(Like usual I planned on making this short and sweet but I get a little carried away once I get into it...)
Spent the last three days in Neb. hunting turkeys with my bow. Sorry, no hero shots, but thought I'd give the report anyway. Growing up in Wyo I never had the slightest interest in turkey hunting, but decided to give it a shot one season while living in Neb. and now I'm as addicted to it as just about any other hunting.
For the last five seasons I've been hunting turkeys spot-and-stock style with my long bow. NOT EASY. But this past weekend I was hunting with the kid I use to mentor so we decided to simplyfly thing and hunt out of a blind (which would turn into a challenge in it's self!).
Well, as we sat there discussing his grades and showing him how to use a rangefinder a caught a glimpse of movement out the back of the blind. My look froze him and his eyes widened. I whispered, "turkeys behind us." They snuck in silent, none of the usual "puts", "purrs" or "gobbles". I decided since they were coming in on our left that I was in best position for a shot and had him reposition a little as I folded up my stool. Until that moment I hadn't realized that this kid had grown about 20% in overall body mass since the last time we'd hunted together! He "repositioned" just about as gracefully as if I'd had a D-9 Caterpillar dozer in the blind with me!:D
Eventually I got settled and came to full draw. I hear a panicked whisper, "YOUR ON MY FOOT, YOUR ON MY FOOT." Not feeling anything I lift my knees and feet one at a time hoping the kid can free his foot from whatever part of me it's being crushed under...."OH OH OH YOUR STILL ON MY FOOT, OH MY FOOT." I block him out and he goes quiet, deciding there are more important things at hand.
In the meantime the turkeys had of course turned their full attention to this strange looking, noisy, vibrating, camouflaged box that had invaded their habitat. The lead Tom was frozen two feet from a clear shooting lane, looking back and forth between our blind and the friendly, inviting looking decoys next to us, pondering whether to trust his instinks and run or his hormones and go in for a closer look at these pretty decoys.
The Tom went with his instinks.
As he lead his pack off the trail and deeper into the cover I quivered with adrenaline and struggled to find a clear shooting lane. No such luck. The turkeys walked away, nervous but not outright educated and I let down my draw.
The kid mentioned, "You sure were shaking, haha!" I explained to him I was just a little excited and that coming that close to letting an arrow fly got the adrenaline flowing.
About an hour later we watched as two groups of turkeys roosted for the night. One group to the south of us, one group to the north of us. As anticipated I had to explain to the kid that, "no, shooting turkeys out of a roost tree is illegal." To his chagrin we took "the long way" back to the truck to avoid disturbing the turkeys.
The next morning we were throwing up the blind amongst an onslaught of gobbles and cackles as the two groups of turkeys yelled back and forth over our heads as their morning warm up routine before jumping out of the trees. As we sat in the blind, now on slightly higher ground, about ten feet away from our spot the night before, we were in better position to shoot over most of the brush and grass that blocked our lanes the night before. As the turkeys flapped loudly down from the trees most of the gobbling stopped except for one small group that stayed in constant contact with every one of my moderate to moderately lousy mouth reed cackles. I explained to the kid how a turkey will absolutely pin point you the first time they hear you call and then will take their sweet time working their way to you, sometimes for over an hour, and othertimes they'll come running in like a freightrain so you've always got to be ready.
I continued responding to the birds' call until from the brush behind us came that unmistakable, high pitch "Put"! Is was loud enough that the kid looked at me with wide eyes, trying to judge my face for some sign that said, "OH BOY THEY'RE CLOSE" or "Settle down kid, we've still got time". He read the first.
We'd already folded up our stools and were sitting on our knees. I told the kid, "get ready, they're coming around the right side of the blind, stick the arrow through the window and draw smoothly and try not to make any sudden moves." As luck would have it, I happend to glance behind the blind through a crack in the zipper and instead of coming around the right side, I saw the turkeys making a sharp left had turn and moving to the LEFT side of the blind. So, like the night before we performed our "D-9, rock the blind, noisy as possible flop session" to get the kid in position to shoot out the left side.
As the kid raised his bow I saw those first, magical, telltail signs of that wonderful thing all us hunters know as "the rush" beginning to trickle into his veins. Shaking he pulled to full draw, "which one should I shoot" he said with a tremble.
"The one in front, the big dark one with the red head" I said as comely as I could.
"THE RED ONE?"
"Yeah, the 'red' one, but wait for a clear shot."
As he held, shaking, his breathing erratic, the turkeys continued along the trail, walking in and out of the cover. Suddenly the big lead Tom came to a sudden stop at the sight of the decoys to the side of our blind, and stood erect, head up, beard facing straight at the bind, right in a perfect (from my angle) open lane!
"Use your twenty yard pin. Aim right at the base of his beard and shoot..........................................................shoot..............................................................the 'red one'.......................................shoot."
He comes back, "I can't see him"
"What???" I'm thinking 'He's right friggin' there, what you mean you can't see him!'
"I can't see him"
All I could think was what he meant was he couldn't get the big Tom in line with his peep and his pin. The turkeys had walked behind the cover while in prime range and now stood too far to the right for the kid to get a good line on them. From where I was crunched in the corner of the blind, still on my little stool, I had a perfect view of the Tom. Wanting so bad for this kid to get a shot I grabbed my bow that was propped up against the wall, told him not to move and brought the broadhead up over his head. I figured, okay, if they continue down the path I'll let an arrow fly, but if it looks like they may come in closer I'll hold off and hope the kid can get a shot.
His arm throbbing, the kid let down on his draw. Just then the big Tom let out a "PUT". For all you guys who hunt turkeys, you know what "PUT" I'm talking about. There are two "put" sounds a turkey makes! One is "Put" -translated- "Hey guys, what's up?" and the other is "PUT PUT PUT"-translated- "Lets role boys, something's not right here!!!" This "put" was the latter. The Tom turned, not running, and made a move down the trail. I quickly assessed the situation and decided either I shoot or no one shoots! From my tight little perch in the corner of the blind I quickly clipped my release into the string loop, and as I drew the string back to my cheek my elbow suddenly came into contact with the wall of the blind, pushing it out and pulling up the stakes that secured the front of the blind in the sandy soil! The window I was aiming out of began to rise as the blind tipped and the limb of my bow pressed against the roof of the blind. With the turkey still in my sites and moving broadside I made a split second decision that squeezing the trigger and letting 'er rip was going to be easier than trying to let down on my draw and putting an arrow through the side of the blind. As the arrow whizzed through the air I herd the muffled "whop" of a broadhead hitting feathers. The turkey leaped into the air, hit the ground and continued trotting down the trail with his companions until they were out of site.
The kid asked, "You hit him didn't you!"
"I think so...." I felt a unsettling feeling come over me. A turkey's vitals are extremely small and there a many stories of guys hitting turkeys with arrows and even lighting fast bolts fired from crossbows that sap through turkeys like butter only to have the turkey hop up, look around and walk off like nothing happened.
It was mid morning and I still had to drive back to Wyoming so we decided to call it a day. We unzipped the blind and crawled out. I went to search for my arrow and asses the damage. I was very happy to see that only one of the blades had deployed on the large expandable broadhead and there was no sign of contact with flesh what so ever. On the trail lay about seven tail feathers sliced perfectly as if placed on a table and cut with a ruler and exacto knife.
As the kid and I walked back to the truck I was giving him a hard time about how he'd looked like the paint shaker down at Ace Hardware when he was at full draw. He smiled and said, "Yeah, I think it was just the adrenaline..." I said now he understood how I felt the night before! I told him that's the feeling that keeps allot of hunters coming back for more. Hopefully it'll keep him coming back for more
.
I'd like to quickly mention to you guys how much I enjoyed working with the mentor program I got involved with through the local grade school when I was living in Neb. Even though I'm now back in Wyo I still stay in contact with the kid I mentored and still get together now and then to hunt and fish. This particular kid had lost his dad when he was very young. As you all know there is NOTHING BETTER to teach a kid responsibility, respect, appreciation etc.. than the skills he learns through hunting, fishing and other outdoor activities
I know a lot of you guys are plenty busy with your own kids and lives but for some of you guys it might be worth thinking about
It can be pretty cool.
MM
