Sharing an unforgettable hunt with my brother

You know what’s better than having a successful hunt? Getting to share that hunt with somebody else.

For the first time in over a decade, I enjoyed my first successful hunt with somebody else, and what an experience it was.

After an unsuccessful solo week on several public properties, my brother, Sawyer — who went along as a caller — and I hit the family private land woods in Chippewa County on May 7 in search for a bearded turkey.

We deployed a similar tactic to when I harvested a bird in 2018, walking about 50 yards into the property and listening to the first gobbles of the morning before choosing which birds to go after.

The gobbles were few and far between on the low 40-degree morning, and a bit of doubt started to creep in for me.

We decided to head toward where a majority of the gobbles, but as we approached, we realized the gobbling birds were on the other side of the creek that runs down the west portion of the property.

A year ago, the birds would always start on the east side of the creek before pitching across it and heading to a neighbor’s cow pasture, so I knew there was a chance they could cross the water and come to us, but I still wasn’t super confident.

I set up my $4 hen decoy and we settled in.

“This has to be the worst setup of my life,” I said as I sat down, with just my head up against a slanted tree trunk.

The gobbling was decent on the limb, but we also heard hen clucks mixed in, so I knew we needed to pull the hens across the creek if we wanted to punch a tag.

After flying down at about 5:40 a.m., the birds began to work away from us, so I decided to have Sawyer toss in a few clucks to try and peak the bird’s interest.

It worked, as a bunch of birds started to vocalize with us and move closer to the creek.

After throwing in some jake yelps and excited hen yelps, a dominant tom established his presence, gobbling several times within a minute and chasing off some jakes.

“Should we turn around?” asked my brother, as we were facing an open area instead of the actual gobbles.

“No, we should be good. They’ll swing one way or the other. I don’t think they’ll just barrel right through.” I answered.

Within a couple minutes, I heard a turkey fly across the water and land behind us. Then a second bird and finally a third.

I twisted my head so I could see over my right shoulder and saw a pair of hens and a tom closely behind.

They were indeed swinging to one side of us, and I thought the hunt was about to be over as they only needed to come another 10-15 yards to be in the open where my shotgun was pointed.

But in typical turkey hunting fashion, the hens got nervous, began putting and turned around.

To my surprise, the tom stayed and began spitting, drumming and displaying just 10 yards behind us.

The tom clearly saw my decoy, but he wasn’t about to ditch his live hens. He was committed to having the decoy come to him, which obviously was impossible, so the standoff began.

For about the next 40 minutes, the tom put on a show while only moving about 10-15 feet. He didn’t gobble again until a crow flew over, but was spitting, drumming and displaying as his head changed from one color of the flag to the next.

For the longest time, I forgot my brother was sitting just a couple feet behind me and to my left, as he didn’t make a peep.

What made the experience even crazier is that my brother didn’t realize the tom was that close for about 20 of those minutes. I had tried to tell him what spitting and drumming sounds like, but it’s hard to really recognize unless you’ve heard a real turkey do it.

With my neck and back tightening up and legs completely numb, I decided to make a move after about 30 minutes. I somehow went undetected as I laid down flat on my back before twisting around to face the tom.

I realized about halfway through the move that it was still too thick in the woods to pull off a shot, but remained in the awkward position anyway.

After another 10 minutes, several other birds had started gobbling, so I decided it was time to end the encounter one way or another. If I scared the tom or missed, we’d simply go after another.

“I think I’m going to try and sit up and shoot this bird,” I whispered.

I thought the tom heard me talking as he broke strut. I figured I was busted, but instead, the tom began walking to the left and toward the open area. Not wanting to wait any longer, I found an opening within the woods that I could shoot through and waited for his head to appear in it.

Boom!

“Go see if I got him, I can’t move my legs,” I said.

Sawyer ran toward the bird, but because it didn’t flop, couldn’t see it at first.

“Where is it?” he asked as he scanned the woods.

“Check by that log,” I said.

After finding the 21 pound, 44 inch long bird that had a 9 3/4 inch beard, 1 1/4 inch spurs and a few feathers missing from the middle portion of his tail fan, the best moment of the hunt occurred.

Sawyer turned around and proceeded to wrap me in the biggest bear hug ever. It instantly was among the most memorable hunting moments I’ve ever had.

Sawyer was more excited than I was in that moment, and that’s saying something if you know me and my love and passion for turkey hunting.

Pictures, smiles and high fives capped the hunt and put a stamp on a truly unforgettable hunt.

Morgan Rode is the sports editor for the Shawano Leader. Readers can contact him at sports@newmedia-wi.com.