Hunting turkeys using a bow was a decision made two years ago. It was also my first excursion into bow hunting and first try at hunting birds by any method. The goal; to get one by stalk and shoot or setting up in the woods. No blinds, no dekes. Just me, the bow and the birds.
Last year, both spring and fall I made a lot of mistakes. The bow was a PSE Thunderbolt picked up off Craig’s List for a hundred bucks. Archery was enjoyable enough to order a new bow. Having shot a 2013 Answer made me an instant fanboy of the Elite brand and soon ordered me up an E35. Being a lefty means waiting longer for a bow to arrive.
Fortunately, just before the spring season, a friend loaned me an Obsession Knightmare while I awaited my E 35 to come in. The Knightmare is an awesome bow with one exception; the last 4" of draw the bow stacks pretty hard and suddenly drops into the valley crashing me into the wall. I was never able to make the transition without a lot of movement. The draw cycle and lack of hump is what really sold me on the E35.
During the spring 2014 season things began to click. Calling in birds for friends hunting with shotguns was the first taste of success.
Over the summer, training was very turkey oriented. Balloons for twisting into animals simulated necks (thin and they move about in the slightest breeze) and knocking off water balloons out to 50 yards was the majority of shooting. The goal is a head or neck shot for the "clean kill or clean miss" ethos. The Dollar Store had autumn leaf garland which was used to cover the bow to disguise it and break up the outline. My camo suit went from a flat pattern to leafy 3D.
This fall was a blast. Hunting in the rain, wading through cold rivers to end run a moving flock, and scurrying behind walls with my 11 y.o. son trying to get close enough to shoot. My first shot on a bird was all screwed up. Being a bit excited my shot routine was non-existent ending in a miss and lost arrow.
Next shooting encounter was had after chasing a flock around a swamp for an hour. I managed to end run them and sneak into a good hovel and watched the parade. What was interesting is how the poults and yearlings moved along first, clucking and pecking at each other while jumping onto each other's backs. They appeared more akin to puppies then birds. The hens were the next in the procession followed by jakes with the blue and white headed Toms bring up the rear. 30 yard head and neck shots on walking birds are much more difficult then popping slightly wavering balloons. With each shot they never spooked while I sent my three arrows into the dirt. Feeling bewildered and somewhat frustrated watching the turkeys walk off the field into the woods did little to dampen my enthusiasm.
The next few encounters were awkward as I was too close to the birds for a shot. Hunting on a rainy morning enabled me to move below an embankment while using the ragweed along the crest as cover. The birds were so close I could see the wrinkles in the skin surrounding their eyes. It was tempting to leap out and grab one but not worth the risk of getting some systemic infection from getting spurred or pecked. Furthermore I never bought my "strangle or knife" permit. The available shot was slightly uphill and without knowing what was in the distance and never having taken a shot at anything 10 feet away I needed another plan. With such a smooth draw and having learned slow movements will be tolerated by most turkeys, the release hook was set into the loop. In a long 10 second event I managed to stand up and draw in one continuous motion. Holding at full draw until they were 15 yards out to release the arrow which missed just off the ear of a big Tom.
I'd been scouting a cornfield hoping it'd be cut prior to the end of the season. The birds flew down between 7:20 and 7:25 each morning. The landing zone is roadside and there is no good shots to be had without shooting into the road. My hope was the lure of a freshly cut corn patch might bring them across the field and away from people taking their morning dog walk, commute, or stroll. The corn was cut; game on.
It took three tries to decipher the meander of the flock. After parachuting into the small patch of roadside grass, the flock moved straight across the cornfield before making a clockwise lap back to the original point of entry. What the past three seasons taught me is do not get impetuous and if there is no shot just wait them out until they leave the field so my exit is stealthy and the flock is not afraid to keep the routine. Change the setup to match the movements and be patient.
Last morning of the season and my buddy Steve is coming along. We'd been shutout the day before and figured there is one last chance to fill the autumn tag. Steve setup with his 12 gauge Mossburg about 50 yards to my left. The plan was for the flock to pass by me where I take the pick of the litter. They should spook and keep moving clockwise right into where Steve is hiding beneath an overgrown honeysuckle bush.
We adjusted the meeting time to account for the daylight savings time switch moving from clock scheduling to the circadian rhythm of the natural day. As soon as it was light enough to read the face of my watch the crows began descending on the cornfield. The yelping coming from the trees announced the show was about to begin and like clockwork the flock dropped from the maples. As predicted, the band of turkeys moved across the field but a bit further west then the previous days. Now, instead of coming in on my right, the current path would deposit them straight on and right into my lap. I hunkered down on my stump, lowered my head and watched them approach.
My setup was just inside the long grass ten feet off the corn with not much frontal cover. A beaver trail ran beneath the honeysuckle to my right which was intended to screen me from the birds as they moved across my hide out affording me a shot as they passed and onto Steve’s position. With the birds moving straight on my invisibility was fully dependent on my ability to remain still. The back of my legs was compressed by the edge of the stump cutting off normal blood flow causing my feet to become slightly numb.
The young turkeys approached the beaver trail making short forays beneath the brush only a few yards from my tingling feet before retreating back to forage on missed kernels. Soon the entire flock of 18 birds was within ten yards of my position. A single shotgun blast could have killed a dozen of them and I had yet to hook the release to the loop or rise from my slump to draw on them.
Moving slowly into a sitting position went unnoticed by the quarry. The draw was smooth, the stops lightly kissed the limbs allowing me to settle into the firm wall anchor and pick a target now just fifteen yards away. It was not a trophy male but a hen. Indecision while shooting is a high percentage way to guarantee a miss so I fixated on the target. Sitting up returned blood flow to my feet making them tingle, a sensation never encountered while training. Forget the distraction, just aim and keep pulling.
The arrow caught the bird in the shoulder breaking its wing rendering it immobile. I nocked another arrow and sent it through the wounded bird’s head finishing it for good. The flock continued moving towards Steve. Not wanting to derail his hunt or potentially walk into a pattern of full choke #4 shot I held the bow and slowly retreated into my slump waiting for Steve to take his bird. Something spooked the flock and they hustled off the field. No boom, just the sound of crows.
The hen weighed in at 17 pounds.
This is my first kill with a bow and the adrenaline hit leading up to the draw was incredible. There is no way to train for this emotional high and arousal except by giving yourself the opportunity to take shots. Can’t hardly wait until the spring.
