Here's an idea... I see a lot of threads about people's best turkey hunting stories or someone recalling a great hunt, and yes, those are amazing and I hope these memories will remain with us all forever. With that said, let's start a thread recalling one of your WORST Turkey hunting stories! The truth is, some of these really bad stories are just as memorable as some of the best, and it's sometimes just as fun telling the bad stories as it is the good ones! I'll go first...
A couple years ago I got invited to go on a turkey hunt on a family members ranch in Central- North East Oregon.
Now this new family member was acquired by marrying my wife's cousin. I was told I would have access to the ranch and that it is absolutely LOADED with turkeys and that no one hunts it for gobblers. Sounds great right?
I agree to go on the hunt and I'm pretty excited because I was told it would be a slam dunk. The closer we get to the date he begins communicating less and less, then a week before he tells me he won't be available that someone else will show me around the ranch, a couple days after that he's sending me a couple pins on some public. I'm thinking... "Man, I knew this was too good to be true, and If I was just going to hunt public I wouldn't have made the trip with such urgency".
I get out there only to find 1 small flock with 1 gobbler. The flock doesn't fully live on the property but goes back and fourth from the neighbors property, they seem to live on the border there.
I roost the bird and it's just over onto the neighbors property. I head back to the house I will be staying at. While there I get told that I should go get introduced to the grandfather because the parcel we roosted the bird on was the grandfathers. This fellow is pretty much an alcoholic and has a bad temperament, I truly doubt he even remembers meeting me. Now this concerned me because I thought "this guys not even going to remember meeting me and he will think I'm some trespasser on his property and shoot me!" This was a very isolated community in Oregon, extremely sketchy feeling. I decide to rule out a roost hunt until I can have someone chaperone me on the property in the day time. Now before going back to the house I will be in, the grandpa lays into us about not going on the neighbor's property, we assure him we did not. On the way back to the house I will be staying in I ask what the grandpa meant by the neighbor stuff. I get told that the neighbors are crazy and they cook Meth, ultra paranoid people.
They have been shot at by these loons for just walking the property line, that they have Rottweilers they send out on anyone they think is trespassing. Not to mention they have found some of there cows from the ranch mutilated.
So I'm thinking "wow, do you not think this info would have been good for me to know? Hahah we were just on the property line roosting a bird! Last thing I need is to be posted up on a tree waiting before first light, only to have a mean ol' Rott mess me up, that is if the grandpa doesn't shoot me first! After learning this I decided there was to many variables for me to be out there as a guest with no "guide" that I decided to not hunt and pack up. The house they put me in was incredible filthy and run down, expired food in the fridge and clogged up bathroom, bed was concave and dirty and the old lady that lived there liked to crank the heat to 90 degrees (horrible!) now this lady was pretty senile, and the last thing I need was for her to forget I was staying there and shoot me in the middle of the night while I get up to use the bathroom, so I painfully held it until the AM when my property chaperone arrived (this was just a family member that agreed to show me around while I was there).
I tell the guy that I've decided it wouldn't be a good idea for me to hunt because there's only 1 gobbler on the property and there better off leaving these birds to do there thing. If he can please drive me back into town (3 hours) and I will reimburse him. He was confused but drove me back into town where I stayed for the next 4 days.
On the way back I ask about the birds, said that there used to be a bunch, that he would get one every year... There method of take, was to drive around on 4 wheelers with a coyote call, as soon as they would get a response they would roll up on the bird and unload on it like it's some hog in Texas. Me personally, I was appalled. I said "you mean you've never called a bird to the gun before"? Guy says no, that they don't even know how to use a turkey call, let alone own one.
To top it off Oregon TSA ran me through the ringer! I got that one guy that wanted to be a jerk and I almost missed my flight because of him. Made me run into town to buy a new case that he felt was adequate, they delayed my flight and it was real awkward when I showed up late and everyone was just sitting there hating me for making them late.
Theres much more to the story but I had to summarize it a bit or it would be way too long then this!
Let hear what you guys got!
Sent from my iPhone using Tapatalk
I didn't hear a gobbler for several mornings ... The worst time of my life is not hearing one gobble ...
My worst hunts are when I have to leave a gobbler to get to a job .. this happens often sadly :(
Wow Mossberg90min, that's hard to beat and I have had some similar experiences. However, my worse can be explained in one sentence. I went turkey hunting was shot by another hunter and nearly died. It deosn't get much worse than that, unless you die.
Quote from: eggshell on February 08, 2023, 07:25:47 AM
Wow Mossberg90min, that's hard to beat and I have had some similar experiences. However, my worse can be explained in one sentence. I went turkey hunting was shot by another hunter and nearly died. It deosn't get much worse than that, unless you die.
Wow man that is horrible! Glad your okay, I would definitely say that's worse then my story haha
Sent from my iPhone using Tapatalk
No bad times, as long as I'm out enjoying Gods creation. Eggshell...I would find a different buddy to hunt with. Don't think he's your true friend. lol
Opening morning of 2020, I was headed to the woods and about 20 minutes into my drive a bearing in my transmission went out. Luckily I was able to coast to a stop in my Grandpa's driveway. I called my wife to come get me in my other truck and went on hunting. $4000 for a new transmission.
I was working a turkey had him coming in a Mennonite comes walking up to me right at prime time between 8:30 and 9:00 in the morning chewing me out asking me if I had permission to be there and told him I did, he wanted to know from whom told him and I asked him who he was and what business it was of his? He said he had on the adjoining property. So yeah, it didn't go well from there. He didn't even own the property, jerk. That turkey was hot and I still believed to this day if that guy wouldn't have interrupted I'd had my first turkey back in the '90s.
Sent from my moto g pure using Tapatalk
The being shot would be the worst of all trips I am thinking. Came close to that in 2009 on a WMA in Florida a guy shot my decoy I shouldn't been using. Turns out I was using a jake decoy on public grounds. I learned to never do again; but it was my brothers decoy anyway. He canceled bailed on the trip last minute so I went by myself. So being it was my broth rs decoy I was laughing thinking of. So I didn't get killed so it was funny to me that someone was stupid enough to shoot a rubber old decoy. But trying to think of a bad story I have a lot of good ones not a lot I can say are bad. But the one I can think of now that was my worst happen to me just last year. I was hunting one of the Indian reservation in SD. I was hunting tribal land but had made friends with a rancher adjacent to tribal property that was showing me around. Well he took me into this old homestead next to his property and said the turkey always come down out of here into his pasture. So I parked on the side of the road headed into this old homestead. Well I didn't have any success that day hunting but at sunset heard a bird gobbling across the road. This was tribal land I was able to hunt also. So before the Tom stopped gobbling I ran in and located what ridge he was on. The next morning I can back and parked in same spot as day before, but was hunting across the road. In the dark I slipped in there and ended up with the perfect set up. The best fly down, the best calling to bring him in and closing the deal. All with in half hr of fly down. A hr or so later after pictures and everything I walk back out to my car. I come out on to the road and see a vehicle parked across the entrance to the driveway going into the homestead. And a guy looking into the window of my car so I yell to him and let him know it's my car. So he meets we walking up to him and he asked me what I am doing. I have a gun in my hand, in cameo and a turkey over my shoulder. So I lay the turkey down to talk to him, and again he asked me what I was doing. And again I say turkey hunting. Just then I hear this Drunk lady(this is 7:15AM in morning) screaming coming out of woods. She had just walked into the old house to see if the owner of car me, was in the old falling down house: what was remaining of it. He's son guy in his mid twenties yells to her mom it's just a guy turkey hunting. Hear it turns out this is where she grow up in. And she still clams it as her land but it's all tribal land and I had a right to be there. Here is where it gets bad, all of a sudden the guy picks up my turkey and say, think there should be a hunting fee. I said I shot the turkey across the road, and then he say a trespass fee then of twenty bucks. Up until that time I was having the best day of my life so I said sure. I just figure give them twenty bucks for some more beer and we are both happy and I can go home. Well the only problem was I was still twenty yards from my car and that's where my money was at. See the fee grew from twenty to forty by the time I reached it. Ones again I didn't want to destroy my great hunt so I give him forty bucks and just go away and leave me alone I will add the forty to expense of trip. Well by this time the mother had another beer and we were on good speaking turns now and I could hunt there anytime. So next she wants to bless the turkey in there native way so I wasn't going to deny her that. And she finished that and next she says she wants one of the tail feathers. I didn't tell you this bird was huge a 3-5 year old with hooks to match. And a huge tail fan with not a wrinkle in it. I dropped him without a flop. So I did not want to give up ANY feathers. But she wanted a tail feather and I knew at that point if I just wanted to leave I needed to give her a tail feather. I have so many fans already I just give them away anyway but I wanted to keep that one. I gave her the feather and I drove out of there. My friend who lives in the area was not happy I gave them the money. And now after the fact I should have just call the DNR. But it's all part of turkey hunting you never know what to expect.
My good hunt bad hunt.
Sent from my iPhone using Tapatalk
Just last year in Northren New Jersey. I knew there were 4 Jakes moving around together. I decided to go after one of them since even hearing a Gobble in North New Jersey is not an everyday occurrence.
I was there opening morning. I got the Jakes all worked up with Loud Yelping. All 4 started to move my way. Safety off- left Knee up higher - all set and--- BOOOOM!
Long story short- a bit later ,I saw 4 Turkey Hunters. 2 Adults and 2 Kids probably around 14 or less. One of the kids probably took an extra long shot and missed.
This was a weekday- Monday. Youth day has passed already. I wish they did not skip School that day...
The experience I dislike the most
"We" were walking, stopping and calling, trying to strike a bird. While doing so a hen answers. We hit the dirt with me in front. The hen was over a small rise out of site, I was ready with head down and eyes down the barrel. After conversations with the hen she is working up the hill to us. When she pops the hill into view their is a guy standing there with a complete look of fear in his eyes. As he should have been.
I always set up on every turkey I hear while turkey hunting, every turkey means hens too. I have killed many a gobbler in this fashion that never gobbled that I heard gobble that day.
When the guy popped the hill, I had the bead of my 10g on his face at 30-35 yards. He was looking right at me. I told him he was a "F ing Dumb Arse".
I do not go to a invisible calling hen, neither should anyone else. Ever! Had it happen two days later a couple miles up the road, it wasn't nearly as close or dramatic, thankfully.
Working a bird in for a kid on a youth hunt on a management area only open to youth hunters when a guy slipped in between us and the bird and killed it. He was probably in his late 30s or 40ish. I had some choice words for him and called the warden but I'm positive nothing happened. That guy was a real POS.
Black Hills 2007... me and my buddy roosted a bird the night before. Worked up our game plan and got in their way before daylight (which there is like 4 am lol). The Turkey had roosted near a road. And by road I mean a forest road 3 miles off any main road. We sat a hen decoy up just off the side of the road and we were about 85-100 yards from his roost.
He was fired up. Just before fly down some guy in a green ford ranger drives right past us. I know he saw us and the decs. He stopped right beside the roost tree...hits a call. Then hits an owl call. Of course no turkey gonna gobble now. I stand up..start to walk toward him to ask wtf his problem was and he jumped in his truck and took off.
That's one. That's the maddest I had ever been. I've had the cops called on me once for trespassing, even though I wasn't. She gave them my plate number. Police ran my plates. Saw my name and disregarded because they knew I wouldn't trespass. It's good to be from a small county and know the police. Only reason I found out..a deputy came by my work the next day to rag me about it. We both laughed but what she told me she said was unreal. She told him she came out and yelled at me and I ran and hid. Funny...I never heard any yelling and I certainly wouldn't have ran. FYI, she rented a house on the property I had permission to hunt on.
I've been boogered by other hunters, usually unintentionally but my worst pales in comparison here. Just wow at some of these.
Heres my most painful one. I got on a bird after daylight (south Al), worked him about 30 mins and missed a shot at 26 yards in the pines. As I sat there in disgust for awhile about 30 mins after the shot the bird had moved about 300 yards down into a bottom and slowly got cranked back up. Long story short I spent over 3 hours and 11 different sets before I convinced the bird to come back into 41-42ish. and I missed him again at 11:42. I was nearly drunk I was so dehydrated as I forgot my water that day. but hands down the most painful story to memory
I had just killed a nice bird with a very special gun and a very special call. I was elated. I had just taken some pics of the bird. I was walking back to gather my turkey seat and pack . The leaves were very deep. I hung my foot on a root that was concealed by the leaves. I fell head/face first into a tree. I guess I used my arm to try to catch myself. I really don't remember anything but my head hitting the tree.
It probably took 15 to 20 minutes to get up. The pain in my arm was incredible. I could barely move it. I wasn't sure if it was broken or not. I realized my face was swollen badly. I could barely open my left eye. I crawled to a small cedar tree and used it to pull myself up. I was still addled. The pain was border line unbearable. I surveyed my surroundings and that is when my eyes found the bird. I felt my swollen mouth starting to form a smile. All of the sudden the pain didn't matter. The fact that I wasn't sure I could get back to the Rodeo didn't matter. I had outsmarted one of the smartest creatures in nature. I had fooled his eyes and used his own instincts against him.
Was it worth it? Yep!
(https://i.imgur.com/Em5tfT1.jpg)
Some real DooZies here on this thread. I have nothing for everyone except, I'm glad your all ok.
B-Safe all
Johnny
Working a field bird way bag in the day of bag phones and beepers. Bird is kinda hung up, but not leaving, so I am feeling pretty good. My beeper goes off. I check it and it is the owner of the land on the property I am hunting. Crud. No way out except to booger the bird. The guy has horses and cattle and never bothers me unless it is a real emergency. I figure I need to leave. I call aggressively and the bird responds. It takes him F-O-R-E-V-E-R to come into the edge of my comfortable range (literally 40 yards). I am flustered, need to leave, feeling guilty and so I take the shot. Miss. Clean. He gone. I hoof it out to the truck to call him.
"Hey Wesley, what's up? Horse or cow?".
"Hey Larry, neither. I just wanted to see if you killed a bird today". LMAO.
I did not tell him the story. Super nice guy and did not want to make him feel bad. I saw many birds die on that property including my nephew's first Tom and my son's first Tom. But that day hurt until I killed one later that year (not there).
One of the farms I have access to hunt is a small 88 acre horse farm with more woods than pasture. It sits between two big blocks of woods, so it's kind of like the narrow point of an hourglass. I help mend fences, cut trees, firewood, and keep up the trails there in exchange for rights to hunt that property. I work there more than I hunt. About 10 years ago, I found a pair of big hardwood trees side by side that blew down together in a tropical storm. Those trees are only a few feet apart, parallel to one another. They make a perfect natural blind by having space enough to sit between both trunks and using the root ball as a backrest, almost like an easy chair. I added a few dead limbs with leaves on the uphill side to give more cover from the ridge. One of the horse trails passes less than 10 yards behind the roots, so it is easy access to get in and out from. Turkeys also walk those trails and can come in silently, then almost blow your cap off with a gobble from real close behind that deadfall blind.
For whatever reason, that place is not great to hunt until the leaves grow out good. Turkeys don't use the area much until most of the hens have gone to nest. By the 3rd and last week of the season, it can be a GREAT place to hunt! The big mature gobblers pass through that area often enough and can sometimes be called in close. Of the 7 gobblers I've killed there, only one has been father than 30 yards. Only one of those birds has been under 20 pounds (by 2 ounces) and 3 have weighed over 22 pounds.
Last year, experience had me hold off hunting there until the 3rd week of the season. The evening before I planned to hunt, I went to the pasture gate on the ridge to listen for roosted gobblers, so I'd know which side of the farm to start on. That way I could fall back to one of the 3 brush blinds I have on that farm according to whichever way the gobbles come from. The deadfall blind has proven itself so often, that it's usually where I'd rather go, though I let the turkeys tell me. A loud, throaty gobble at the edge of the pines and hardwoods below the pasture at dusk close to the deadfall guaranteed where I'd be starting the next morning. I was really excited for the morning's hunt and had trouble drifting off to sleep because the memorable hunts I'd had there kept replaying in my mind's eye. Next morning, an hour before daybreak, I stealthily eased down the trail in the dark and got set up silently, waiting for first light and the gobbles to come. Just as daylight started breaking, the whippoorwill's song gave way to the songbird's tweets and loudmouthed wren's whistles. A barred owl cut loose in the creek bottom and crows cawed from above the ridge. The second time the owl hooted, that gobbler fired up from exactly where he'd spent the night. Cool. Things were looking good and I really liked my chances. I'd coaxed a roosted gobbler from that same general area about 8 years before and shot him at 11 yards. He'd walked behind me on the trail, but I was able to call him back my direction. He walked past me at 7 feet (!) before he got where I could draw down on him. It was a very intense and memorable hunt.
A little tree talk from me, then a flydown cackle, and some leaf scratching ought to draw that longbeard up my way, where I might get a crack at him. I could see colors starting to fill in the open pasture from the sun creeping up, though the woods were still fairly dark. Patience kills more turkeys, so I held off and let him sound off a bit more before I tried to tempt him with any calling. I liked my chances of getting to tangle with another grown gobbler from that spot. Then, the gobbler got quiet....maybe he was getting ready to fly down? Suddenly, behind me, I heard the sound of a four wheeler coming along the ridge trail, with the headlights bobbing through the dusk woods as it rolled closer, with two voices talking as they rode (TWO minutes before flydown?!?!?!? ARE YOU FREAKING KIDDING?????). They turned down the path towards me and I realized that the pair of them had found my blind and intended to hunt there (without permission). Now illuminated in their headlights, I stood up with my arms extended and my palms up, silently questioning what the actual hell they were doing. Over the sound of the idling four wheeler, the son loudly announces to his father "Somebody's already there!". I took off my cap and threw it down and started storming toward them. I work and sweat my butt off for rights to hunt there and I wanted to find out who these fools were. They quickly put the four wheeler in gear and gunned it, hurrying off back across the ridge and onto the neighbor's property. Next thing, I heard the gobbler (now several hundred yards away on property I can't hunt) gobble from the ground towards the creek bottom. I also heard the four wheeler heading that same direction...and then nothing but silence from that gobbler.
It turns the young man (14 or 15 years old) and his father (old enough to know better) were nearby neighbors who had gotten permission to hunt deer only for 3 days from the farm owner over Christmas break, when I was out of town. Yet somehow, they must have figured that gave them long term rights to hunt wherever and whenever they wanted. They wouldn't be in anyone's way if they also tried hunting turkeys too, right?. I think a swift kick to the crotch might have hurt me less.
Sidenote; I hunted that same farm the following morning, but the gobbler was roosted even farther away, across the creek bottom and I heard him get shot by the farmer's grandson before 8:00 a.m. that morning. Dang. *heavy sigh* Just thinking about and retelling it hurts my spirit, even 10 months later.
Jim
If you want to get less literal my worst was not being able to hunt for 17 years because of my last car accident. Tried, did not work well though. Still thank God he let me back into the woods.
My first year turkey hunting. A buddy of my uncles took me out. We had called a few different spots and it was around 11 am and we finally struck up a gobble and we start making our way towards him. We get to this little hump of dirt and crouch behind it and now there are gobbles. He tells me "slip up and you ought to be able to see one". I lift up and see 3 big blue and red heads about 10-12 feet away and I miss twice. I watched these big ol toms run/fly off and I was heartbroken.
My cousin came to hunt with me many years ago. While I usually stayed with Kenny Morgan, Cuz and I got a motel room at the then Holiday Inn in St. Francisville. On the drive to Jackson to hunt that morning, we were greeted by a black horse on a black road and I inadvertently hit the horse. The horse was badly broke down and with the guidance of my neurosurgeon cousin I placed the barrel of my shotgun next to the horses' brain stem and took him out of his misery. I can't remember if we had any hunting success later that day, but that horse cost me about ten days of hunting while my truck was getting repaired. I was proud of that 3/4 ton truck; had it been a 1/2 ton or a smaller vehicle that horse could have come through the windshield and into our laps.
Probably paying for a fall turkey hunt in Crawford Nebraska only to find out the turkeys don't spend the fall on that ranch
I got a high ankle sprain in the middle of my road trip last spring. Took 4 hours to get back to the truck on one leg and toting a long beard.. Had to limp around the rest of the season, but killed 3 more birds in 3 states on that trip, so looking back, it wasn't too bad..
Last year I got up early and left for some public about an hour away. Unfortunately 2-3 minutes down the road my truck started acting up and I had to turn around and go home. I waited all year for the opener and then missed it! That was a depressing morning but I just chalked it up to one of those that maybe the Lord was protecting me from something.
Sent from my iPhone using Tapatalk
Several years ago, my Dad and I were in Missouri. Been hunting all week, not having much luck dealing with quiet birds and lots of hunting pressure. We were hunting public land. Mid morning, we were driving down a back road and spotted a gobbler in full strut in a field that was bordered by public. This gobbler was all alone. Drove on past the gobbler, turned around and drove back past him 150 to 200 yards maybe more to a spot well on the public. Slipped off in the woods and hit a call. He cut us off before we could finished the call. We were not super close but didn't wanted to be near the private field. We probably were 150 yards or so into the woods from the truck as well. This gobbler was hot and coming fast. The only problem with that was he was walking down the edge of the road right of way! Gobbling every step. About that time we heard a vehicle coming. We were thinking DANG IT! It's going to spook the gobbler that's in plain view of the gravel road that was circling around and above us. Wish that was all that happened. All of a sudden, the Jeep stomped its brakes and BOOM!! He shot the gobbler out the Jeep window! Like I said, we were 150 or so off the edge, we jumped up and started to find out what just took place. We stepped out to see the Jeep sitting there running, door hanging open and no driver to be seen. About that time, here he comes running out of the woods and reaches into the Jeep and grabs his shotgun. He looks up just as he turns around to head back into the woods with the gun. He stops, freezes, and has the deer in the headlights look, the one saying OH $#@! I've been caught red-handed! He stared at us for for a couple seconds, gun at port arms, then sprints off into the woods and BOOM, shoots the crippled gobbler again! By now we are thinking this Dude is nuts! We decided this might turn out bad. Rather than confronting this lunatic, we made our way back to my truck and left out. Looking back, should have got a least a license plate number on the Jeep and reported it. However, the guys behavior was unbelievable and we had heard crazy stories from friends of ours that lived over there about all kinds of things with poachers and crimes in the area. Kind of had us spooked. I was just a teenager at the time. Nowadays, it would be a different outcome. My worst and probably Dad's worst hunt ever. Over 30 years ago now.
Sent from my SM-G990U2 using Tapatalk
My story takes place circa ~2018. For years prior, we turkey hunters really had it made. I'd always heard about the "good ol days", and never dreamed I was actually getting to experience them. Public land had always been crowded in certain regions of the US, but others you rarely saw a turkey hunter. Plenty of gobbling turkey to go around for everyone in a lot places. But then, social media and YouTube turkey hunting started to take hold. At first we were a little naive to the impact. Fast forward a couple springs and many of us realized what was about to happen to turkey hunting across the nation. You can read posts on this very forum predicting the mess we are now in. These visionaries were basically labeled "haters, jealous, etc. ". I went back and read posts a couple months ago and Holy crap. We were dead on predicting the future of turkey hunting, especially in regards to public land and non residents. Loss of opportunities everywhere. Public lands crowded beyond belief. Application numbers at all time highs. While a few sit back and laugh while making a good living out of the exploition of public lands. What's even sadder is the cult-like followings and imitators they have that just further exaggerate the problems. We've saw 20 years of change In turkey hunting in just 3 years. Just think what it could be like in another decade.
Now that's a SCARY turkey hunting story!
You got that one right, Nathan. PEOPLE.
Over almost sixty years of doing this, I have had a lot of less-than-enjoyable incidents occur. Thinking about it, though, here is the one that I would say was at the top of the list.
I was looking into a trip with my son (age 30-ish and an accomplished turkey hunter) several years ago to get him his first Osceola. I got a recommendation about a particular fellow and contacted him, with the stipulation that we just wanted access to a property with birds and that no other help was needed or wanted. We communicated several times with me emphasizing these requirements each time,...no guiding, we do our own hunting and calling, no blind hunting, access to a property only. He assured me on each conversation that this would be the case. He would get us on a good property and we would be able to go from there.
Fast forward,...we complete the needed monetary transactions, plane flights, reservations, etc. and head to our destination. First afternoon there, our "guide" takes us out to the property agreed upon and introduces us to the property owner. The guide takes my son and I go with the owner to different locations on the property. First thing that happens is the owner wants me to sit in a tent blind with him and wait for turkeys to come (looking back, I'm pretty sure the site was baited)! ...Starting to have second thoughts and my "dander" starting to rise. I tell the owner that I will not hunt out of a tent blind and that any turkeys that show up will not be shot,...but we can sit there as long as he wants...
The "guide" takes my son to another blind site,...pretty sure also baited...and says he will do all the calling. Short version, gobblers come (probably due to bait) and my son and another buddy kill a bird each. Their hunt is done.
Next morning, we go to another location where the guide says birds roost nearby. We set up along a ditch bank in a location that the guide says the turkeys will come. At daylight, gobblers are heard way off in the distance and I want to head to them and set up, but guide says no, they will come this way when they fly down. I question this logic, but bite my tongue.
As daylight comes on, the guide suddenly starts calling. After about an hour, two gobblers come walking down the ditch bank and I dispatch one of them. As we retrieve the gobbler, I notice that there are corn kernels scattered along the ditch! It is obvious the "guide" and the owner have been baiting these turkeys and we were doing nothing but shooting birds over bait!
At this point, I am livid,... but what is done is done. I am sitting there thinking that all of the parameters established prior to the hunt have been ignored and, quite frankly, feel like telling the guide to give us our money back. Again, I bite my tongue.
In the end, the trip cost me a few thousand dollars, shot turkeys over baited sites, never uttered a call, and the guy completely ignored every part of the agreement we had made for the hunt. I should have turned the guy into the authorities, but we were two thousand miles from home, and I didn't want to deal with the complications involved. I just wanted to get back home and forget about the entire experience. As others have said, just thinking about that trip just pisses me off again!
Conclusions: 1) Trip sucked 2) Lesson learned >:( ::)
I had left the campsite and driven my dirt bike/enduro to a spot where I'd called up a pair of gobblers week or two prior. I walked way in (like 4 miles). I struck the remaining gobbler and he came in perfect. I walked out of the wma and ended up at my motorcycle and a warden is there. He checks me etc and said he'd follow me to the check station so I could check it in. I said ok. I drive 10 miles to check station and do the drill. On way back to camp I needed to get off the highway onto a gravel road. I was running around 55 and put my signal on plenty early and also did some hand signals. The logging truck behind me was literally 6-8 feet from my back tire. And not slowing down for me to turn. I hit the gravel road into a turn doing about 45mph and absolutely wiped out. Tore my pants nearly off. Bleeding. My gun stock almost snapped (it was in a soft case across my back). My vest ripped and the gobbler went flying out of it. I had a piece of gravel under my skin on my knee