Pictures will need to come later as the wife needed the Olympus for grandkids pics and I had to use a disposable camera, but here's my story (and I'm sticking to it). Sorry for the long write up in advance.
I hadn't hunted in north Lincoln County in 4 years, but when all my normal group couldn't go I made a last minute decision to at least go there. I found out that two kids would be on the property while I was there, one with a dad's friend early in the week and one with his dad later in the week. The easiest places and birds to hunt is up the canyon behind the landowners house and the canyon across the creek and below his house. Even though there would be a two day gap between the young mens hunts, I knew I didn't want to mess with the birds in that area to give them the best chance. So opening morning I was at the other end of the property where you have some fairly steep, long hills to climb ... but at 62 yrs old it just takes me longer to make those climbs (and to recover).
Opening morning I was up at 3:45 and heading up the hill at 4:45 towards where I roosted them the night before. Mid 20 degrees and some drizzle. They would most likely be taking one of two routes after flydown. The turkey concert started at 5:10, flydown was at 5:30, turkey games lasted for the next hour, and then the turkey parade began at 6:30. I had made the wrong choice for my setup and watched the 3 nice huge toms and numerous hens pass at 55 to 60 yards thinking all the time how tough it is to be patient and not force the action (definitely could of used Little Buck for sure). I kind of regretted it even more when they moved into the thickest brush near the creek bottom down the hill I had just come up as there was no way to make this a happy ending for me under the circumstances now (patience my a$$, I want to kill something). They gave me the silent treatment for the rest of the day which was frustrating. The winds were enough now to blow me around the mountains too. After a few hours (and about an hour after hearing 4 blasts down towards my landowners house), I decided to mosey down the hill and head for a visit with him a bit, eat a little lunch, and see if the younster scored. It turns out that hunters had come in from an adjacent landowners, missed, and buggered up the kids hunt. He ended up passing on 2 jakes, wanting a big tom instead, and ended up not getting a bird.
So I climbed the hill again, setup for the afternoon and evening about 200 yards from the roost tree along the route where I thought the birds would return. After several hours, I let hen after hen pass within 10 yards heading up towards the roost trees for over 45 minutes. About 6:15 the hens lit up to let the toms know it was time for a get together. The gobble was approx. 600 yards hundred away, but I knew I had made a good decision. Fifteen minutes later I harvested a 20.5 lb, 8-1/2 in beard, 3/4 inch Rio at 15 yards.
The next day the winds were even worse and still mid-20's, but I climbed the mountain again and setup where they had come though the day before. Glory be, the turkey concert started at 5:00 from the same roost trees and I felt I'm defintely in business. But at 6:15 when they went the opposite direction, I knew roosted don't mean roasted. I move in a circular direction and move in, but can't get them any closer than 50 to 60 yards to look and retreat. I'm now starting to loose my patience, and that would cost me as I ended up bumping hens and getting busted by hens a couple times during the day.
I finally setup later that afternoon in a new location using my portable ground blind ... after 2 hours three toms came in silently from behind and busted me as I was taking a drink of water.
Wednesday I was sick ... along with strong winds and 21 degrees ... I only hunted a couple of hours.
Thursday morning, I setup between the gobblers which were roosted about 200 yards apart in different trees, but still in the genreal area of their usual roost trees. I knew I was in business when their gobbling was coming closer from both sides. Darn hens busted me again wouldn't you know ... but wait, then is a new chorus coming form the hill on the other side of the creek and he sounds hot. Down the one side and then a circular route up the other to get up to where he's struting and gobbling. Almost in his kitchen ... putt, putt, putt ... yep, busted by the hens again.
So down the hill for a drive to Yelp's camp and a short visit. Well, even tough the visit was longer than planned, it was time well spent as it was good to see him and many of his crew ... and they had 9 birds in camp at that time. Couldn't be happier. So I return to the happy hunting grounds with renewed determination, about noon I head up the hill one more time even though every muscle is screaming "no, don't do it"! Wind has come up again. Find a nice whitetail shed ... wahoo. Work a few toms but they don't want to leave their spot out of the wind, and no way to apprach closer. I finally back out and plan on setting up in a spot down the hill towards the creek where there's less wind as it's getting very cold. Roll the darn ankle on the way ... okay this hurts ... go back to soak it. Had been invited to visit husband and wife friends at their home that evening, so got cleaned up and called it a day. Really great to see them too, and found out that other youth had take one of the numerous jakes at the lower end of the property ...his first. Now that really makes my day ...
Well Friday was to be my last day, but the forecast was for strong winds and heavy rain which we got ... and the ankle and rest of my body are still really sore. Heading home happy ... one nice tom, one nice shed, getting to see good friends again, youth getting his first bird ... priceless !
