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And so a few days ago, our spring turkey season ended.
I pulled a tag for our earlier controlled hunt this year, which, given the winter we just had, turned out to be a mistake. It was still very much winter for those two weeks, and though I got after it every spare moment I had, I never heard a gobble, though there was sign here and there. I think they were still in ‘survival mode.’
A few images from those first two weeks:
Still, getting up that early, day after day, allowed me a lot of great wildlife encounters – elk, mulies, whitetail, moose. It was a fine way to spend those couple weeks, coming out of a long winter. Given the lack of action locally, I decided to drive a few hours south last week, and catch the end of the general season.
I drove far up a river road, till I reached snowline, stopping and getting out and hiking around and calling, and nothing. Just as I was heading back down the road, feeling a little discouraged, I saw this guy 100 ft. from the road with a couple hens:
I went around the bend and set up and started calling. The gobbler was certainly game, and responded every time I called, but wouldn’t close the distance, so I tried stalking. Spent an hour trying to get in range, stalking as quietly as I possibly could. Even though I inadvertently snuck up on at least half a dozen different mulies in that hour, within range, I couldn’t get near those turkeys. I have an infinite amount of respect for anyone who can successfully stalk them with a bow and without a blind of some sort.
I hiked out in waning light and it was time to make home:
The following day broke with a heavy downpour, keeping me in the tent till late morning. By the time I got to my blind it was mid-day, and there was a hen turkey walking around not 10ft. from the blind. Upon seeing me, she wandered off. I spent the next 6 hours patiently calling, and nothing. Just as I was about to break down the blind while I still had a little daylight, and gobble spontaneously erupted a couple hundred yards away. I waited a minute, and scratched out a hen purr. He responded. This went on for the next 15 minutes, and though I couldn’t see him, it didn’t sound like he was getting any closer.
But then a second tom gobbled off to my right, much closer. With each successive gobble he was getting closer and closer….not more than 150ft. away and closing, coming right in on my decoys…and then I hear a bunch of noise in the drainage below and another hunter comes crashing up the hillside, and that was the last I heard of my closest encounter yet this season. I wanted to tear my hair out, but decided that having a beer and laughing would probably be a healthier response. And so my spring 2011 turkey season came to a close, with no animals harmed in the process. But there were lots of cool experiences along the way, and as always, much learned.
Till next time…
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