About hunt number 11 last year Weasel was able to connect with a nice gobbler.  Today marks our hunt number 10 for this year.  It’s 2:55 a.m. right now and a light rain is falling outside.  My enthusiasm for venturing out into that rain is not on a very high scale….BUT….we are going.

I’ve been wet so much this hunting season it’s not funny.  My leather boots tell me I might want to look into some rubber hiking boots for the future.  I’m sure that with the weather they have in Alaska and the Yukon, there are such boots available.  Continental drift has our weather pattern changing (my opinion) as we drift more NW’erly and in 1,000 to 10,000 years our weather will be nearly identical to that found in Anchorage.  I’m sure someone will discover a material to make hiking boots from that can handle every climate type from extremely dry and hot to ankle deep standing water.  I could use a pair of those right now.

On the bright side of todays hunt, the weather forecast says:  90% chance of rain until 6 a.m., reducing to 10% for the remaining portion of the day.  Looking outside right now (letting the dog out), it’s 100% chance with no change in cloud cover from here to forever.  I’m a little bit sick of rain right now.

So, what do turkeys do when it rains for 40 days and 40 nights?  Well, two of them have high hopes of being the ones chosen to get on the boat, but the rest of them must do something to keep fed and sleep at night.  Weasel and I have a plan.  We always have a plan.  Set up in our usual spot and wait…typical….but the difference is not taking off our back packs and being ready to sprint to cut off the birds once they begin their morning gobble.  What if they don’t gobble while on the roost?  I guess we sit tight and hope the rain stops soon.  Just like last time, no decoys, no calling (and a very high hope that “Jerry’s friend doesn’t come back”).

We have had as many as 13 bearded bad boys around us in this area we hunt and there is no reason we couldn’t have that happen again today.  The one thing I have learned in my lifetime is this:  You can’t get them by staying in bed and even though that sounds like a wonderful place to be right now, I’m pouring myself a cup of coffee and making up a sandwich.  It’s time to head off into the woods once again…Hell or high water!

I’ll post up the outcome later on!  Stand by.

Bears Butt

May 20, 2015

UPDATE:

Weasel and I arrived at the usual time…O-DARK-THIRTY…perfect for a morning stroll into the woods.  The clouds were hanging around and it had been raining but it had stopped.  The walk in left me with soaking wet feet.  My “spray on” water repellent does not work…see previous post for “Not Bears Butt Approved” spray on repellent….As I settled into my blind for the wait for daylight the clouds built up quickly.  By first light and nearly fly down time, rain was falling…Did I say I was getting wet?  I did have on my rain pants and jacket under my camo outer clothes and so I knew I would not get wet from the rain, maybe from sweating inside the plastic stuff, but not from the rain.  What I didn’t know was the right pant leg of the rain pants was pulled up and the water that was running down the leg was pouring into the boot.

About 8 a.m. the rain was coming down so hard I decided to go and join Weasel in his nice heated tent.  Well, it’s not heated, but it was pretty dry compared to my little hide out.  The birds were all quiet and I’m sure they are hating the rain right now too, just like us humans.  Short prayer:  Please God, Give us a break from this and let some sun shine on us for awhile!

Well, the rain didn’t last too long and sitting in the blind made my knees hurt really bad and so when the weather broke I ventured back into my hidey-hole.

Not long after that, Weasel texted me that there were gobblers up on the hillside above him.  I texted back that I would go up the trail and try to get on the hillside above the birds and wait for them to come to me.  They have travelled that trail before and I wanted to be there waiting in ambush.  I went slowly and with purpose.  The mud is soooo slick on this hillside you really have to watch every step and with mud building up on the souls of the boots it doesn’t take much to slide down after painstakingly making a few feet of progress.  I was doing quite well and as my view above the trees between me and where the gobblers were got better and as I neared my hiding spot, I looked across the draw (100 yards or so), there on the hill opposite me were 4 gobblers, their necks stretched toward the sky, watching my every move with total concentration….BUSTED!

One of them began to put and all of them walked back over the hill from where they had come.  I texted Weasel that I had been busted and that I would try to cut them off on the backside of the mountain and then I headed off to do the task at hand.  The nearly straight up hill and slippery mud was my punishment for attempting to cut off the birds.  I would have been better off staying in my blind down below and taking my chances on them coming past it….but NOOOOO….and so up I went with my one boot 1/2 full of water.

Over the top and partway down the other side and then I skirted around toward where the birds had gone….there they are!  Down on a sage brush flat and they are working their way around the hill toward Weasel…perfect!  I texted him what I was seeing and then I waited a few minutes until the birds were out of my sight.  I dropped down the hill about 2/3 of the way so I would be on the same line as the birds walking towards Weasel.  I kept expecting to hear him shoot.  I could happen any moment.  I slowly walked around the hill, through the oaks and deer were busting out all around me.  It took about 2 hours for me to cover the hill and arrive back at Weasel in the blind.  Nothing had come his way.  And then we heard the distinct gobble of a bird back up on the hill above us!  They had obviously gone from the sage flat, around the point of the mountain and then straight back up the hill to the point Weasel had seen them earlier.  I see now how they got the name “turkeys”.

With the gobbling going on, I could not venture being seen as I made my way to my hidey-hole and so I went through the trees to cover the other side of a wash nearby.  I sat there until we hadn’t heard a gobble for over an hour and then made my way back to my hidey-hole blind.  We stayed until 3 p.m. and then called it a day.  Nothing came our way and we only heard one gobble between about noon and 2 p.m.  We had high hopes but it just wasn’t meant to be.  So, Weasel went to retrieve his card from this trail camera and I waited by his pack.  As I stood there waiting I looked up on the hill above us and there with stretched out neck, looking down on us was Mr. Gobbler himself!  9 inch beard waving in the breeze….THAT SON OF A B*@C#%….and he gobbled as we hiked out of sight!  Icing on the cake for him, poop on our ears for us!

Bears Butt