Charlie Elk

pseudonym of a man

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Life Beyond a Screen

September 5, 2018 by Charlie 4 Comments

My rowboat slipped quietly to the dock, as usual, the dogs were excited to disembark and get about the most critical of dog business,

Sunrise on the lake is relaxing even for a husky.

checking to see who left new scents during their absence.

The husky, Jaz,  whined while Vic snorted as they both scramble out onto the dock claws scratching on the dock boards as I held their leashes in check. The low water level makes it a bit of a challenge for me to get up on the dock and as I straighten up to look around for any incoming dog company, none to be seen so we start clomping down the galley-way only to pull up short to take in the weird sight confronting us.  It appears time has stopped!

No one is moving at this ordinarily bustling village boat landing.   There are tourists scattered about, but they are all frozen in place staring at these odd small rectangles held in the hands.  Even their small designer dogs are stopped stiffly at leash end.  Did I row us into another dimension or perhaps a Twilight Zone where time stands still?  My head snaps a look back from where we came, and to my relief, all appears normal.  The beautiful sunrise glistening on the rippling blue waves, gulls circling on the thermals, and pelicans are fishing. Other bird songs are dripping like jeweled droplets all around.  Yet, all these folks appear oblivious to sights, smells and sounds all around them.  Are all these folks unaware of the surrounding real world or is it distasteful causing the life in the screen to be more comfortable?  I do not know, except to accept the old cliche “to each their own.”

During my youth before screens became so ubiquitous an old, philosophical sage warned that screens would become windows of reality to those who spend too much time looking through them.  The human mind and eye would lose interest peering out of real windows.  A few years ago I thought of him and his insight again while turkey hunting with a buddy.  A blabbermouth gobbler was sounding off nonstop on his to our set up.  As usual, the tom was coming into my calls from behind, but no problem, my buddy is sitting at the backside of the tree.

As the gobbles sent sparks of excitement deep into my hunting soul, surely a shot will ring out soon.  The turkey was very close and moving around to my weak side, his head pulsing the colors of mating excitement.  Still, no gunfire.  What the heck, did my sidekick fall asleep, enjoying the moment or is he being generous, letting the shot come to me?  OK, whatever I am ready.  The strutter finally gets clear in front of my gun barrel.  At the roar, in my peripheral vision, I see something odd flying in the air, and my fellow turkey hunter lets out a shriek. It turns out he had earbuds in while watching a turkey hunting video.  He thought all the gobbling was from the video and never looked up from the screen.  Viewing a hunting video while hunting!?  As I have come to understand watching a phone has become a standard hunting procedure.

“To each their own…”

 

Filed Under: News, Think Pieces / Opinion Tagged With: hunting stories, Turkey Hunting, turkey hunting story, wild turkey story, Wisconsin Turkey Hunting

Wild Turkey Burns

May 10, 2018 by Charlie 5 Comments

Two hens and three toms strutted about two hundred yards ahead.  I had taken cover behind the charred remains of three oaks spaced like the legs of a three-legged stool.  Other than these oaks it is wide open between the birds and me. “What to do?” Is the recurring question bouncing around in my head; with their focus on the hens it is unlikely the gobblers will pay any attention to my calls.  Meaning the hens must go, only writers hunting on those protected game preserves call in hens who in turn lead the gobblers to the waiting gun. Wild turkeys in genuinely wild places do not act in this manner. Instead, the wild hens are jealous by nature and will try to lead the toms away rather than share.   Without a turkey dog, a scatter will not likely be useful.

As the toms fans into the strut, they are all facing away from me, and the hens are looking in my direction; I stand up to make sure those girls see me and see they do as the scoot off into the brush line leaving the deflated gobs trying to figure out what just happened.  Before they realize anything is amiss, I yammer out some forceful clucks and yelps on the slate which is the first call out of my vest, putting the birds back into a strut; Although they are standing their ground well out of range as I grab for the next call.

On my knees behind the oaks, hunched over in a semi-ball shape, boonie hat pulled low to the eyes I am hoping to appear like a turkey as the challenge yelps and clucks charge off the Tongue Teaser. I peek around, and through the blackened oaks, one of the toms is within 100 yards and closing fast, I start to shake, oh my! all this may work! How can the gun be brought to bear?  As I pick up the little 20 gauge, I feel under gunned.

My poor planning has placed the gun on the left side of the trees, it would have been better on the right side, but in turkey hunting, you go with the situation.  All three turkeys stop when I peek around for a look; gently I lay the gun down to pick up the call and striker.  My striker’s hand is trembling with excitement to the point it’s sending out a morse code rather any sweet sounding turkey talk.  I have to smirk; it’s what I love about turkey hunting, the excitement is still there.

I sway slightly side to side telling myself this is to glimpse the birds. However, it does wonders for the cramping muscles.  Not only have I seen the birds, who have moved closer, one of which is now about 60 yards staring intently at the movement in the trio of burnt trees.  The gun still lays near at the ready, and this is calming, I scratch the burnt ground with a stick and then make some clucks, exchange the call for the gun and lean to the left.

The nearest turkey is approaching in all his splendor head-on, the sound of his feathers is audible, he gobbles and the electricity of the moment envelopes all of us at this moment, in this burnt field.  It is almost a shame the gunshot deflated the moment, but that is why we are called hunters, and that is what we hunt for time and time again.

 

Filed Under: Featured Stories, Spring Turkey, Turkey Hunting Tagged With: hunting, hunting stories, Turkey Hunting, turkey hunting story, Wild Turkey

Winter Turkey Hunt; makes for the seasonal slam completion

January 1, 2018 by Charlie 10 Comments

The first question; What is a seasonal wild turkey slam? It’s the taking a wild turkey during each season of the year; spring, summer, fall, and winter.  Wisconsin turkey hunters are lucky to have a turkey season open during all yearly seasons. Usually, the most challenging bird to bag is the winter turkey.  In 2017 the first day of winter was December 21, in Wisconsin, the turkey season closed December 31 this gives a hunter ten days to complete their seasonal slam. During winter visibility is excellent against the snowy white background, everything is frozen so that all things from the ground up to your equipment makes a lot of noise that is easily heard by the turkeys.  Not to mention setting up for some “cold calling” takes on an entirely different dimension, if you are lucky some days may rise above zero with minimal wind.

Because the turkeys are in large 50+ member flocks, they can be hard to find but when located the excitement is such a hunter will forget about the cold, at least for a while.  Vic the turkey dog and I searched many empty fields and woodlots with no success in locating the turkey flocks.  Even after being invited on a “there are turkeys there for sure hunt,” we found no turkeys, lots of sign that they had been there.

During the next few days, we continued searching for turkeys, no success until, as usual, when, my attention started to wane as my mind

River’s current if flowing fast and icy.

wandered around random thoughts.  As we trudged up an old logging trail along the river Vic begins sniffing and looking towards the river below.  Some rabbit and squirrel tracks were leading into decaying treetops felled by a tornado a few years ago.   I glanced down towards the ice chunked river and seeing no turkeys continued, leaving Vic to have some fun with the rabbits.

Suddenly the crystallized air exploded with the sounds of scattering turkeys.  Earing aids under ear flaps make it very hard to hear directionally and the sounds of excited turkeys and Vic’s barks echoing off the hillsides all around… I tore off my hat; clearly, the commotion was coming from behind me and down towards the river.  Hastily as I could with the heavy insulted boots clomping along, I headed back towards Vic just in time to watch perhaps seventy-five to a hundred turkeys rising above the standing timber then soaring off in all direction including some flying across the river.   Stunned does not begin to describe how I felt about strolling past that many turkeys.  What the heck?

All the years I have hunted this area and hiked this trail I did not know there was a nearly flat bench tucked in the hill out sight from the path.  While above on the trail you can see the river just beyond what appears to be a very steep drop straight to it.  The bench is not visible, and the turkeys were enjoying a smorgasbord of acorns.  The snow cover on about five acres of ground was scratched away with all the leaves turned around and over.

Vic gave me the most exasperated look, after all the pheasant hunting we had been doing he, no doubt, expected to hear gunfire and watch some wild turkeys fall from the sky.

During Wisconsin gun deer season Vic and I frequently go pheasant hunting.

But he should know I am not real keen on shooting turkeys in flight; it’s time for us to setup and get-to calling some back before the sun sets.  Vic chose a nicely sheltered setup area; I spread out his closed cell foam pad and insulated blanket for cover he snuggled close to my side as I leaned back on my new Alps Grand Slam turkey vest.  (A very thoughtful friend gave it to me for Christmas)  I love this vest.

When it gets cold friction calls do not seem to work as well, perhaps this is due to my stiff fingers, losing the feel through mitten covered hands or the snow dust that is attracted by the call’s surface.   After sitting quietly for about 12 minutes, I begin sending out some inquiry yelps and kee-kees.  Sometime later a distant yelp answered the trumpet which I quickly answered by series of loud yelps breaking a the end as if the turkey was losing its voice, that’s my best imitation of a lost turkey.  I did that a few times and got no answer, except the 40-yard gobbler starring at us from our right and behind us.   He had not made a sound and of course as it always seems to happen this bird came in from behind on my wrong side to shoot.  When he moves behind a tree I cluck once and raise the gun while pushing Vic down,  I hate to shoot this close over his head, so we wait as the tom moves parallel along the river below.  Seems like forever before he steps into the shooting lane, at 45 yards the prototype number 9 Federal Premium TSS (tungsten super shot) dropped him dead.  Vic is released to hold the gobbler down until I get there.  No matter if the turkey does any moving or not that is one of Vic’s favorite part of the hunt.

There is still a half an hour before sunset, so we set back up to resume calling.  Two turkeys fly back from across the river and land down along the bank a bit out of range.  Vic sits up to see better; I have to pull him down and lean my body over him, the movement caused one of the turkeys to move closer in range, my last #9 TSS drops the bird.  Incredibly at the shot, the second bird moves towards us into range, one of my regular turkey loads drops him flopping on the ground.  I released Vic to race down on the flopping bird, and he gets on top it quickly holding it down until the first turkey starts twitching then he races onto that turkey.  I am moving as fast as I can to help contain the turkeys.  Before I can get there the turkey, Vic released flips over off the edge falling twelve feet down onto the river’s shelf ice, in slow motion slides off the ice shelf into the fast current and is swept away out of reach.  I had to scream to stop Vic from attempting a retrieve in the icy river, we both hate losing birds.

Damn it; the other bird is not laying there!  Where in the heck did it go?  While trying to stop the flopper, the “dead” turkey slid off onto the ice shelf below.  As insurance, I immediately shot this bird in the head again even though it showed no sign of life.  No way are we going to lose two turkeys.  It’s a beautiful hen lying dead on the ice sheet much too close to water’s edge.  The bank is twelve feet straight down; I kept from falling by grabbing roots and rocks.  Fortunately, there is a pebbled place to stand off the ice, the ice cracks as soon as I put any weight on it, the turkey is 17 feet out of reach.  I climbed back up to find branch or sapling long enough to hook the turkey with to drag it within reach.

Winter hen and gobbler called in after an excellent scatter.

I can’t recall a time when having a turkey firmly in hand felt as good as this one did but I still have to climb back up which requires both hands.  The bank was too high to throw the turkey up.  No, of course, there was no rope handy, so I did the next best thing; slung the turkey over my shoulder and clamped the leg in my teeth.  It worked.

Vic wanted a vanity shot of him with the hard-won wild turkeys.

Anyone who has hunted with me when the game requires follow up to retrieve knows I did not give up easily on the bird swept away in the river.  Vic and I walked along downstream until the light of day gave way hoping to find the turkey pushed up somewhere we could retrieve it without risking life.   We returned the next morning to resume searching further downstream; sadly we never saw that turkey again.

 

 

 

Filed Under: Fall Turkey, Featured Stories, Turkey Hunting Tagged With: turkey hunting story, Wild Turkey, Wisconsin Turkey Hunting

Oklahoma Fall Turkey Flock Finally Located

November 25, 2017 by Charlie 9 Comments

Submitted and Written By First Bubba

With nearly a week of “Fall Turkey Gun” season over, a flock of toms is finally located and patterned.

Zeroing in on where they pause to gather before crossing a creek, it’s time to set up an ambush site.

It was awesome this morning! Hard frost, no wind!

It didn’t feel that cold until I jumped in the truck and turned the wipers on. They just bumped over the dew on the windshield! It was frozen solid!

Limping off down the road, I’m hunkered down in the seat to see the way through the one little clear spot.

A dense fog kept me from making much speed, and I wandered from ditch to ditch until the windshield thawed. That didn’t make a lot of difference because of the fog! LOL! Missed my turn in the gloom and had to back up about 30 yards!

I got in my “ambush, ” and set up well before daylight, and a deer began snorting and blowing behind me, guess it spotted me setting up. That’s okay; I’m after turkeys today.

Lying on the tripod with the stock on my lap is the Winchester Model 12 16ga I bought many moons back. I’ve wanted to turkey hunt with it for a LONG time.

I hear birds back to the east. One gobbled and 2 or 3 more yelps and cluck, and then they fall silent …and I wait!

It’s 7 am, and the fog-shrouded bottom is eerily quiet. Big, pecan fattened red squirrels rip from tree to tree, barking and quarreling. The whistle of duck wings overhead is a welcome sound from my past. Seven thirty! Where the heck are the turkeys? …and I wait!

Nothing moves.

Wrens flit in and out of the weeds and limbs I used for cover.

A sudden rushing sound like an approaching flight of ducks and about 15 turkeys sprint by me and stop at the creek crossing 20 yards away. I wait until the last bird passes. Selecting one of the larger birds, the Win M12 comes up out of its rest and mounts easily.

The selected bird sees the motion and takes a step, telescoping his neck in alarm–TOO LATE! The one-ounce charge of 7 1/2’s found their mark! The smooth oily action of the M12 quickly reloads, and the shotgun covers the flopping bird.

There is an explosion of wings at the shot as the remaining birds scatter, leaving one of their numbers behind!

Oklahoma Fall Gobbler by First Bubba

 

It’s 8 o’clock sharp.

18 pounds, 8-inch beard, 3/4 inch spurs

Not a “trophy” bird, but a really nice fall bird! …AND…with my 16ga M12 Win!! I love it!

Filed Under: Fall Turkey, News Tagged With: Fall turkey, Turkey Hunting, turkey hunting story, Wild Turkey

Wyoming Snow Turkeys

July 13, 2017 by Charlie 38 Comments

In many parts of the country, July spells are hot, or July suffers hot spells, in any case, the heat can be oppressive.  While all this is happening memories of snow and frozen turkeys sound extra appealing. After experiencing an intoxicating Colorado turkey hunt that came to an end much faster than anticipated any “regular” turkey hunter would try to figure out where to hunt next.  Well, Wyoming is on the way home from Colorado to Wisconsin, right?

At times it seems like Nebraska is everywhere

On the drive north to Wyoming, hey forgot about having to traverse Nebraska too, the weather forecast for Sundance not only contained rain.  But the rain was expected to turn into snow by morning in the shadow of Devil’s Tower.  Change of plans on the fly seemed a prudent choice.  Check the Wyoming map, err; What Wyoming map?  A stop at the Sidney Cabelas fixed that problem with the purchase of aWyoming onXmap GPS map chip.  Cell phones do not work where there is prime hunting in the hills of Wyoming.

Wunderground has personal weather stations all over the country for which they provide point weather forecasts.  Due to incoming weather, my decision was to hunt much further south than usual where only rain was supposed to fall during the night. The map chip got me to a remote campsite in an area with lots of potential and high enough that I should be able to hear morning turkeys for quite a distance.

Totally content, sipping a hot cup of coffee in a snug camp I figured I’d better refresh the old memory about the ins and outs of Wyoming hunting regulations.  “You have got to be kidding!?” my brain silently screamed, a habitat stamp is required, and the kindly elder lady at the gas station forgot to mention when I asked if this is all the license needed to hunt turkeys.  Oh, well, bless her, my mother wouldn’t have told me any different.

Turkey hunting destinies do not work out in obvious ways. The jeep’s bouncing along in the dark on my camp’s trail signaling the 160+ mile habitat stamp round trip was nearly the end.  I now felt like something great was going to happen in the morning.  Thank goodness that Shopko had still been open on this fateful Sunday.

At my predawn awakening, it was evident by the sag in the tent, that snow had moved further south.  The good news, the temperature was

Wyoming spring turkey hunt welcome mat

well below freezing which ensured the Colorado gobbler was frozen solid, likely for the duration of the expedition.

At this point in the story, I’d love to write about toms on every mountain top angrily gobbling the snow away and stomping in practically tripping over their beards.  But, alas, that is not the way the day went.   This turkey hunter did his share, make that more than his share of tromping or slipping up then down hill and dale to the tune of a gobble-less day.

My body tells time, there is no sense to wearing a watch or checking a phone see what the time is, a turkey hunter must learn to operate on turkey time.  Whatever in the world that is exactly.  Unmistakably, it was approaching evening meaning it would be a good idea to move from my after dinner relaxation and into putting a gobbler to bed mode.  Camp is remote, thankfully, I shouldn’t have to travel far, just to point over there and make some turkey talk.

Stretching as I stood up from a good camp meal I put the wingbone call to my lips and let loose some plaintive lost yelps immediately answered by the first gobble of the day.  The sound echoed making it difficult to tell where it emanated from, yelped again.  By golly, those birds are close and getting closer fast!

Grabbed the shotgun and started heading for some kind of a setup.  As any experienced turkey hunter can attest a “setup” can be overrated in particular when you see the strutters heading your way across an open alpine meadow.  Hunter movement is not helpful in this case, so I artlessly hide standing behind the closest towering Ponderosa pine.

The gobbling has stopped for what seems an eternity.  A peek to see what is going is imperative in my mind.   The peek reveals two toms strutting on their toes as if a pair of ballerinas.  At thirty yards it’s time to get to the shooting part.  Mountain Merriams are not noted for how close they get to a hunter.

As I stepped around and even with the tree keeping my left shoulder in contact the far gobbler drops out of strut and begins eating!  The near tom stays in half strut while extending his neck to get a better look at the expanding tree.

This is why it is important to camp where the game is rather than staying miles away.

Perhaps he thought the shotgun was just a growing branch.  Somethings we will never know.

 

 

 

Nightfall brought clear sky with bright stars.

Nothing to do now except enjoy the evening.

Filed Under: News, Turkey Hunting Tagged With: hunting, hunting stories, Turkey Hunting, turkey hunting story, Wild Turkey

Hard to Stop Turkey Hunting

June 28, 2017 by Charlie 8 Comments

The last day of Wisconsin’s 2017 wild turkey hunt dawned quiet, very quiet; at least as far as turkey sounds are concerned.  The usual bird rush hour was in its normal fine form, but on this morning the turkeys apparently had other plans.  The season has been rewardingly long this spring from the first week in April hunting Colorado Rios, moving up to Wyoming Black Hills for a snowy Merriam and back to

Take time to teach the next generation of hunters.

Wisconsin for some youth hunt mentoring until my first Wisconsin tag validation the last week of April.  Not a morning missed, rain, shine, or somewhere in between and now here I set wearily reflecting on it all to the sounds of silence, the 30th of May with no complaints or regrets.  Yeah, I missed a turkey or two and zigged when a zag was needed more often than I care to remember.  It’s not good to focus on negative thoughts because if you do, they become self-fulfilling prophecies.

As the morning birdie rush hours fade into memory, I stand, stretch and give thanks.  Wild turkey season has come to an end for me…Until later while walking the dogs, a lone gobbler takes to flight out of the VPA field and glides lazily to the opposite woodlot.  It’s 1:30 in the afternoon, the season is still open, and I have two unpunched tags left.  VPA is private land that the Wisconsin DNR leases for public access, the field is open for hunting but as is so typical the woodlot is not enrolled, so it is closed to hunting without permission of the landowner.

The internal debate heats up; tiredness makes its nagging request just to forget him and rest.  While the prey drive says “two open tags and several hours to hunt a gobbler you can call out to kill.”

I feel sorry for the poor dogs after promising them on my return this morning that my hunt was over until the fall season and Vic would get the hunt the next time.  Funny thing about plans, they are subject to change, and here I am setting up in some long grass barely able to see the freshly planted corn field, calling on a tongue teaser to what seems like wide open empty spaces.

2017 spring’s most effective call for me

As 3:00 rolls around my sanity in some quarters would be questioned and the of quitting continues to grow in appeal.  The sun seems searing in intensity; you’d think the biting gnats would have their wings burned off, sadly it just appears to energize their bloodlust.

Time crawls to only 3:15; Has my watch stopped?  Ok, enough for one spring; as I roll off the gobbler lounger to take a final 360 look around a neon blue spot moves on my right…How in the heck did he get that close without being seen? And, as always, these birds come in from the direction least expected.

Rarely, is movement helpful when a standing tom is staring at you at close range.  However, he must have thought another turkey was moving around in the long grass causing him to up periscope for a better look-see, a fatal mistake.  I rose to my knees and looked at the twitching gobbler through the shot-tunnel in the grass.  Must be a mirage! Another tom is closing fast, heading directly to the dead bird and the end of my barrel.

Two toms, side by side.

For a moment I thought it was just a dream, so I waited for the empty field to rematerialize.  But you know, the weight of 40+ pounds of turkey over your back brings reality into focus.  On the half mile stroll back to the truck there was a moment or two when the memory of turkey tags still available and the season does not close until 8p something…hmm.

Filed Under: News, Spring Turkey, Stories, Turkey Hunting Tagged With: Turkey Hunting, turkey hunting story, Wild Turkey, Wisconsin Turkey Hunting

Are Turkey Hunts like Chess Match or Card Game of Chance?

June 10, 2017 by Charlie 20 Comments

What do you think?  Is a wild turkey hunt more like a game chess in the woods or is it more like the card game solitaire?  

Something, perhaps mostly unknown about charlie elk is the fact it took him five wild turkey seasons before he finally killed a gobbler.

What took him so long?

After all, he helped Minnesota catch grouse for the Minnesota/Missouri turkey/grouse exchange release program so he should have learned something about turkeys during that long restoration period.  Well, not so fast.  Charlie was an accomplished big game hunter who frequently stalked within longbow range of bedded cervids across the North American Continent.  And then, in the early eighties along came the wild turkey opportunities.

After finally being drawn for a Minnesota turkey license in the zone where a band of turkey nuts, including Charlie had released turkeys from Missouri years before; the young, cocky, self-assured Charlie was humbled by a bird with a brain about the size of a walnut.  It is amazing how a feathered bird-brained creature could be so elusive.

He planned all his hunts so carefully, doing research to determine in advance where the turkeys roosted, where they would want to go from roost and how they would get there, all to no avail.  Then late one morning he saw a truck with plates from Missouri pull into the parking area, an elderly gentleman stepped out walked around surveying the area and then did some cutting on a long box call.  Answered by a robust gobble, not more than 100 yards down the trail Charlie had just walked back to camp.  The veteran hunter headed down the path and soon a there was a gunshot.   The fellow came walking back with a very nice turkey over his shoulder.

The mistake Charlie had been making, in his humble opinion was that he’d been hunting turkeys using many of same tactics as he used for hunting big game.  Big game animals do things for reasons that are quite apparent to an experienced hunter.  Whereas the wild turkey does things that are apparently done for well, maybe no clear reason at all.

A lot of turkey behavior, if not most, is random, much like the shuffling of a deck of cards.  For example, if a turkey is flushed and somewhere different with suitable habitat and maybe an available hen during the spring— that turkey is likely to be just as content in the new location as he was in the previous one, he’ll just roost in whatever tree is convenient as it gets dark. Once this randomness soaked into charlie’s sometimes, most times, dense head, he has killed a turkey in every season he has hunted over the last 40 years.

 

Filed Under: Spring Turkey, Stories, Think Pieces / Opinion, turkey hunting tips Tagged With: Turkey Hunting, turkey hunting story, Wild Turkey, Wisconsin Turkey Hunting

Wisconsin Turkey Season Winding Down

May 27, 2017 by Charlie 4 Comments

As this is written there are only three hunting days left to Wisconsin’s 2017 spring turkey season.  For the most part, the toms have stopped gobbling to tip off their locations and they have started forming their summer time bachelor groups.  This is the moment some hunters eagerly wait for because when the toms are properly motivated with gobbler talk, deep sounding clucks followed by a slow raspy yelp or two. Make sure it’s just one or two yelps clearly separated and not run together.

The added challenge much like in fall hunting is finding the turkeys.  When turkeys form groups there will be more areas without and the other areas will have more birds.

After sleeping in until 5:00 a, sleep deprivation is taking its toll on me; a gobbler who has irritated me since early April by consistently strutting in the middle of a field I can’t hunt. Worse, no one else has hunted him either so all he does is strut at me nearly everytime I drive by.  This morning he was in the middle of the dirt road strutting as beautiful as a peacock with the rising sun glinting off his feathers.  I did feel a temptation to stop and shoot him or just run him over, but clearly, those thoughts were just symptoms of sleep deprivation, I just blew the horn instead.  That tom tipped me off to his roost location as he flew off.  I had a good feeling the next morning I’d get him.  He was clearly callable onto some land I have permission to hunt by a farmer who likes to have a lot of turkeys removed from his land.

 

I continued on my way to check out a hillside pocket that is only reachable by boat and since the rivers were above flood stage the turkeys should be in the “pocket”.  Sure enough, I settled in called with a few clucks, noticed a black stump that looked very much like a turkey staring at me, red-headed and all.  Figured it was a stump with a cardinal sitting on it.  There have been a lot of cardinals and scarlet tanagers this year causing excitement here and there.  Lack of sleep does that to you sometimes, so I lowered my eyelids to check for leaks.  When I opened them a few minutes later the black stump was gone; I clucked and there he was not quite 30 yards standing at attention in the wide open woods staring at the lump that was me.  Fortunately, my gun sling is always hooked on my left knee holding the barrel level out front and this tom is standing right in front of the gun barrel.  All I needed to do was raise it up and one tag for the last season was filled.

Tongue Teaser call brought em in again.

That left two tags in my pocket for Friday.  The determination to bag that most irritating strutter in the county rose to an obsessive level. That is, until Friday morning, when I forced myself out of bed, shooting that poor turkey did not seem as important as it did yesterday.

At 6:10 am I found myself laying back in a grassy field wash using the folds of the field to hide me. Lying back when you need sleep is not conducive to remaining alert.   However, the chain gobbling that answered my first tongue teaser yelp sure did get my full attention and when that yelp was followed up with some walking clucks and a single yelp to be answered by near constant incoming gobbling from two sides—sleep just slid way down the priority list.

During late seasons my Willow Ridge Tongue Teaser – Gobbler Pine Box is the call I turn to, Scott made this special for me to use in the fall for calling in gobblers.  It works whenever, the need to make gobbler calls arises.

In about 20 minutes the five toms converged on my location, marching as if on a mission to either recruit the lonesome gobbler (me) or kick his butt.  I do not which it was, for they did not get any time to explain. At mid-gobble my gun commanded silence from the first one at 15 yards.  The other four turned around marching away single file when a single cluck stopped them and turned em around for the gun to silence the second one mid-gobble at 30 yds filling my last two tags for the final season.

Late season turkeys are challenging to find, but when you do it might be double the fun.

You’d think, the season would end there…  Not in Wisconsin, there are still thousands of OTC tags left and two of those are now in my pocket.  Heck, sleep is overrated, I have all summer to catch up on it.

 

 

Filed Under: News, Spring Turkey, Stories, Turkey Hunting, Upland Birds Tagged With: Turkey Hunting, turkey hunting story, Wild Turkey, wild turkey story, Wisconsin Turkey Hunting

Grandson on The Wisconsin Youth Hunt

April 28, 2016 by Charlie 9 Comments

“Grandpa I see turkeys coming.”

“Where son?”

“Coming down the hill behind us.” Boy, does he have a good game eye, a gaggle of turkeys was weaving its way downhill in our direction.

As excited as we were to get started turkey hunting on Saturday it seemed life was conspiring to keep us from it.  The game of turkey hunting is supposed to commence in the early morning dark and span the day, and that was not the way the 2016 Wisconsin spring wild turkey hunt began for us.

10:00- Found us set up in a small woodland bordered by some Ag fields. A lot of hunters would prefer setting up a blind and spread of decoys in an area like this. My grandson, like most young hunters, prefers to be outside a blind rather than in one.  Within a half hour, the craggy bark of that old tree bit into our backs making the idea of moving very appealing.  Or was it the lack of the turkeys? We moved, several miles away.

Nugget the turkey decoy. Keeps it interesting for the young ones.

Nugget the turkey decoy. Keeps it interesting for the young ones.

10:45- We left the parked truck to hike across a prickly pear littered sand barren field, clearly an area that did not look like it would hold any turkeys, at least to the casual passerby. Down an embankment along the edge of a swamp with too much water for easy walking we headed up to a hillside step and for no other reason than there were fresh turkey scratchings everywhere we setup Nugget, (yes, he named the new decoy).  We situated ourselves in a decaying blow down.  Walker on my left.

Walker turkey 04092016

A tom like this gets the most seasoned hunter’s heart beating overtime.

11:10- Walker’s picked those turkeys out, and he knew immediately they were gobblers with a gang of jakes bringing up the rear.  With all those turkeys meandering a line towards us his excitement was quite contagious.  I must admit my heart skipped a beat or two when it becomes clear exactly how big the lead gobbler was, and he was heading directly towards Nugget.

For some reason, turkey decoys don’t usually work for me.  In spite of all those past failures a few days ago I purchased a Scheel’s decoy that had been on sale for $17.89 figuring Walker would like it.  Apparently, the lead gobbler liked her too because his focus was on Nugget and seemed not to care in the least there was a trembling 13 year old trying to get a bead on his pulsing head only 12 yards away.

For me, it was an eternity from the time that old gobbler stopped, extended his head high to get a better look at Nugget and the roar of Walker’s 20 gauge.  Then inside the scream, NOOOOO… as those big wings clawed air carrying that very large turkey up above the trees and out of our lives. Shots at turkeys do not come much more perfect than that, how could he miss?  Outwardly, I whispered, “your turkey nuggets flew away, stay still and be ready.”

The following turkeys had scattered at the shot.  Turkeys have short memories and can’t rationalize what happens, they just react.  In short order, my calls calmed them down, and they started to stroll back to us.  Now you must understand the turkeys have calmed, but my grandson is still shaking from the first encounter, there is no doubt he is rationalizing the situation.

They're back...

They’re back…

Four turkeys move back into shooting range if Walker was shaking before; this time, it’s an earthquake allowing the turkeys to bust our position and retreat.  Again I call to them, for some reason, my turkey calling calms the turkeys but still does very little to calm Walker.  Six turkeys come back in range to mill around clucking and purring their contentment.  But as turkeys are prone to do given too much time they bust us and fade away again.  At this point I remind Walker about how much fun this is, he agrees grinning ear to ear.  I ask him if he is hungry for some turkey nuggets, of course, he replies.  Then let me know when you are calm, and I will call those turkeys back, again.

After about 15 minutes Walker assures me he is ready to try again.  Soft yelps and purrs waft thru the woodland soon the turkeys eagerly answer, and I amp up the calls causing the toms to do about faces and march in; who can blame a 13 old for all his excitement, we had no blind, so there was nothing between the turkeys and us.  We were sitting on the ground, so when those birds were in close, they looked down on us.  Heck, I know some veteran turkey hunters who’d crack too.

It was important to figure out why my grandson missed that first gobbler, so I measured the distance, exactly 12 yards.  Later at the gun range he never missed a turkey target at that range and then it occurred to me;  the target was just a turkey head, not the whole bird. I forgot to tell him to make sure he picks out only the head when he shoots at a live turkey.

Filed Under: Featured Stories, Spring Turkey, Stories Tagged With: hunting, Turkey Hunting, turkey hunting story, Wild Turkey, Wisconsin Turkey Hunting

Preconceived Notions Hamper Turkey Hunt

March 29, 2015 by Charlie 1 Comment

Wisconsin turkeys laughing

Are these turkeys laughing or snickering?

A frequently asked question;  What is the one most important thing that makes a great turkey hunter?

I can’t speak to the great part, not sure what that exactly means.  Great is probably defined differently by each person.  Let’s assume great is not a video star; instead, they’re a successful turkey hunter who enjoys the hunt and bags some birds.

For most turkey hunters Preconceived Notions are the number one impediment to killing wild turkeys.

Pick up most any hunting magazine or read online articles this time of year and you’ll find a plethora of expert advice:

  • About where the turkeys will fly down to,
  • you must be there early, in the dark.
  • How they’ll travel certain routes,
  • respond to individual calls,
  • Only call once every 20 minutes or whatever period of time the author made up. All of these examples assume turkeys are creatures of habit that show up, fly down and act according to preset rules or as I’ve learned to understand this advice as Preconceived Notions.

When I started turkey hunting, I heard all the advice above and assumed it was correct.  After five turkey hunts during which I was out somewhere in the dark woods setup by a preselected tree in an area that should hold roosted turkeys.  Only to discover as the sun rose the gobbling turkeys were everywhere I was not.  There I would sit making a call every 20 minutes, after all, I surely did not want to make the turkeys call shy.  This setup had everything a turkey could want an open slightly elevated strutting area, with drag marks and scratchings all over, and this is a classic example of a preconceived notion.  This type of planning and setup works for deer, not usually turkeys.

The turkey hunting light bulb burst on in my head one day when my hunting partner was too sick to leave camp early in the morning.  Upon my return to camp, he told me about a hunter who drove into the parking area then just sat there until a turkey gobbled.  He slipped out in the turkey’s direction.  In short order, there was a shot, and this mystery hunter returned to his truck with a fine gobbler.  All of this happened while I was much further away in the dark at a preplanned location.  At that point, I was a lifelong deer hunter, and now the epiphany hit.  Turkeys are random in action.

The next morning found me on the ridge not far from camp listening with no intention of moving until the gobbling started.  When it did, I walked towards that area in the light after the turkeys had flown down.  My calls answered almost every sound the turkeys made.  Shortly a magnificent strutting turkey appeared.  My heart raced, and I forgot to shoot until he was down the ridge out of sight. Those iridescent feathers catching the multi colors of the sunrise mesmerized me, in all my years of hunting I’d never seen a more hypnotically beautiful display.  Without more thought, I propped the gun on my knee and called.  Nothing, call again, nothing called a lot, not loud just persistent and that Tom reappeared to become my first turkey.

There was no looking back since that time some 33 years ago I have filled a tag during every season.  Nowadays some hunting units allow more than one tag, in those cases, I have not always filled all the tags in my pocket but filling just one is perfect ably acceptable.

Some preconceived notions to avoid:

  • You must be somewhere in the woods before first light. Entering an unknown hunting area in the dark when you have not put a turkey to bed risks bumping the birds off their roosts before a hunter can set up.
  • Restraining your calling for fear of making turkeys call shy;   Experience teaches you when to call how much and at what volume — not an arbitrary rule established in advance of the real-life hunting situation.
  • Assuming a turkey will only travel through an area one way or that he must pass by a particular spot.  Remember turkeys have wings they can and do fly across the water, valleys and from tree to tree.  During late season hunts, gobblers have come into my calls using leafed out trees to find the hen/ me on the ground.
  • Believing turkeys have left the area due to hunting pressure, weather, etc. The turkeys are always there even when they can’t be seen or heard. Turkey dogging has taught me turkeys will lay on the ground unmoving and unseen as a hunter passes by.  However, a turkey dog finds those birds, and in the fall I’m shocked at how hard it is to see one laying on the leaf-strewn ground a few feet away.

Filed Under: Spring Turkey, Think Pieces / Opinion, turkey hunting tips Tagged With: hunting, Turkey Hunting, turkey hunting story, Wild Turkey

Double Tongue Gobbler

February 16, 2015 by Charlie Leave a Comment

The height of the red oaks provided the turkeys a long glide path.

The height of the red oaks provided the turkeys a long glide path.

The wild turkeys flew down before shooting light this morning in Wisconsin’s unit 3 area.  First the hens pitched off their roosts at 5:15 hitting the ground running like they had somewhere to be.  They must have nests they needed to tend to.  The gobblers sounded off and pitched off roost shortly after and that’s where things got interesting.   Their fly downs were more like long range glides carrying them well out my sight and hearing range.  In the “big” woods of areas of Clark County this makes for a challenging hunt because the toms just keep ranging further out all day long while giving the hunter little indication of where and which way they are heading.  These toms had a lot of altitude off their red oak  roosts so I figured they would have glided out a ways, I took a compass bearing and headed in the direction they went.

A lone gobble slices through the morning silence, distant, as in, across 2 creeks and in the middle of the swamp.  There are dry islands in the swamp but the water is too high for causal wading out to them. The trolling box call is put away and replaced with a Tongue Teaser.  After a couple of yelps and bionk clucks a  gobbler joins me on the trail staring intently in my direction about 40 yards away.  Oops, busted and game barely started. Big wings clawed for air as he took flight to parts unknown.  Where  there’s one turkey usually/sometimes there are more and now it’s  past time to get setup.

I select two different Willlowridge tongue teasers calls one built from purple heart and the other made of chestnut are placed in the go position ready for some very robust aggressive calling.  On mornings in the big turkey woods I have learned aggressive calling works best to bring in turkeys.  Once they get interested a hunter needs to keep them hooked with no slack in the audio line, for if slack is allowed toms will usually get distracted and throw the hook.  At this point in the game I’m thinking that distant gobbler or the one who flew away are the best chance.

Alternating between the calls I cast out course yelps, aggressive purrs and clucks for about 15 minutes elicited a  gobble which I answered immediately and continued cutting his gobbles off midway at each gobble.  The gobbles were getting closer and I must admit I was playing around more than really expecting the turkey to travel all that way across the two creeks to me.  Before I knew it, not only did the gobbler arrive but he brought a gobbling buddy.  Both turkeys went in and out of  strut as they closed the distance, I continue to cluck whenever they could not see me.  Only one turkey gobbled the other just strutted along silently.

As the toms cleared brush entering the open red oak woodland they did their final strut and pirouetted.  When the fans blocked their heads the tongue teaser gently slid onto my lap as my Remington rose to target…  Unfortunately for his buddy, the silent buddy offered the first clear headshot and I took it.

 

Purple heart and chestnut tongue teasers closed the deal.

Purple heart and chestnut tongue teasers closed the deal.

 

 

Filed Under: Spring Turkey, Stories, Turkey Hunting Tagged With: hunting, hunting stories, Turkey Hunting, turkey hunting story, Wild Turkey, Wisconsin Turkey Hunting

Lucky Striker Turkey

May 27, 2014 by Charlie Leave a Comment

This gobbler seemed so easy at the  start, it’s now been 2 hours and quiet has settled in with no response to any call.   He gobbled and moved closer only to fade off as they so often do.  In the meantime there were many gobbles off somewhere else causing my stiff body to yearn for another setup.  A little while longer, his last gobble was so very close he can’t be far.

After another half hour or so with more gobbles echoing through valley I succumbed to the move bug.  Planning to return later I crept as quietly as possible back to the boat.  While stowing my gear I noticed my favorite striker was not in its designated pocket, must be back at the setup. My gaze noticed my gun laying in the boat, a quick internal debate decided it should come with even though it is a short hike to the setup.

Lucky Striker (1024x326)As I bent to pick up the wayward striker laying right where it had been set the feeling of something staring came over me.  Slowly my eyes rolled around scanning the woods, nothing… I grasped the striker and rose to leave my  hunter’s scan continuing to look for the out place line and there it was as my back straightened to full height a tom staring in my direction.  He continued advancing towards me in a juking head zigzag obviously searching for the hen who had so seductively called for so many hours.

Wild turkeys have a sharp eyesight so the slightest misstep now would send the turkey off to safe refuges only turkeys know.  Gently I leaned my left shoulder against the aspen, it had the same dappled color tones as my camo.  At this moment the tension in the that woods was stifling.  The purring turkey would take a step or two then stop, look and listen.

My right hand readied on my  gun that was pointed at the ground  in line with  my leg, both (my gun and I) were doing our best impersonation of that little tree as the turkey had slunk well within range.  The left hand must soon be brought into play…

The turkey’s head crossed behind a small tree as he started to puff into strut thought the better of it and increased his pace apparently satisfied the hen was gone there was no reason to stay.  Fingers loosened from the striker and grabbed the forearm of the rising shotgun,  my body rolled around the tree now turned to face the turkey.  The tom should have run or flew but as is so often the case they stop to get a better look when they see movement from where they expected to see a turkey.

As the roar of the gun subsided there was barely a break in the other springtime sounds.  Just me with a lucky striker laying on the ground pointing at a dead turkey.

IMGP1103 (1024x560)

Filed Under: Spring Turkey, Stories Tagged With: 2014 spring turkey, Turkey Hunting, turkey hunting story, Wisconsin Turkey Hunting

Sometimes It’s Easy

May 7, 2014 by Charlie Leave a Comment

Season-C-Unit-2-Wisconsin-Turkey

It was one of those rare magical turkey hunting mornings yesterday, when the weather is beautiful & the turkeys are loud & suicidal.

Morning alarm set at 3am, 70 mile drive to northern unit 2, in the woods before 5am, turkey down at 5:30am.  Nice size, 22+ lbs.  5+ pounds of turkey breast to be smoked at Maplewood Meats.

I had planned to hike in about a mile, most of it no-trail, to a wooded ridge.  But turkeys gobbled nearby while I was getting out of the car.  Set up just a few hundred yards in, 100+ yards from two competing gobblers.  Then I fixated on a bunch of brush about 8 yards in front of me, worrying that I wouldn’t have a clean shot.  So I stupidly crawled forward & snipped branches.  Bad move.  I never heard the two gobble again.  But somebody must like me, since a third soon lit up 200+ yards out in a different direction.  I only ended up calling twice to bring him in, soft yelping & clucking.  He came in quiet the last hundred yards, stopping to strut every half dozen steps.  While I was tagging him & taking photos another nearby tom began gobbling & was still gobbling as I walked out.

It was the 3rd day I hunted, & the first decent weather day.  The other hunts had several non-turkey critter adventures involving a fox squirrel, multiple deer, & a coyote.  Had one turkey near-death Thursday.  The tom was 60 yards out, coming uphill gobbling to me when a doe & two yearlings stepped out between us.  Never saw them until they were in front of me.  Incredibly they lingered for 15 minutes 15-20 feet from me while the tom gobbled & plucked on the other side of them.  A lot more to that story, but the ending was no turkey.

Interesting thing about the online harvest count.  I looked at the Zone 2 number when I registered just before noon yesterday.  Then at 5pm I refreshed the page.  The count went up ONE, me I assume, from 6249 to 6250.  Later at 9pm a refresh added 95 more, where it stays this morning.

Filed Under: Spring Turkey, Stories, Turkey Hunting Tagged With: 2014 spring turkey, hunting stories, Turkey Hunting, turkey hunting story, Wild Turkey

Looking Gift Turkeys in The Beak

April 27, 2014 by Charlie 4 Comments

The gobbles carried down to the valley floor as if the toms were spectators in a coliseum cheering on their favorite hunter. With an open tag in my pocket I found the sounds of those turkeys remarkably soothing. So it was on opening day 2014 of Wisconsin’s season B wild turkey season. To use a cliché “Let the games begin.”

Frequently I am asked “How can gobbling turkeys’ sooth and relax you?” There was a time in the beginning when those gobblers fired up my nerves and I would dash from gobble to gobble, seriously, running and gunning to the point of exhaustion by the quiet time of 8:30. I would collapse at the base a tree catching my breath and a bite to eat wondering what I did wrong. Early on a lot of turkeys I killed were more happenstance mainly because I stayed in the woods while most other hunters left for breakfast. Those were heady days of heart pumping adrenaline turkey hunts. But now I take things in more methodically, or at least think I do. I force myself to relax and think.

Somewhere along the line I came to realize there is no rush or at least not usually to get to the gobbler. Instead it is better to take a reflection moment to pause and analyze; where those turkeys are, which direction are they facing, how many are there and are they in the same tree or neighboring trees? Are there any soft clucks, ruffling feathers and wings of other turkeys between me and the noisy gobblers? All this helps determine the most approachable turkeys.

Decision made, I head to the west turkeys moving quietly keeping as many treetops as possible between us as possible. There are no leaves yet and roosted turkeys can see long distances very easily from their roosts. 5:30 finds me comfortably setup with 2 or 3 birds gobbling a welcome to the dawn just uphill about 150 yards. Let the conversation begin – my teaser call makes soft yelps and instantly gets the turkey’s attention. I hear them turn on roost, they are now facing me. The hunter’s life is good.

Should have called more aggressively a group of hens yelp from the field above my toms turn to face them. I call loud and hard they turn back my way making the hens madly vocal. Yelps and scrambling wing beats are answered by my frenzied calling then all is quiet. I could not tell where they flew the sounds echoed back and forth across the valley. Soon it was apparent they’re on

Fading away gobbler.

Fading away gobbler.

the ground at the top of hill. I put my Tongue Teaser into aggressive mode, chain gobbling erupted and started closing the distance. They were coming down hill fast hitting the logging trail drumming loudly. Red and blue heads passed by in range behind my bead. It was only about 6 on opening day with one tag in my pocket and good weather in the forecast the gun stayed silent as the gobblers faded away. I don’t usually look gift turkeys in the beak but after a long winter of anticipation it was just so early in my season. It felt good to hunt.

Years of wild turkey hunting will train your ears to hear all the subtle sounds of spring. Wild turkey hunters develop a deep appreciation for the season’s sing songs. However, when a deep throated gobble rumbles out and off a valley laser like focus hones in the source.

I crossed the valley ascending the other side as quietly as possible to within 70 yards of the hard gobbling turkey. He answered and moved towards my calls only to hang up. Then all went quiet.

My setup was not as good as I had thought, downright uncomfortable with some serious visibility issues. I noticed if I side-hilled about 50 yards visibility would be much better. Scoped out a course that would keep brush from scraping on my vest and “turkey walked” my way to a much better setup. Unless turkeys start making noise I’ve learned to always wait for the settle to take place after a move.

After a bit of trail breakfast I heard a distant gobble on land I can hunt, he gobbled a few more times as I considered whether or not to pursue. I cast out a long loud audio line to see if I could hook him…

The deep gobble erupted with authority close by from somewhere on my left – time to get ready for the shooting part. As is a common behavior the turkey appeared before I could get ready. A sight to behold as he strutted closer swinging his beard sunlight dancing on bronze feathers. No trees big enough to block his vision so no gun moves for me. Long delicious minutes passed as he strutted, drummed and shook to refresh his feathers for the next display.

While fanned out he turned away from me, the gun shouldered into position. Perhaps he heard something or maybe that 6th sense that speaks of things amiss. As his head rose out of strut a single shot ended my first of 2014 Wisconsin wild turkey season within 3 hours from its start.

first 2014 spring gobblerAs he lay still on the carpet of last fall’s leaves I sat by him slowly stroking those bronze iridescent feathers that even in death catch and bend the light. Appreciation and reflection is good for the soul. That being said–Never look a gift turkey in the beak and if you do – DO NOT do it twice in the same day.

Filed Under: Spring Turkey, Stories, Turkey Hunting Tagged With: 2014 WI turkey permit, featured posts, Turkey Hunting, turkey hunting story, Wild Turkey, Wisconsin Turkey Hunting

25 Below Zero Turkey Hunting

January 6, 2014 by Charlie 3 Comments

Last night a farmer had called inquiring why I had not been out turkey hunting on his farm? Last time Vic and I hunted this farm there were no turkeys, that happens a lot during fall turkey season.  The turkeys are there and then they are not.  My farmer friend continued “As of a couple of days ago he said there had been a turkey invasion.”  OK 2 days of fall turkey season left–time to squeeze in a Wisconsin unit 3 hunting trip.

The truck’s thermometer said 25 below I as stepped out into yesterday’s unit 3 sunrise.  The frigid air started crystalizing around my face instantly and the snow screeched with each step of my snowshoes.  All I could think is how dangerous a turkey addiction can be.  But waiting for a warmer day is not an option with the season closing in only 2 days.

Faint sun dogs on the morning’s horizon outlined the roosted turkeys. There were turkeys roosted nearly everywhere along the field edges.  The only approach available is across a barren snow covered 140 acre field and those turkeys.  Hiding from all those sharp turkeys eyes was impossible so all the noise of my approach did not matter.  What does matter in this situation is the directness for a hunter’s approach.  By that I mean if you were to walk in a straight line towards the turkeys they will get very nervous and flush.  Usually a good thing during a fall hunt, if the turkeys break apart and head off in different directions.  That is Vic the Turkey Dog’s preferred strategy.  However due to the intense cold Vic is not on this hunt, he has no coat to keep him warm during a prolonged cold setup. Cold of this magnitude affects all dogs so I grudgingly left Vic at home.

My approach towards the turkeys was indirect, a steady meander across the field to a  shrubby point that had frozen wild grapes, dogwood berries and elderberries.  This setup put the turkeys at an angle to my left that way if things go according to plan the turkeys coming off roost will be approaching on my strong shooting side.  Many years of hunting turkeys have taught me turkeys do not seem to remember danger after a period of quiet waiting.  So after a long silent 20 minute wait, -25 makes a 5 minute wait seem long, 20 minutes feels like hours.   I belted out the first series of assembly kee’s to the still roosted turkeys.  Feathered wings began shaking off frost and a bunch of turkeys sailed off roost passing by and  stumbling to their landing in the field about 25 yards  to my right- a gobbler rolled dead at the shot.  Large wings stirred up a whirl of snow crystals as they clawed their way back into the sunrise.

As anyone who has been out in serious cold temps knows a lot of things don’t work in this kind of cold, various body joints, mechanical parts,  particularly anything electronic and this morning that included my camera.  As I trudged back across the field I could the turkey getting stiffer the turkey was frozen by the time I reached  the truck for the drive home.

A gobbler from a different hunt. My camera did not work at 25 below.

A gobbler from a different hunt. My camera did not work at 25 below.

This was my coldest turkey hunt ever.  Over the years I’ve been asked what makes me do these extreme hunts?  Interesting term as I don’t think of them as extreme.  It’s mostly simple I look forward, no I obsess over the next hunting season, my quiet prayer is “Oh God, please just one more season.  So if the season is open, no work on the schedule (that can’t be rescheduled) and  an open tag in my pocket it’s a good day to hunt.

To me the best part of hunting is getting into the hunt, being immersed so that no other day to day mundane problems enter the mind.  It’s a  mental preparation so that you are not thinking about any discomforts, undo home front tasks or checking the happenings on the grid.  A sense of freedom washes over and through the soul of a hunter.  It’s just you, the weather, the turkeys and the surroundings.  If not for those turkeys that morning I would not have been there.  Had I not been there I would not have the seen the sun dogs at sunrise, heard the squeak of the snow nor the frosty feathers being ruffled as the natural morning wakeup time arrived.  As a hunter I was a participant rather than just an observer.

Filed Under: Fall Turkey, Stories, Turkey Hunting Tagged With: hunting, Turkey Hunting, turkey hunting story, Wild Turkey, Wisconsin Turkey Hunting

Snowbound Turkeys & Hunter

May 30, 2013 by Charlie Leave a Comment

This is a turkey tale during the May snow storm of 2013, the turkeys who lived in it and the hunter who hunted in it.

This adds a dimension of challenge I had never in my turkey hunting life dealt with.

This adds a dimension of challenge I had never in my turkey hunting life dealt with.

I stepped out the door into knee deep snow, my first thought “Is it really May?”  Yes it was May in Wisconsin and the 4th week of spring turkey season had begun with 20+ inches of grainy wet snow.  The deafening sound of trees giving way under all the snow’s weight gave me pause; and I wisely chose to hunt the next day instead.  In the old days we called those crashing trees and limbs widow makers.  I don’t often change hunting plans but I have a lot of respect for widow makers.

The sun struggled even harder than me to get up the next morning and it, the sun, did not make it up.  Well, it might have been up it’s just all the snowy drizzle clouds might have just been blocking my view.

Not a turkey could be heard so I setup for some cold calling.  Ten minutes into my first set of lost yelping – a GOBBLE!  But it sounded odd with a kind of deadening muffle to it.  His red head stuck out harshly against the white landscape, something about his movements were very strange…

This gobbler could not walk on the snow either, he sunk right to his breast and this manned up turkey was not about to let a little snow get between him and a damsel, I mean hen in distress.  Never before had I seen a turkey clawing the snow with their wings with move forward.  It had to be tiring; soon his great wings lifted him up onto a large snow covered oak branch.  He trudged back and forth causing the snow to fall off.  Kind of like he was shoveling a strut zone and strut he did.  I was not sure if his booming gobbles were causing the scattering of the snow on surrounding trees or if it was from a breeze up above.

This gobbler’s show was worthy of an Oscar as time slid by unnoticed.  He gobbled, I yelped trying to sound as lonely and cold as I felt.  We were a fine duo him and me.  If he had not been out of range our song would have ended before all those other turkeys came flying in.

That’s right, more turkeys, 5 hens, a jake and 2 more gobblers flew in to apparently start up a choir.  Snow scattered filtering its way to the ground.  The turkeys fluttered from limb to limb cackling, clucking and gobbling to an unseen director.  My numb hands could not keep up the right tempo on the crystal pot call.  I could not get any of those turkeys to move a few more trees over towards me and since they were up above me  I am quite sure they saw me;  but they gave that no clue to that.

For over 3 hours or so it seemed; time was irrelevant, those turkeys entertained, taught and frustrated me.  They had quieted down while feeding on the oak buds and blossoms eventually fluttering away to do whatever it is turkeys do on snowy May days.

Filed Under: Spring Turkey, Stories, Turkey Hunting Tagged With: 2013 Wisconsin Spring Turkey, turkey hunting story

Wisconsin Mississippi River Backwaters Turkey Hunt

January 13, 2013 by Charlie Leave a Comment

At least they were there

At least they were there

2011 Spring, unit 1 Wisconsin Turkey Hunt somewhere north of La Crosse on the Mississippi River

Hunting some flat lowland was a treat after all the snowy, wet slippery hill climbing of season 2.  I could only hunt the weekend of season 3 and still had the snow mixed with rain plus a little high wind just to keep things interesting.  I found a sheltered area where the turkeys were hanging out in very good numbers and responded well to lost hen yelping.  Truth be told I whiffed on a bunch of gobblers Saturday they just kept picking me out and walking off before I could shoot.  Apparently I was wearing the wrong tree so I vowed to change camo for tomorrow’s hunt.
Even though I was damp and cold Saturday I stayed until a gobbler roosted, marked the spot on the GPS and arrived  back at the boat landing just darkness settled in.

Oh dark something Sunday morning:

The choppy waves banging on the jon boat’s front made enough noise that I was sure would scare away all the  turkeys before I setup.  He flew down Sunday in the early dawn light at 5:30 gobbling like crazy in the 20+ mph wind and sleet. He circled to my right side within 6 ft where there was no way to shoot, then circled back around the fallen tree top to the front.  At 8 feet he was head on gobbling at me non-stop for what seemed an entirety, my gun drooping from the sling hanging on my knee. He was so close  turkey spit was soaking my headnet with each gobble. No chance to even blink. Finally he raised his head up turned it sideways with a branch blocking his eye, my gun was mounted as he juked his head for a better look; the wad never had a chance to open. #5 shot turkey head

river turkey

 

 

Filed Under: Spring Turkey, Stories, Turkey Hunting Tagged With: turkey hunting story

Round About to Turkey Hooked

July 29, 2012 by Charlie Leave a Comment

To me hunting is not a sport, it is not a hobby and certainly not just another pastime; rather it is a “way of life”. Hunting is woven into every fiber of my being I must hunt in order to be whole, much as in the manner religion fills the yearning voids of spiritual need.

When a hunting season is not open I am planning my next; I am out there watching, learning and listening.  More importantly, I am always hunting for that insight; you know; those fleeting moments when you see clearly the reasons…Then it’s gone just as fast as it came and on goes the hunt. But there are epiphanies, those moments when you understand a small piece of the driving force.   

Turkey hunting did not grab me or more accurately infect me for several seasons. Originally turkey hunting started as an add-on hunt; in other words turkeys are only thing in my neighborhood available to hunt in the spring unless you consider bowfishing a form of hunting.  Some do, some also consider fishing a substitute for hunting, but alas, for me, fishing does not quench my parching thirst for the hunt.  

For several years, in the spring, when a 5 day permit could be drawn I’d halfheartedly turkey hunt and at times accidentally kill a turkey. Oh, I thought I was really turkey hunting mainly because I did not know any better and no one would ever have convinced me that dead turkey was an accident.

Until… A realization dawned; there was more to successful turkey hunting than hearing a gobbler, setting up, scratching a call and blasting him.

In truth turkeys are dumb, random in action and down right complex all at the same time. That is assuming you go out to kill one on purpose and not by accident.

What is an accidental turkey kill?

  • You come around a bend in the trail to find a strutting gobbler – Bam.
  • You set up on a trail, do no calling, turkey flies off roost and walks the only trail to the only food source – Bam.
  • You lay against the trunk of a tree sunning yourself to nap, crack an eye see a bird – Bam.

Nice but accidental kills none the less. Yea I have had some “easy” turkeys but more often than not they have required some work, a lot of work plus strategy. These easy turkeys do not hold a candle to; putting one to bed, arriving before the hint of light, setting up and being part of the first turkey conversation of the day. Hooking that bird with your calls and bringing him in on the audio string, playing him like a fiddle or like fish on light test line careful not to break it before – Bam. Walking through the big woods lush in bloom of spring flowers; casting out your audio line anticipating the strike—set the hook and play in the string – Bam. The turkey offers a complexity like no other game. It needs to grow inside the hunter like a fragile seed planted in fertile ground. No one can place it there and you can not force it. Be patient. In the meantime enjoy your hunts with open heart. Mr. Turkey will take care of the rest and you too will be become “turkey hooked.”

Here is the moment I got turkey hooked.

Dawning of an understanding

One of the hardest things for me – a hunter is explaining why I hunt. Like those who have tried to justify hunting before me I feel a certain humble inadequacy with the subject. My insight into this question is no better than any others and you can learn from the greenest of hunters…….While elk bugling into Circle Creek Valley from high up on Saddle Mountain in Colorado; the young lad upon hearing a response exclaimed “he is talking to me, he’s talking to me!” Whereas my thoughts had just turned to a satisfying meat-laden pack biting into my shoulders. The lad was more right in his assessment of that for which I am forever grateful for that epiphany. A subtle and at the some time profound observation, for at that moment we had truly become a part of nature as participants.  It carried forward into my next spring turkey hunt – “he’s talking to me!” In quiet moments I’ve thought how strange to have gotten “turkey hooked” on an elk hunt with one so inexperienced.

Filed Under: News, Think Pieces / Opinion, Turkey Hunting Tagged With: Turkey Hunting, turkey hunting story

Druming & Spitting Turkey

July 1, 2012 by Charlie Leave a Comment

At least they were there

Once upon a time turkey hunters had to stop hunting at noon.

Now all states I hunt in are open to sunset or 20 minutes after. At one time we referred to this as cruel and unusual punishment. 4:30 a.m.  to 9 p.m. is a long day. Long gone are those  idle afternoons with time to relax and and recharge because I have now discovered  gobblers are active all day long so if you want to do the Snoopy Dance,  you have to be there.

The Wyoming Black Hills are one of the hardest places I have ever hunted turkey.  Late in the afternoon, on the last day of the hunt I heard a half hearted gobble at least a 1000 feet up on a plateau. After gasping in as much of the thin air as possible I set up with my back against a large ponderosa pine.

After 45 minutes of calling to dead silence some kind of liquid started hitting my neck the sun was shining so I assumed the pine was sapping.  Never mind a little bit of sap somewhere behind me a turkey’s war drum was starting up. Thinking he  was over on my strong side I shifted slightly to get readyas more of that dang sap splashed  my neck.

Suddenly there was a thunderous gobble; startled and spinning around a  Merriam  5 feet away bugged eyed and frantically wing-beating to increasing that distance.

Was what I thought pine sap really turkey spit?

Filed Under: Humor, Stories Tagged With: Turkey Hunting, turkey hunting story

Sunrise in the Woods

June 18, 2012 by Charlie Leave a Comment

Sweat is trickling around on my skin with my breath coming in long steady gulps trying to satisfy the hungry lungs burning in my chest. False dawn provides a twilight feel as I rest, listening for the faintest hint of a turkey, rustling feathers or the scratch of feet shifting on the bark of massive oak limbs overhanging my steep hillside trail.

I am here due to a sudden change of plans, last night a good buddy called to report he heard a gobbler while fishing on the Mississippi River yesterday afternoon. He quit turkey hunting a few years ago, a situation I have failed to remedy. Being the kind of fellow who is always looking for a way help someone, he called knowing I would be interested even though that turkey was atop a heavily wooded cliff, which around this area is usually referred to simply as a bluff.
Since there had been no vocal birds anywhere else I’d been hunting; more than willing ears absorbed this hot turkey tip.

At 5:00 am I found myself at the base of a 500-foot bluff thinking just maybe my friend was playing with me, the mental picture of him holding his laughing stomach, face contorted in mirth caused a moment of hesitation every turkey hunter knows when he starts to think about being somewhere else.
There was no turkey talk going on, a beautiful but silent morning and I’m in an area my boots had never before trod. Up the old logging path, hooting and cawing.

At the top, the woods was open, 5:45 not so much as a cluck.
I set up on the most comfortable tree of the season the sun just a red glow peeking over the horizon at my back. Fighting off a bout of tree trunk narcolepsy I made my first calls – quiet yelps, rising to cackles.  Nothing. Let out a series of lost yelps and kee-kees. Still and quiet.

About 6:10 red pinkish sunrise light is filtering thru the upper story leaves dancing and flickering a rainbow of colored bars all around throughout the woods;  a gorgeous unbeatable morning, certainly worth the hike as my mind strains to absorb it all into the pages of my mind.

There – I know not,  from where he came; the most outrageously beautiful strutting turkey I have ever seen; bathed in the glow of those multi-colored beams of sunrise. Irradiance feathers caught and shimmered those colored rays of light changing into little starbursts of color skittling across my glasses at me as he pirouetted on his toes in a manner that would make any ballerina jealous.

As I had many times in the past, I gazed intently over the gun barrel usually a natural thing at a time like this, but it seemed harsh and so out of place this morning. Tomorrow is another day.

Filed Under: Spring Turkey, Stories, Turkey Hunting Tagged With: turkey hunting story

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