March 22nd: Headed out for first hunt of 2023. Long drive ahead, but gotta get out there after 'em somewhere. In my mind, I know it is a bit early to be hunting the area I am headed to, but this is the timeframe available to me and my hunting buddy. Weather is an added factor in that it has been raining for the last three days in the area, and the roads and access to much of the hunt area will be questionable. ...Oh well...
Arrive at hunt area mid-afternoon. It's still raining and as expected the roads, and the country in general, are soaked. The main road into the hunt area is barely passable, and there is no chance of driving into some of the country we (avidnwoutdoorsman and I) hunted last year. Driving towards our established campsite, I encounter a roaring torrent of water flowing across the road. ...Ain't gonna get to where we want to be.
At nightfall, pull over to the side of the road at the crossing and sleep in the truck, expecting rain, and possibly snow, to hopefully stop by morning.
March 23: (two days before season start). Wake up to continuing precipitation. River crossing is still impassable (and possibly worse), so turn around and head back up the main road, hoping to find turkeys to hunt. Fortunately, modification of hunt plans proves to be fortuitous in that I find an area with a good number of turkeys. Unfortunately, I am also concerned that the road conditions will have all the hunters in the area stacked up in this same place. ...We'll see.
I am concerned that of the several groups of turkeys seen, they are all still in winter flocks of hens, jakes, and mature gobblers,...all separated and showing no breeding behavior,....no strutting or gobbling going on at all. Hmmm....
March 24th (day before hunt starts): Wake up at first light to the sound of gobbling turkeys in the distance! Things looking up for hunt, but still very concerned that many other hunters will be focused in this area. Hunting buddy arrives after daylight, but as the day progresses, more and more hunters arrive and begin setting up camps along the main road. We're concerned about the potential for competition and interference, but what can you do?
Sporadic rain/sleet all day, but things are gradually clearing. At dusk, I sit on ridge above roost area and at dark watch numerous turkeys, including a number of mature gobblers, fly into trees. Things looking promising for the opener in the morning!
March 25th: Opening morning of 2023 season!
We have decided to focus on the roost site near camp and hope that other hunters do not come in on us. Leaving well before daylight, we sneak into roost area and wait to hear gobbling to assess a set-up location. As eastern horizon begins to lighten, we are surprised by gobbling very close to us in the trees immediately in front. Soon we can see gobblers sitting in the trees in front of us,...some within shooting distance! We have gotten closer than we would have liked, but the turkeys show no indication that they are aware of our presence. We wait,...
Expecting some of these gobblers to fly down right in front of us, we are a bit surprised when they all fly down to a clearing about 80 yards away, just out of sight. They are making a racket (turns out to be a combination of longbeards and jakes), and we begin to try to entice them towards us. Unfortunately, they are oblivious to our calling and soon begin to wander off away from us. We try various strategies, including repositioning and calling, but they eventually shut down and we lose them. Bummer, but at least no other hunters have shown up on "our" birds.
The rest of the day, we try to locate other birds that will respond to calling, but cannot get a peep out of a gobbler anywhere. Under the conditions, we resort to setting up in the roost area before dark hoping to intercept a gobbler headed to the roost. They come in from another direction and our ambush tactic is a bust. Hopefully, tomorrow morning we will get them, as we plan to set up where they flew down this morning... :icon_thumright:
March 26th: New plan on approaching the roost area. We walk-in in the dark again and set up at clearing where gobblers had assembled the morning before, confident we are about to get us a couple of gobblers. Turns out to be the same situation as the first morning. Gobblers are in the trees right in front of us. Don't know why, but instead of flying down to the clearing in easy range, they fly off to one side and assemble just out of range at about seventy yards, then start moving away again. We can only assume they must have been suspicious about something.
Same results as the first morning. They shut down completely and, try as we might, we cannot raise a gobbler the rest of the day,...pretty frustrating.
Second evening, we again resort to ambush at the roost site, setting up in two separate locations hoping one of us will be in their path. They have roosted in this same group of trees four days in a row, but on this evening, they do not show. With all the activity in the area (us and other hunters wandering around and driving up and down the nearby road), it appears the turkeys have decided to relocate. Bummer again....
On the roost those early season flocks are something to behold, on the ground they are a grizzly bear to tangle with. Hope a break in the weather comes your way and they fire up.
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Keep at my brother, you will prevail! Good luck!
March 27th (final morning of our hunt): Since gobblers have not roosted in the regular location, we are at a loss as to what to do. We know there are other gobblers nearby, but all are near other camps and we do not want to interfere with other hunters that are probably hunting them. My hunting buddy decides to drive to a high point to listen at daylight. I decide to just stay near camp, listen, and if I hear gobblers that I don't think other hunters are on, I will go to him/them.
At daybreak, I hear a gobbler sounding off a long way off in such a spot and head towards it. By the time I get there, several gobblers are sounding off in various directions. However, as was the case on the first two mornings, the gobblers flew off of the roost, shut down, and that was that. I carefully moved through the area where I knew there were several gobblers but could not buy a response.
In summary, in an area where we knew there were a good number (actually lots) of gobblers, over three days we heard a total of six distant shots with many hunters in the area. We talked to other hunters who all had the same story,...the gobblers were just not ready to play the game.
Packed up and headed home. Oh well,...maybe next year!
Next hunt in a couple of weeks. Hoping for more cooperative birds! ::) :D
Quote from: TauntoHawk on March 30, 2023, 11:11:27 AM
On the roost those early season flocks are something to behold, on the ground they are a grizzly bear to tangle with. Hope a break in the weather comes your way and they fire up.
Quote from: Tom007 on March 30, 2023, 01:16:34 PM
Keep at my brother, you will prevail! Good luck!
I was afraid this hunt would be too early,...but was wishfully hoping for a better outcome. Never saw a single bird exhibiting any breeding behavior the entire trip, and we observed a LOT of gobblers, hens, and jakes in separate flocks. I actually could go back this weekend, and probably would if I was certain things might have changed. It's just too far for this old boy to go on the chance that their attitude has changed in just a few days. ...On to the next hunt... :D
April 12: Leaving O-Dark-Thirty in the morning for the NM season opener on Saturday. Gonna spend two days trying to find an isolated gobbler or two that might not get found by the hoards out on the Saturday opener this year. Good luck to all teammates, as well as opponents and others, that might be out hunting in the four days I will be gone. :you_rock:
...Will check in probably Sunday with a report....
Jim
Safe trip old Pard and good success to you
Safe travels Jim, looking forward to some awesome pictures and stories. I will keep an eye on your band of misfits while your gone.
Good luck Jim.
First of all, thanks for all of the well-wishes from everybody. Unfortunately, they were apparently not enough to overcome my ineptitude in "securing" a gobbler on the following expedition...
April 13/14: Scouting for Saturday opener proves successful in that gobblers are located in several spots where it was anticipated they would be. Now, it's just a matter of choosing the right birds to go to Saturday morning that might not have the expected hoard of other hunters vying for their attention.
After considerable deliberation over libations with my cohorts on Friday evening, we decide to "herd hunt" a location where I have heard several gobblers, some of which I know exactly where they have roosted, in the morning. For those unfamiliar with the term "herd hunting", it refers to the unwise act of hunters deciding to hunt as a group rather than the much wiser approach of each hunter going to separate birds. Hence, the act of herd hunting ensures some of the group (me) will be relegated to being the "caller" rather than the "shooter".
To summarize, with five (yes, FIVE) of us hunting together, the only way yours truly would have a chance of actually shooting, there would have to be FIVE gobblers show up, and with the entire bunch being witless enough such that I would get a chance to shoot the last one after FOUR other hunters had killed one. Now, don't get me wrong, I don't mind being in that position. I enjoy calling turkeys for other hunters, but again, in this particular case, it was not a wise choice,...as well as pretty much guaranteeing that I would not be pulling the trigger on this hunt.
"It is what it is"...
April 15th (opening day): To preface, I HATE weekend openers here (season always starts on 4/15, regardless of the day it occurs on). Weekend openers are guaranteed to be a circus (a three-ringer, no less). Our choice to also hunt as a group just magnifies that circus aspect.
Nonetheless, we head for a distant location (thirty miles) from our camp/cabin two hour before first light. I am also concerned that other hunters may also be headed for the area, and know full well that we might have competition. Arriving at my predetermined parking spot along a forest road forty-five minutes before first light, I am relieved that nobody appears to be there, although we have passed numerous camps on our way in.
The "herd" gathers our stuff and heads toward one of the two roost sites I have located, about a twenty-minute walk to each. I have decided we will hit one particular roost first, and then move to the other after those birds are on the ground. As we move towards the first roost, we spot a vehicle parked far down the road within earshot of that roost. Plans are altered and we head towards the second roost about a half mile up a big draw (a "holler" for you easterners). We arrive just prior to "gobble-thirty". I'm not exactly sure where the birds I have heard here the previous mornings are located, so we stop at a spot that I am sure we will be able to hear them,...and wait as the eastern horizon begins to brighten.
Right on time, the first gobbles ring out two hundred yards up the ridge above us. There are multiple gobblers here, and we quickly move up the slope towards them, getting as close as we dare, and set up in a spot I think the birds may come to after flying down. It is a guess, but also the best we can do being unfamiliar with the terrain and habits of these birds, and with there being five "noise-makers" along for the ride. I put our two designated shooters up front and three of us fall back as callers in different spots behind them.
The sky lightens more and more, and soon the gobblers and what sounds like a jake or two and some hens begin to confirm their survival through the night. They are spread out a bit up the hill from us in scattered pines, roughly a hundred yards away. I think to myself that I am glad we did not try to move closer, but I am also concerned that other hunters will hear these birds and come in from another direction.
Based on that concern, I make the decision to start mingling vocally with the turkeys earlier and with more frequency than I normally would. If there are other hunters "out there",...and I am occasionally hearing yelping that sounded out of place,...I want these turkeys to choose to come our way. I join in as discreetly as I can with the turkey conversation, but at the same time letting it be known that this was a hen turkey wanting the flock to "come on down". We start hearing turkey fly down, and soon hear gobbling that is clearly on the ground. They are obviously gathering and having a debate on which way to head, and I keep encouraging them to choose our way.
Soon, I hear the unmistakable sound of drumming,...and it seems to be getting more distinct! I am pretty sure at least one gobbler is approaching and strain to catch a glimpse, but the brush is just thick enough up the slope that I can't see him. Suddenly, from behind a line of brush fifty yards up the slope, a LOUD gobble rings out! I expect a shot at any moment from one of our two shooters that are out in front of us,...but no shot comes, the drumming stops,...and silence.
Turns out, one of our shooters had seen three gobblers fly down and with one of them deciding to come check us out, but out of his shooting range . This bird came to within forty yards of the second shooter, but he apparently moved just enough that the gobbler saw him and turned back. The birds then faded away from us.
Later in the morning, we manage to get another "runner" gobbler interested in that he would respond to calling and would move away as we closed in on him,...a pretty typical trait of these pressured birds. Late in the morning, we head back to the cabin, seeing hunters everywhere along our route. The circus is in full swing, as expected.
More on the afternoon hunt in a bit....
Well at least no cars were harmed in the making of this hunt.
April 15th continued (afternoon hunt): After recounting tales of the morning failures, I headed up the canyon above the cabin with a buddy late in the afternoon a couple of hours before dark. Getting no responses to calling after walking for about three-quarters of a mile, we sat down on a point above a spring hoping to hear gobbles before dark or to eventually get a response. In this country, the wind is invariably up in the afternoon as was the case here. Soon, both of us were nodding off,...with me being just lucid enough to sit up and call every five to ten minutes, hoping for a distant response of any sort.
We had been sitting/laying there repeating that process for about forty-five minutes when I noticed the winds suddenly calmed down. I sat up, looked at my buddy, and said to him,..."the winds are calming down nicely, Tom" in anticipation of being able to hear gobbles at dark, which was still an hour away.
Glancing down the hill after my comment, I was surprised (shocked is a better description) to see a gobbler standing there looking around at about 45 yards! In our natural "state of unreadiness", both of our guns were leaning against a tree,...which was irrelevant as the gobbler immediately turned and departed hastily away from us, and causing us to look at each other with the expected expression of disbelief. Around these parts, gobblers just don't show up "out of the blue" without "saying something".
Cold and discouraged by the event, we gathered our stuff and headed back to the cabin for a consoling beverage to make us feel better about the whole affair. (...It didn't work...) :)
Parting note: In a recent thread about silent gobblers showing up unannounced, I proclaimed that I had never had that happen in 55 years of hunting them. Well, suffice it to say that I can no longer make that claim! ::) ;D
We all relax at the wrong time bro, you will get him. Z
Keep at em Jim, you will nail him!
So at least you know you are still able to call one up! Gives the Tom and few more days to keep growing his spurs and beard..Good luck Jim
Well at least your out there.
The part that surprised me most was that you had 5-10 strait minuets of being lucid
April 16th (Sunday): Plans are made for two of us to head for a known roosting area two miles from the cabin. It is high on a ridge with the approach requiring the use of a faint trail to get up to it. Unfortunately, in the dark the two of us cannot find the trail, spending considerable precious minutes looking for it. Time is of the essence, but we eventually give up and resign ourselves to either ascending the ridge by another, more precarious route,...or going elsewhere. Being the age we are, we decide that "going elsewhere" is the preferred choice.
We drive on down the road with the intention of "locating" a gobbler. After discussion, we choose an area that we suspect might not have been "spoiled" by the hoards of hunters roaming the woods. Soon we have found two gobblers. However, they are on a ridge across a very deep canyon with very, very steep slopes both going down and then back up to where the gobblers are roosted. Sanity wins out and we decide to try to find an alternative route to perhaps approach these birds, but after considering all alternatives, we decide against trying to get there.
Instead, we decide to just see if these gobblers will come to us across the chasm between us. Calling to them, one is quite willing to chat with us. He answers every call lustily but after a while it becomes apparent that he wants us to come to him rather than the other way around. As such, we are at a stalemate. He is hot enough that we both agree he is killable,...but we both agree, too, that we might kill ourselves trying to get to him. Lamenting to ourselves that there was a time in our lives when we would have eagerly made the effort to kill these gobblers, we both concur that that time has passed,...which is a real bummer, but a reality, nonetheless. ::)
For a while longer, we search for more birds, but eventually head back towards the cabin. Driving in, there is a gate we have to go through. The gate squeaks loudly when opened, and when my buddy opens it, a gobbler sounds off up the ridge where we had intended to go in the beginning when we couldn't find the trail.
This time sanity does not prevail,...and we decide to ascend the ridge to this gobbler. It is a long and steep S.O.B., but after many periods of stopping to catch our breath, we reach the top. Calling gets an immediate response from a pair of gobblers about three hundred yards down the ridge.
I could go into great (and lengthy) detail about what happened in the next hour and a half with these gobblers, but suffice it to say we moved several times, eventually pulled them within probably fifty yards of us, and had them there for nearly an hour, but they would not come over the last little rise between us no matter what we tried,...which was just about every trick I know of (I suppose I need to learn more tricks).
We finally decided to move forward ourselves after they quit responding and it was apparent they had either left or had just shut up. It turns out they had just decided to lay down right there out of sight from us in that we eased up to look over the edge and they jumped up, putted, and flew off. More patience on our part might have changed the outcome,...but who knows for sure?...
That was it for my first NM hunt. Headed out again in the morning (19th) for a couple of days. ...Plan on "getting serious" about killin' one now! We'll have to see how that works out... ;D :angel9:
Thanks for the votes of confidence, fellers! You've apparently got more faith in my abilities than I do!... ;D
Quote from: crow on April 18, 2023, 11:13:13 AM
Well at least your out there.
The part that surprised me most was that you had 5-10 strait minuets of being lucid
Well, I might have been exaggerating a bit... I have reached the age where "lucidity" is a relative term... :angel9:
:TooFunny:
Wednesday, April 19: Leave the house at 3:30 a.m. to get to listening spot at first hint of daylight. As anticipated, I hear multiple gobblers several hundred yards into private property where I can't hunt,...and zero gobblers on the public stuff I can. Move to fenceline on private boundary and call to gobblers hoping to draw them across. No dice, although a few seemed interested for a while, responding well and coming about half way before fading back further into the private stuff. ...Must have said something wrong in the conversation... :D
Head back to truck and then move along trail hoping to strike a gobbler on the public side. Finally strike a gobbler across a deep canyon on opposite ridge. He is the only game in town, so I make a big loop to get on the same ridge. In the time it takes to get there, the wind goes from "moderately irritating" to "slightly below hurricane" level. Not good.
I ease along the ridge, calling off into the canyons on either side hoping for a response. I work down the ridge a few hundred yards to where it drops off steeply into the canyon below without getting any response (or at least none that I can hear over the roar of the wind through the pines), and decide to turn back rather than drop off. Walking back along the ridge, I walk over a slight rise,...and there is the gobbler, apparently working his way up to where I had called a few minutes earlier. Busted! (if only he had let me know he was around,...but then again, maybe he did and I didn't hear him over the wind).
Nothing interesting the rest of the day,...except increasing wind velocity through nightfall.
Thursday, April 20th: Wake up to the sound of dreaded wind, which has continued through the night as a cold front has moved through. At daylight, I hear a few very distant gobbles on the private side again,...and again, none on the public side. I drop down to the fenceline and again try my hand at pulling a gobbler my way,...but they are uncharacteristically quiet and unresponsive. It seems the cold front has shut them down.
Back to the truck I go, but notice that the wind is subsiding. Suddenly it is almost dead calm as the front has apparently moved through. I am encouraged and start covering ground, walking out a new ridge calling off both sides. Nothing. I decide to drive to another series of ridges and canyons and continue covering country and calling. Again nothing.
I am pretty discouraged from the lack of any responses, but with it being calm, I decide to go back to the general area I had seen the gobbler on the public side and give it another go. At one stop, I cutt and yelp loudly, hoping to get any kind of response. Suddenly, I hear a distant "maybe-that-was-a-gobble" from far down the ridge I am on. I figure I will find out for sure if I move a bit closer, so I head towards the phantom sound. I stop and call again. Nothing. Call again, and again no response. Maybe it wasn't a gobble after all,...my ears playing tricks on me. I return to the spot I first thought I had heard the gobble and call again. This time, a definite clear gobble rings out,...far away, but definitely a gobble!
Again, I head towards the sound, this time certain that I have found a bird to work! He is half-a-mile away, so I walk down the ridge towards him, stopping every hundred yards or so to call, see if he answers, and assess whether I should try to get closer or set up. As I walk towards him, he is answering almost every call now, but has set up shop on a higher part of the ridge ahead of me.
I ease up as far as I dare, figuring I am maybe 150-200 yards from him. The area is fairly open with a smattering of pines and juniper of various sizes between me and the gobbler. In addition, the sun is up and filtering through the pines, creating a slight issue with an appropriate set-up. Sizing things up, I make the decision to sit behind a flimsy, small pine tree that will break up my outline while at the same time allowing adequate ability to maneuver to shoot,...and in the shade of a larger pine.
I get things situated,...and call again. And again, he answers from the same spot. For the next thirty minutes the scenario is the same,...I call, he answers from the same distance away, although sometimes moving right or left between responses,...but never closer or further.
I suspect we have all been here before,...a gobbler that it definitely interested, but will not approach any closer for whatever reason. In my experience, most often these gobblers have eventually tired of the game and either moved off gobbling, or just shut up and disappeared,...which is exactly what I figure is about to happen here. Running through my options, I finally decide on the "turn away and call softly to make him think the hen is leaving" strategy. Amazingly, it works this time!
It takes a few minutes in which I call away a few times, each time softer to give the illusion of a hen getting further away from the gobbler. Then suddenly, the next gobble is closer! He is coming! I peer intently in his direction, hoping to catch a glimpse. Then,...there he is!...sneaking down the ridge coming straight for me! Eighty yards,...then seventy,...sixty. Now I am looking for my options in getting ready for the shot. He goes behind a couple of big pines,...gun up. Coming on,...fifty yards,...forty yards. The moment of truth! In that moment, I am reliving the gobbler I had missed the last time I had pulled the trigger,...and under similar circumstances.
He steps out into an opening at thirty-seven yards. I focus on the shot,...head down on the stock,...beads aligned. Then...Boom! The deal is done! He is down,...flopping! I head towards him as quickly as my old bones will get me there, latch on, and pin him down,...and breathe a sigh of relief.
2023 New Mexico gobbler #1 is in the bag! I am a bit surprised that he is a two-year-old, thinking he might be an older bird due to his antics, but it makes no difference. I am delighted,...and quite frankly, astonished that I have succeeded in killing this bird when just a couple of hours before I had been utterly dejected and ready to bag the hunt. In spring gobbler hunting, you just never know.... :)
(https://i.imgur.com/Hr56tCim.jpg)
Congrats, Jim!
I'm glad you hit this one. It pays off to be a persistent GOAT. These fellers ain't figured out what they are dealing with, but eventually, they will figure it out. We just lit the pilot light on this oven. Wait till we start turning the gas up.
Congrats Jim ????????????
Congrats Jim, great read, way to stay after them.
Hapless the only gas your smelling is coming from your teammate, Reject ate some bad food.. :z-dizzy:
Way to stay after 'em Jim!! Great story...Congrats!!!
Monday, April 24: Decide on short notice to head for the hills for another round with three old hunting buddies. Hit the road at 3:30 a.m. for the two hour drive to turkeys.
We hear gobblers at first light at first stop, but they are behind private and EXTREMELY difficult to get to, especially for a bunch of 70-somethings, so we move on (I may make the effort to reach them towards the end of the season, if needed). Second stop, another gobbler heard, and the decision made for two of our group to head to this one. Two stay, two of us move on.
I am interested in checking out a spot I have never hunted before, so two of us head there. Short version: the area looks fantastic, but no gobblers heard (except for distant and on private). After two-mile walk prospecting for a willing bird, we return to truck. The other pair has had no luck with the gobbler they worked.
We head for high-country camp to try gobblers we had failed to entice on the first day of the season. The nemesis for hunting here is again with us,...the wind. It blows a gale until dark, making it difficult to hear gobblers going to roost. We hit the sack with no birds located for the next morning,...not the ideal situation.
Tuesday, April 25th: We decide to split up this morning in hopes somebody will find a gobbler. I head out before daylight, reaching the area where gobblers were on the first morning. As the day breaks, I sit and listen, but no gobbles are to be heard, so I head over the next ridge hoping to hear something in the next drainage.
Past flydown now, so my strategy is to move along quickly, calling as I go in hopes of hearing a response. I go over one low ridge, cross through a open-meadow bottom and start up through the timber on the opposite slope. Seventy-five yards up the slope, I suddenly imagine I hear a distant gobble. I stop, listen, and then send out another series of yelps. From back behind me, I hear another faint sound that might be a gobble. I wait, then call again. This time a clear gobble rings out,...and much closer. This bird is on his way and closing fast!
I begin evaluating my location and decide on a standing set-up behind a small pine that will allow me to see the gobbler should he approach from below. I call again and he responds,...but he is moving parallel to me, headed to the open bottom I had just crossed. There he sets up shop, obviously wanting me to meet him there, but there is no way I can move towards him.
Long story somewhat shortened, we play turkey-hunting chess for about an hour, in which he moves in a semi-circle around me, always staying at a safe distance, and with me moving to safe locations, resetting, and calling in an effort to break him,...and using every turkey hunting trick known to mankind (or at least me),...and possibly even some new ones. Nothing works and he finally obviously becomes suspicious about this hen that will not come to him and begins to fade away up the opposite ridge, still gobbling at my every call.
I begin to move up the ridge, hoping to find a location that will satisfy his finicky disposition and that he will come to. At this point, another frustrating complication comes into play. This area is also the home of a burgeoning elk population. They are literally everywhere,...and in my moving towards the gobbler, I jump elk in front of me. They go crashing away towards the gobbler,...and I think "well, that's the end of that", but within another minute or two, I hear him gobble again a little farther up the ridge. Maybe the game is still on!
I wait for a bit for things to settle down and then again begin to move up towards him. I have gone another hundred yards, and again, ANOTHER bunch of elk jump up and go crashing off towards the gobbler. Thinking again that the jig is up, I stand there cursing the elk and my bad luck,...and all of a sudden he gobbles again! This time, though, he is even further up the ridge and obviously "getting out of Dodge".
Nonetheless, I decide to try the "end around" strategy and take off as fast as I can ("as fast as I can" being a relative phrase in that I am at 9,500 ft. in elevation and some would say that I am no longer a "spring chicken"). I make a loop around and then up to the top of the ridge, hoping to get in front of him. The strategy fails as I sit on the ridge and never hear another peep from him.
I turn around and head deeper into an area that I think might hold a willing gobbler,...and eventually I do get another response from gobblers, jakes, and hens on another ridge. The turkeys respond for a while, but then move away deliberately, making me think that they have played this game too many times before. I search for them after crossing over to the ridge, but they have disappeared,...and with no apparent intention of letting me know where they disappeared to.
I am now two miles from my truck and across several significant drainages to get back. I get no more responses on the way, and am pretty "tuckered out", to put it mildly, by the time I get back. I had planned to stay one more day, but the wind is again getting up and not expected to die down for the next couple of days, I am what can generously be defined as being "whipped",...and so I decide to bag it and head for the house.
The silver lining is that I am still hunting to fill that second NM tag! More to come,...I hope!
Great effort Jim makes me feel bad complaining about 2am wake up. You give me confidence to put in the extra effort to get a tag on 1! Good luck and stay safe, you will be successful this year!
They are working you hard out there Jim
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Sunday, April 30th: Decide to sneak out for a morning's hunt in NM before we head to WA for a week. Arrive at the location I want to try well before daylight to make an ascent up a near-vertical, brush-covered mountain to get to a canyon beyond that I know will possibly hold some undisturbed gobblers. First snafu is that my headlamp goes out and won't come on (note to self: check the batteries once in a while,...you dumba**!)
First fact, you aren't climbing up THIS mountain without a light in the dark! I try "negotiating" the mountain with the flashlight on my cell phone, but soon realize it ain't workin'. This mountain requires the use of two hands to climb up,...and one hand holding a cell phone does not cut it. Finally give up after making a hundred yards in fifteen minutes and falling down multiple times. Decide on "alternative plan" and head there, only to find a vehicle parked there (did I mention that I absolutely HATE trying to hunt on the weekends around here?...)
Head to third alternative, getting there right at "gobble-thirty", and immediately hear a very faint, distant gobble waaayyy up at the top of a high ridge above me. Being the not-so-smart guy I am, I get my gear together and head up out of the canyon towards the gobble (or should I say towards where I THOUGHT the gobble came from).
I have no interest in every climbing Mount Everest, but let's just say that climbing up this particular mountain would probably be good practice for it. I claw my way up over a period of thirty minutes or so,...and then hear the bird gobble again,...ACROSS the canyon on the opposite ridge! Bummer!
(Another note to self: get your friggin' hearing checked,...you dumba**!)
Some folks say I'm crazy,...but I am not crazy enough at this moment to try to go to that gobbler, so I keep going up the mountain with the intention of finding another gobbler,...or at least checking out some new country. Fifteen minutes later, I "top out" on the ridge where it falls off into some beautiful country beyond. Unfortunately, the "beautiful country beyond" is also off limits on this hunt. However, calling a gobbler to this side of the property boundary is an option, so after catching my breath, I send out a pleading series of yelps.
Immediately, two gobblers respond, probably a half mile into the no-man's-land. I wait, then call again,...and immediately one of the gobblers responds,...and has cut the distance between us considerably. Waiting again, then calling again,...and the gobbler is most definitely interested and on his way! I back away from the boundary fence and set up against a big pine. If he takes one step across that fence, he is in big trouble. ...He does not...
In the end, the gobbler comes ALMOST all the way to me, but balks at the last minute and just out of sight beyond the fence. Like last week's encounter, I can't figure out a tactic to make him take those final steps. He hangs around for a while, but then gradually fades back away from me. In the distance, I hear hens,...and know why he has decided to move back away....and I cannot pursue. Again, close but no see-gar.
Working along the property boundary fence, I end up 'conversing" with more gobblers (with hens), but none of them want to "play ball", and stay safely well inside the off-limits property. Mid-morning, I head back down the mountain to the truck, calling as I go. The gobbler across the canyon on the high ridge gives me a courtesy gobble as I descend. For today, he is safe. I head for the house....
A-plus effort, hate fences
last several years I have trouble pinpointing direction of a single gobble, haven't talked to enough people for feedback if hearing aids let you tell where it came from or just let you hear better.
For target shooting I've tried those electronic shooting ear muffs that let you hear people talking but block out gunshots, they do magnify sound but I cannot tell from where it came from with them on
Congratulations on that first bird and a nice read. :icon_thumright:
Glad your getting out, Jim. I am sure your persistence will be rewarded.
Wednesday, May 3rd: Catching that big old jet airliner to the northwest early in the a.m.. Will be mostly out-of-touch for the next week. Hopefully will have much updating to do when I return. As always, best of luck to the GOAT's and our opponents in the next week. Everybody stay safe,...and kill some big ones! :newmascot:
Jim
Good luck Jim, wish you a safe and successful hunt, hope you see Bigfoot!! :anim_25:
May 3 (continued): Arrived at hunting destination late in the afternoon. After getting settled in, we take a ride to look over the hunting country. See a lot of birds on private ground,...but zero on the public stuff we can hunt. ....Imagine that... ::) ;D
Try roosting gobblers at 0-Dark-Thirty, but we are somewhat surprised at not getting responses to tried-and-true roosting tactics. Hmmm....
Have some places in mind to look at in the morning,...we shall see how things transpire.
May 4 (Thursday): Up and out at 4:00 a.m. to drive to map-chosen hunt area. Plan is mainly to cover more country locating birds to hunt. Forecast calling for rain beginning sometime mid-morning, but things are holding steady at first light. Drive into first public area we can hunt and at second stop, locator call gets a response from a gobbler up a steep ridge above us. We (three of us) decide to give him a go, setting up in a close-by open area below him. Long story short, he clams up almost immediately, and after wasting precious early morning time on him, we decide to move on.
Two hours,...and about twenty miles,...later, driving down one of the numerous forest roads in the area, we finally get a distant response from multiple gobblers on private below us. We head that way, eventually getting to the (dreaded) property boundary where we can go no further. The gobblers are still several hundred yards away, but are responding quite enthusiastically to our calling, so we set up to see what they will do.
Soon their gobbling is getting louder,...and louder,...and we know they are at least interested and heading our way. Guns up and at the ready, they continue to approach, coming up the ridge slowly but steadily to us,...and are eventually just out of sight. Suddenly, we hear a vehicle approaching from down on the private side. As it gets closer, the gobbling ceases,...and that is that. Not sure what the deal is with the vehicle, but regardless of the intent, the hunt is ruined.
We continue to cover country, assessing the hunting potential as we go. Summarily, we do not hear or see other turkeys on the public ground,...but there are strutting gobblers, hens, and jakes EVERYWHERE on the private stuff. Late morning, the rains set in, and although we keep at it, nothing of note happens the rest of the day, although we do identify one spot that is close to some private stuff where we see several gobblers hanging out in a field. One thing appears certain,...and that is, if we are going to kill gobblers, we are going to have to do it in the rain, and most likely have to call them off of private ground.
We go to bed with a plan of attack for those birds,...a plan that requires a thirty-minute walk to get close to where we think these birds will be roosting.
May 5 (Friday): Wake up to steady drizzle but make the forty-minute drive to our destination. Before daylight, we head down a rain-soaked, two-track road towards the location where we think the gobblers we had seen will be roosting. I look at the two-track and think to myself,..."Well, at least we will have these birds to ourselves. Nobody would be crazy enough to try to drive in here!". ....Wrong...
We have walked in a half mile, headed towards the assumed roost site, when all of a sudden we hear voices ahead of us! It turns out, three hunters have driven in during the night before,...and set up camp near where we are headed! Rain and bad luck,...not a good combination.
We head elsewhere, the rains continue, and by the end of the day, we have no clue as to what to do. I decide to text my contact (who shall remain nameless unless he decides to identify himself) about hunting in the area of his property. He encourages us to give it a try,...and plans are made to head that way for the next morning.
May 6 (Saturday): Drizzling again when we get up but we make the drive to the property, walk in about a half mile, and stand listening at first light for gobbling (when you are 1500 miles from home and have limited time, you go hunting whether or not the conditions are optimal). Soon multiple gobblers start up, but quite a ways up the canyon from us,...and on public ground,...the first time that has happened! We head that way, and eventually get set up below what sounds like a trio of gobblers on a steep, open ridge above us. Again, long story short, these birds act very interested,...gobbling enthusiastically, and for quite a while after flydown,...but make no discernable move to come check us out. Eventually, these birds, and several others we can hear, gradually become quiet and seemingly evaporate.
At least we have had the opportunity to work multiple gobblers without interference,...or so we thought...
We break for breakfast,..and to get out of the rain for a while,...but decide to return to that general area from another route which would put us higher in the canyon above the area where we have found these gobblers. Early afternoon, we are prospecting for gobblers. At one location, we get a response across a wide, deep canyon. Somewhat reluctantly, we bail off into it to give this bird a go. Soon we have him, and at least one other gobbler, responding with such enthusiasm that we set up, thinking things are about to get lively. ...Wishful thinking, apparently...
Again, long story short, these gobblers approach to within a hundred yards or so, set up shop, and will not come one step closer for literally two hours! In this particular season, this story is getting old. Try as we might, we cannot make these gobblers budge,...and the terrain is so nasty that there is no chance to seek a better set-up without spooking them.
An hour later, we find out the most probably reason for our failure. A vehicle comes driving up the canyon with three or four hunters, and it is apparent that they have been hunting this area,...and messing with these gobblers,...for quite some time. Personally, I am a firm believer that too many negative encounters will put birds on edge to a point where they have no intention of going to turkey calls they can't see the source of. We try multiple tried-and-true tactics, but they will have none of it.
Late in the day, we bail on these birds to look for some that are more cooperative.
...More to come...
Please tell me this ends with you shooting something bigger than that fightin' rooster you shot earlier
Quote from: Happy on May 11, 2023, 01:57:18 PM
Please tell me this ends with you shooting something bigger than that fightin' rooster you shot earlier
:TooFunny: ;D ....Uhhhh,...No, it does not... ::)
May 7 (Sunday): Feeling like we needed to give the birds from the previous day another chance, we head back there before daylight. As expected from the forecast, it is drizzling again. As we start up the canyon, the first gobble rings out somewhere on the ridge above us to the left, much further down the canyon than the previous day's birds. I tell my two companions that I am going to try to get to that bird while he is on the roost, thinking that getting in close on him might be the ticket.
I head that way (and they head on up the draw), getting first soaked to my knees crossing a small creek that is swollen due to the rains. I completed the shower by then having to wade through chest-high brush as I started to ascend the mountain above me. I was hoping to get up to the gobbler, but soon came to the property line where the parcel I was on reached a private section we could not hunt (sound familiar in the GobbleNut Tales?). I was still quite some distance from the gobbler, so I stopped short on an old logging cut to listen.
Soon, gobblers were sounding off down the main canyon a half-mile away, again on off-limits ground, as well as directly across the main canyon from me (same situation). However, soon I heard gobbles closer to me,...and on huntable ground. There were multiple gobblers in this group and I waited in place to see what they might do. At flydown, it was apparent they had flown down into the bottom directly below me,...and right where we had parked the rental vehicle. I figured my best approach was to drop back off the ridge and try to get as close as possible.
During my descent, they ceased gobbling and I wasn't certain where they had gone. Nonetheless, I eased into the bottom, watching carefully ahead of me, and calling sparingly hoping to get a response. As I eased over a small knob, suddenly there they were, fifty yards ahead in a small cluster of pines. Busted!...and too late. They duck-walked over a rise and were gone. ...If only they had just once let me know they were still in the area...
I hung out in that location, hoping these gobblers would settle down and eventually come back into the bottom, but they did not, although they obliged my calling with a few courtesy gobbles from the ridge high above me a bit later in the morning. I am not one to sit in the rain trying to kill turkeys, so after a while, I headed back towards the SUV, which turned out to be less than 100 yards from where the birds had been loafing in the trees when we met.
My companions had similar luck up the canyon,...hearing and interacting with a couple of other gobblers that also wanted to have nothing to do with hen-turkey-calling from hens they could not see. They also ran into the same group of hunters from the previous day, again confirming that these birds were getting a full dose of artificial turkey calling for no telling how long prior to us getting there.
All of us being thoroughly discouraged, as well as soaking wet from head to toe, we decided to head back to our rental cabin and regroup. The rains continued for the rest of the day, and the cabin was a welcome respite from the downpour, so we just hung out there without making another effort.
May 8th (Monday): Waking up to continuing rainfall, we nevertheless decide to return to the location where we had the encounters with the gobblers on the first morning of the hunt, and arrive there at first light. Two of us head down a sloppy two-track towards the area, and before long hear the first gobbles down toward the private ground they had been on four days earlier when the interloping vehicle had scared them off.
Soon, we can hear several gobblers, with the closest being roosted about 150 yards into the private. We set up on him, knowing full well that he was likely to fly away from us down into some turkey-attracting ag fields another 200 yards beyond his roost,....which is exactly what he did despite our admittedly-self-described seductive calling at flydown time.
Multiple birds were on a ridge to our right and high above us, and after the close gobbler flew down into the ag fields, we decided to ascend the ridge to try to reach them. That ascent turned out to be a nightmare as the slope to them was covered with slash from apparently-recent timber-company cutting to thin the slope. We struggled on, eventually coming once again to a property boundary where we could proceed no further. Not surprisingly and true to form, the gobblers were a couple of hundred yards beyond that boundary.
Again, we repeated the process of trying to call them to us, but once again, they would not oblige and headed towards greener ag-pastures away from us. We covered the area over the next few hours prospecting for willing birds, getting regular courtesy gobbles from the fields down in the private stuff, but to no avail.
Later, we ran into a local hunter who had hunted this area for fifty years,...and he told us he had never seen the turkeys so quiet and non-responsive to calling. Just our luck deciding to hunt the northwest during a week-long monsoon chasing gobblers that were totally shut down. To say that we were totally whipped and discouraged would be the understatement of the turkey-hunting century.
Mid afternoon, we again headed back to our cabin, all of us thinking we were about to return home skunked in a place that was supposed to be covered up with gobblers. (Note: actually, the place WAS covered up with gobblers, as we regularly saw dozens of turkeys on the private properties as we drove around looking for birds on the public stuff).
We bagged it for the day. However, the weather was supposedly going to break in the morning, giving us the prospect and hope that at least we would not get soaked like we had the previous four days straight. Still, that looming thought of failure permeated the atmosphere. We only had a day left to hunt as our flights back to NM were coming up on Wednesday morning. It was now or never!
May 9th (Tuesday): aka "Do or die day". Our collective discouragement makes me think my companions might sleep-in this morning, but to my surprise, both of them get up when the alarm sounds. Studying OnX the night before, I had identified one location that we had not hunted that looked like it might be a "sleeper". I told the guys,..."This is where we are going this morning", not knowing if there was a gobbler in the country or not. An hour before the first hint of daylight, we head there. In addition, the skies were clear for the first time in a week! At the very least, we would not get soaked for our efforts!
We reach the public ground right at gobble-thirty, and getting out of the SUV, we are delightfully surprised to hear at least three gobblers,...all roosted on public!...a first for the entire trip! Two of these gobblers are on opposite, low ridges directly across from each other,...and pretty close to the road and where we had parked. One was much further away up on a low ridge and farther into the public ground. In my mind, I am thinking,..."That distant bird is the one we should focus on", so we start up that way. Our approach takes us right by the area we think one of the closer gobblers is roosted, but to get to the far bird we have no choice but to more-or-less walk right under him,...so we do just that.
It is still fairly dark,...but not dark enough that I think the gobbler cannot see us,...so we scurry along quickly trying to get past this first gobbler with the hope that he somehow won't notice us. We reach a brush-line beyond where we think he is,...and he suddenly gobbles from right where we have walked in. We step into the brush just off the logging cut we are walking, whispering to each other as to what we should do. I am convinced that our chances with this close bird are, in essence, non-existent, but I tell one of my cohorts,..."Give him some soft yelps on your box",...which he does. I add in some soft stuff myself a minute later, and then he adds a few tree yelps with a pot. The gobbler responds!
The logging cut is open towards where the gobbler is roosted, and I tell my buddies,..."If he comes, he is probably gonna walk right down this cut". At that moment, I turn my head back to look down the cut,...and there is a gobbler standing in the cut sixty yards away! Didn't hear him fly down or make a peep, but there he is!
We are all three standing, with me being on the "gobbler side", and also the most exposed, although we are kind-of behind a scraggly, small pine tree just off the cut. I'm standing there thinking,..."There is no way in hell this gobbler is not going to see me standing here",...but to our amazement, he just starts walking up the cut towards us!
He keeps walking, but reaches a point right where I am thinking,..."I can kill him if I can get my gun up", so I start easing my gun up, trying to stay as much as I can behind the screen of pine limbs of the tree. He catches the movement, and turns and starts walking slowly up the slope on the far side of the logging cut, but staying just in range. In the meantime, one of my buddies is going,..."shoot him, Jim, shoot him!" as I am trying to find an opening through the pine limbs to get a shot.
It is a short-lived clown show as I am fumbling with the gun, poking it through the pine, and trying to get on him before he gets out of range,...and just in the nick of time, he walks into the last available opening, I push the pine limbs out of the way, get the gun on him, and pull the trigger. He goes down in a heap, and instantly I am running ("running" being a relative term) down the cut trying to get on him,...just in case. No need,...he is down for the count!
On the last day of our hunt, I have received a "gift gobbler" from whomever controls such matters. He is no giant by any means,...short-bearded and light in weight, and with somewhat sharp, but short spurs as is typical for the Merriam's subspecies (he looks like a full-blooded Merriam's gobbler). Regardless, I am beyond "tickled" to have taken him. (And no, Happy, he ain't gonna surpass that 49 point giant I killed a couple of weeks ago in New Mexico!) ;D
Final footnote on the hunt: My buddies hunted a few more hours that day, but eventually said "we give" and bagged it. The summary is that three of us "old dudes" hunted six full days, mostly in the rain, and came away with one "miracle gobbler" to show for it. Sometimes you just have to play the cards that you are dealt and make the best of it. I think we ended up with a pair of deuces... :D ;D :angel9:
(https://i.imgur.com/dWQa3GZm.jpg)
(https://i.imgur.com/Zg1R9vNm.jpg)
(https://i.imgur.com/qEV4mTPm.jpg)
Good job Jim, just giving you good natured grief about your gobbler. I know how it goes with mountain birds. They typically don't score too high but you gotta earn them. Good job and way to stay persistent
Great read Jim, you give this old man the push I need to keep trying, looking forward to the pictures. Congrats on another Tom. Well earned!
Nice write up Jim and congrats on your gobbler
Very entertaining read Jim. You sure do seem to get more than your fair share of bad luck when chasing out of state gobblers.
good stories Jim, As I have to convince myself sometiimes....there's no bad turkey hunts. Well I guess I had at least one bad turkey hunt, and I wouldn't wish that on anyone
Sunday, April 14: Decided to sneak away for the last couple of days of the NM season (should have left "well enough" alone). Left the house at 3:15 a.m. for the two-hour drive, arriving at my old reliable "honey hole" fifteen minutes before gobbling time,...and without seeing any signs of other hunters in the area, not that I would have expected any this late in the season here.
The looming question is whether I will hear birds on the public ground here, while feeling quite certain there would be gobblers within earshot across the fence on the private property. Standing outside the truck and listening as the sky started to brighten, I first hear a gobble that "may" be close to the property line, so I gather my gear and start that way. Moving along hastily in that direction, I suddenly hear a gobble from a familiar ridge across a canyon on public!
Reversing course, I head that way, knowing exactly where this gobbler is roosted and also exactly how to get into position on the ridge above him, as I have killed gobblers from this same location the last two seasons. I move along as quickly as I can to try to get to him while he is still on the roost, looping around, climbing, and following along the ridgeline. He is very obliging in continuing to gobble and let me know where he is, and soon I have moved into position and set up roughly 100 yards directly above him right before flydown time.
I tuck into a small cedar tree, get prepared, and then send him a short series of quiet yelps. He responds...I wait. It is clearly light enough for him to come out of the tree, so I imitate a flydown and then send him another short series of "ground yelps". Again he responds, and almost immediately I see him sail out of a tree to the right down the slope below me, landing out of sight. I give him another quick series of yelps,...and wait.
Sooner than expected, I see a white head angling up the slope towards me and in a path that is going to bring him around slightly to my right but well within range. I adjust my position slightly and get the gun up. This is going to be short and sweet,...and I am already patting myself on the back on how well this has worked out. ...Overconfidence can come back to bite a guy right where it hurts...
The gobbler clears a downed pine tree twenty five yards away. It's a gimmee shot and I quickly find his head in line with the beads on the vent rib and slap the trigger like I have done dozens of times before. At that precise moment, I feel the trigger hesitate longer than it should have (hunting in the rain for a week without taking the proper precautions to address the potential issues with trigger function has apparently come back to haunt me), and before the sound of the shot rebounds in my ears, I know I have pulled off of the bird. I cringe as I see the shot pattern hit well below the gobbler in the dirt!
I have been given another gift gobbler,...but I have blown it! He immediately turns and takes flight, and I watch him sail down the slope out of sight. To put it mildly, I am dumbfounded by what I have just done. In my haste to get it done, I have hurried the shot when there was no need,...slapped the trigger overconfidently when I should have just carefully squeezed off the round. Summarily,...I have CHOKED!
Nonetheless, I head down the slope to where I have last seen the gobbler and look and listen for a bit,...just in case. I then go back up to where I had taken the shot and look diligently for feathers,...or any indication that I might have connected. There is nothing to be found. Again I go down the slope, back and forth looking, but knowing in my heart that he is gone. If any of you have been here, you know the devastating feeling of emptiness that accompanies these moments.
I eventually move on, and end up working several more gobblers during the day that are safely staying on the private property and have no intention of leaving it. Late in the day, thunderstorms set in and the two-track that leads into this area can turn into a truck-sinking bog with enough rainfall, so I decide to not take the chance. I have an extended debate with myself about heading to another spot for the final morning of the season, but my heart is just not in it.
There was a time when I would not have given up and hunted that last morning to try to make amends, but I have reached the age where the tenacity to do so has faded. I have had another blessed turkey season, have hunted as much as I want anymore, and have stayed healthy throughout. I make the decision to bag it and head for the house, knowing full well that ending the season with (another) missed gobbler will dwell in my mind for a while,...but so be it. In time, the miss will fade from memory,...as it always has in the past. :)
Great stories Jim. Congrats!
Great season JIM, and you have entertained us as usual brother. Thank you, Z
Congratulations on another great season Jim and condolences on the miss. You at least got in the game and had successes and got out of state for a hunt and enjoyed another season! Just gives him time to get bigger for next season.
A final 2023 GobbleNut Log thank you to all of you that have taken the time to read through my ramblings, and for all of the well-wishes. I, too, hope that each of you has had (and perhaps are still having) a blessed season and have been able to be successful in your endeavors and have stayed safe and healthy in the process. :icon_thumright: :icon_thumright:
Jim
Way to cap it off with a bang Gnut. Sucks that you missed, but at least you had some excitement for rhe end of the year
Good write up and well executed plan. I'm glad you got to work a gobbler at the end.
Misses stink an are hard to live with, wether it's the dirt or a log :happy0167:
Quote from: GobbleNut on May 17, 2023, 08:35:39 AM
A final 2023 GobbleNut Log thank you to all of you that have taken the time to read through my ramblings, and for all of the well-wishes. I, too, hope that each of you has had (and perhaps are still having) a blessed season and have been able to be successful in your endeavors and have stayed safe and healthy in the process. :icon_thumright: :icon_thumright:
Jim
All the best to you Jim, I'm sure we will all chat in the off season......be safe
Thanks for all the stories and leading our team. It's been a tough season for many of us, Myself included. I totally struck out in Kentucky again. I never even worked a bird. At home they were just plain mean and devious. The first ten days I couldn't get one to come unless it was a jake. Then I spooked a bird I wanted moving for the shot, missed one and finally closed the deal in the third week. So I feel your pain and disappointment. This thing called old age really does slow us up a lot, but it does not take the desire and joy away. As you said, some days it's just easier to hang it up then keep going.
I appreciate your good humor and hope we didn't dig too hard on you. You are a good friend and I hope we can hook up for another round or two of turkey camp. the boss still says she wants to come to NM and Utah, so we'll see if we can make it happen. Have a good breakfast and recall the fond memories of another season chasing old Tom. I know you have some sweet Maple syrup to put on some pancakes, unless you already eat all of it, and that cures just about anyting.
Dana