Cinco de Mayo bird down (long story with pic)
05-11-2006, 12:28 PM
#1
Nontypical Buck
Thread Starter
Join Date: Feb 2003
Location: SW Michigan
Posts: 1,906
Cinco de Mayo bird down (long story with pic)
Sorry I've taken so long to post, I've been after numbers 2 & 3...
Sunrise on the third day of the season found me in mixed woods at a local horsefarm for the third consecutive day. My daughter had identified a strutter the week earlier (Papa was proud of his 5yr old
), and the past two mornings that bird had worked his way to the pasture. Instead of just setting up the blind in the pasture, with a few dekes, I decided I would try and play "pro caller" and call him off the roost...
After he again made his way to the pasture [&:], I high-tailed it to the woods edge. The first morning, he had a harem of 5 hens and 2 jakes. This day, he was down to 4 hens, with no other males. Two of the hens quickly broke away, in opposite directions, most likely tending to their nests. A third hen worked her way in the third compass direction, when I started trying to sweet talk the old bird into range. The lone hen he was courting did not appreciate a newcomer trying to steal her man, and she slowly but surely yelped him into a neighbors (non-huntable) pine stand to the south.
While contemplating why I was such an idiot for not setting up on the pasture's edge, I noticed that the birds had re-emerged from the pine patch , approximately 200 yards from my position. They were joined by another strutter, who quickly got put in his place by the alpha male. The hen was trying to pick her way north across the pasture, towards an impenetrable mass of multiflora roses on the opposite side of the field. I had watched 8 jakes, which I had called into 10 yards the previous day, walk into the mangled mess and disappear altogether.
I was determined to try and get this bird that day, rather than wait for the first Saturday of the season, when hunter numbers would be ten-fold higher. I quickly decided I would try and do an end-around, walking the pasture edge and venturing into the mass of thorns, which I was now calling "hell" under my breath.
As it turned out, the going was much easier than I had anticipated, as the horses had trampled down a few paths. In about 15 minutes, I was straddling the barbwire and was again in the pasture, directly opposite and slightly uphill of where I had last spied the birds. I hit the crow call, nothing. Hit it again, and again no response. I surmised that perhaps they had beat me to the spot, or perhaps had gone back into the pines.
I bear-crawled about 10 yards into the pasture, when I spotted the rounded fan still erect on the other side of the field. I quickly dropped, and bear-crawled over to an abandoned manure spreader. This particular section of pasture was in rough shape, as the property had just been logged, and this area was used as the landing.
After getting settled, I gave a few soft clucks and purrs every 5 minutes, with no progress. After 45 minutes, I thought that the birds must had moved off, as they were only 125 yards away when I began. After creeping forward, I again spied the fan. I slithered back to the spreader, dropped gear, and was going commando---that's right, belly-crawling through manure laden muck---after that bird!!
After progressing 25 yards, I realized that the inch and a half of rain we received 2 days earlier were making me rethink my approach, as the nastiness underneath me was anything but pleasant. But hell, I only needed another 50 yards, and the knoll keeping the bird and I hidden from one another was still 25 yards away. If I could crawl the last 25 yards, keeping some old and new growth pasture grasses between us, I knew I could harvest this longbeard.
Of course, with my spirits slightly lifted and my attention diverted from the hell I was crawling through, the horses decided to visit. Now if anybody has ever belly-crawled on a turkey, ya' know that the one thing you do not want is to actually attract their attention. Instead, here I am prone in the muck, with 15 horses surrounding me including a 2000 pound Belgian white draft monster. From the ground I swear she was Godzilla, and at that point I was just praying she didn't think I was a coyote and stomp the living hell outta me...
Luckily I was able to shoo them away, and crept the 25 yards to the edge of the knoll, where the taller grasses started. At this point I noticed that the other 2 birds, the hen and jake, were actually between me and the longbeard...and all I could kept thinking to myself was, "If you had just set up the blind on the pasture's edge...you moron..."
After creeping into the taller vegetation and picking out a suitable approach, the horses again decided they needed an even closer inspection. At this point, I'm assuming that this gig is gonna be up, because I'm pretty close to the birds and there's three of them. I slammed the ground with my fists, mostly out of frustration, only to have Godzilla's daughter neigh and try to nuzzle my hat. I checked on the birds, and realized that they were unfazed by the beasts. The strutter was accustomed to the attention, and I wondered if the horses were actually trying to protect the idiot with the walnut-sized brain...
And that's when my best idea of the day hit me. I mean hell, when you're already slathered in manure soaked mud, surrounded by 1000 pound beasts that can stomp you into mincemeat, what worse could happen I thought...
With at least 25 yards to go for a 50 yard clear shot, I decided to use the horses to my advantage. The majority were between me and the birds, and if I was fast enough, estimated I could bear-crawl about 15 yards very quickly by using them as a shield. Luckily for me it worked, and after dropping into a thick burdock patch---yeah, like I said, the day was just getting better every second---the strutter was only about 60 yards away.
I inched my way very slowly along some openings, keeping the tallest reeds between me and the birds. The jake and hen then added to my anxiety, and walked away from the tom in opposite directions. The hen headed down towards the pines, and the jake headed up towards the barn. Now I was surrounded by a triangle of eyes, but still needed to creep forward ~5-10 yards...
Luckily, the jake worked himself away from the tom quickly, and I was able to resume my pursuit. It seemed like it took forever, but I was finally within range. I raised up and clicked off the safety, and the old bruiser finally decided something wasn't right. Finally dropping his fan, he began slowly working towards the hen. "Crap, he knows the gig is up..." I mutter, but now there's actually some of the higher brush blocking my shot...$hit!!
He keeps picking his way, until he stops and struts, now at about 55 yards. I get his bright white orb in the crosshairs of the red-dot, and although I think he caught my movement, unfortunately for him he decided to look my direction before entering the pines.
The ensuing muzzleblast scared the bejesus out of the nearby horses, and had me running at full tilt across the field to claim my prize, which was left flopping feet from the fence and the safety of the pines. The stalk took nearly an hour, lasting 47 minutes from the first move until I retrieved the gobbler...
A dandy of a bird, and I will remember that hunt the rest of my life. A week later, and I'm still sore. I'm not sure how our soldiers do it day in & day out, my hat is definitely off to them...
Stats: 25 lbs, 10.5" beard, 3/4" & 13/16" spurs. The birds on this farm have some screwy genetics with their spurs, as myself and a few others have taken birds with no spurs, small spurs and even double spurs the last few years, and hence I think this boy was about 3 years old. We broke our scale at home, so for the contest I deducted 10% of his estimated weight, although he was heavier than my son who weighed 25.5 pounds at his checkup a few weeks ago When I arrived home, we initiated my son, who proceeded to thump the bird a few more times just for good measure...
Sunrise on the third day of the season found me in mixed woods at a local horsefarm for the third consecutive day. My daughter had identified a strutter the week earlier (Papa was proud of his 5yr old
), and the past two mornings that bird had worked his way to the pasture. Instead of just setting up the blind in the pasture, with a few dekes, I decided I would try and play "pro caller" and call him off the roost...After he again made his way to the pasture [&:], I high-tailed it to the woods edge. The first morning, he had a harem of 5 hens and 2 jakes. This day, he was down to 4 hens, with no other males. Two of the hens quickly broke away, in opposite directions, most likely tending to their nests. A third hen worked her way in the third compass direction, when I started trying to sweet talk the old bird into range. The lone hen he was courting did not appreciate a newcomer trying to steal her man, and she slowly but surely yelped him into a neighbors (non-huntable) pine stand to the south.
While contemplating why I was such an idiot for not setting up on the pasture's edge, I noticed that the birds had re-emerged from the pine patch , approximately 200 yards from my position. They were joined by another strutter, who quickly got put in his place by the alpha male. The hen was trying to pick her way north across the pasture, towards an impenetrable mass of multiflora roses on the opposite side of the field. I had watched 8 jakes, which I had called into 10 yards the previous day, walk into the mangled mess and disappear altogether.
I was determined to try and get this bird that day, rather than wait for the first Saturday of the season, when hunter numbers would be ten-fold higher. I quickly decided I would try and do an end-around, walking the pasture edge and venturing into the mass of thorns, which I was now calling "hell" under my breath.
As it turned out, the going was much easier than I had anticipated, as the horses had trampled down a few paths. In about 15 minutes, I was straddling the barbwire and was again in the pasture, directly opposite and slightly uphill of where I had last spied the birds. I hit the crow call, nothing. Hit it again, and again no response. I surmised that perhaps they had beat me to the spot, or perhaps had gone back into the pines.
I bear-crawled about 10 yards into the pasture, when I spotted the rounded fan still erect on the other side of the field. I quickly dropped, and bear-crawled over to an abandoned manure spreader. This particular section of pasture was in rough shape, as the property had just been logged, and this area was used as the landing.
After getting settled, I gave a few soft clucks and purrs every 5 minutes, with no progress. After 45 minutes, I thought that the birds must had moved off, as they were only 125 yards away when I began. After creeping forward, I again spied the fan. I slithered back to the spreader, dropped gear, and was going commando---that's right, belly-crawling through manure laden muck---after that bird!!
After progressing 25 yards, I realized that the inch and a half of rain we received 2 days earlier were making me rethink my approach, as the nastiness underneath me was anything but pleasant. But hell, I only needed another 50 yards, and the knoll keeping the bird and I hidden from one another was still 25 yards away. If I could crawl the last 25 yards, keeping some old and new growth pasture grasses between us, I knew I could harvest this longbeard.
Of course, with my spirits slightly lifted and my attention diverted from the hell I was crawling through, the horses decided to visit. Now if anybody has ever belly-crawled on a turkey, ya' know that the one thing you do not want is to actually attract their attention. Instead, here I am prone in the muck, with 15 horses surrounding me including a 2000 pound Belgian white draft monster. From the ground I swear she was Godzilla, and at that point I was just praying she didn't think I was a coyote and stomp the living hell outta me...
Luckily I was able to shoo them away, and crept the 25 yards to the edge of the knoll, where the taller grasses started. At this point I noticed that the other 2 birds, the hen and jake, were actually between me and the longbeard...and all I could kept thinking to myself was, "If you had just set up the blind on the pasture's edge...you moron..."
After creeping into the taller vegetation and picking out a suitable approach, the horses again decided they needed an even closer inspection. At this point, I'm assuming that this gig is gonna be up, because I'm pretty close to the birds and there's three of them. I slammed the ground with my fists, mostly out of frustration, only to have Godzilla's daughter neigh and try to nuzzle my hat. I checked on the birds, and realized that they were unfazed by the beasts. The strutter was accustomed to the attention, and I wondered if the horses were actually trying to protect the idiot with the walnut-sized brain...
And that's when my best idea of the day hit me. I mean hell, when you're already slathered in manure soaked mud, surrounded by 1000 pound beasts that can stomp you into mincemeat, what worse could happen I thought...
With at least 25 yards to go for a 50 yard clear shot, I decided to use the horses to my advantage. The majority were between me and the birds, and if I was fast enough, estimated I could bear-crawl about 15 yards very quickly by using them as a shield. Luckily for me it worked, and after dropping into a thick burdock patch---yeah, like I said, the day was just getting better every second---the strutter was only about 60 yards away.
I inched my way very slowly along some openings, keeping the tallest reeds between me and the birds. The jake and hen then added to my anxiety, and walked away from the tom in opposite directions. The hen headed down towards the pines, and the jake headed up towards the barn. Now I was surrounded by a triangle of eyes, but still needed to creep forward ~5-10 yards...
Luckily, the jake worked himself away from the tom quickly, and I was able to resume my pursuit. It seemed like it took forever, but I was finally within range. I raised up and clicked off the safety, and the old bruiser finally decided something wasn't right. Finally dropping his fan, he began slowly working towards the hen. "Crap, he knows the gig is up..." I mutter, but now there's actually some of the higher brush blocking my shot...$hit!!
He keeps picking his way, until he stops and struts, now at about 55 yards. I get his bright white orb in the crosshairs of the red-dot, and although I think he caught my movement, unfortunately for him he decided to look my direction before entering the pines.
The ensuing muzzleblast scared the bejesus out of the nearby horses, and had me running at full tilt across the field to claim my prize, which was left flopping feet from the fence and the safety of the pines. The stalk took nearly an hour, lasting 47 minutes from the first move until I retrieved the gobbler...
A dandy of a bird, and I will remember that hunt the rest of my life. A week later, and I'm still sore. I'm not sure how our soldiers do it day in & day out, my hat is definitely off to them...
Stats: 25 lbs, 10.5" beard, 3/4" & 13/16" spurs. The birds on this farm have some screwy genetics with their spurs, as myself and a few others have taken birds with no spurs, small spurs and even double spurs the last few years, and hence I think this boy was about 3 years old. We broke our scale at home, so for the contest I deducted 10% of his estimated weight, although he was heavier than my son who weighed 25.5 pounds at his checkup a few weeks ago
When I arrived home, we initiated my son, who proceeded to thump the bird a few more times just for good measure...
05-11-2006, 01:25 PM
#2
Nontypical Buck
Join Date: Jan 2005
Location:
Posts: 1,118
RE: Cinco de Mayo bird down (long story with pic)
Awesome story strut and rut!! Sometimes those long and painful stalks/low crawls can be just as exciting as a bird coming in strutting the whole way.
I hope the horses didnt tear threw a fence after you shot..
I hope the horses didnt tear threw a fence after you shot..
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