Saturday April 22, 2006

I joined Larry and Jason this morning out at Cedar Run 9 (a property the company we work for owns and has a wetland on). It was 55 degrees and clear. It had rained all night and it was predicted to rain all day. We arrived with plenty of time and made the walk to the back corner where Larry called in his bird the other day. We waited 'til well after light and didn't hear a thing. We worked the property around to the end of the stream buffer behind the duck blind. Since we didn't hear anything we headed down the road to Cedar Run 6 (another company wetland on private land). We started in the woods almost directly behind our duck blind we built this summer and as we got close to the field, everyone froze. There was a gobbler about 60yds away in the field, directly in front of us. Jason was leading and when he gave the word, we all sat in a hurry. As I sat, I heard the heart-wrenching sound of a turkey putting. He didn't leave though. He walked out of site and we got up and made a mad dash back to where we came from and tried to swing around and get ahead of him. We got to the NW corner of the field and set up a deke. Larry sat in a blowdown, with Beeler about 20yds in front of him. I was on the other side of the mill race that runs through the woods, about even with Beeler. I was watching Beeler's breathing, and waiting for the increase in compressions followed by a bang. All of a sudden Beeler whispered, "he's right there in the woods, past you" I couldn't see him because he was behind a large fallen log. He was putting the sneak on us. A few minutes later Larry whispered that the bird was strutting in the field behind us. I gathered Jason and we began to sneak up the mill race to try and get even with the bird, so that we could sneak into position for a shot when he was strutting away from us. Problem was, every time he went out, he went farther and didn't come back quite as close. We managed to get setup within range of where he was, but he never came that close again. Our calls went unanswered in that early morning fog and Larry even tried to belly crawl with the decoy above him along the edge of the woods. He would lift his head from feeding, but that was the extent of his interest in our offerings. We mangaged to make a wrong move sometime in our persuit, because he eventually ran out of the field, stopped and looked back once and was gone for good. Oh well, we know where he will be next time!

A bad dream I had....Monday April 17, 2006

Okay, so I get set up in this really thick section of woods. It's been raining all night and it is just starting to rain even harder. The birds should be gobbling, but they aren't. I call about 5-6 times just to try and get something going. Nothing. I'm not real surprised, I am in an area better suited for deer hunting during the peak of the hunting pressure. There is no way any self-respecting turkey would walk through this briar choked patch of oaks, he might risk snagging a freshly preened feather or worse yet get eaten by a predator that could hide so easily in this mess. After a few more minutes of silence, I decided that I needed to get on the horn again, with a pretty aggressive cutt, yelp, cutt sequence. I was rudely cut off mid sequence by a booming gobble less than 100yds away. I couldn't believe it so I cutt again and was answered immediately. I looked around and found a tree that would be a little better for shooting down the logging road I was on and made a quick move. The only shot I could possibly get would be a bird walking down this road. Well, I called again just to see where he was, and gobbbbbblllleeeeee, about fifty yards away. I readied the gun in the direction he was headed, he should pop out on the logging road within range any moment. Well, a minute went by and I didn't see him or hear him, I figured I could hear a 20lb bird walking through this thick stuff at that distance. So, I called again. I couldn't even finish my call and the gobbler boomed back, nearly blowing my hat off. His gobble was followed by the "it's now or never" sound of a spit and drum. I switched my eyes to the brush directly in front of me just in time to see a snowball-white head pop in between two trees at ten yards. This is usually a good thing, but my gun was pointed at 9 o'clock and the bird was at 12. The head disappeared behind a big oak tree and I made my move. I am not sure if he heard me move, saw me somehow, or what, but instead of the head coming out the other side of the tree, it reappeared in the gap between the two trees and before I could adjust a few inches to the left, the bird had already started walking away, DIRECTLY BEHIND THE BIG TREE. I felt pretty sick for a few minutes, but then I realized that if I shot every single one I tangled with, it probably wouldn't be that much fun anymore. At least that is what I keep telling myself!

Friday April 14, 2006

I spent a few nights this week walking C.F. Phelps WMA in Southwestern Fauquier County. With the aid of some aerial photography that I got at work and a road map I tried to pinpoint the most logical places to find turkeys. That place is actually really nice. It's state owned and open to public hunting, and they have agricultural fields spotted throughout the entire place. There are even ponds to waterfowl hunt. However, I didn't see one piece of turkey sign. I saw plenty of deer, a fox, and tons of squirrels, but no red-headed thunder chickens. I checked numerous fields, pipelines, powerlines, and hardwood ridges and draws. Enthusiasm ran high as I stepped out of the truck, but with daylight waning and peepers peeping, tree frogs buzzing, I made the trek each night back to the truck with only the echoes of past birds gobbling in my head. As most could relate, each stump, grass clump, branch, downed tree, and rock looked like a turkey to me. The drive time and rediculously priced gas seemed worth it on the way down, but riding in the truck back to the house, I had to give my maps, calls, and motivation a little pep talk. Time and effort never seem wasted, but the nearly $2.00/gal of gas that I burned on the trip really got to me. Friends here have already killed birds, and one of them has killed a few. When I say killed, I don't me personally, but he was a part of the hunt. The guy he took out this morning killed his first turkey ever, an 11+" beard with hooks just shy of 1.5"! He had 8 or so birds gobbling around him this am, and he has already had mornings with over 10 birds within earshot. I am struggling to just find a track or a feather, and it's starting to piss me off. I'm not pissed at him, or anyone for that matter. I am pissed at the fact that I can't find a place to hunt. Sure, I can go to the state land, and park in a parking area with three other trucks, and just get bumped around all morning. The one place I wanted to hunt on Thompson WMA near the house had 4 cars parked at 10:30am on opening day last weekend, and it was real shitty out, raining hard, wind was whipping, and the fog up there made it difficult to walk down a trail. What would make me go up there on a decent day? I haven't "hunted" Phelps yet, but I plan to in the AM. I will not be the least bit surprised to find a bunch of vehicles camped out at each of the parking areas. I don't know what I am going to do then, maybe I'll just give up again. There is a lot of nice land surrounding the state land, but I think I learned my lesson tuesday about that. I was up near Thompson WMA asking permission from a farm where I had spotted a flock on Saturday on my return trip from the state land. The guys name was Eugene Bedell, seemed like a good 'ol farmer name! It seemed better than the Mr. Vanderbilt, Dr. Mellon, or any of the other uppity, old money, estate owners that I've asked in the past. Well, as I pulled up the driveway the Princeton and Harvard stickers on the back of his SUV were shining in the sun like big NO TRESPASSING signs. I approached the door, didn't get an answer, and proceeded to the tenant house at the beginning of the driveway. The mexican lady that answered the door said he would be back later and that she doesn't think he has anyone hunting the land. Well, I called him on Tuesday night, and he said he had a bunch of guys that have been workind on the farm for years that hunt it and that he can't let me hunt. He said, "those guys work so that they can hunt here", then started laughing and said, "you don't work here, so you can't hunt". My mind said, "Prick", but my mouth said, "okay, thanks for your time." Bottomline here is......the majority of the people down here are just unbelievably unfriendly and the few that aren't are so hard to find, it almost makes it not worth it. I really hope that this spring and summer all these people who don't allow hunting on their land spend thousands of dollars on repairing or replacing their landscaping, and then when they leave the driveway, I hope they drive their shiny, expensive car, right into the side of a male deer. that way, they get screwed with fixing the car, hurting the animal, and they still wind up with the same increasing population of deer next year.

Monday April 10, 2006

Monday April 10, 2006
Sunny, Clear Skies
Temps High 50's early
No Wind
Unknown Bar. Pressure
Catlett, Virginia


Larry and Jason went out to CRM 9 this am. They were in the truck by 6:45 suckin' down coffee. They called two in from the southeast corner of the property and Beeler couldn't get a clear shot, and when the time came, LB knocked the head off this one. Congrats LB, nothing like connecting on the first morning you hunt!

Saturday April 8, 2006

Saturday April 8, 2006
Steady Rain/Overcast
Temps 50f-55f
No Wind
Unknown Bar. Pressure
Middleburg, VA


Today was the opening day of Turkey season in Virginia. Matt Hazzard got permission to hunt birds on the farm where he deer hunted this fall. I saw birds on that farm during the later part of the season last spring, so I was hoping they would be there this year. Matt heard a gobble down by Goose Creek one night a week or so ago, while walking his dog in the woods. It has been raining since about 9 o'clock last night. We stayed inside until it was about that time, we probably should have left sooner, but it was raining and overcast, so I knew the birds would be a little late anyway. We listened for about a half hour down by the first horse jump on the trail going in. From there we should have been able to hear any birds in the open hardwoods behind the horse pasture, behind the blind guys house, and up on the knob in the back of the property. We didn't hear anything so we walked all the way down to the creek where he was when he heard that bird gobble the other day. We took shelter from the rain under a big rock that was protruding out of the hillside. A goose was nesting on another big rock about 10yds in front of us, the only way to get up there is to fly, so she's got a good spread. All she has to do is keep an eye out for avian predators and maybe a snake. We sat and called to the meadow across the stream, hoping to just get a gobble, let alone call him across the creek. At about 8am, we figured it was a lost cause and headed for the house. When we got back, Hazzard was getting dry clothes to change into and I was standing in the driveway. I put in a diaphram and gave a little cluck, cutt, yelp series, and to my amazement, it was answered by multiple gobblers behind the house. It sounded like they were across the creek and up in a field I could make out through the trees. I yelled to Hazzard, "you wanna call some birds in, even though we can't shoot them?", and I was answered with a quick slam of the door. We were off down the hill. In a hunting situation I would have crossed the creek and setup in the floodplain meadow. However we didn't have permission to be there and we couldn't hunt on his landlords property, so we just setup on her side of the creek, minus firepower. I made a few calls with my diaphrams, and within minutes spotted the two jakes moving across the floodplain towards our setup. I knew they wouldn't cross, but I figured we could get a good show! Just then a big, long, deep gobble boomed from the sidelines and in walked a big boy. I could only see his beard swing in front of him for a second, but I knew he was a good one. Once he started gobbling the jakes shut up. I managed to get them all going at once, by switching to my Woodhaven Hornet and giving them some kee kee run action. Too bad they were a little behind us so it was difficult for me to see them and impossible for Matt. Eventually they walked off and I grabbed the deke and we were back in the driveway in minutes. We were headed to hunt Thompson WMA from the top (which didn't end up producing anything but a few pieces of turkey crap), when I said, "Let's go ask permission over where those birds are, what's the worst that can happen, they say no?" Well, I was wrong, my third attempt at knocking on doors brought an answer from a lady wearing some turqouise beaded thing. I asked if she owned the property where we had just seen the turkeys and she asked if I was a hunter. I was standing there in full camo, so I knew she was preparing a good one. I said, "yes" and she said, "well I'm an animal rights activist". I responded quickly with, "I'll take that as a no". She attempted to start an arguement by asking me if I feel sorry for all the animals that suffer, but I cut her off with, "Listen, we can do this if you want to, but I would prefer that we didn't, you sure as hell aren't going to change my mind, and I won't change yours, so let's cut our losses here!" I also said, "The only animals I see suffering are the ones around here where no one lets anyone hunt and these animals are way over their carrying capacity and they have to resort to eating YOUR shrubbery through chicken wire mesh and end up getting hit by cars everyday". It actually never escalated any further than that and eventually I made my way back to the truck only to meet her husband who asked how I was doing after my ass-reaming. I told him it was one of the more pleasant encounters I've had with an animal rights activist and he said, "yeah, I wish we could shoot every one of those goddamn deer, but everytime I bring it up she'll hear none of it" On down the road we go....to finish the last hour and a half before noon at Thompson walking through marginal at best turkey habitat.