Poor iowabow. He didn't believe me when I told him how lusty the lungs are on our birds. We had one bird ringing the bell an hour before sunset. He was sure it was right below us on the ridge. After holding on a great set up on his roost site, we were so cold and miserable, we decided since we were so close to sunset and he had not marched uphill, the mountain was going to Mohammed. We diddy-wopped over the ridge out of sight and boogeyed down low, skirted around on him and put a sneak over the toe of the ridge down in the valley. A couple of yelps and it was obvious to me that he was still a ways off. I figured maybe a hundred yards on a low bench roost site that used to hold birds years back. It was getting too dark to hunt and we got out of the area without tipping our hand.
Once back to the vehicle, we turned and drove up the road closer to the roost sight. We pulled over and owl hooted to get a better line on the bird in the roost in order to make the next morning's hunt easier. He lit up with a rusty pipes yodel that rang up and down the canyons.....across the road, thru a subdivision, and up the next ridge.
When we were thinking he might be 100 yds off, he was still a half mile away. I tell ya, those Merriams have electronic amplification in their voice boxes! John and I were humiliated in all the usual ways and several very novel ways this last weekend. We were "bosed" by birds with brains the size of a shelled pecan, REPEATEDLY. But get this, we worked birds every time we went out. We had set ups, we had chances, we had opportunities. If we were shotgunning, everyone of us would have filled tags, but this was Primitive Archer Forum Wild Turkey Camp (a.k.a. Witless Protection Program).
Fun.
