MOntana TURKEY HUNT FANTASTIC!!
04-20-2003, 03:01 PM
#1
Thread Starter
Join Date: Feb 2003
Location: Cut Bank MT USA
Posts: 50
MOntana TURKEY HUNT FANTASTIC!!
AWesome turkey hunt in SE MONTANA!!!
I had been anxiously awaiting my dad and my turkey hunt on April 17....and it finally came! We left at noon on Wednesday, April 16.....and arrived South of Baker, MT around 12:30 in the morning. We drove up the driveway of the rancher' s place that I wanted to hunt first, and set up a tent in an alfalfa field near his house. It was extremely foggy, and all I could see was the outlines of a few huge ponderosa pine trees. I dressed in all my camo and gear, set the alarm clock to 5 AM and went to bed.
I woke up to the beeping and immediately got up, realizing where I was at. I shook my dad, and he began getting ready. All of a sudden, I heard a truck start, and the rancher drove down his driveway off to do whatever he needed. Goo-bl-ooob-gooo-gooo-goo-bllee!! A symphony of gobblers echoed across the valley, the nearest one being only a few hundred yards up the creek bottom from us. The fog was still heavy, and I was shaking with anticipation.
We were hunting a long, isolated butte that jutted up out of the open prairie. Cotton wood covered creek bottoms led up to the timbered slopes, interspersed with open meadows and rimrock cliffs. Of course, I couldn' t see any of this, but I knew where it was at. We were going to be hunting both the rancher' s upper pasture and the National Forest Land above him. I had talked to people, looked at aerial and topographical maps, and made my best guess on how to approach hunting the birds. It is hard to travel 10 hours away from home, not being able to scout the turkeys, as many of you probably understand.
Meanwhile, the birds kept sounding off and this allowed us to locate them. There were 5 seperate areas that the gobbles were coming from, and we decided on the closest one, just up the creek bottom, at the base of a timbered ridge. Dad and I made our way slowly around the opposite side of the ridge, listening the whole time in an attempt to find where the gobblers were. We finally got up above them, and set out a hen decoy along a sheltered opening in the timber. My dad got uphill, and got in position against a huge pine tree. There were at least 4 gobblers in a roost not even 100 yards over the ridge, and we were going to try to bring them in. I moved back behind the hen decoy and gave a few soft yelps and was interrupted by a chorus of gobbles. I continued moving away from them, calling sparingly, and I heard them fly down only a few moments later. I remained silent for a few moments wondering what was happening.
Meanwhile, my dad watched as 4 gobblers crested the ridge just beside him. He couldn' t tell through the thick fog if they were toms or not, but he doesn' t care about the " beard length" anyways. They followed my calling down into the clearing below him, and he lined up on what he thought was the biggest when they reached 25 yards. I heard the shotgun blast and made my way back to find him admiring the downed bird. It wasn' t a huge tom or anything, but it was a very nice jake which might i add weighed 19 pounds. Well, that' s one bird down, and there were still birds gobbling all around us. We had 3 more to bag, and decided to seperate and go after different turkeys.
The fog was clearing, and the sun was rising. I headed east along the base of a huge ridge, and he went the opposite way. I followed the sounds of the gobbles, and about stepped on 3 jakes and a hen when I topped out on a hill. I myself was looking for a big tom, so I took pictures of the jakes strutting and gobbling and moved on. I ran into a few more bunches of jakes and a couple lone hens, but every time I located the source of a gobble it turned out to be a jake. Finally, I got up on a ridge, gave a few putts, then let out as loud of gobble as a I could with my primos diaphram call, and instantly a deep gobble sounded off below me. I played a game of cat and mouse with that darn gobbler for the next TWO HOURS. I' d move along the ridge above him, setup and call, and he' d just keep on walking parallel to me. Finally, I circled around way ahead of him, setup where I thought he' d cross a small valley, and waited. I was right where the pine covered fingers spread out into the open prairie, and this particular turkey was feeding along the edge of the pine trees, right along the prairie. I had set my hen decoy to my right, up the open meadow, hoping that he would see it and walk by me. Finally I saw his red head and bright white tail feathers coming around behind a group of pine trees. I putted a few times with my diaphram, then went silent. He took his time, strutting and gobbling, and of course stayed on the opposite side of the ridge out of range. He circled around behind the decoy, and broke the 40 yard mark....at which time I squeezed off the shot and dropped him. Man was he a beautiful merriam! 9.5 inch beard, 1 1/8 spurs and HEAVY! He ended up weighing 23 pounds, and I think he' ll score low to mid 60' s. I got a bunch of good pictures, which I will post later, then tagged him, strapped him onto my pack,and hiked the 3 miles back to the tent/truck. When I arrived, I found 2 jakes hanging in a tree next to the tent, and my dad with a huge smile on his face. He ended up running into the same 3 jakes and the hen I had taken pictures of, and busted one of them when they wandered by him. He loves to hunt, and would rather shoot a tasty jake then a tom, but if he got the chance I' m sure he' d rather have a big old tom. Well, it wasn' t even 11 AM on the first day of a planned 4 day trip, and we had 3 of our 4 birds. We spent the rest of the day driving back roads and just finding more areas and looking around. We saw a lot more birds in the various areas, and made a few attempts, but got outsmarted. I was packing my 02 Ultratec bow in hopes of getting one with it, but nothing ever got close enough. That evening, the weather got real bad, and it rained hard, snowed a little, and got very windy. We decided to hunt the next morning in a new spot, then head back after that. I woke up the next morning to heavy rain and even thicker fog. I took my bow out with me, and left my dad sleeping. I had roosted a huge tom the night before and set up above him well before dark. Right on time, he began gobbling and I called him up the hill and towards me. He strutted and gobbled his whole way towards me, and I remained hidden behind a dense patch of small pine trees and one huge ponderosa tree. I peered around the tree and saw him 30 yards away in full strut. I knocked an arrow, attached the release, and crept around the edge. Drawing back, I prayed that he wouldn' t hear or see me. He didn' t, and all I had to do now was wait for him to come out from behind a patch of brush. GOBOBOBBOBOBOLELELEE-not 20 yards directly behind me, a group of jakes thundered off. I dared not move my head so I just tried to use my peripheral vision to locate them. There they were right behind me. I was in full draw now for about 15 seconds, it wasn' t too bad-70% letoff, 55 lbs. I turned my attention back to the tom who was still in the same place. The jakes fed closer to me, and the tom fed away from me. I didn' t want to move, call, or breathe, and all I could do was hope he would go the right direction. I had been concentrating on the tom now for a while, and forgot about the jakes. My arm was begining to shake, and I don' t know how long I held still for, but it felt like a very long time. Eventually, I had to let down, the jakes spooked, the tom spooked, they won....lol
The weather continued to get worse, and we left around 9 to head back up to Northcentral-west montana, home for us. Along the way, I looked over topo maps and areas around the Bull Mountains region. I had heard there were a lot of birds there, but it was all private land. I convinced my dad to drive down a few side roads and check things out. We didn' t see any turkeys, but I stopped at a couple of ranches and asked if they had seen or heard many turkeys. At the 3rd ranch we stopped at, an older man answered the door and informed me he had heard a bunch gobbling just above his house that morning. I got permission to hunt his land, along with 4 of the neighboring landowners around him.
We pitched the tent along his driveway, and woke up the next morning, just as he had said, to gobbling. We followed their gobbles and set up ahead of them. We ended up going a lot farther than I anticipated, and the turkeys were about to cross over into another landowners property who I hadn' t gotten permission from. My dad started calling, along with me, and he moved back behind me, mimicking a hen moving away. I saw in a distant clearing, 11 turkeys, 2 toms and and the rest hens, feeding in a meadow. After some aggressive calling on my dad' s part, the flock shifted into our direction and away from the fence line I was hoping they wouldn' t cross. My dad continued calling, and the flock came by me at about 40 yards. The toms stayed in the middle and one of the jakes was bringing up the rear. I had gotten my trophy bird, and now I was just looking for a good eating turkey. Boom! Down he went, and my dad arrived to find me with a beautiful 3 inch bearded jake strung over my shoulder.
I' ve got to say, that was one of the funnest times I have ever had, and hunting these Merriam' s in montana is incredible. I got awesome pictures, and will post them when they get back. Next year I' m going to have an even bettter advantage, the new tru-woods turkey vest I won on here. I' ll probably use it for bowhunting too this coming fall, and I can' t wait to get it. Good luck to all you fellow turkey hunters out there and I hope you have as much fun as my dad and I did!
I had been anxiously awaiting my dad and my turkey hunt on April 17....and it finally came! We left at noon on Wednesday, April 16.....and arrived South of Baker, MT around 12:30 in the morning. We drove up the driveway of the rancher' s place that I wanted to hunt first, and set up a tent in an alfalfa field near his house. It was extremely foggy, and all I could see was the outlines of a few huge ponderosa pine trees. I dressed in all my camo and gear, set the alarm clock to 5 AM and went to bed.
I woke up to the beeping and immediately got up, realizing where I was at. I shook my dad, and he began getting ready. All of a sudden, I heard a truck start, and the rancher drove down his driveway off to do whatever he needed. Goo-bl-ooob-gooo-gooo-goo-bllee!! A symphony of gobblers echoed across the valley, the nearest one being only a few hundred yards up the creek bottom from us. The fog was still heavy, and I was shaking with anticipation.
We were hunting a long, isolated butte that jutted up out of the open prairie. Cotton wood covered creek bottoms led up to the timbered slopes, interspersed with open meadows and rimrock cliffs. Of course, I couldn' t see any of this, but I knew where it was at. We were going to be hunting both the rancher' s upper pasture and the National Forest Land above him. I had talked to people, looked at aerial and topographical maps, and made my best guess on how to approach hunting the birds. It is hard to travel 10 hours away from home, not being able to scout the turkeys, as many of you probably understand.
Meanwhile, the birds kept sounding off and this allowed us to locate them. There were 5 seperate areas that the gobbles were coming from, and we decided on the closest one, just up the creek bottom, at the base of a timbered ridge. Dad and I made our way slowly around the opposite side of the ridge, listening the whole time in an attempt to find where the gobblers were. We finally got up above them, and set out a hen decoy along a sheltered opening in the timber. My dad got uphill, and got in position against a huge pine tree. There were at least 4 gobblers in a roost not even 100 yards over the ridge, and we were going to try to bring them in. I moved back behind the hen decoy and gave a few soft yelps and was interrupted by a chorus of gobbles. I continued moving away from them, calling sparingly, and I heard them fly down only a few moments later. I remained silent for a few moments wondering what was happening.
Meanwhile, my dad watched as 4 gobblers crested the ridge just beside him. He couldn' t tell through the thick fog if they were toms or not, but he doesn' t care about the " beard length" anyways. They followed my calling down into the clearing below him, and he lined up on what he thought was the biggest when they reached 25 yards. I heard the shotgun blast and made my way back to find him admiring the downed bird. It wasn' t a huge tom or anything, but it was a very nice jake which might i add weighed 19 pounds. Well, that' s one bird down, and there were still birds gobbling all around us. We had 3 more to bag, and decided to seperate and go after different turkeys.
The fog was clearing, and the sun was rising. I headed east along the base of a huge ridge, and he went the opposite way. I followed the sounds of the gobbles, and about stepped on 3 jakes and a hen when I topped out on a hill. I myself was looking for a big tom, so I took pictures of the jakes strutting and gobbling and moved on. I ran into a few more bunches of jakes and a couple lone hens, but every time I located the source of a gobble it turned out to be a jake. Finally, I got up on a ridge, gave a few putts, then let out as loud of gobble as a I could with my primos diaphram call, and instantly a deep gobble sounded off below me. I played a game of cat and mouse with that darn gobbler for the next TWO HOURS. I' d move along the ridge above him, setup and call, and he' d just keep on walking parallel to me. Finally, I circled around way ahead of him, setup where I thought he' d cross a small valley, and waited. I was right where the pine covered fingers spread out into the open prairie, and this particular turkey was feeding along the edge of the pine trees, right along the prairie. I had set my hen decoy to my right, up the open meadow, hoping that he would see it and walk by me. Finally I saw his red head and bright white tail feathers coming around behind a group of pine trees. I putted a few times with my diaphram, then went silent. He took his time, strutting and gobbling, and of course stayed on the opposite side of the ridge out of range. He circled around behind the decoy, and broke the 40 yard mark....at which time I squeezed off the shot and dropped him. Man was he a beautiful merriam! 9.5 inch beard, 1 1/8 spurs and HEAVY! He ended up weighing 23 pounds, and I think he' ll score low to mid 60' s. I got a bunch of good pictures, which I will post later, then tagged him, strapped him onto my pack,and hiked the 3 miles back to the tent/truck. When I arrived, I found 2 jakes hanging in a tree next to the tent, and my dad with a huge smile on his face. He ended up running into the same 3 jakes and the hen I had taken pictures of, and busted one of them when they wandered by him. He loves to hunt, and would rather shoot a tasty jake then a tom, but if he got the chance I' m sure he' d rather have a big old tom. Well, it wasn' t even 11 AM on the first day of a planned 4 day trip, and we had 3 of our 4 birds. We spent the rest of the day driving back roads and just finding more areas and looking around. We saw a lot more birds in the various areas, and made a few attempts, but got outsmarted. I was packing my 02 Ultratec bow in hopes of getting one with it, but nothing ever got close enough. That evening, the weather got real bad, and it rained hard, snowed a little, and got very windy. We decided to hunt the next morning in a new spot, then head back after that. I woke up the next morning to heavy rain and even thicker fog. I took my bow out with me, and left my dad sleeping. I had roosted a huge tom the night before and set up above him well before dark. Right on time, he began gobbling and I called him up the hill and towards me. He strutted and gobbled his whole way towards me, and I remained hidden behind a dense patch of small pine trees and one huge ponderosa tree. I peered around the tree and saw him 30 yards away in full strut. I knocked an arrow, attached the release, and crept around the edge. Drawing back, I prayed that he wouldn' t hear or see me. He didn' t, and all I had to do now was wait for him to come out from behind a patch of brush. GOBOBOBBOBOBOLELELEE-not 20 yards directly behind me, a group of jakes thundered off. I dared not move my head so I just tried to use my peripheral vision to locate them. There they were right behind me. I was in full draw now for about 15 seconds, it wasn' t too bad-70% letoff, 55 lbs. I turned my attention back to the tom who was still in the same place. The jakes fed closer to me, and the tom fed away from me. I didn' t want to move, call, or breathe, and all I could do was hope he would go the right direction. I had been concentrating on the tom now for a while, and forgot about the jakes. My arm was begining to shake, and I don' t know how long I held still for, but it felt like a very long time. Eventually, I had to let down, the jakes spooked, the tom spooked, they won....lol
The weather continued to get worse, and we left around 9 to head back up to Northcentral-west montana, home for us. Along the way, I looked over topo maps and areas around the Bull Mountains region. I had heard there were a lot of birds there, but it was all private land. I convinced my dad to drive down a few side roads and check things out. We didn' t see any turkeys, but I stopped at a couple of ranches and asked if they had seen or heard many turkeys. At the 3rd ranch we stopped at, an older man answered the door and informed me he had heard a bunch gobbling just above his house that morning. I got permission to hunt his land, along with 4 of the neighboring landowners around him.
We pitched the tent along his driveway, and woke up the next morning, just as he had said, to gobbling. We followed their gobbles and set up ahead of them. We ended up going a lot farther than I anticipated, and the turkeys were about to cross over into another landowners property who I hadn' t gotten permission from. My dad started calling, along with me, and he moved back behind me, mimicking a hen moving away. I saw in a distant clearing, 11 turkeys, 2 toms and and the rest hens, feeding in a meadow. After some aggressive calling on my dad' s part, the flock shifted into our direction and away from the fence line I was hoping they wouldn' t cross. My dad continued calling, and the flock came by me at about 40 yards. The toms stayed in the middle and one of the jakes was bringing up the rear. I had gotten my trophy bird, and now I was just looking for a good eating turkey. Boom! Down he went, and my dad arrived to find me with a beautiful 3 inch bearded jake strung over my shoulder.
I' ve got to say, that was one of the funnest times I have ever had, and hunting these Merriam' s in montana is incredible. I got awesome pictures, and will post them when they get back. Next year I' m going to have an even bettter advantage, the new tru-woods turkey vest I won on here. I' ll probably use it for bowhunting too this coming fall, and I can' t wait to get it. Good luck to all you fellow turkey hunters out there and I hope you have as much fun as my dad and I did!
04-20-2003, 04:02 PM
#2
Join Date: Feb 2003
Location: The Wild Turkey Capitol of the World......Missouri
Posts: 1,027
RE: MOntana TURKEY HUNT FANTASTIC!!
Sounds like you had an incredibly good time on your hunt, MH16! It' s great to hear success stories like that. You will have the memories of that hunt for the rest of your life. Post a pic or two when you get them. Congratulations!!
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