Joe, I think there is a reason God put me in a place with very few chances to hunt elk. The very act of decoy and/or calling an animal in while hunting is my greatest weakness. Ducks over decoys on a pothole when I was a kid in the duck factory of North Dakota, talking turkey in the woods, buck snorting and rattling antlers....this stuff is a drug! I think I would simply burst like an overfilled waterballoon working a hot bull elk. It may be for the good, like I said.
Ok, Wednesday morning I went up to 128 Roost. I was in way early again and got right up nice and tight under the roost. I had the box call I had won last year at the Tennessee Classic, but had forgotten the rivercane yelper. Dawn came slipping in wearing her silent moccasins, without a sound but stirring everyone one way or another.
Apparently my Redwing boots were soft as braintan this morning because as the dawn came, the humps and bumps of the ground turned out to be 6 fat muley does bedded and sound asleep. As the first awoke and began sniffing the air a mere 20 yds from me, she snorted like she had gotten a nose full of full strength Drain-O! She was on her feet with the rest of her sisters in a flash and bounding every which way. They knew Man was there, but not where he was. It was Keystone Kops stuff and I nearly blew up stifling laughter.
Their commotion woke the birds on roost and alarm putts went off! I swear it sounded like a JiffyPop factory on fire! Birds, and plenty of them! Downside of the whole thing....they were 75 yds away and across a highway from me. This hiway leads to many subdivisions that are bedroom communities and this was a weekday workday. By the time I parked the traffic was already starting. By flydown there would be a steady stream of SUV's, minivans, and soccer moms heading for their Stabucks fix and their workaday lives.
I was devastated for the third time on this roost this year. Zero for 3 smarts, but not the worst streak I have ever played thru. Time to make lemonade from this big yellow sucker in my lap! I began to key off the dominant hen. She sounded like a two pack a day smoker, so raspy and deep. I wanted to see if I could get her mad enough to get into a cutting fight. Maybe one of the less dominant toms would move over this side and roost up for me for tomorrow!
I got her hot and bothered and that wound up the toms tighter than a $3 watch! The gobblers were blowing their pipes out and the hens were getting pretty smart mouthed with me. It was starting to get embarrassingly personal, the turkey insults were edging into inappropriate subjects, so I decided to ramp things up a bit more.
I got up and started to walk down the ridgeline parallel to the hiway, calling every few steps. At 75 yds, I turned 180 and walked back even faster, calling all the while. Back and forth on the ridgeline, walking faster, finally jogging back and forth. The hens across the road were whipped to a froth when I realized I had not heard a gobbler in a while. Just that moment I heard yet another car coming down the road, accellerating out of the corner....until the brakes came on and the tires began to squeal! OH BATCRAP!
I dropped the call and ran like mad for my seat cushion beneath the tall ponderosa 75 yds away. That's where my shotgun lay. I skidded to my knees as the first gobble from 30 yds out erupted. Another gobble and a double gobble as I got my knees up and the shotgun in position. The safety clicked off and the birds were so close it caused an alarm putt. The red head appeared less than 20 yds away, walking up the hill towards me. He looked at me and turned to my left, putting like nuts! His breast came over the rise and I saw beard. Another step and I pulled the trigger.
I was carrying the Benelli this morning, and it spoke with supreme authority. I had loaded with Hevy Shot magnum duck loads in #4's. It was a sealed deal instantly! I found the bird at the bottom of the hill deader than Fatty Arbuckles movie career. He was a plump 2 yr old. Not a bad beard for a 2 yr old, but nothing to brag about.
He's a trophy to me because of how the morning played out. I was at a big disadvantage from the get-go. I played the hand I was dealt, bluffed like a boss, went all-in, and won the pot.
Like I told Joe, calling or decoying just thrills me. I find there is an ethical side to it that other hunting maybe doesn't carry. Here I am beating them at their own game, they are not going to be in range unless I can convince them that is where they WANT to be. What a wonderful morning. I was home and making coffee before 6:15 a.m.
