James's 2003 Turkey
After showing up in the area where I had roosted a bird a couple days earlier I was hopeful hunting would be good. I had hunted this area last year and, although it's on public land, figured I had a good shot at bringing home a bird. I started at first light and hiked around, talking to a few Tom's and setting up about 4 times but I couldn't get a bird to come in. I heard plenty of other "hens" in the woods, knowing they were other
hunters, even seeing a few slip through the trees, and decided there was too much pressure in this small plot of trees.
I headed back to the truck where my good friend Don Carr was waiting. He'd dropped me off at the top and driven down to wait for me at the bottom.
"Well James, any luck?" he asked as I approached, empty handed. I smiled and shook my head. "You?" I queried. Don is like the Father-In-Law I never had
so I was glad to have this time to spend with him. We usually enjoy hunting
deer and elk together, especially as he doesn't like to drive any more and I
love to hear his stories about times-gone-by while I chauffer him all around
the mountainside. Besides, he says he won't shoot an animal unless his
"Mule" is nearby to help get it out.
"About 10 minutes ago there were 2 hens walked right in front of the truck." he relayed. Figures, I thought. Just then a Tom gobbled about 200 yards
above us. My blood started pulsing through my body and my adrenaline reminded me why I was out here. "Well Don, I think I'll try to circle around that bird." I started off toward the road, figuring I could walk up it about
1/4 mile to get above the bird, since everyone knows you can't call a bird
down hill or across any obstacles. As I approached the road 2 gobblers let
out a series of gobbles across the canyon from where I was standing. Since I
had seen several other hunters in the area I was in I decided to cross the
chasm to go after birds less bothered. I had been on the other side of that
valley last year and wasn't looking forward to the crossing. The undergrowth
along the stream at the bottom takes a good 15 minutes to crawl through and
that is the reason the birds hang out over there. No hunter in his
right-mind would try to wiggle through that Amazon.
Un-dauntingly, I headed that way. Lady luck was smiling on me this day as I found an old spur road that looked to head toward the bottom of the valley,
veering to the right of where I wanted to hunt. Even though it was headed
the wrong direction I decided to see where it went. Right to the stream at a
nice crossing, then reversed back to the area I wanted to hunt, it was a
prize find! I crossed the swollen stream and started following a game trail
up the far side, angling up toward the summit of the ridge where the turkeys
were calling from. Finally, after 45 minutes of climbing, I broke into the
open area near the top. Man, talk about a beautiful area for turkeys!! I
just stood there, basking in the faint sunlight that was breaking through
the trees and enjoyed the sounds of the woods. As I refocused and started to
lift my foot to continue when there was a sudden, "BOOOOOOOM!!" as a shotgun
blast filled the quiet meadow. I had walked up within 30 yards of another
hunter, not even knowing he was there, never hearing his calling. I froze in
my tracks as I saw turkeys scatter away flying down the hill in many
directions. Quietness.....then "BOOOOOOM!!!" he shot again. Not wanting to
move that this point for fear of being thought a turkey I remained
motionless. A few minutes later I saw movement through the brush he was
behind and he came walking toward me.
"Well? You get him?" I asked in a loud, non-turkey-like voice. "Ya, I got
him." the other hunter replied as he walked around the trees and brush. We
chatted for about 15 minutes, I shared the tidbit about the road back and
the trail (he had come through the web of brush at the bottom) and he told
me there were 9 Jakes in the flock as well as 4 other birds he never saw
until they flew off. I consulted with him, mentioning my intent to try to
call the birds back in, and we parted paths.
30 minutes later I was all set up and scrunched up in the middle of a large
buck-brush plant. With my Jake and Hen decoys set up below me I was ready.
Soon I had 2 Tom's talking from across the next draw. Knowing they won't fly
across to me I was about to move locations when I had a hen reply below and
across the canyon from me. Hoping that there were other birds with her, I
stayed put. After another 15 minutes with the 2 Tom's and the hen I decided
I still needed to relocate when a 3rd gobbler started to call from below me.
This was awesome! So, I stayed put.
The next thing that happened almost knocked me over. The 2 Tom's I had been
flirting with across the canyon suddenly were gliding across to land below
my decoys! Everyone always told me you can't call them downhill or across
barriers. That whole philosophy just got tossed out the window! They landed,
2 big Jakes, and walked up past me on my right about 15 yards away. Deciding
to hold out for a long-beard I let them pass unharmed. I still had a Tom
below me and knew he was hot so I kept calling. The 2 Jakes hung out about
20 yards above me, gobbling so loud I was surprised every time they sounded
off. Then, the other Tom flew from across the canyon and lit below my spread
out of sight. My heart started playing the Mamba. This is it! After what
seemed an eternity I saw the red-head poke up from below the bluff and start
working toward me. He started circling to my left and I could see it was
another big Jake. 40 yards, 35...30...25.... The brush I was in was so thick
I couldn't swing on him. Now there are 2 birds below me working up to my
left.
Ok, I can't stand it any more. I decide that one of these guys was going
home with me. Not being able to swing to my left I had to pick my shotgun up
off my knee and poke the barrel through a hole in the brush about the size
of a softball. Jake #3 walked through my sites and then unlucky #4 came into
view. "KAWOOOOOM!" My Rem. 870 sounded off and it was over. I had planned on
hunting every weekend of the season but by 10 am opening morning I was all
done. This was good I thought as now I'm free to guide all my friends and
family that have kept bugging me to take them out. What a feeling of
satisfaction!
I collected my 17 lb. Jake and looked him over admiringly. My first Jake
(1999 & 2000 birds were long-beards). Beard was about 5" with no spurs on
his legs, just buttons. Tossed him over my shoulder and floated back to the
truck to share the adventure with Don. Boy I sure love this time of year!!!
- JB 4/15/03
