Hope I can get one

[Big Fin]

Day 3:

After another very short night of sleep, we made some coffee and jumped on the ATVs. We arrived to the walk-in area well before dark, allowing plenty of time to get set-up where we had last heard birds the night before.

One guy in particular was testing his vocal cords. In the dark we were able to follow his sounds to his roosting post. I say post, as it was a dead tree that looked more like a tall post than a tree.

As we sat there, waiting for shooting light and filming light, this bird must have heard or seen us. He flew from his post to an opening on the ridge across from us. Upon hitting the ground, he shut up. We dropped down the ridge and crossed the oak jungle bottoms and scrambled up the other side to where he had pitched out of his perch.

Complete silence was our welcoming committee as we neared his landing zone. We called and called, with no result.

After giving up on this bird, we hiked to other points where we had heard birds the previous evening. Very few replies came our way.

Finally, around 9:30, we heard another bird make a lot of racket. He was far off, but given his cooperative gobbling, we decided it was worth the effort, knowing it took us further away from the ATVs.

We got as close as we dared and then set up. He replied to the first call, then shut up. Shortly after, he replied again, but was going further away. Each time he responded, he was getting further away. Jerry suspected he was with a hen, and she was leading him off. I have no idea, other than he sure wasn't interested in the music we were playing.

We returned to the ATVs and decided a nap was in order. A couple hours of sleep, combined with a few bottles of water and an oatmeal bar, and I was ready for the afternoon.

I did wake to find that I had invited a few visitors. I lost track of how many ticks I had when I woke, but it was enough to make we wonder if I had traveled to some parasitic shop of horrors, Damn things were everywhere.

That evening, we continued to work the spots that had held birds the evening before. A steady 25 mph wind sure messed up the calling action. Birds may have been responding, but in that wind, we wouldn't have heard them, unless they were right next to us. If they were upwind of us, they had no chance of hearing us int hat wind.

So the evening ended, with another ten miles on our boots, but no turkeys to show. Things were getting rather intense, given we were here to shoot a TV show, but had not one frame of turkey footage. Hopefully the next day would be better.

By the time we got to camp, it was too late for dinner. I was going to bed. But, Jerry offered to cook elk tacos, so I figured I could stay awake at least another half hour.

Not sure if it was my hunger or Jerry's good cooking, but those tacos were great.


One of thousands of sunrises this 870 Wingmaster has been a part of.
View attachment 7579


I am glad I am not the guy who has to lug these awkward setups up and down these ridges. These guys are good.
View attachment 7580

 

[Big Fin]

Day 4:

If you're ever gonna see a rainbow, you gotta stand a little rain.

Well, the rain was here, and no sign of any rainbows. It was a torrent. Cold and wet. Thank God for good wall tents.

In spite of knowing better, we were determined to not let a day be wasted in the tent. We woke in the dark, made more coffee and headed out in the driving rain. I could tell the camera guys were not real thrilled about ruining tens of thousands of dollars of cameras and equipment by soaking them in this weather, but they agreed to try it.

We got to the tallest ridges right at daylight. The wind was screaming. The rain was coming horizontally. This was not good weather for anything, other than catching pneumonia and ruining good cameras.

Not deterred, Jerry called and called and called and.......... With no results. I wouldn't have heard a bird if he was standing next to me. The hammering rain and wind was drowning all sounds, including Jerry's calling.

Better judgment dictated that we should pack it in and use this as an opportunity to rest our feet and get some sleep. So after some great convincing, Jerry agreed to follow me to camp.

We arrived by 8:30 AM, soaked and cold. We started the tent stove and changed into something dry and warm. Within an hour, I was sleeping and slept past noon. I was awaken by the sounds of someone cooking lunch. Sounded good to me.

It was still raining, and raining hard. I went back to the tent and decided to sleep some more. I finally woke around 4:00PM. What a wasted day. But, having been in need of some sleep, I decided I would make the most of the terrible weather and sleep as hard as I could. Mission accomplished.

That evening, the rain finally stopped. The last hour of light was spent listening for more birds. No dice.


A stove is a handy item in this kind of wet. The tent frame and some bungy cords made a great clothes line.
View attachment 7581


A sure sign of boredom and tent fever. Interviewing the decoy for the TV show.
View attachment 7582

 

[Big Fin]

Day 5:

The humidity from the previous day's rain made everything very damp, and thus cold. We were out and at it again, very early.

With time drawing to a close, some decisions were made. Jerry and I would split up. We needed to increase our chances at calling in a bird, and by splitting up, our odds would increase. One camera guy would go with each of us.

Also, I decided to trade in the bow for my spare shotgun. Given how few encounters we had experienced, I didn't want to mess one up by all the movement required to draw may bow. The cover provided was not like sitting in a blind, so I didn't want to blow what may be a very scarce encounter.

Jerry decided he would go to the "Coop." He called it the coop, due to the fact that even though it was further away, he had heard the most birds there.

I would go north, out to the long finger ridge that disects a basin of pine knobs. We agreed that we would meet up at 10:30.

We went our separate ways. The wind was howling. I was about ready to give it up. I really don't know what more could go against us at this point. I walked the ridge and listened every few hundred yards. I called and listened, walked further down the ridge, and repeated the process until I reached the end of the long pine rise.

Not having heard anything, I sat down to plot a better strategy. The camera guy claimed he heard a gobble down in the bottom. Obviously he was not a young idiot who loved firearms and thought hearing protection was for sissies, as I had. Finally, I did near one of the gobbles.

We dropped down the ridge into the basin to the tree-covered knob where it sounded the calls had come from. Now he was even further away. I think my calling was scarring him. That was the last time I heard him.

We headed back up the ridge, out of the basin, to get to the ATV before the agreed upon meeting time. Jerry was not there yet. While waiting, I swear I heard a gobble. I asked the camera guy to listen to the south. Shortly, we heard another squawk.

We grabbed our packs and headed of the south ridge. This bird was busy. I glassed him across the canyon, strutting his stuff and calling to his girl. She was playing hard to get, but he was giving it all he had. He was gobbling even minute or two.

I told the camera guy to wait and I would run back to the ATV and get Jerry. When I got there, Jerry and the camera guy were waiting for me. I told them the bird was very active and we should get after him.

They grabbed their gear and followed. As we dropped off the ridge, Jerry retold how a bird had come in behind them that morning to a distance of 15 yards. He came in without making a sound, so they were not prepared when the bird ran off from behind.

From where I had left, the birds were now about a half mile down and across on the next ridge. We waited for the birds to go over a small bench that would hide us as we cropped own the bottom and would try to get in front of them.

When we reached the point where we though we could intercept them, we climbed to the next bench, hoping this bird would come down to us.

As soon as Jerry called, Casanova responded. Jerry was speaking this guy's language. The hen would start clucking and we could hear her going further away. I suspect she wanted to keep her dude away from this hottie.

Within about five minutes, I could see the big bird strutting along the bench 85 yards above us. He was moving back and forth, trying to impress us with how colorful he was. But, he would not come any further. Once the hen got more active, he decided to leave us and head back to the girl of his dreams.

We huddled and decided to run further down the ridge and intercept them. We did this three times, and all times, got in front of them, but never being closer than 60 yards. By now, this running and chasing had taken us over two miles from the ATVs. The last time we saw them, they were finally spooked and were moving a fast clip. We would never catch them.

We retreated to the ATVs, tired and thirsty. Finally, we had found a place where you could actually see the birds and they were more vocal. The fact that all the toms seemed to be with hens wasn't helping our cause, but at least we were seeing birds and getting some footage.

When we arrived at the tent that night, it was pretty easy to sleep. I opted for cold cereal and milk as my dinner and hit the sack.

This was starting to be fun, even if it was a lot of work.

In this country, a pair of binos can save a few blisters.
View attachment 7583


Finally, something to smile about.
View attachment 7584

 

[Big Fin]

Day 6:

This was it. The camera guys were leaving tomorrow morning. We had to get the deal done today.

Having heard a few gobbles when we walked out the night before, we decided to go south in the morning. Well before daylight, Jerry was making locator calls from the high ridge. We heard some noise and went out to the end of the ridge, only to find another tom with his hen.

Short story is we chased them again, finding very little cooperation to our calling and stands. These hens would lead the toms away at the first sound of a call.

I glassed another tom and hen below us. They were moving slow and we dropped down to the bench they appeared to be headed to. We set up and hoped they would come near.

We listened for a long time, but heard nothing. Having nothing to lose, Jerry called. Immediately, the tom gobbled and his hen clucked. They were down below us and had made it past us, somehow. Jerry continued to coax the tom, but we could hear they were moving off.

It was now mid afternoon and we had to decided what to do. We split up again, hoping to improve our odds. Jerry went back to the coop. I stayed south, hoping to ambush the toms we had seen with these hens.

When we met at the ATVs that night, I had nothing to show but a big pack of antlers. Jerry was very upset. He had been working a bird, but it had shut up. Losing filming light, he decided to try move in closer. As he walked over the little ridge, he came eyeball to eyeball with the bird he had been working. In the time it took for the camera to get set up and focused, the bird was running through the young ponderosa regrowth.

Jerry is convinced the bird was coming in silently and was only 80 yards away from their original set up when he bumped him. Had we not been committed to getting a kill on film, Jerry could have shot the bird when they ran into each other. Such is the challenge of filming.

We talked about what a great time we had spent chasing birds. Regardless of their cooperation, it was a lot of fun, and these birds had earned my respect. These were not farm birds that were comfortable around people. These birds were call shy, had been pressured for three weeks prior to our arrival, and they had learned how to use this terrain to their advantage.

We headed back to camp knowing we had our chances, but the additional challenge of filming was more than we could overcome. Tomorrow, we would pack up and head home, long in the face, but knowing we had hunted hard and time spent with longtime friends was the important part.

Once back in camp, the camera guys offered to film for three hours in the morning, but that was as long as they could stay. Being dead tired, I told them I had imposed enough. They told me to shut up and get some sleep, and we would give it one final try before packing up in the morning.

OK, if they insist.

A well deserved break.
View attachment 7585


The type of country we hunted.
View attachment 7586

Antlers were everywhere.
View attachment 7587

Damn ticks. Can't sleep anywhere around here.
View attachment 7588

 

[Big Fin]

Day 7 (the bonus morning):

We got up 15 minutes earlier than normal and spared the niceties of coffee, wanting to make the most of this final morning that we really didn't plan on having.

Upon arriving at our parting point, we could hear birds gobbling north and south. We heard more gobbles in the dark of that morning than all other mornings combined. The question became, "Which ones to chase?"

Jerry decided to go north and I would go south. The camera guys said we must be back to the ATVs by 9:00AM, so they could get back to camp, load up, and be home at a decent hour.

As I headed south on the main ridge, I could hear multiple birds gobbling. What made these birds finally "get after it" is a mystery to me. It was the first really crisp and calm morning, so maybe that was it. I know these birds were here all along, but they were completely quiet. I would occasionally glass them, so I knew some were around, but had no idea there were this many.

I dropped off the ridge in the dark, hoping to connect with the noisy guy roosted below me. My goal was to get as close as possible and be near the biggest opening as he left his roost.

He made another gobble and I was sure I had a fix on his location. It was almost light and I could make out the trees outlined against the wakening dawn. I rounded the bend of a small ridge and had decided I would set up on the opening at the bench on the toe of the ridge. I heard the noise of something flying from a tree straight out in front of me. Whatever it was, it was big. A few seconds later, a gobble came from the same tree and then the sound of another bird leaving the tree and flying across the canyon to the opposing ridge.

Damn it! I had just ruined what would probably be the best chance of my day. I was so upset. In my effort to get close, I had gotten too close and I am sure the birds spotted me fifty yards away.

I called, hoping they would respond and let me know where they had landed in the dark. No luck. Rather than wasting the time to drop down the canyon and climb up the other side, I decided to follow the birds making noise further down my ridge.

I picked up the pace, as it was now getting quite light. The gobbles were getting less frequent, so I hustled to reach the next knoll where most the yodels were coming from. By the time I got there, it was silent.

I stood on the ridge, glassing all the small openings below. I saw a big tom following his hen up the opposing ridge. I really had no choice but to follow them. I dropped off the ridge, and climbed to the first bench on the opposite ridge and set up for a quick calling session.

I called, but nothing was close. Just some more gobbles over the far end of the ridge. I was now down to about two hours of hunting and could not believe that I had arrived at such a vocal morning and had nothing to show for such a great opportunity.

One thing I had noticed is that all the birds moving along the ridges loved to use the game and cattle trails. So, I decided to follow the game trail up to the saddle above me and see what was on the other side. I had heard some far away gobbles, but expected to see nothing but turkeys moving in the far distance.

As I neared the saddle between the two little knolls above me, I decided to peek over the crest, in the event there was something close by. Holy crap!

A mere 50 yards over the ridge was a tom walking on the game trail. I dropped to my knees and told the camera guy to get ready, in case the bird came our way.

I again eased up to see what was over the crest. I noticed there were two toms, and one was coming our way. I readied as best I could. Having no trees, no sage, no grass, nothing at all to hide behind, I tried to make myself as small as possible. The camera guy moved up slightly above me, to my right. He told me to get lower, as I was blocking the camera angle if the turkey came over the ridge.

Within a minute, the bird came up to the edge of the ridge. I was asking the camera guy if he was ready. The bird was thirty five yards out, but the sage on the crest of the ridge blocked him enough to prevent a shot.

The bird came a few yards closer, and then stopped. He had seen us and was now turning to move back down the ridge. As he cleared a small sage in front of me, I shot, not knowing if the camera was on the bird and in focus. I had no choice - the bird had made us out, and was heading out of town.

Upon recovering from the recoil, I saw sage, feathers, and dirt fly. I also knew that he could possibly run off if I didn't kill him dead with the first shot.

I immediately jumped to my feet and ran the twenty-five yards to the crest of the ridge. As I got there, the bird has gathered his senses and was making tracks back down the game trail. I drew a bead slightly in front of him and shot again. He cartwheeled down the trail, with me in fast pursuit.

I caught up to him and made sure he was dead. What had been the most frustrating hunt in a long time had turned 180 degrees in the matter of a few minutes.

Amazingly, the videographer captured the entire event, including me running up the ridge, shooting the final shot, and jumping in the air while pumping my fist as I ran toward the downed bird.

I never thought a turkey hunt could be extreme in the same sense of an elk hunt, but I am wrong. Nothing against those other turkey episodes, but I am confident that the footage we have, the story of deep despair and ecstatic joys, will make this episode something not seen in turkey hunts.

The camera guy and I laughed hysterically as we thought about all we had experienced the last week. Neither of us had put so much effort into any episode as we had on this. And all for a little ol' turkey.

We loaded the pack and headed back to the ATV. We arrived about a half hour early. We decided we would bury the bird under the gear and not tell Jerry of our success.

When Jerry returned, we set up the cameras for the final "thanks for a good hunt, wish we had got a bird" scene, with Jerry having no idea that we really wanted to capture his surprise when he noticed the bird we had shot.

Jerry apologized profusely for not getting a bird for us on camera. He talked about how he had tried every turkey trick he knew, but to no avail. His apologies were getting to the point that I couldn't take it any longer. I threw him my coat and in doing so, revealed the bird laying on the ground.

Jerry's jubilance was that of a four year old on Christmas morning. He was hooping and yelling. The backslapping and laughing was heard for miles.

When it was all said and done, we both agreed that this would be one of the most memorable times we had spent hunting. No one could have tried harder and worked more to get a bird, than Jerry had. His happiness in my success was evident. Our friendship had just grown one knot tighter.

Thanks Jerry, Troy, and Loren. Friends like you are what life and hunting is all about.

Not a huge bird, but a trophy of the greatest proportions.
View attachment 7589


Reason to smile.....again.
View attachment 7590


Beautiful public lands of Montana.
View attachment 7591

 

[smalls]

Great story BF!

 

[jabber]

Excellent story, congrats on a well earned birded.

 

[Spitz]

Wow! Very well earned bird! I'm glad things worked out for you, Congrats!

 

[mtmiller]

Wow, now that is a turkey hunt. Thanks for taking us along.

 

[Oak]

I've got to admit, that is the best turkey story I've read on the 'net. Nice work guys!

Now tell me about all these "antlers everywhere".

 

[Delw]

Great story.

 

[cornfed]

Congratulations,nothing easy about a late season public land turkey anywhere.Great job!

 

[----]

Sweet story and pictures Randy, sounds like a hell of a hunt. Can't wait to see your footage.

 

[IdahoBugler]

Agreed with everyone else that was an awesome story and congrats on the bird. They are smart and can be really tough to call in. You did very well for your first bird.

IB

 

[T Bone]

Great story Fin.

Congrats on the turkey bird.

 

[TLC]

as usual Fin, good stuff. congrats to you and the crew for getting another hunt on tape.

 

[shoots-straight]

I really like reading stories where the hunts go kinda the same way mine do. Good job, and great effort.

 

[Moosie]

Good going Fin !!!! That's Awesome. I admire people spending more then a 1/2 a day turkey hunting. I just can't/won't dedicate that much time....

GOBBLE GOBBLE !!

 

[JoseCuervo]

Big Fin,

Congrats, and, your comment about these not being farm turkeys hit home. Wild Turkeys up in Wild Country on Public Lands in the Forest Service are a waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay different hunt than hunting somebody's farm/ranch.

I love finding turkeys miles from the nearest road/farm/field....

 

[choc dogs]

Thanks for taking us along, I sure hope the outdoor networks realize how much more these stories mean to hunters than seeing someone hunt on a completely sponsored hunt on someone's private ranch