Saturday, March 27, 2004

Yelping in the fog There was no visible sunrise this morning. The fog just lightened up enough so you could see just how far you couldn't see. From my post next to an ash on a field edge overlooking a wooded swamp, that wasn't very far. Maybe 60 yards. Far enough, though. I was listening more than looking. Over the hill behind me, and across the field to the west, two cock pheasants were letting each other and the rest of us know they were hot stuff. The crows woke up next. Three of them kited into a bare aspen from somewhere up the hardwood ridge. Two jawed at each other for awhile, while the third pecked under both wings repeatedly (after mites?), then ruffled all its feathers like a robin in a birdbath. A trio of geese announced their progress through the fog and passed overhead about 30 yards up. A foursome followed, then several more small flocks, all headed northwest toward breakfast, perhaps in the alfalfa just greening up on the neighboring farm. Two song sparrows twittered out their equivalent of the crowing pheasants' challenge, then sandhill cranes joined in the chorus off in the big wetland to the east. This wonderful morning symphony was missing only one thing. Gobbles. Not a single gobble answered any of the other bird calls. Finally, I hooted out a "who cooks for y'all" that didn't faze the song sparrows a bit and failed to draw a gobble. More owling met the same reception, so I dug out a box call and sent a few yelps into the fog. Still no response. Too early in the season? I doubt it. Others have heard gobbling already. Maybe the fog had dampened their ardor. Or maybe there weren't any turkeys within earshot. Fearing the latter, I took a slow walk around the farm, noting the boundaries. Up a hardwood ridge that continued past a row of yellow posted signs, then southeast to the wetland, which I started to negotiate, hopping from log to hummock to avoid shipping cold runoff into my kneehighs. When it occurred to me that this wetland was more extensive than any sane turkey would want to cross, I turned around and headed back out. I'm getting to the age where it also occurs to me that if I fell and broke a leg in a spot like that, I might not be found for a week. Or a couple years. I followed the little creek that runs out of that wetland through a strip of cedars and hardwoods and poked my nose out into an alfalfa field. A hundred yards down the edge, a big turkey turned and headed for cover. I got the binocs on him fast enough to note a long beard. Then I saw his companion, another bristle-toter. Bingo! Just when I was beginning to think we needed to find another farm, we were back in the game. I retreated into the hardwoods and circled back to the east, looking for an ambush spot and found one where the hardwoods narrow to a fenceline with an opening big enough to drive a tractor through. Thirty yards south, the fenceline and woods form a corner. If those birds are still around next week, that's where we'll tuck a couple blinds. Yes, two. We've got big plans for those toms. One of them, anyway. Read on... Turkey season will be here in a hurry. This year, I have three hunts planned: New York in early May, Wisconsin for sixth period and a special hunt next week under the DNR's "Learn to Hunt" program. In that hunt, I'll be serving as mentor for Debby Wolniak, an experienced pheasant and duck hunter who has never hunted turkeys. Debby is currently taking a crash course in turkey biology, hunting tactics, calling, safety, etc. She attended a DNR-sponsored turkey hunter education clinic today taught by Mike Ripp at the Germantown Gander Mountain store. Next Saturday, both she and I will attend a four-hour "Learn to Hunt" clinic in Saukville, taught by Saukville Police Chief Bill Meloy and Ted Fischer, runner-up in last year's Wisconsin State Turkey Calling Competition. She'll hunt next week prior to the state season opening bell on private land, as will a dozen or so other beginners, each with a mentor whose job will be to coach, assist and, if they bag a bird, cheer. Mentors may not handle the weapon, but are responsible for seeing that their hunter has what he or she needs to have a good experience, if not a successful hunt. We'll be taping Debby's hunt for Outdoor Wisconsin, which adds an additional challenge. We'll not only have to find a cooperative bird, we'll also have to make sure our two-man camera crew is hidden from turkey eyes, yet in position to capture the action on tape. To help with the whole process, Ted Fischer and his son, Jesse (who by the way beat out his dad to win the state turkey-calling championship last year) will be calling for us. If one of those toms I met today is somewhere in the area next week, we should at least get a good look at him. We'll keep you posted! Later... 7:26:38 PM    comment []