Our spring filming schedule was a busy one. We’d planned for three weeks in the field, ended up spending seven. This meant I had one day–the last day of the season–to bowhunt Oregon turkey.
Ever since I took my first turkey, nearly 30 years ago, I’ve been enamored with these magnificent birds. With one day to hunt, I could have blown it off, but I’d have never forgiven myself.
I returned to a place I’d seen a high concentration of toms earlier in the season. My thinking was most hens were now nesting and the toms were split up, searching for stray hens.
Given the high tom to hen ratio in the area, I chose a Cabela’s Full Strut decoy with a prepared tail fan from a tom I’d taken a few seasons prior. Daylight came quicker than anticipated and I couldn’t reach the grassy flat I wanted to. So, I pitched the ground blind at the bottom of a ridge.
Decoy in place, I’d already heard a tom gobbling above me, and when I let out a yelp on my Mother Load box call, he answered right back. Minutes later he flew from his roost…the opposite way.
I continued calling, but soon the tom was out of earshot. Assuming he was on a hen, I’d hoped it was one that just happened to be off her nest temporarily, feeding.
The tom had already heard me, and acknowledged that by gobbling. So, I sat tight, offering up calls every 10 minutes or so. More than an hour passed, and finally I heard a faint gobble on the point of the ridge above me. Another yelp on the box call, and the tom answered back. Then he went silent, not responding to any sounds I offered up. I sat, silently, hoping he wasn’t hungup.
A few minutes later I could see his patriotic head sticking above the tall grass. It took him a while, but when he spotted the full strut decoy, he locked-on and came running.
His mass of feathers moved loosely on his body, like a knight in bulky armor. Green, blue, silver and copper hues reflected from his body, and his head transitioned from red and blue, to predominantly white. He was looking for a fight.
He covered the 125 yards faster than I’d thought, but when he cleared the low-hanging bows of a nearby fir tree, my Fugitive was at full draw. I’d already ranged the distance to the decoy, and at 10 yards knew it was just a matter of holding steady.
The tom came in aggressive; not strutting, but with feathers slightly flared, looking for a confrontation. The instant he started circling the decoy, I let the Diamond go. Spitting my Gold Tip Velocity arrow out at 312 feet per second, the impact seemed instantaneous. The tom didn’t go far.
Admiring the striking colors of this gorgeous bird, I couldn’t have been happier. The bird weighed 22 lbs., sported a 9.5” beard, 1 1/8” spurs and gave us more great eating meat. Wild turkey is one of our favorite game birds to eat; visit my wife’s blog at www.tiffanyhaugen.com, for free recipes.
I had some great turkey hunts in other places this spring, but when it comes down to the final day, in a place you’ve been hunting for decades, the experience just feels extra special.
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