A
Anonymous
Guest
Well folks, I just finished perhaps the most successful turkey season in my life. Oh, I've tagged out a few times in the past, but this time, and from now on, it was done with a bow.
I don't write to brag, not at all. It is just that when something happens like this, I mean, when one of God's most beautiful creatures is harvested, it is cause for celebration--honoring the bird and praising the God of creation.
I killed this final bird of the season a few days ago, but just have not had the time to write the story.
This season has been only marginal as far as weather is concerned. The wind has not stopped blowing from the git-go, save one or two days. And the birds either are not gobbling or cannot be heard when they do. And when they DO gobble, they have not wished to play the game with me or Tom. Being that as it may, there have been a few bright spots--few and far between. So let me tell you of my last harvest.
Much before daylight, I entered the woods and climbed to the Craggy Rock, once more. For a change the wind was not blowing at daybreak. I owl-hooted and (later) called until it became evident that they were not going to tip their hand to me this morning.
Twenty minutes after daylight, I retreated to the valley below as the winds began to react from the warming morning sun.
It was another windy day that dictated that I just remain in a good location and hope for a wanderer to come in. I went to the Creek Stand and was delighted to see new sign. So I set the blind up exactly where I had killed the gobbler on opening moring, hoping that I would not be 'going to the well once too often.
I set the Double Bull blind up, unfolded my $5.00 Walmart chair (which is VERY comfortable), put my blanket around me, and settled in.
It was a clear day. The blind's South windows were open as well as one of the East windows. I had placed my jake decoy so I could monitor it out the East window. My hen dec was 12 yards out to the south. Both in plain view, I ripped off a few soft-to-loud calls with the trusty wing bone call. Nothing but the wind.
I unlaced my boots and took them off, resting my feet on the doubled up cloth bag that holds my blind. It makes a good floor rug. Now I know that some of you younger guys consider this "old man" hunting; and that's okay with me. I deserve an easy hunt once in a while. Besides just the day before I had hiked seven miles from the West, crossing Bear Den and meeting brother Tom on the East side at Dead Dog Road. The results? Only blisters and one 57 year-old 'dead dog.'
I got up this morning feeling every bit of my years, knees screaming, muscles aching. So I said to myself: "Self, today you deserve a leisurely hunt. No more scaling the face of Bear Den--at least not for a few days. So...hear I sat. Sometimes me sits and me thinks, and sometimes me just sits.
Sizing up all the great sign, and knowing from past expeience that there was another bird or two in here, I sat there, with mind made up that I would not move the entire day.
As the day progressed the sun peered from the East and began to warm the blind juussssttt right. It was comfortable...so much so that I decided to just take me a quick little cat nap or three. I made another series of calls and loosened the blanket around me a bit and settled back for a snooze. The time was 10:20 am. Just before dozing a God-ray beamed from the East window and cut a diagonal across my lap to the West side of the blind. Now this blind must be kept dark inside for it to be effective in hiding my movements. So, I reached up and politely closed the East window, blocking the offending light. Now I was ready for a nap.
Now folks, if I can keep the snoring under control, the birds will not know I'm in the area. Usually, sleepin' in a chair, the snoring isn't a real problem. The sun continued to warm the blind and I was snug. Shortly I had drifted off. <img src="/metal/html/sleep.gif" border=0 width=26 height=33 alt=":sleep">
I'm in the middle of a much-needed nap, because I was up past midnight the night before and for me, that does not give my batteries enough time to recharge. So, here I am, in the middle of the woods at the Creek Stand, catchin' some zzzzzs when all of a sudden I hear WHHAAAAPP-AAPPP-AAPPP-APPPP-AAPPP!!! <img src="/metal/html/oh.gif" border=0 width=15 height=15 alt=":O">
Startled, I regain my composure and realize a bird is in the immediate area. I figured one had flown in and had landed VERY close to me. I didn't know where he was because only my South facing windows were open--and the bird was NOT in sight. That left three other options.
I'm sittin' there tryin' to figure out where the bird is (remember, the windows on all but the south wall are closed off) and WWWHHHAAAAPPPPP-AAPPP-AAAPPPP-AAPPP-AAP!!
It was right ON me, directly to my East. I got up a little courage and leaned into the south wall of my blind, looking east. Through the now-distorted south-facing window, I saw the left half of a fan, in full strut. WWWHHHAAAAPPPP-AAPPP-AAAPPP-AAAPPP!!!
That bad boy was tearin' my jake decoy a new one, not eight yards from me. He attacked it FOUR times before I could get my bow and get an arrow nocked. The old decoy just stayed there and took it. With each attack the gobbler would spin the decoy from side to side.
I was now off my chair and on one knee, bow and arrow at the ready. But the bird was not ready to sachay around to the South and make it easy. He had not yet finished his business with the overbearing jake decoy yet. He hit that decoy so hard that it spun it 180 degrees. Pppprrrrrrt! ppeeeerrrrrt! pert-pppeeeerrrrtt!! I reckon that's turkey for, "Come and get me you big chicken." The gobbler was so caught up in what he was doin' that he didn't know I was within five miles of him.
What to do? I knew I could not simply lower my East window. Caught up or not, that tom would have been in the next county well before I could take a bead on him. That option was out. Here I am, on one knee, bow at the ready, a huge gobbler beatin' the stew out of my decoy, when the unthinkable happens. <img src="/metal/html/sad.gif" border=0 width=15 height=15 alt=":sad">
Folks, I got the WORST charlie horse in my right leg bicep that I have EVER had and had to come UP out of my crouch IMMEDIATELY to keep from bellerin' like a heifer in heat. <img src="/metal/html/help.gif" border=0 width=23 height=15 alt=":help"> (I told you Bear Den wore me out yesterday) I had no choice, noise or no noise, UP I came. I was dyin'! <img src="/metal/html/shocked.gif" border=0 width=15 height=15 alt=":shock"> I stood up. (The blind is fully enclosed 5 1/2 foot cube) The charlie horse went away in 15 seconds or so, but I was fearin' the worst if I assumed the position as before that it would grab me again. But it was my only shot. I knelt once again, on my right knee. I leaned my right shoulder into the South wall and pressed, ever-so-slightly. He was STILL there and in full strut, talkin' trash to my bewildered decoy.
I knew if I leaned a little more to the south that I could distort the window to where I would have the inside edge of the window about 1 1/2 inches in front of the outside edge. There was no room for error--otherwise, I would shoot a hole right through the blind and the bird would be forever gone.
I drew my bow, facing East and held and then leaned as much as I dared into the South wall. Immediately the ole boy saw the movement and folded about half way. He turned clockwise, ready to depart the area, exposing his right flank to me. I settled the twenty-yard pin on a spot on his hip and cut the shot. WWHHAAAAAAAPPPP!!!
The arrow found its mark and the bird stumbled forward and away for about eight yards and could go no further. I came OUT of the blind and stumbled myself, in stocking feet no less, <img src="/metal/html/lol.gif" border=0 width=15 height=15 alt=":lol"> tenderfooted, attempting to get to the bird as soon as possible. Sometimes a marginal hit will stun them for a moment and if you're quick, you can be on him before he has a chance to recover.
I approached, his head still in the air and alert, he looked right at me. I took him by the neck and noticed immediately that the arrow was protruding four inches out the front of his chest. I let him go and backed away, knowing he had "bought the farm," and allowed him to die in peace, alone. I knelt and thanked the Lord for the harvest.
It was a eight-yard shot...EIGHT yards! He was my biggest bird yet. He weighed 24 pounds and sported a 10 1/2 inch beard w 1 1/4" spurs. He was just two pounds heavier than the bird I took at the same stand, just a few weeks earlier. I looked at my watch. It was 11:15 a.m.--the EXACT time I killed his clutch mate! How cool is that? <img src="/metal/html/grin.gif" border=0 width=15 height=15 alt=":grin">
Except for my Daddy not being here to physically see this thing unfold, it was the best season I have ever had; and I have to stop and praise the Lord for the birds and for the remaining health I have to chase them one more time, and for the steady hand that delivered the clean-kill shots.
He didn't suffer. He was dead in less than a minute--just like his clutch-mate a couple of weeks earlier.
I hope you have enjoyed my Spring 2005 season. It has been a pleasure relating it to you. This season will be one that I shall never forget. It is one that I will forever be grateful to the good Lord above. Remember; it is from Him that all blessing flow. <img src="/metal/html/clap.gif" border=0 width=20 height=30 alt=":clap">
Thanks for comin' along. <><
Arkie John - Officially 'tagged out' in Arkansas <img src="/metal/html/biggrin.gif" border=0 width=15 height=15 alt="
">
I don't write to brag, not at all. It is just that when something happens like this, I mean, when one of God's most beautiful creatures is harvested, it is cause for celebration--honoring the bird and praising the God of creation.
I killed this final bird of the season a few days ago, but just have not had the time to write the story.
This season has been only marginal as far as weather is concerned. The wind has not stopped blowing from the git-go, save one or two days. And the birds either are not gobbling or cannot be heard when they do. And when they DO gobble, they have not wished to play the game with me or Tom. Being that as it may, there have been a few bright spots--few and far between. So let me tell you of my last harvest.
Much before daylight, I entered the woods and climbed to the Craggy Rock, once more. For a change the wind was not blowing at daybreak. I owl-hooted and (later) called until it became evident that they were not going to tip their hand to me this morning.
Twenty minutes after daylight, I retreated to the valley below as the winds began to react from the warming morning sun.
It was another windy day that dictated that I just remain in a good location and hope for a wanderer to come in. I went to the Creek Stand and was delighted to see new sign. So I set the blind up exactly where I had killed the gobbler on opening moring, hoping that I would not be 'going to the well once too often.
I set the Double Bull blind up, unfolded my $5.00 Walmart chair (which is VERY comfortable), put my blanket around me, and settled in.
It was a clear day. The blind's South windows were open as well as one of the East windows. I had placed my jake decoy so I could monitor it out the East window. My hen dec was 12 yards out to the south. Both in plain view, I ripped off a few soft-to-loud calls with the trusty wing bone call. Nothing but the wind.
I unlaced my boots and took them off, resting my feet on the doubled up cloth bag that holds my blind. It makes a good floor rug. Now I know that some of you younger guys consider this "old man" hunting; and that's okay with me. I deserve an easy hunt once in a while. Besides just the day before I had hiked seven miles from the West, crossing Bear Den and meeting brother Tom on the East side at Dead Dog Road. The results? Only blisters and one 57 year-old 'dead dog.'
I got up this morning feeling every bit of my years, knees screaming, muscles aching. So I said to myself: "Self, today you deserve a leisurely hunt. No more scaling the face of Bear Den--at least not for a few days. So...hear I sat. Sometimes me sits and me thinks, and sometimes me just sits.
Sizing up all the great sign, and knowing from past expeience that there was another bird or two in here, I sat there, with mind made up that I would not move the entire day.
As the day progressed the sun peered from the East and began to warm the blind juussssttt right. It was comfortable...so much so that I decided to just take me a quick little cat nap or three. I made another series of calls and loosened the blanket around me a bit and settled back for a snooze. The time was 10:20 am. Just before dozing a God-ray beamed from the East window and cut a diagonal across my lap to the West side of the blind. Now this blind must be kept dark inside for it to be effective in hiding my movements. So, I reached up and politely closed the East window, blocking the offending light. Now I was ready for a nap.
Now folks, if I can keep the snoring under control, the birds will not know I'm in the area. Usually, sleepin' in a chair, the snoring isn't a real problem. The sun continued to warm the blind and I was snug. Shortly I had drifted off. <img src="/metal/html/sleep.gif" border=0 width=26 height=33 alt=":sleep">
I'm in the middle of a much-needed nap, because I was up past midnight the night before and for me, that does not give my batteries enough time to recharge. So, here I am, in the middle of the woods at the Creek Stand, catchin' some zzzzzs when all of a sudden I hear WHHAAAAPP-AAPPP-AAPPP-APPPP-AAPPP!!! <img src="/metal/html/oh.gif" border=0 width=15 height=15 alt=":O">
Startled, I regain my composure and realize a bird is in the immediate area. I figured one had flown in and had landed VERY close to me. I didn't know where he was because only my South facing windows were open--and the bird was NOT in sight. That left three other options.
I'm sittin' there tryin' to figure out where the bird is (remember, the windows on all but the south wall are closed off) and WWWHHHAAAAPPPPP-AAPPP-AAAPPPP-AAPPP-AAP!!
It was right ON me, directly to my East. I got up a little courage and leaned into the south wall of my blind, looking east. Through the now-distorted south-facing window, I saw the left half of a fan, in full strut. WWWHHHAAAAPPPP-AAPPP-AAAPPP-AAAPPP!!!
That bad boy was tearin' my jake decoy a new one, not eight yards from me. He attacked it FOUR times before I could get my bow and get an arrow nocked. The old decoy just stayed there and took it. With each attack the gobbler would spin the decoy from side to side.
I was now off my chair and on one knee, bow and arrow at the ready. But the bird was not ready to sachay around to the South and make it easy. He had not yet finished his business with the overbearing jake decoy yet. He hit that decoy so hard that it spun it 180 degrees. Pppprrrrrrt! ppeeeerrrrrt! pert-pppeeeerrrrtt!! I reckon that's turkey for, "Come and get me you big chicken." The gobbler was so caught up in what he was doin' that he didn't know I was within five miles of him.
What to do? I knew I could not simply lower my East window. Caught up or not, that tom would have been in the next county well before I could take a bead on him. That option was out. Here I am, on one knee, bow at the ready, a huge gobbler beatin' the stew out of my decoy, when the unthinkable happens. <img src="/metal/html/sad.gif" border=0 width=15 height=15 alt=":sad">
Folks, I got the WORST charlie horse in my right leg bicep that I have EVER had and had to come UP out of my crouch IMMEDIATELY to keep from bellerin' like a heifer in heat. <img src="/metal/html/help.gif" border=0 width=23 height=15 alt=":help"> (I told you Bear Den wore me out yesterday) I had no choice, noise or no noise, UP I came. I was dyin'! <img src="/metal/html/shocked.gif" border=0 width=15 height=15 alt=":shock"> I stood up. (The blind is fully enclosed 5 1/2 foot cube) The charlie horse went away in 15 seconds or so, but I was fearin' the worst if I assumed the position as before that it would grab me again. But it was my only shot. I knelt once again, on my right knee. I leaned my right shoulder into the South wall and pressed, ever-so-slightly. He was STILL there and in full strut, talkin' trash to my bewildered decoy.
I knew if I leaned a little more to the south that I could distort the window to where I would have the inside edge of the window about 1 1/2 inches in front of the outside edge. There was no room for error--otherwise, I would shoot a hole right through the blind and the bird would be forever gone.
I drew my bow, facing East and held and then leaned as much as I dared into the South wall. Immediately the ole boy saw the movement and folded about half way. He turned clockwise, ready to depart the area, exposing his right flank to me. I settled the twenty-yard pin on a spot on his hip and cut the shot. WWHHAAAAAAAPPPP!!!
The arrow found its mark and the bird stumbled forward and away for about eight yards and could go no further. I came OUT of the blind and stumbled myself, in stocking feet no less, <img src="/metal/html/lol.gif" border=0 width=15 height=15 alt=":lol"> tenderfooted, attempting to get to the bird as soon as possible. Sometimes a marginal hit will stun them for a moment and if you're quick, you can be on him before he has a chance to recover.
I approached, his head still in the air and alert, he looked right at me. I took him by the neck and noticed immediately that the arrow was protruding four inches out the front of his chest. I let him go and backed away, knowing he had "bought the farm," and allowed him to die in peace, alone. I knelt and thanked the Lord for the harvest.
It was a eight-yard shot...EIGHT yards! He was my biggest bird yet. He weighed 24 pounds and sported a 10 1/2 inch beard w 1 1/4" spurs. He was just two pounds heavier than the bird I took at the same stand, just a few weeks earlier. I looked at my watch. It was 11:15 a.m.--the EXACT time I killed his clutch mate! How cool is that? <img src="/metal/html/grin.gif" border=0 width=15 height=15 alt=":grin">
Except for my Daddy not being here to physically see this thing unfold, it was the best season I have ever had; and I have to stop and praise the Lord for the birds and for the remaining health I have to chase them one more time, and for the steady hand that delivered the clean-kill shots.
He didn't suffer. He was dead in less than a minute--just like his clutch-mate a couple of weeks earlier.
I hope you have enjoyed my Spring 2005 season. It has been a pleasure relating it to you. This season will be one that I shall never forget. It is one that I will forever be grateful to the good Lord above. Remember; it is from Him that all blessing flow. <img src="/metal/html/clap.gif" border=0 width=20 height=30 alt=":clap">
Thanks for comin' along. <><
Arkie John - Officially 'tagged out' in Arkansas <img src="/metal/html/biggrin.gif" border=0 width=15 height=15 alt="
">