This is a repost of the Epic Turkey Hunting Adventure that my son, Brad, and I had last year. Originally posted on Facebook, and thought lost but I was able to recover a copy of it, and thought, maybe some of my blog readers would enjoy reading it here. As we meet our intrepid heros on day 4 in the turkey woods of West Central Wisconsin. The first 3 days were spent fishing the Mississippi river chasing white bass and walleye and is its own epic adventure. So relax, and have a read. I bring you, The Epic Turkey Hunting Adventure 2010.
Day 4 of Brad and I’s epic adventure. Hopes and expectations run high as we go to bed on Day 3. With dreams of deep fried wild turkey filling our sweet little heads. Alarm clock blazes me awake at 3:15. WAT THE HELL???? I dont even get up this early to fish a tournament! Ok, so coffee is made, twice on a coffee maker that would lose in a race with a tortise.
Start going thru the mental check list. Boots, check. Camo pants, check. Camo shirt, check. Guns, check. Vest with all the doodads check. Ammo, ya cant forget the ammo, check. all set to get out the door. 4 am. The epic adventure begins.
Out the door, in the truck headed north. The first ten miles of the adventure and uneventful. The next 20 or so miles would make a rollercoaster designer envious. Turn onto a little gravel road that takes us to THE SPOT. 4:45am.
We can legally shoot at 5:30, got about a 15 minute walk to the SPOT. I figure we need to be at the SPOT about 5:20 or so. Finish up our coffee and gear up. Expectations are extremely high. Brad didnt happen to mention that this place has hills……….. lots of hills…
The trek to the SPOT has begun. We trudge up the side of this mountain. Now imagine a 51 yo guy, smokes to much, and doesnt get a whole lot of excercise carrying a gun, a folding seat and all his doodads, in the pitch dark. Lungs about to explode…… gotta… stop…. anybody have a O2 canister? And we are only 100 yds from the truck.
With an oxygen deprived body and brain we finally get to the top of the hill. Brad nonchalantly says, Ya know OLD MAN, this is a small hill. I pledge then and there to shoot him as soon as my system gets enough oxygen back to my starved brain. (Keep this in mind as the Epic Adventure Continues.)
Brads got this really nice GPS unit that we got him for christmas. Really a nice unit all the bells and whistles on it. (this is another thing to keep in mind as the Epic Adventure continues.) He gets it outta his Turkey Vest (ya gotta have a Turkey Vest to be an official Turkey Hunter) where hes got all his doodads and stuff. Says, this is the trail we go in on. Its still pitch black, Im in the woods with my Son. Im wondering if the Banjo’s are gonna start up anytime soon. Daa, da da, da, da, da, da da daaaaaaa
Unseen Poison Ivy worries the hell outta me. Brad assures me that he has been here a buncha times and never gotten any on him. Had a bad run in with the stuff at the Scout camp one time. But thats a different Epic Adventure for a different time.
When you get into the turkey woods in the pre dawn blackness you use a crow call or an owl call to make the Toms gobble. Having this information in my now oxygen refreshed brain I pull out my trusty crow call. CAW, CAW, CAW… say I. Total silence. Its 5:30. Turkey, prepare to meet your maker. Again the vision of hot oil, and wild turkey fill my head. We carefully pick our way in the pre dawn darkness further into the wood. Says I, CAW CAW CAW!!! The woods erupt in the sounds that I was so longing to hear. Gobble, Gobble, Gobble!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Until you have heard the sound of this in the woods you just cannot imagine how thrilling it is. The woods were alive with turkeys. Not just any Turkeys, but, Mine and Brads turkeys. We have about 3 seconds to come up with a game plan. Brad has this extremely sexy set of Turkey Decoys, a Tom and a hen. He gets em out (this seems to take an eternity) We each hunker down by a tree. Totally camo’d out. The area around our eyes is the only skin exposed. Brads about 20 yds or so to my left. Its important to know the location of your Son, so as not to put a load of turkey shot into his ass. As much as you really want to……
I forgot to mention Amy Sue. Ya see, Amy Sue is a dirty girl. Shes the one that sits at the end of the bar, nice body, not so nice teeth. Got a mouth like a sailor, but knows all the dirty things to say to the boys to get em all riled up and wantin to do a little leg humpin………..
Amy Suie is now front and center. Shes lonely as its been a long time since she got to talk dirty to the boys. She starts out with a, Hey Baby.. whatcha doin call..
Now, Amy Sue has the attention of all the boys that are within earshot. They all say, Hey Babe, you sure got a sexy voice. There are about 5 turkeys, that have the testosterone level of a Junior in High School wanting to parlay with ol Amy Sue. As is so true, there is always one guy, that elbows his way past the others and wants to offer up a drink and some nasty conversation to ole Amy Sue.
Amy Sue is really into this dirty talkin stuff. Shes begging and pleading for one of the boys to come and parlay with her. Putt, Putt, Purrrrrrrrr, Purrrrrrrrrr, Yelp, yelp, yelp, yelp, yelp……. (This means, I got something you want, but you gotta come to me to see what I have to offer You)
Now, this old Tom Bird, hes kinda playing hard to get. Ya see, he dont make a Bee Line to ole Amy Sue. He’s kinda mosey’n over towards her. But hes talking to her. Like from across the bar……. (At this point, all we can do is hear him. Hes gettin closer but how close he is, is still unknow.
Amy Sue: Yelp, yelp, yelp, yelp, yelp, yelp, purrrrrrrr, purrrrrrr. (shes gettin all worked up, and wantin some company bad!!)
Now at this point, all the Tom talk, has been in the distance but gettin closer. This Tom, had snuck in close, but still sight unseen. Lets out with a thunderous GOBBLE GOBBLE GOBBLE. I get an adrenelin rush like I had never experienced, and the heart is approaching astronomical BPM.
Turkeys have a brain that is about as big as a Lima bean. But, their eyesight and hearing is incredibly sharp. I was told by another turkey hunter that if they had an accute sense of smell, you would never be able to kill one.
Amy Sue is bringing out the husky voice now, Yelp, yelp, yelp, purrrrr, purrrrr.
I can finally see him coming. Off to my right, I dare not move. Remember the eyesight thing. Hes out there spitting, and huffing and gobbling. He’s struttin his stuff, but ole Amy Sue, she aint comin to him. Shes stayin put.
Again the Hot Oil vision fills my head… closer to reality now. Ol Tom is still out there about 75 yds or so, doin his thing, Amy Sue is really talkin dirty now. Now I can honestly say, that I dont understand turkey talk one bit. Its kinda like trying to listen to someone talking Chinese and trying to figure out what the hell they are sayin, but Ole Amy Sue, well, she musta said something about Dr. and infection or condoms, or a skin rash that is gonna clear up soon, but ol Tom kinda wanders off into the woods.
Amy Sue is despondent. She pleads with him to not go. But alas, after all the dirty talking and things that would happen our 45 minutes of work produces nothing. The vision of Hot Oil meets turkey, changes to , Bologna sammichs and a bottle of water.
Remember the 2 pots of coffee I had made back at 3:15?? Well, I hadda get rid of some of the coffee about the time that the birds all woke up to the crow call. Didnt have time to do it then. Coffee+45 minutes+adrenalin= doing an Irish jig peepee dance to beat the band, but ya cant get up an dance when ol Tom comes a callin. Well you get the picture.
Ol Toms not comin back. Reality sets in. Bummer…… But talk about thrilling!!! Totally Awesome!!!!!
So we being Brad and I meander another 100 yds down the path/trail. Amy Sue is talkin to the whole Bar now. hey cutie, hey baby, commere and buy ole Amy Sue a drink…
Bein that ole Tom has left, another reprobate fondly steps up. GOBBLE GOBBLE GOBBLE. Again the decoys come out, 3 second game plan goes into effect. We are hunkered down as well as we can….
Amy Sue: Yelp, yelp, yelp, yelp, yelp, yelp ( This is honestly to dirty to translate here)
Tom 2: Gobble, Gobble, Gobble…
Well the dirty talk lasts for about 15 minutes, I start to think that maybe the bartender is gonna ask Amy Sue to leave, as they have heard about enough. Old Tom 2 never makes himself visible. Just kinda sulks off back into the woods. (I really think that old Tom 1 ran into Tom 2 and clued him into the whole Dr. skin rash, infection thing.
9:45 the woods are totally silent of turkey talk, other than Amy Sue still lookin for a date. We decide to call it a morning. Walking back to the truck, the mountain we had climbed in the dark was really just a pretty steep ramp. HMMMM……. seemed like it was almost vertical this morning.
At the truck, we come out of all our gear, get yet another cuppa coffee and just kinda relax aournd the tailgate, re-living the excitement of the morning. Along comes this pickup truck with a couple guys in it who had been out hunting. They stop to chat for a bit. We find out that they came over from Milwaukee area to hunt, and asked them how they had done. Said they only saw a couple of hens. They asked how we did and we honestly told them we had working birds and would be back after them this afternoon.
We had said something that the turkeys had gone silent and we could not find them again, the one guy says well ya got to use a Peacock call. Owl Hooter and Crow calls do not work late morning and afternoon.
We wish them good hunting and they go on their way.
Plans were made to hit Gander Mtn in Onalaska for A Peacock call.
TURKEYS BEWARE!!!!!!
Onalaska bound we be!!!!! Gander Mtn is tops on the list right now. Huge turkey huntin section. Browsing the calls… Damn, Double Damn!!!! No peacock call, but in a package of 3 calls is a Pileated Woodpecker call, which I’m told can do double duty as a peacock call or woodpecker call. These are also known as Locator Calls. As I doubt anyone in their right mind would attempt to call a peacock or Pileated Woodpecker.
Call in hand, next stop TGI Fridays for a burger and fries. The Jack Daniels Bacon Cheeseburger is damn good!!
Sometime during the trek to Onalaska Brad finds out that Alvander, ( his oldest boy) has a 5th grade program at school tonight. Time to rethink our “Puttin the turkeys to bed plan”
We decide to go back to the hunting grounds post haste!! With call in hand we arrive at the Promised Land. Trudge back up the mountain side to “The Spot”
Now a Pileated Woodpecker has a very distinct call. Very high and very staccatto. Usually a series of 8-12 notes. I let forth with my best Pileated Woodpecker call. Nuttin….. Silence.
Being that nothing is talking back to us, we set forth and sallie out. Into the wilds of the South Beaver Creek Wildlife Management Area. Now sometime in the last 30-50 years, this section of the woods had been logged. It appears that the mature hardwoods had been forested, while the softer wood like birch was just cut and piled up on the sides of their logging roads. Lots of roads and trails, old stumps, and piled birch. EVERYWHERE!!!!!!!!
Remember the GPS Doodad that Brad has? Well, hes not into the whole sharing aspect that his mother and I tried so hard to teach him in his younger impressionable days. It has a screen that is a bit smaller than an IPhone screen. But to view it, you have to have it about 8″ or so from your face.
(This picture was lost from the original post on Facebook)
Please refer to the Image I put up of the South Beaver creek WMA. ((Insert Picture here)) The access point is where we parked the truck. The Stick pin on The Spot is THE SPOT. This is where we started. But not where we ended up. Refering to the map. Do you see The “S” in the word South? Somehow we ended up there rather than at the access point. But getting there is where the afternoons Epic Adventure of Brad And I gets Interesting.
The wonders of modern technology are truly amazing tools!! There is one caveat. You must interpret the information it gives you correctly. You gotta remember, Brad has been out scouting this area at least a couple of times in the preceeding weeks to me coming up. I applaud him in his efforts and he has done a phenominal job in this aspect. So, off we are in the woods. Me, Brad, and Woody the woodpecker call trying to locate some talkative birds.
Did I ever say that turkeys have a very acute sense of hearing? Well, the woods are dry, very dry, and what is on the woods floor?? Leaves, lots, an lots of dried leaves. I never realized that 2 relatively intellegent individuals could possibly make so much noise as we made all the while trying to be as stealthy and as quiet as we could.
So, we are still busting trail, and happen to stumble on to an old logging road. We have options. left or right. Out comes the GPS. Brad is doing the interpreting of the data.. Right goes away from said truck, left it will be then. Off we go walking for what seems an eternity. I am convinced that we are walking away from our intended destination. Brad just tells me that Im old and senile and that his GPS will get us back to the truck.
(Another photo lost on the original Facebook post)
We come across the Wisconsin Deer Hunters Version of the Deer Stand. Please refer to the photo. ((Insert photo #2))
I think the banjo’s are tuning up…
Well further on up the logging road we go, and it changes from a logging road to what appears to be a driveway. We find electric fencing. A manicured section of grass…… Around the bend We have met “Deliverance”!!!!
Ramshackle Rundown, unfriendly dog, broke down cars, double wide seriously in need of a gallon of gas and a match.
Decision time. Continue on thru Deliverance or back into the wilds of South Beaver Creek WMA. Being that I am not into the whole tresspassing thing, and we area carrying guns and all, we decide to abandon our nice, manicure road/driveway/logging road. We get thru a section of fence and cut out into the woods.
Now, Brad tells me, Dad, I have never been scouting in this area, so I dont know anything about this section of land. Referring to the picture of the WMA that I put up, you see what look like the high spots well those are the ridges. and in between are the valleys. Mr. GPS tells me, I was going to take you around the ridges and valleys but we really need to go up and down a couple of them to get to the truck.
As a Dad, I am starting to question his abilities in the GPS navigation. As his father, I am concerned. Knowing that we have a 5th grade performance that we cannot miss and running short on time. No food to eat. Deep Fried Turkey, or bologna sammich, and a bottle of water. Off we go into the unknown..
Our first ascent. I would like to liken it to climbing Mt. Kiliminjaro. But with the added attractions of down trees, brush, brambles and a bunch of stuff that could trip you up and send you headlong into a 200 foot near vertical fall. I would honestly judge that the slopes we climbed were between 60 and 70 degrees. Maybe even a little more.
Soaking wet from sweat. No water to drink. Starving for oxygen. Wondering why I just didnt go ahead and shoot Mr GPS the first thing this morning and be done with it??
Climb 20′ rest. pray for a helicopter. Climb 20′ rest. pray for O2. Climb 20′ wish that I had just rolled over the night Mr. GPS was conceived. Rinse and repeat. Finally get to the top. Boy that was FUN!!!!!!!
Now climbing was difficult to say the least. But the near vertical descent all the while carrying my gun and having my turkey vest with all the doodads, and Amy Sue along for the ride. Well, as a kid, most are damn near fearless!!!! As a relatively intelligent adult, we tend to look at things a bit differently and react to the situations differently.
My left knee is throbbing. Really worried that if it goes out, im so screwed. Legs are tired beyond imagination. Lungs are burning. Sweat soaked, well you get the picture. The decent was uneventful thankfully. Take your time, make sure of handholds, and foot placements.
Brambles pretty much suck ASS!!!!
They tear at your clothes, your skin and anything else that it could possibly get to. The bottom of the valley is all brambles, and fall downs/blow downs like a hugemongous set of pick up sticks.
Now Mr GPS has his gun on a sling. he has both hands free. While, I have no sling, and only one hand to help me out in case of an OH SHIT moment!!
While we are in the Bramble hell of South Beaver Creek WMA I realize that there is no Cell Phone signal. EVER!!!! Not even at the top of the next god forsaken ridge that looms ever so present. A broken leg or blown out knee could really be a serious affair.
MR GPS assures me that with his GPS he could mark my location of my rotting body and bring the recovery team to get me so I can have a proper funeral.
I generally have a great sense of humor. In fact it is one of my redeeming qualities I believe. My sense of humor has now left the building along with Elvis. We have at least 2 more monster climbs to do. No cell phone, no water. The bugs have now taken an interest in us.
Turkeys??? To hell with em!!!!!!!!!!!! I just want to get back to the truck alive, with all my appendages intact. With or without MR GPS.
Seriously, one shotgun blast with a 3″ magnum turkey load to his noggin would put him out of my misery. But then, who the hell would run the DAMN GPS?????
I dont have a clue how to work it? and No COMPASS!!!
The second ascent is longer and higher than the first. And our constant companions the bugs are tagging along for the ride. Must be my sparkling personality or possibly my deodarant or just maybe that im TOTALLY SOAKED TO THE SKIN WITH SWEAT. Every gasping breath my system is replenished with a little extra protein.
Strange, MR GPS is not having the same issues with bugs that I am. Must be all the Hmong food he eats.
The next descent is more vertical. And at the bottom in the ravine your feet cannot touch the ground. This is pick up sticks x 100. But the trouble is, its all rotten wood that has been down there for years. One misstep and there goes the family jewels, (not that I had em along on this trip anyways, cause Diane wouldnt give em to me outta her purse) or seriously broken leg or possibly worse.
MR GPS, now to be known as Mr I Got 2 Hands free (MIG2HF) is happily climbing thru the pickup sticks a good ways in front of me. In my most fatherly manner I remind him that I only have ONE FRIKKIN HAND FREE and that if he could stay a little closer I may have half a chance of getting outta this damn nightmare in more or less one piece.
With a little luck, and being extra careful to not injure myself, I manage to make it to firm footing. A special thanks goes to MIG2HF for the assistance in getting thru. (Really glad I didnt shoot him in the head like I have wanted to for the last couple of hours.)
The next climb was uneventful.. climb rest, climb gasp for air, climb contemplate applying for a double lung transplant. We finally make it out of the Valley of the Shadow of Death!! We are in a farmers field. No briars, or brambles or deadfalls to climb over.
Only my constant companions the bugs and MIG2HF. MR GPS/MIG2HF consults his wonderful little electronic device and say, almost there dad. The truck is right over there. Only gotta walk down this field, and one descent back into the Valley of the Shadow of Death. And we should be within 100 yds of the truck.
In my sweat soaked, oxygen deprived body and mind, I aint buyin nothing he is sellin!!!!!! BULLSHIT!!! You’re lying to me just to keep me going, rather than telling me the truth, cause you dont want me to shoot you in the head with a magnum turkey load.
We walk down this farmers field, and lo and behold, I can actually see the truck across the Last Valley of the Shadow of Death. At this point, I no longer need any encouragement to descend into the Valley. In fact, I relish this. My buddies the bugs and MR GPS/MIG2HF can come along if they want. I no longer give a rats ass if they are here or not!!!!! It was one of those purpose driven descents, determined, obsessed, maybe a little reckless, down, down down I go. Legs burning, knee throbbing, bone tired, Auntie EM I wanna go back to Kansas descents.
Finally. Level ground. Truck in sight. There is no conversation wtih MR GPS/MIG2HF. Like I said, I no longer give a shit if he’s there or not.
Now, at this point, I am really glad I still have my turkey vest on. Ya see, the truck keys are safely stored in one of its many zippered pockets. I reach down and give my key pocket a loving little tap. Yup, they are still there.
Finally, the safety and security of my truck. I look over my shoulder and MR GPS/MIG2HF is standing there. Damn, thought I lost him and his buddies the bugs in the last Valley of the Shadow of Death. Finally get the truck open, and start shedding sweat soaked clothes. Locate my case of bottled water. Grab 2 for myself, and pitch 2 at MR GPS/MIG2HF. I think we both polished off those bottles in about 15 seconds flat. Saner minds are now starting to prevail, shotgun blasts to the noggin are dismissed, and I am actually starting to feel somewhat normal.
I forgot to mention that somewheres in between the first ascent and the last descent in the Valley of the Shadow of Death, I had come across a double bloom wildflower. Really a pretty, happy little face on it. Just the prettiest color of blue. I picked it, and carried it with me, in my one remaining hand and as soon as I caught up with MR GPS/MIG2HF gave it to him and told him, That I still loved him irregardless of what he had just put me thru.
In going back and reading this story, all of it true, every last word of it. (wink wink) This all actually happened in the span of about 3 hours. Seemed an eternity that we were out there. Damn, I cant wait to go out and do it all over again, cept, maybe we can leave out the Valley of the Shadow of Death parts, and maybe the lung searing, leg burning climbs.
Hmmmmmmmm, Hot Oil and Wild Turkey…….. what a concept!!!!
Addendum:
Well, we made it to the 5th grade program, where my grandson did an outstanding job. I would really like to tell you that we limited out on our birds over the next 2 days, but that would be telling a lie. Fact is, we never saw any other birds the remainder of the trip. All in all, this adventure was a total blast, and I/we are waiting for the 2011 season to begin, so that we can make another Turkey Hunting Epic Adventure.
Thanks for hanging around for this long read. Hope you have enjoyed it, as it sure was fun posting this up. Stay tuned for THEA part Deux in about a week or so. Brad told me he has already put new batteries in the GPS………………..
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Posted by
Roger T
,
05 February 2012 - 
