from the grass to the corn stubble field and moved quickly towards the Tom decoy.  Their beards swung in unison as they waddled toward us  40 yards away I whispered you take the one on the right ,  I will take the one on the left on my call. I said look there is three . Another Tom picked up the pace and joined them in a race to move the intruder off their field.  I said I’ll take the middle one you still on the right one?  They were now about 25 to 30 yards away and closing fast.   Of course ,the middle one was the first to detect an issue and started to wheel, taking a quick counter clockwise turn.  The bird on the right that was slightly closer put on the brakes.  Number three put on the breaks as well.  So there we were in range, one spooky and bailing, the others wondering what was going on. 

I said “Take em “and  let my shot go.  I heard Alex shoot just a half second after my shot.  The center bird crumbled and flopped the right bird was hit but not fatally or at least not enough to give us a flop show. My guess is my shot startled the bird enough to avoid a direct hit. It crumbled at the edge of the woods near the opening they had come from.  I sat tight knowing I was slightly ahead of Alex but not dangerously.  I waited to see Alex on his feet and running toward the downed bird.  I did not want to step in front of his shooting lane if he was stil on the bird and needing to send another shot to end it.    Beside he is much faster than I am.  I saw him sprinting to the woods grabbing the flopping bird by the neck and yell to me “We doubled up!”    

This is our first boom boom double since his first bird 16 years prior.  A story that was published in a national editors magazine. 

It was exactly 23 minutes from when we started walking down the trail to us holding a pair of gobblers with 10 inch beards and 7/8’s inch spurs sharp and just starting to curl.  It was Boom Boom double ,season over. What a great place. Did I say I like this it here? Tagged Out.

Authors note: I hope these stories bring you great memories of your hunting experiences. I hope you drift off in pleasant memories in mid sentence and come back to the story with a smile on your face and peace your heart. Below are a few pictures. My favorite is the one with my Dad between Alex and I.