Tomorrow is Saturday, May 18, and it looks like it just might be the last day for turkey hunting for me.  For sure it is the last one available for Conner and I sure hope we can convince those birds to come in front of his gun.

The weather is calling for colder (50’s) temps and a 60% chance of rain…hmmmm.  I looked on the web and every die hard turkey hunter says hunting in the rain is good.  Are they nuts?

Here are a few of the things they are saying:

Most of the other hunters don’t hunt in the rain.

(Well Heck yes!  It’s cold and wet!  Why on earth get out there and sit in the rain?  We all know the birds are going to be held up in the thickest stuff there is and be out of the rain themeselves, they aren’t dumbies!)

Turkeys have to eat.

(Yes we all know that!  And they do it in the comfort of a dense cover of tree branches and leaves.)

Turkeys stay out in the open during a rain storm.

(WHAT?! No they don’t, they hide in the thickets like the other birds and only come out to get wet enough to rinse off the dust.)

Turkeys stay out in the open during a rain storm because they can see anything that is coming to get them.  They can’t hear the predator coming with all the rain hitting the leaves etc.

(Hmmm.  Maybe that’s why I’m a novice turkey hunter and not a turkey killer.)

So tomorrow, when you get out of your soft and warm bed and pour a cup of coffee and look out the window at the rain falling, just think of the three of us, Weasel, Conner and me, sitting there with cold rain dripping off the bills of our hats, trying to stay perfectly still while the icey rain, that has soaked us to the bone, continues its attack on us.  Yes, we are turkey hunters trying to learn just what it takes to bag one of these crafty critters.

I sure hope to have pictures of Conner with a big old gobbler in front of him when it’s all done.  It sure will be a reward after all of this.  A mile hike at 4:30 in the morning with nothing but a flashlight to guide the way.  Sliding down the steep clay banks and slick grass of the Springs growth and nestling into the make shift blind before daylight.  Hoping that the seat under our butts is not nestled into a red ant hill, or that a slick backed olive colored snake isn’t curled next to our necks getting warmed by the heat coming out of the top of our wet coats.

There will be a follow up to this.  Check back later on…if I survive I’ll post up the results of todays hunt.  Just go on past the “Bears Butt May 17, 2013” stuff and there you will have it.

Bears Butt

May 17, 2013

The continued story:

The day began as planned and of course the weather people were right on the money with their forecast.  Rain, and lots of it greeted us from the driveway all the way to the parking spot at the hunt site.  It continued through our hike and to our blinds.  And then it let up just enough that we could see through the drips coming off the ends of our hat bills.  Once it was satisfied we knew where we were, it decided to rain.

If I have learned one thing about turkey hunting it’s this:  Never expect the expected.  You can quote me on that one!  Some people say to never say never, but in this case it is perfectly acceptable and quite well deserving to use it…NEVER EXPECT THE EXPECTED while turkey hunting.  It will only dash your dreams.

Sitting in my perfect blind as the morning light became brighter and brighter through the fog and rain, I felt a slight tickle as some water rolled down the calf of my right leg.  I knew from the tickle that the water was going to end up in my shoe, but did I move?  Not a bit, what if a gobbler showed up right now and busted me for moving my leg so that that one drop of water didn’t end up in my shoe…I’m hunting for heck sake.  Don’t move…that is the order of the day.

Soon the tickle stopped and I knew that my pant leg was totally soaked and the water was just running down the back of my calf and into my shoe.  It’s alright I said to myself, it’s alright.

I wish I had worn some rain pants under my camo covers, then the rain would be running somewhere else, but nope, I didn’t think to bring them.  Oh yes, I wore my rain jacket and it’s under my camo coat and so my upper body is fine and dry…well almost…there is the matter of the soaking hat and the water trickling down the back of my neck, but that shouldn’t amount to much, the surface area of my hat can’t draw that much attention from the rain.

And the morning begins to really show itself off and now some birds are beginning to make some noise.  Nothing like the other day, but some bird chirping none the less.  It does seem odd that the birds are a bit late to start making noises.  Maybe the rain kept them awake a bit longer than usual last night.  I’m straining to hear gobbles, near or far and I think I heard a fly down, but not real sure.  Across the valley a truck pulls up behind mine and turns off the lights.  Then I hear him give out a crow call to try and wake a gobbler up.  He does it again…no gobbles.  Then back into his truck and down the road he goes.  My guess is he has done his turkey deed for the day, just like he told his wife he would and now him and his buddy are headed for the cafe for some hot coffee and breakfast…probably ham, hashbrowns, two eggs over medium, wheat toast with grape jelly, and of course hot, very hot coffee…..ooooo that stream is cool running down the back of my leg right now.

Was that a fly down I just heard?  Why my leg is jumping and my wet pant leg is flapping against itself…that is what I heard.  I’ve got to straighten this leg out and I hope there isn’t a gobbler anywhere close or I’m busted.  WOW!  Blood is sure warm when it’s allowed to circulate…ouch, that almost hurts.  I wonder if I can get away with moving my left leg….easy does it…oooooo, holy heck I had no idea that leg was so wet and cold.  Sure could use a big old plastic bag about now.  I could drape it across my legs and keep all the water off my pants.  Hey that’s a cool sight…look at the water running out the back of my boot…hahaha…whoeee my feet sure are cold.  I’ll bet those two guys in the restaurant are warm and cozy.

Where are those dirty birds?  Haven’t heard a sound from them.  Nobody has been hunting in here since Weasel and I were here a few days ago.  Those birds haven’t been pressured at all.  They should be sitting in those trees right over there and by now they should be all around us.  But NO…just rain…It is sort of cool sitting here freezing and waiting for a turkey to come popping by.  I wonder if Conner is about to go bonkers sitting up there in his blind.  I’ll radio up and find out.  Oh ya, Brandon can hear me, but can’t transmit for some reason.

In my best whisper voice….Hey, I’m soaked to the bone, if you guys are ready to go I sure am.  And looking up toward their blind I expect to see them both jump up and get ready to head off the mountain…but not a stir…are they asleep?  Have they perished from hypothermia?

Suddenly I see a hunter walking the grassy road down below us…I radio to the Weasel…Hey, there is a hunter walking the grassy road, let’s sit tight for awhile, maybe he will spook something up to us.

And we wait for what seems like another half hour.  My butt is frozen, my feet are frozen, my hands are frozen, my frozen is frozen and has freezer burn on it.  I pull my legs under me as best as I can.  Set the gun against the bush and slowly push myself up like a big old cow…there I stand…blood suddenly finding its way toward my feet…my feet are telling me they are still alive, my legs are soaking wet and heavy with clothes.  I look around for what I know will be a peering red head looking over a bush…I glance all around and see nothing of the sort…just wet grass getting wetter…I pick up my shotgun and slowly begin my assent towards Weasel and Conner.  By the time I get there my legs are thoroughly warmed by the climb and beginning to send signals to my brain to begin cramping without warning.  To say I’m cold is an understatement.  Are you ready to go?  And up they jumped as if they were sitting in a red ant bed…of course they are ready to go…they were ready to go when we got there…at least that is what I read in their eyes at that moment.

Back at the truck in record time…we walked up that hill, down the other side, and up another steep slippery and sloppy one with only taking two breaks.  What time is it?  7:30!  Crap, we should still be hunting.

Bears Butt

May 18, 2013