After going bust on the first week of the 2014 Wisconsin spring turkey opener, I begged my cousin to go hunting with me last Saturday. I figure every time that I’m in the woods alone, I have a fairly good shot at having birds in the area, but more than likely hanging up. There’s a slim chance that I’ll fill a tag on my own, but just being in the woods is always a blessing. After eating tag sandwich the first week, then having to sit tight the next two weeks due to not having a tag, I was itching to get out on the fourth week. And not just get out, but shoot a turkey in the face! So, the best way to guarantee that I kill an animal is to call up the greatest outdoorsman I know and beg him to be my guide.
On Saturday morning, the day before Mother’s Day, my cousin Adam took me to a spot on public land that we roosted birds at the night before. We were running late that morning because it got light on us so quickly, so we parked the truck, sprinted 200 yards down the road, and hunkered down underneath a huge white pine. I loved this spot because it was right next to an overflowing creek, and there were smaller pines growing at the base of the forest floor among massive white pines, so they created natural blinds to conceal ourselves behind. As soon as we sat down, Adam became talking to the birds. Across the road 100 yards away, several birds sounded off immediately. It sounded like there were at least 2 jakes and a tom, which one can assume meant there were more young birds that didn’t thunder back. Down the road, at what sounded like 200 yards, another gobbler would respond to the groups gobbles. Since that bird was so far away, Adam talked to the group that seemed to have the most interest and would easily produce a jake for me to fill my tag with. We heard the birds fly down and could tell by the change in sound that they were on the ground and coming our way. In a third direction, more turkeys joined in on the conversation, but were not anywhere close to reaching our decoys before these jakes, so we didn’t pay too much attention to them.
All of a sudden, the lone gobbler that seemed to be roosted 200 yards away, was now approximately 80 yards away. The distance he closed within minutes could only be explained by the fact that he must have taken the shoulder of the road towards us, and used the bridge that went over the flooded creek as a corridor! A truck went rumbling by just as all the birds sounded like they were up on the road, so we expected to hear a “THUMP”, but the gobblers must have waited until the truck went by to cross the road. The lone gobbler beat the jakes to the deeks and walked silently to within 20 yards. He became uneasy and started to pout. Adam whispered, “Shoot him, SHOOT HIM”, but I had an 8 inch pine in my line of vision. Luckily, instead of turning back around the way he came, the gobbler gave me three more steps, bringing his blue head just to the right of the pine. I shot, knowing that I had a very small target exposed. He flopped immediately and Adam ran to secure him. After the adrenaline wore off, I checked out the tree, which had half of my LongBeard XR pattern in its bark. Adam called in a three year old, 9.5 inch beard, 19 pounds. Last year, Adam guided me on my first ever Jake, and this spring, he sweet-talked my first Tom. I’m so appreciative to have a cousin like him, who I consider my brother, who unselfishly takes me hunting whenever I ask. There aren’t many people who I would consider an ace-in-the-hole when it comes to knowing the ins and outs of each and every species of game in Wisconsin, but Adam definitely does. In fact, Adam called in my bird at first light on Saturday, then helped his sister’s boyfriend Rick bag a beautiful gobbler just two hours later!
