Friday, April 16, 2004

Learn to Hunt This post was inspired by Kevin Naze's recent experience in a Learn-to-Hunt program. You've got to read his story. It brought tears to my eyes and a wonderful calm to my heart. My hunt was nothing like Kevin's, but it was memorable none the less. Debby Wolniak and I joined a group of 10 boys, girls and one woman and their mentors for the classroom part of her instruction at the Saukville Police Dept. on April 3. Police Chief and volunteer DNR hunter education instructor Bill Meloy drilled the group on safety and related his own first turkey hunt. Ted Fischer briefed everyone on turkey hunting tactics. Then it was off to the Saukville Gun Club, where novices and mentors patterned shotguns. By noon, all agreed they were ready to hunt. Most of the group would hunt the following Saturday, but Debby's hunt was set for Tuesday, April 6 because we were taping it for Outdoor Wisconsin. In the pre-dawn darkness, we clambered into a tent blind, while our TV crew of Michael Garvin and Thad Groszczyk each climbed into separate blinds adjacent to ours. It looked like Yurt City perched on that Town of Saukville hillside. Meanwhile, Ted and his son, Jesse, who was last year's state turkey-calling champion, hunkered in a hedgerow 70 yards to the west. When the sky began to lighten, Ted and Jesse began calling. The wooded ridge to the east erupted in a symphony of gobbles. We counted at least three birds, but couldn't tell if there were more because they were stepping on each others' lines so badly it sounded like one long gobble-obble-obble-obble. About then, it began to rain lightly and the birds shut up. At about 6:30, Debby asked me for some handwarmers, and I was digging for them in my shooting bag, when she exclaimed in a loud whisper: "Oh oh. Here we go!" I peeked out one window to see four big toms waddle out of the woods and head up the hill toward us. Jesse cut loose with some fast cutting and the toms gobbled back at him. We had a bevy of decoys in the field in front of us at various ranges, including a hen at 15 yards and a jake at 10. We had hoped any toms that might show up would confront the jake. We wanted them that close because Debby was shooting a bow. Yes. Call me crazy, but I went along with her desire to take her first bird with a bow. She had been practicing at paper targets and more recently had switched to a Rinehart 3-D turkey target. She was deadly at 10 yards at was putting 4 out of 5 shots in the kill zone at 15. Three toms hung together in a knot, but one stepped out a half-length ahead of the others. When Ted yelped, he gobbled. "Get ready," I whispered. She came to a full draw and settled on the lead bird, while I zapped him with my range finder. "Twenty-five yards!" I whispered. "Twenty-three." "Can I shoot?" she pleaded? "No," I replied. "Twenty-five. Doggone it!" We watched helplessly as the quartet walked right past our decoys, as if on a string to Ted and Jesse's calling. I grabbed a box call and started cutting at them. They stopped, gobbled, then marched on, passing a few yards in front of Jesse. We sat tight, while rain and wind pelted our blinds. Between showers, Ted sneaked in for a strategy session. "I never thought we'd call them off the decoys," he said. "You're too good," I told him. Then he told me about the 5th tom we hadn't seen that came out of the woods behind us and beelined across the plowed field straight at him, hobbling over furrow and ridge like a drunken sailor with a broken leg, his beard swinging to and fro as he came. When I yelped on the box call, the big tom stopped and gobbled, then started toward us, but I had not seen him and had thought it was the other toms gobbling. The big guy passed a few feet in front of Ted and all five birds wandered into the big field to the west and out of the callers' sight. Ted moved to our west and tucked himself into the corner of the woods, while Jesse stayed put at the end of the hedgerow. Two hours later, in a steady drizzle, a parade of 17 hens and jakes came walking up the hill from Ted's direction. (Later he told us he could have reached out and grabbed them.) Debby drew again, and I grabbed the range finder. These birds walked so close together I cautioned her to wait for a clear shot. The hens and jennies wandered toward the west, but five jakes hung back, just out of range again. I started cutting on the box call, and they stopped, looked, but wouldn't come any closer. I don't blame them, as they must have noticed some movement through the windows of our blinds. One jake hesitated, shook the rain off his feathers, stood tall at 30 yards and eyeballed our three tents for the longest time, but eventually joined up with his cohorts. Debby was disappointed, but she had exercised proper restraint. She might have hit one of those birds, but 25 yards was nearly twice her confidence range. At least we had some good footage and a story about not shooting if the situation isn't right. Later, as we were breaking for lunch, we spotted all 22 birds in a big field about 400 yards to the west. Deciding it would be futile to try to move our village to a spot where we might intercept them without being spotted, we let them walk over the hill, then went to lunch. That afternoon, Ted, Debby and I came back and set up where we thought the birds might pass on their way back to roost. This time, Debby carried a shotgun. We set up along a hedgerow, with Ted well behind us along the edge of a brushy wetland. Several hens answered Ted's calling, so we figured we had found the large flock again. Those birds never showed themselves, however. Instead of coming out in the open, they stayed in the thick stuff and walked right past Ted, sloshing in the creek as they went. So went our hunt. Debby loved it, all except for the fact that she didn't get a clean shot at a bird. She knows that she could have shot any one of those toms or jakes with a shotgun. Next time, she'll do just that. Meanwhile, the rest of our group hunted last Saturday and Sunday. Four hunters shot toms on Saturday morning, while three more had shots and missed. The team that hunted our field saw our toms and jakes, but didn't get one. In all, it was a successful first experience for the novice hunters, and a great warm-up for the mentors, all of whom have permits for this season. Am I ready for my hunt? Oh, yeah! That was more toms than I sometimes see in a season! And did I mention that one hen had a pretty nice beard? If you don't believe me, wait until you see the tape. Later... 10:14:22 PM    comment []