One of the Most Dangerous Animals

It was just after daybreak. I had watched her for about 30 minutes in the dark as she worked her way across the field.  She was both beautiful and dangerous. In fact, if you think about it, most things in nature share those two attributes.

Mount Everest is one example. The largest mountain in the world has enticed many a climber with her glorious beauty. She is also a killer. Nearly everyone that has ventured to the summit has come back with either parts of their bodies missing and damaged through frostbite or falls or parts of their soul grieving for the bodies they spot on the way to or from the peak. It is too dangerous to return the fallen, so the climbers that did not make lay scattered throughout the mountain. Having made authors such as Jon Krakauer and Anatoli Boukreev famous with their stories of Everest’s ferocity, it still isn’t close to causing the death, destruction, and disease of the beast that was in front of me.

Niagara with all her history and splendidness is also a devout widow-maker. She has power that few things or places on this world could ever compare to. Many times you can visit something that is regarded as larger than life and then once you get there you realize “wow, it’s not nearly as impressive as I thought it was.” Not Niagara Falls. It actually is beyond what you can imagine. The force of the water slapping the rocks below, the spray that results towering higher than any building it is very impressive. From miles away the sound and spray can be seen. Many daredevils have ventured down the river on their way to the drop. Only a few have survived. Yet it still does not contend with what stood just yards away from me.

Yes, this was the moment. Her kind was scarce just a few decades ago. Through both management and mismanagement she began to flourish however. In fact she is so common throughout the state that North Carolina has allowed unlimited harvest. She destroys landscapes. She decimates food crops. And during the months of October through December she especially burdensome to travelers. She fears not the would-be driver and often will head for direct impact. She also shares parasites, mites, and ticks with both people and pets.

This would be my chance to turn the tables. It had now been nearly an hour after I first saw her. I was not sure I would get an opportunity. She walked from left to right out of the swamp, occasionally pulling up soybeans as she strolled through the field. Patiently I waited. For some reason she turned. I remained still and steadfast sitting on the lock-on stand. She made another turn offering my movement to grab my bow without her noticing. She then turned back toward me once again. I could tell she was completely unaware of my presence. Her ears twitching away from me and back toward the swamp gave away her lack of insight. A little closer, that is all I needed.

Then she walked towards the stand and was only a few yards away. No clear shot for her vitals, I knew I still had one shot available. Nearly directly under me I set the sights. With one steady pull the string and arrow locked in place on the Pearson Stealth II. My right index finger slowly moved up and over the release trigger. Instinctively, the pin glided to the intended point of impact and the trigger was grazed.

The spine shot laid down the doe immediately. Thirty seconds later and another deer would be done.

Video: Archery Spine Shot on a Deer

Video of a deer hunt this weekend in which the result was a spine shot with the bow. The deer expired in 30 seconds after impact (edited on video to prevent graphic nature).

 

 

 

Preparation

Preparation is an interesting concept.  From the old scouting motto of ‘be prepared’ to the new word of the day ‘doomsday preppers’, it means one thing; being ready.

For deer season, preparation includes things such as planting food plots, scouting for funnel areas and game trails, setting stands, and sighting in weapons.  Even the daydreaming that consists of visualizing the big buck come out and taking the shot is a form of preparation for what may come.

And then there is over-preparation.  This will sound strange and contradictory but I am not a believer in over preparation myself.  However I do believe you can convince yourself of something and become so expectant on the foreshadowed result that when it does not go exactly to plan, mistakes will result.

For instance, I have been fortunate to escape the anxiety of so called ‘buck fever’.  Granted, I have only been in a position in which I was even within shooting range of the ‘big one’ a couple of times, and then only when I could not take the shot due to either legal shooting hours or the shot just not presenting itself to make it ethically.  On opening day last year I was prepared to take a big doe or buck.  I did all the things mentioned earlier.  I knew when the deer would come out.  In fact, the first doe came out within 10 minutes of when I expected, at exactly the location I expected.  She walked up to within 10 yards of my stand.  The problem was I was not prepared for the other five deer than came out right behind her and kept looking toward her.  By looking at her, they were also looking in my direction, making it all but impossible to draw the bow for the fatal shot.

For those that do not know, I am an avid bowhunter.  Over the last decade of my life the bow has become as much a part of me as any piece of clothing or facial feature I may have.  I bowhunt year round, and have become extremely fond of bowfishing as well.  But I have never competed in an archery competition.

Until this weekend.

I have shot in a couple of 3-d tournaments in which I did not keep score.  A 3-d tournament is one in which targets designed as game animals are placed at different yardages in natural cover (usually in the woods) so that the archer has to judge distance and accurately hit the target in what would be the vital area of a real animal.  The vital area is then sectioned off to smaller circular areas that count for higher points if hit.

The first tournament I shot in was at Cherry Point.  It was mainly a way for me to, here comes that word, prepare for hunting seasons by visualizing the game in a natural setting.  The second tournament was located in the mountains.  It was a charity fundraiser shoot.  My nephews and oldest son tagged along and we got to walk a beautiful course in a fun and challenging location.  Each time I shot my hunting bow the way I have it set up for hunting, you know, since I was preparing for hunting season.

Now we are to this weekend.  I recently took a position with Ben Pearson Archery as their Marketing and Media Director.  Basically it means I write some stories for them, assist in some social media advertising, and get the thrill of being associated with the oldest bow manufacturer in the U.S.  It also meant I would be abandoning the bow I have used for the last five years.  Short story here is I sold my old bow and ordered my new Ben Pearson bow.  The two week void between the new bow arrival and the sale of my old bow left me feeling as if I forgot to wear clothes.

Even worse, my new bow arrives within days of when I am to leave to Florida to shoot competition in an environment foreign to me.  How do I prepare for this?

I prepare the same as with anything.  I just have to be a lot more flexible in my preparation so I can expect whatever may happen.  In this case, it is like preparing for the hunt before you know what you will be hunting with.  I still scout, only this time by studying the animal targets that will be used.  I still study where I will be ‘hunting’, only this time by watching videos of last year’s competition at the same facility.

I stay focused, but ready for whatever may be encountered.  I just have to focus on a much larger picture with more variables rather than a singular task.

And as I prepare, and I now start setting up my equipment, I find that I have prepared myself to understand my equipment better.  I have the forethought to be ready quicker without taking shortcuts and jeopardizing the experience.  I have also found a lesson in preparation that will carry over to future quests.

The Western North Carolina Archery Circuit is composed of five clubs and will resume their competition February 9, 2013.  The schedule and locations can be seen at www.blueridgebowhunters.org.

The Central Carolina Archery Association consists of eight clubs and will begin their schedule on February 10, 2013.  They can be found at www.centralcarolinaarchery.com.

The Downeast Archery Coalition consists of five clubs and will begin their schedule on February 17, 2013.  They can be found at www.downeastarchery.homestead.com.

Each association is off this weekend for the Archery Shooters Association (ASA) Easton Pro/Am in Newberry, Florida.

Chasing Ghosts

I have been chasing a ghost for awhile now.  Well, let me clarify a little.  I have not actually been chasing a ghost, more like a deer that just will not show when I need him to.  And by awhile, I mean since the second weekend in September.  A pursuit this long usually ends with one party or the other finally making a mistake or giving up.

When the rut kicks in, the old wise alpha bucks tend to lose their sense of survival.  So after a little over two months of sitting in the stand, a hunter knows the mistake may finally happen.  I missed a weekend of hunting, and I was anxious to get back in the tree to see if my ghost, my opponent so to speak, would finally let down his defense and give me the opportunity I have been waiting for.

My ghost, he has not been invisible to me.  In fact, we have grown to know each other well over the last couple of months.  I patterned him early in the season.  My first day hunting had me realize he had outsmarted me.  I knew he would go through one area, only to have a gut instinct that something had changed.  Sure enough, I moved my stand that evening and the next day I spotted him.  I found out he would hit the area early.  Real early.  3:30am early.  He would stay until daylight.  But for me to get in the stand and have a shot at him in daylight, I would have to beat him to the area.  This meant I had to be there before 3:30am.

So, the chess game stepped up a notch.  I moved my pawn, he countered with a knight.  I attacked with my rook; he placed his bishop in a defensive position for protection.  In other words, I would get in the stand at 3am, and he would come in at 4:00am.  Only he would leave about 30 minutes before shooting time.

The full moon tested my patience.  His entries into the field gradually became later and I followed his lead and would get an extra 30 minutes of sleep.  But oh that full moon.  One morning I must have been in the stand for over an hour without even hearing an owl hoot.  The darkness can cause you to see things that aren’t there, and make you miss things that are.  It was approaching 5am and the clouds would occasionally open up just enough to make shadows move.  I knew nothing was below me, but I could see the light colored dirt in the field for 60 or 70 yards.  I would catch a shadow move in my peripheral vision and slowly turn my head and widen my eyes to gather all the light I could.  Then I would figure out the shadow I saw move was the same shadow that had been there for the last hour.

The full moon then blew through the cloud canopy.  Having grown accustomed to the low light, it seemed as though I was looking at the field in the middle of the day.  I spotted a large off-white object way out in the field, maybe 150 to 200 yards.  I wondered if it may be my ghost, but figured it had to be just some brush reflecting the moon beams.  I looked behind me and the tree I was in to see a raccoon waddling about 15 yards from me.  At first I could not make out whether it was a raccoon or an opossum, but as he neared I could make out the bands on his tail and his burglar’s mask over his eyes.  I watched in amusement and curiosity as he neared the corn pile, walking circles around it for about 30 seconds before leaving.

I remembered the brush and looked back in that direction…only to see it in a different location.  I was able to watch it walk across the field toward me.  I knew immediately this was my ghost.

Part of me grew excited for getting the chance to confront this adversary once again.  The other part of me knew it was much too early for this game to play out to my advantage, as he did not look like he was in the mood to visit for any amount of time.

He approached the feed pile.  I gazed at him trying to see if I could make out individual tines on his massive crown of bone.  I could not.  What I could make out though was whatever he was wearing was wide and tall.  It nearly glistened in the moonlight.  And his body…my, what a body.  It was huge.  I had seen several does from this stand over the hunting season, and this bruiser was definitely not one of those.  As I figured, he had no intention of hanging around.  In fact, he never lowered his head to the bait.  He just stood there, looking at the horizon (in my direction, although I was nearly 25 feet high).  He then turned and walked toward my left, then behind me, and finally to my right.  In other words, he came straight to me, circled my stand, and exited the field on the other side.

He won.  The pursuit would continue.

So this weekend I had another chance to go after him after a brief reprieve.  The stand was almost like a sabbatical from the daily grind of real life.  The cool wind offered freshness that my lungs and mind gripped wholeheartedly.  Then I heard a loud crash behind me.

I came home from the hunt, unlocked the door, and walked up to my wife.  “How’d it go?” asked Susan.

I paused, wanting the right words to come out.  I took a deep breath.  “Well, he came out.  I watched him for 30 minutes.   No further than 10 yards away.”  I could see Susan’s eyes widening.  “I waited for the shot to present itself, as he was behind a limb.  Finally, he stepped that one extra step I needed.  I slowly gripped the bow and hooked my release to the string.  I flexed my fingers on my bow hand, conscious of the fact a white knuckle grip would cause me to miss the shot.  I slowly drew the string.  The 70 pound pull was non-existent with the adrenaline flowing.  I held it back for what seemed an eternity, although it was roughly 30 to 45 seconds.  Then I let off the draw.  I eased it down.  I couldn’t take the shot.”

My daughter who was listening in held her mouth agape with the revelation of what I had just said.  My wife asked “Why?  Why didn’t you shoot?!?”

“Because, I was worried if I had shot that squirrel, the deer I was after would never come out.”

So, as for me and my ghost, we will continue to taunt each other during the season until one of us makes a mistake or gives up.

Quality Management Pays Off

Brian was in the stand early that Monday afternoon.  For the last hour, he watched as a small buck and doe grazed in the field in front of him.  They were skittish, seeming to understand something was not quite right.  However, the wind was to Brian’s favor and try as they might, Brian’s scent would not be found in their direction.

Then, in just a matter of moments, the field was populated with another four bucks and one more doe.  Brian sensed his target would be showing himself soon.  After all, Brian had the ‘big one’ on camera at consistent times since he began scouting several months earlier.  But the story does not end here, nor begin here.

Brian Rhew with his 146 7/8 in 192 lb Orange County giant.

Brian first learned how to hunt deer when he was 8 or 9 years old.  His uncle, Jesse Lennon, ran a household of 13.  Uncle Jesse taught Brian how to hunt.  Hunting was a necessity for the Bladen County family as a means of survival.  The deer meat provided many meals for a family of that size.

About fifteen years ago Brian took up bowhunting.  He appreciated the technique and it provided a way to hunt a longer season.  Just six years ago his mindset changed.

By providing for his own family, the deer meat was not as much of a priority in his hunting excursions.  He became much more serious about bowhunting and his chance to come closer to the game he was pursuing.  He also began managing his land and game to allow for a healthier, stronger, more mature herd.

His management paid off.

The opening weekend of bow season in 2010, just three years after he began his plan, Brian connected on a mainframe 9 point whitetail measuring 123 inches.  Pope and Young record book takes entries at 125 inches and larger net score.  Just a couple of inches kept Brian’s efforts from making book.  But all was not lost.  In fact, everything was working out perfectly.

Opening weekend of bow season in 2011, Brian was again in pursuit.  Proper scouting and management techniques once again paid off.  Brian connected on a 10 pointer.  This one measured 138 inches, easily making it one of the bigger deer taken in North Carolina during the year by bow, and making Pope and Young record book.

Now, here in 2012, Brian was waiting.  Brian supplemented his herd with a mineral site throughout the year.  In June, Brian began putting out corn to offer another food source and establish a routine for the deer that grazed on his land.  His trail cameras showed a buck developing a huge crown.  Brian recognized the deer.  It was a nice 8 pointer the previous year.  He passed on it when he took his record book buck.

So Brian waited in his lock-on stand, five bucks and 2 doe were near him.  He knew the big one should be showing up soon as he did each day on the camera photos.  He anticipated a splendid opening day just a couple of days earlier, to the extent of having a friend there to film the hunt.  Unfortunately, two different storms passed through the area late in the day.   When lightning started flashing, the linesman for Piedmont Electric realized it was time to go.  The buck would have to wait for another day, but he would not wait for long.  This would be the day.

The monster stepped out and moved to the corn.  Brian drew his Mathews Z7 Extreme bow armed with a Rage 2 blade 100 grain mechanical broadhead at 5:12pm Monday, September 10th.  Just twenty one yards separated Brian from the trophy he had watched for over two years.  At over 300 feet per second, the twenty one yards was traversed quickly by the arrow as it hit its mark.

Brian Rhew paid tribute to the 192 pound Orange County buck shortly afterwards.  The mainframe 9 pointer with 3 sticker points measured 146 7/8 inches green (green means the score is not official yet as the rack is required to dry for 60 days before an official measurement can be taken).  Now Brian had a once-a-lifetime trophy and a freezer full of venison.  Uncle Jesse would have been proud.

Summer Sausage

August 1^st marked the opening of night hunting for feral hogs in North Carolina.  Many in North Carolina have never run across a feral hog.  Hogs are smart compared to other animals, they are observant, and when cornered, they fight.

Just a few years ago I was trying to set up a dog hunt for wild boar in the mountains near the Tennessee state line.  After talking to several hunting clubs, guides, and groups, most said they would not go after hogs on purpose.  Finally, one person who lived in Tennessee but had a guide license in North Carolina agreed to take me.  I asked him why so many people were skittish about sending their canines after a pig and what he responded with was enlightening.

“The hogs can’t climb trees like bear.  They turn and fight.”  They are just too dangerous was how the response was parlayed to me.  I asked him why he agreed and he told me that it pays well when taking someone out, and he was accustomed to providing care to his dogs.  Care was later explained to me from a brief encounter his dogs had the year before.  After striking a track, the dogs surrounded a 450 pound hog.  The hog proceeded to gut each and every dog in the pack.  The tusks tore through the flesh and left them the on the ground for dead.  He quickly got back to his truck and grabbed a first aid kit.  He then would push the insides back in and sew the bellies back up.  The hog got away.

I ended up not being able to make the hunt do to some circumstances with the gentleman’s personal life.  But I still longed to experience a hog hunt.

Last weekend I was invited to hunt a cypress swamp near South Carolina for feral hogs.  I did not have much notice, but I did not need much either.  This would be a hog hunt with the bow from stands.  I wondered just how many I would see.

I arrived at the camp site just after 5:30pm.  Feeders were set up in multiple locations to go off at 7:00pm.  This land is a deer hunting club once gun season comes in, and the owners wanted the hogs gone.  According to my host, the hogs would eat all the corn and leave nothing for the deer.

The night before I shot a few arrows to check my sight and make sure I was comfortable.  I own a wild boar 3d archer target, so I visualized the ‘kill’ zone and started at 40 yards.  I was told the average shot would run around 15 yards.  After shooting 40 and feeling good, I moved up to 30 yards, then 20 yards.  It was a good practice session and I felt good about the vital area.  I also taped a small picture that showed where the vitals were on a hog to the lower limb of my bow.  This was primarily to remind me that the vitals sit differently in a hog than a deer.

My host shot several arrows while I changed to my camo.  Then around 6:00pm we headed out.  It was hot and muggy with the temps in the mid 90’s.  I was worried about scent control as I knew pigs had a superior sense of smell.  I was given a bag that had some hog attractant to lie at my feet in the stand to use as a cover scent.  I was also told the main scent I had to worry about was my boots.  I was wearing rubber boots, known to not carry odors.  But for pigs, they can even pick those out.

The feeder went off at 7:00 pm and I remained alert.  After another 30 minutes, I noticed something to my left in the wood line.  It was brown and pulsating.  After studying it for a few seconds I could tell it was a hog.  The pulsating was the hog taking deep sniffs of the ground where I had come into the stand.  Three more followed him and they were overly cautious.  As they approached the clearing where the feeder was they turned away.

They continued around the clearing and I could finally see their full bodies about 25 yards away.  A larger black boar was closest and leading the group.  The brown one, slightly smaller, stayed to its left and would step forward in stride with the black one.  I continued to study their movement.  The way they were moving side by side, I would not have a clean shot if the arrow were to make a pass-thru.

So, what if I made the shot where the pass-thru, if there was one, would hit both in the vitals.  It could be done.   The closer hog was slightly taller.  I would need to aim at the top portion of the lungs on the black one, and then if the arrow passed through then it should hit the brown pig near the lower lungs and heart.

The opportunity presented itself.

I released the arrow with its fixed blade broadhead.   I watched it fly as the fletching stopped short in the front hog.  The whole group took off, much faster than you would expect from a robust round animal with short legs.  I texted that one was down even though I was trying for the double shot.

After sitting for another 30 minutes I headed down the stand and to where I shot the pig.  I followed a nice blood trail for about 10 yards and then it split.  Two different directions.  Hmmm.  I followed the one on the left first.  Another 10 yards and I found the brown one on the ground, heart exploded.  He was the back pig.  I had hit both.

I backtracked and followed the other trail.  15 yards away in a briar thick lay the black one.  Blood bubbled around the location where the top of the lungs would be located.

I had taken a double with one arrow on my first hog hunt.

We went on to hunt the remainder of the weekend.  I easily saw pigs out number deer 5 to 1.  The land was infested with them.  And up to this point I had never seen a wild hog.  But I have seen summer sausage.

Outdoors and the 'New Media'

Social media, new media, what is it anyway?  Why is it even being discussed in an outdoors column?

The reality is our world has changed and continues to progress.  It is much smaller than it was just a decade ago.  At one time, places like Africa, Alaska, and Australia were distant lands that you could only find in either an encyclopedia or National Geographic magazine.  Now, we can call up a ‘friend’, watch them in real time and speak to them through the computer.  Now we have ‘wiki’ instead of actual volumes of books.  And National Geographic is much more than a magazine; it is a television network and website.  I’m sure the younger generation is oblivious to who is a ‘pen-pal’, my generation’s original ‘friend request.’

The new media consist of online television shows and episodes, e-magazines, and podcasts.  My podcasts consisted of taping a one way conversation on an old cassette recorder and mailing it to a friend who moved several states away one summer.  Can you imagine if this was our way of communicating now?  Fortunately the new media is easy and available.  As for the outdoors community, this opens the world to us all.

We are able to learn from others in ways as never before.  My grandfather was a hit with my friends with his stories of big game hunts from around the world.  There were not many people you could meet and talk to who had ever taken any game other than dove, ducks, deer, squirrels, or rabbits.  Everything else was exotic; things you only saw in the zoo or again, the encyclopedia and magazines.  Now we can not only reach out and hear the stories from all kinds of hunters, anglers, mountain climbers, hikers, kayakers, and bird watchers, we can interact and learn.

We can get answers to our questions, hear others questions that we would have never thought to have asked, and participate without having to be the 10th caller.  Online no-frills talk shows bring in educated and experienced guests to share knowledge to others and help the non-experienced prepare for their own outdoors adventures.

The new media has become such a hit and shows so much potential in growth, companies are investing largely into it to better their brands.  Podcasts like FMP Bowcast garner a large audience and multiple advertisers just so someone can download the audio to their media player.  The Outdoors Channel has acquired MyOutdoorTV.com that is set-up somewhat like Netflix while only showing outdoor shows.  Just a quick count on the hunting directory produces over 100 high definition shows both popular such as North American Hunter and Remington Country and regional like Southern Ohio Wild.

This Monday, July 2nd, I will be a guest on Coast to Coast Outdoors.  This is one of those new media talk shows that share what is going on with all things outdoors with everyone.  They have talked about things such as the Alabama Rig and its influence on both the professional anglers’ tours and the regular weekend fisherman searching for his own trophy bass.  They have discussed the problem with feral hogs, not just in a single state, but everywhere from North Carolina to California.  In fact, the two hosts are in each state.  R.B. Wright hosts the show from the ‘Ole North State while Kerry Mackey hosts from the left coast.  At the same time.  That is the beauty of the new media.

The show is hunting and fishing show that is not really hunting and fishing show.  You will likely not see the trigger pulled, the bass bend the rod, or the arrow flung, but you will see R.B. and Kerry talking to you, almost face to face like, discussing hunting and fishing.  It makes it personal and enjoyable.  So if you have a few moments this Monday at 9pm go to Livestream.com/Coast2CoastOutdoors and get a glimpse of what the new media has to offer the outdoorsman.  One other nice aspect about this new media is even if you cannot watch it live, most shows are available when you want it available without having to set the VCR, DVR, or whatever other ‘R’ there is.

But one last observation; Pen-pal does have a better ring to it than E-mail-pal.  We’ll have to work on that one.

You can follow Coast2Coast Outdoors on twitter @C2COutdoors or on facebook at Coast2Coast Outdoors.

Turkey Success

Last year, Seth was on his way to winning a North Carolina state championship in lacrosse with Northwest Guilford High School.  Seth is just like any other high school teenage boy.   School, sports, work and girls occupy his time.  This year, Seth detoured from his routine.  Prior to the lacrosse season, he injured his leg.  Sports would take a back seat.  When one door shuts, another opens.

Seth’s family has loved the outdoors and hunting; particularly bowhunting.  Seth’s father David works with Gander Mountain.  Seth and his brothers have taken swans with the bow and bowfish regularly.  With the injury and the extra time Seth normally does not have, he figured this may be the year to hit the field during turkey season for a change.

Seth’s younger brother Matthew would get the first opportunity at a turkey this season.  Matthew is under 16 years old, allowing him to hunt during the youth only day.  Matthew had an exciting day, getting a tom to come in close for a shot.  Matthew used a guillotine broadhead.  The guillotine is specifically designed with four long blades used to cut the turkey’s neck.  Unfortunately, Matthew connected on the tom’s chest, and the arrow simply bounced off.

On the regular opening day of turkey season, Seth would get a late start.  The hunt was more of a spur of the moment decision.  Seth and his girlfriend Brittany would head to one blind and set up, while his father and brother Austin would set up in another.  He quickly placed the decoy his father had made and waited in the blind.

About an hour had passed as Seth and Brittany were playing games on the cell phones.  There was no action in the field.  It was getting late and boredom was setting in.  Out of the corner of Seth’s vision, he spotted some movement.  A strutting tom!

Brittany was beside herself.  She had never been close to a live wild turkey.  The noises were unique and strange.  The tom thumped, gobbled and flared his tail feathers.  He was not real happy to see the strange bird occupying his territory.  Seth too was overcome with excitement.  He quickly grabbed his Matthews Monster with 64 pounds of draw weight.  He was not using a guillotine like his brother.  He was using a Rage 3 blade expandable broadhead.  This is designed to fly true and open the blades upon impact with the target.

Seth drew back the arrow and released.  The bird jumped.  It was a clean miss.  Seth could not even recall whether he aimed at the bird.

Fortune was with Seth.  The gobbler just grew angrier and flared his tail once again.  It approached the decoy once more, this time attacking it without abandon.  Seth reached for another arrow to nock.  The dominant tom began ripping feathers from the decoy.  Seth’s mind raced with emotion, thoughts and concerns.  First, if he did not shoot this turkey quickly, his father was going to be furious.  The spurs were shredding the decoy.  Again, this decoy was made, not bought.

Second, this was his chance.  The bird did not scare off.  It was only 10 yards away.  This would be his first big game animal taken with the bow.  His girlfriend was beside him witnessing the hunt; experiencing the hunt.  The defining moment was now.

Lastly, he had to calm himself down.  Adrenaline could do strange things.  Accustomed to pressure from sports, including the pressure associated with winning a state championship, Seth’s adrenaline allowed him to think quickly and maintain control.  He took a deep breath.  He visualized the vital area available at the angle the gobbler was situated.  Then he released his second arrow.

The bird dropped.  No flutter.  It just dropped.  Seth started out of the blind.  The bird jumped, running…no staggering sideways.  The tom toppled over.  Its wings flapped as it tumbled.  Seth was not going to let the bird get away and then…

It fell one more time.  It was down for good.  Brittany had tears in her eyes.  Not from the death, but from the sheer excitement and emotion involved.  Seth assessed the situation.  It was over.  He had taken his first turkey.  He took it with a bow, with someone he cares about experiencing it with him.  He missed his senior year of lacrosse, but he made memories anyway.

The tom measured 7/8in spurs, 10 ½in beard and weighed 21 pounds.

Turkey Hunting - Part 2

The turkey-less hunter had his share of troubles early in the morning of opening weekend.  Last week started the story of how I had birds show up to stop just short of range.  Then, after calling, the birds made one more approach, turning from 100 yards out to get within range.  At the moment of truth, the birds took to the air and the bewildered hunter sat there with bow drawn for only a couple of seconds before the reason was revealed.  A black bear just a couple of dozen yards away stepped out of the woods where the gobblers had been.

Most days this would have been enough excitement.  But remembering past hunts for this elusive bearded bird, I was determined to stay patient and hope for the best.  The clock continued to tick as the mosquitoes tested my will power.  As the sun rose in the sky, the temperature also increased.  Little breeze was available and the blind coupled with the long sleeved shirt and long pants caused the sweat to start pouring.  Luckily turkeys cannot smell.  If they could, they would be impossible to kill.  Their eyesight is keen and their hearing is more than adequate.  But I would not have to worry able scent control on this day.

The rest of the morning allowed me the opportunity to spot a couple more black bears.  These were much further away than the first.  I have hunted this area before for bear, and I marked the spot on the gps application on my cell phone.

About mid-morning, the next big surprise occurred.  I was somewhat relaxing as nothing was going on nearby.  Virtual silence made for a peaceful time period, and if this would have continued much longer, I am sure a nap would have ensued.  I sensed something to my right, but never saw anything.  I would take an occasional glance down the lane but nothing appeared.  After several minutes I nearly jumped out of my seat.  In my peripheral vision a small black object had made its way into the blind.  Though it startled me, I did not make much movement or noise.  It flared a couple of times and pulled back out of the window.  Then, stepping forward, a small buck whitetail stepped in front of the window and stretched his neck downward and to the side to see what he smelled.  Yes, I had a deer within 3 feet of me sniffing in the window of my blind.  Once he saw me in the blind, he jumped away into the woods.  This was enough to wake me up for the rest of the day.

Shortly after noon, a couple of toms worked their way into the lane in front of me.  They were several hundred yards away, but there was promise.  After coming down the lane about 50 yards or so, they walked off to the right into the high grass and woods.  I clucked a few times with the call and waited.  They exited the grass and looked my way.  They continued toward me in a steady and brisk walk.  My heartbeat sped up once again.  Even though a bear ruined the first real chance of the day, this would be a great opportunity.  There was nothing slowing the gobblers down.

Then, when 25 yards away, the birds stopped.  They were nervous about something.  I glanced toward my left and saw nothing.   I checked behind me to see if something appeared in the lane there.  Again, nothing.  I looked to my right.  There it was. 

As soon as I saw it, the birds ran in full stride back down the path from where they had come.  I took turns looking at them and back to my right.  It took cover in the high grass beside the path.  I could see its shoulders and muscular build as it slowly crept through the grass my way.  Every once and a while, I would lose sight, but the grass folding out of the way indicated its position.

About 15 yards out it stepped back out of the grass.  It was confused.  A bobcat had caught sight of my decoys and had started it sneak and pounce tactic.  But once it was close enough, it realized that even though they looked like turkeys, they did not quite behave like turkeys.  Something was definitely amiss.  The bobcat turned and walked down the middle of the path away from the blind.  It continued to turn and look at the decoys over his shoulder.  I could only imagine what he was thinking.

He had no idea what I was thinking.  On one hand there was excitement as I was witnessing nature in its truest form.  Predator coming upon prey.  The other part of me was again disappointed, as nature had pulled together two predators, human and bobcat, thus allowing the real prey to dart away.

I sat there, reviewing video of the bear, turkeys, bobcat, and deer.  At least I had a story to tell.  Then I noticed two small black objects nearly 500 yards away.  I pulled out my monocular scope.  Both were toms.  Nice ones, as I could see their beards dragging the ground.  I clucked.  I clucked again.  They started my way.  Three more turkeys flew down from the left of the path just behind the two toms.  Now there were five.  This could be beneficial or a detriment.  One outlook is there were five opportunities.  The other outlook is there were now five sets of eyes and ears.

I worked the birds for two hours, alternating between a gobbler call and a hen cluck.  At one point a gust of wind blew down a hen decoy and I snuck out the bottom of the blind.  The birds were still far away, so I felt like I could put it back up.  Crawling on my belly, I was successful.  The birds stopped about 30 yards away as one of the big toms walked into the high grass to the right.  There was a dip in the earth there, and I prepared myself to ‘see the head of the gobbler come over the ridge’ just in front of me.  One of the smaller birds, walked off to the left into the woods.  All were picking and pecking.  The big tom came back up to the path, but about 15 yards further away than where he went in.  He had turned.  This was not good.

I was not in a position to call any longer as the birds were too close.  But, they were still too far for a bow shot, and the one big tom had all of them nervous.  I had positioned myself when the birds began getting close in the most comfortable shooting position I could attain.  But this position had lasted for over 30 minutes, and I was beginning to feel the fatigue on my back and legs.  The stance was similar to the catching position of baseball great Benito Santiago.  My left leg was outstretched to my left, my right leg bent.  I did not know how much longer I could go like this.

At one point, I drew back an arrow.  The thought was there, but the shot was not.  I could not take the shot at the small kill zone from so far away and feel good about it.  It just was not meant to be.  Patience, maybe they will again come closer.

It did not happen.  The birds actually split up with the two big toms exiting into the woods to the right about 50 yards away.  The three smaller ones entered the tree line just 30 yards away to my left.  I waited for a bit to see if they may come out on the path to the left, but they never did.

In the end, the rule of three came into play.  Bear, bobcat, and time were my undoing.  Then again, they also made the hunt that much more memorable.   An appreciation washed over me on the drive home that evening.  I had witnessed some great things on this day, and had successfully put myself in position several times to take my first turkey.  And though I did not have the feathers in hand, I did have video and this story to share.  After all, it is called hunting and not killing.

Turkey Hunting - Part 1



My hand and Chuck Norris' hand.

It is called hunting and not killing for a reason.  Chuck Norris may go killing, but the only thing I have in common with Chuck is our hand size.  Hunting has a number of variables that you may never think will come into play.  Through scouting, patterning, and general species education and knowledge, you can put yourself in the best situation, but one moment of something completely unexpected can alter the outcome completely.



For the last few years I have sought the elusive Eastern Wild Turkey with the bow.  Up until last year, I had been the general proximity of a tom, but not nearly close enough to take one.  Then last year, I learned a valuable lesson while hunting the bearded bird.  Patience is a virtue.  If you have read my columns in the past, you may remember the story of my lack of patience causing me to miss getting a shot at turkeys on three different occasions.  I was determined it would not happen that way this year.

I usually miss opening weekend of turkey season.  My wife and my daughter celebrate their birthday that same weekend, so I usually will schedule a hunt the next weekend.  Of course, the birds a little more seasoned by that time, as they have dodged shotgun blasts and arrows for a week up to that point.  This season, my female family members headed to the coast leaving me to watch the boys.  It also gave me a chance to go out on a Sunday bowhunt.  Not opening day, but close enough.

Now the story that follows may at times seem far-fetched.  Much like the old fisherman that swears he had a 10 pound bass hooked until he tried to pull it in the boat, the story could easily qualify as an exaggeration, if it were not completely true.  By the way, when you hear the fish tale, the question is always asked “how do you know it was 10 pounds?”  The response is always the same…"Cause it has scales!"

The hunt began as planned.  I re-fletched some arrows earlier in the week and practiced with them through the week.  Groups were tight for 40 yards in my practice sessions, even after doing some long hikes before the sessions.  From distances of 50 to 70 yards, groups were not as tight, but were falling in a 6 inch circle steadily.  This is great for elk hunting, but I would never take that shot at the minute vitals of a turkey.  A turkey has two kill spots with a bow.  The first is the heart / lung shot.  The second is the neck.  The neck shot is usually done with a broadhead called a Guillotine.  The Guillotine is designed with extra long blades made for cutting the neck.  The heart / lung shot is performed with a regular broadhead used for any big game hunting.  I was using a regular broadhead.

Saturday I put my gear together, checking everything to make sure it was ready.  I cleaned my decoys consisting of two hens and a jake (a young male).  I made sure I had extras of my vital gear such as arrows, broadheads, bow release, and batteries.  I charged my cell phone and my two cameras I was carrying with me.  I sprayed my hunting clothes with permethrin to barricade my body from ticks, chiggers, and other insects.  I made a packed breakfast and lunch.  I would be there for the duration for this hunt.

Sunday morning I was on the road at 3:30am.  The hunting destination was several hours away and I wanted to be there before sun-up.   I met the land owner at the gate.  We drove about one mile into the area and he unlocked a second gate.  The path was well worn with numerous mud holes and wallows.  About 500 yards in was a box deer blind at a path crossroad.  He advised me to set up with the box blind to my back.  He had seen the turkeys use the crossroad in their routes from their roost to the fields.  He also informed me of a small path about 200 yards away from the blind where I could park the truck after dropping off my gear.  Both were good information.

After dropping everything at the blind and parking, I set up the 3 decoys.  I tried to set them up so 2 would be seen from each of the paths at all times.  The decoys were all set between 10 and 15 yards from my Ameristep Doghouse blind I had positioned next to the tower box blind.

Just after sitting, I hit the mouth call with two series of clucks.  I listened and watched.  No gobbles anywhere.  I glanced behind me down the path and watched a large tom flew down from his roost on the left to the path about 150 yards away.  This was going to be a good hunt!

Not 30 seconds later, a small jake joined in behind the big gobbler.  Both were making a steady walk my way.  They were not running, but they were keeping pace.  Two hens then exited the woods from the right about 30 yards behind them.  My first thought was the hens would likely turn my birds around.  Fortunately they did not.  I kept quiet and patient.  I would have a shot soon enough.

My blind was positioned where I could shoot to my left, front and right.  My rear had a sight window but would not offer a shot due to the box blind.  After videoing the birds, I set my chair to the right rear corner of the blind.  I moved into position on the right front corner allowing me to draw my bow and take an angled shot through the window opening as the bird came into range.  I counted the pace of the big gobbler, and so I figured he would be near the window around the count of 15.  I drew the bow at 10.  He never appeared.  I let off the bow and checked his location.  He had turned and headed back down the path.  After he and the group were about 100 yards away, I proceeded to hit the call once more.  They turned, and began their second approach.  This time, they turned about 20 yards behind me into the woods to the left.  I was not worried.

I figured with the turn they would likely come out to the right side of the blind.  I backed against the left wall and waited.  After about a minute the big one showed himself.  I took a deep breath, released about half the air, and drew back the 70 pounds of death.  Then they flew.  In an instant it was over.  The birds were gone.  In a millisecond I had several thoughts run through my mind.  Did they spot me?  Did they hear me?  What could have spooked th…e…m…

5 yards from where they were standing a large black bear made his way out of the woods.   This was only 20 yards from me.  I never thought about any danger from a bear / human episode.  All I thought about was this bear just blew my best chance I have ever had at a turkey with the bow.

It was ok though.  I had just witnessed 4 turkeys and a black bear in the first 10 minutes of a hunt.  There is nothing like nature.  This hunt was far from over!  And next week, we will cover the rest…