The Sisterhood of the Traveling Turkey
One by one the ladies pulled into hunting camp. We hugged and took a moment to met one another.The energy was bubbly as they quickly got their gear into the cabin they would share for the weekend. Pilling into the truck we headed out to make sure their shotguns were good to go, and to try and roost a turkey. As we drove down the bumpy gravel road, silence was nowhere to be found as hands grabbed onto the head rest, and conversations from the front to the back, and across the back seat all went down at once. I smiled to myself, knowing these ladies were all strangers just an hour ago, and here we were, talking as if we had been friends for years.
We were off to a great start for this turkey hunting weekend.
Driving past a small section of private land by the river, the turkeys comfortably enjoyed the fenced yard, gobbling and strutting in front of us. In a split second the decision to ask for permission to hunt these turkeys, had the truck pulling into the gravel driveway. Knocking on the front door, but only greeted by two barking dogs inside, I decided I would write a letter and leave it at the door step. We headed on up the canyon in hopes of finding or hearing some turkeys that we could focus on for tomorrows hunt, but came up empty handed. As we descended the hill we were anxious to see if the private land owners had messaged me back yet.
Once again as we drove past their beautiful home nestled under cottonwoods, a hen was just crossing the road, headed towards the cottonwoods next to a lush green meadow and the river. We had found where they were roosting, and I gobbled back and forth with the tom up high in the tree. Headlights pulled up behind us, and we saw our opportunity to make the best impression so tomorrow morning we’d be able to hunt these turkeys. We chatted with the landowner, and she was friendly, but quickly shot us down when I asked her, her thoughts on us hunting a small piece of her property. She informed me these were “kind of her birds, like her friends...” I wasn’t surprised by this answer as I’ve seen these turkeys feed from a food hanger they had in their front yard. Basically it came down to, these turkeys were her wild pets, and she didn’t want anything to jeopradize that. “I’ll talk to my husband, and see what his thoughts are, but I’m sure he’s gong to stand where I am on this.” she told us. We thanked her, and headed back up the mountain for a hot plate of food.
The night was soon getting late and we made our way to the sleeping quarters. Hearing my phone ping, I saw a message from Marjanna that she had talked to her husband regarding us hunting their land, and he said he was okay with that, but that he just wanted to talk with me first. Running outside, hooting and hollering, I yell at the girls that it was about to go down! We had gotten permission to hunt the river bottom turkeys but only after talking with Richard first.
The next mornings plan was to hike up a canyon and hunt the private land that bordered Bear Creek. It would be roughly a 3.5 mile hike in, and as we set foot forward our weapons in hands, the conversations hadn’t seem to stop. The trail was easy going and the sound of the rushing creek brought a meditative hum that bounced off the canyon walls. Stopping in our tracks a side creek ran over what was once the trail. I walked up the creek a bit to see if there were any passable spots for safe crossong, but there wasn’t. I made the call and we headed back down the trail. We would go into town to grab a coffee and try and touch base with Richard on hunting his private land.
A bubbly and positive group of gals that wouldn’t let a rushing creek stop them from having an amazing time.
We pulled up to a small crafty coffee shop, filled with beautiful pastries and local art. I’ve always been intimidated by calling private land owners, asking for permission to step foot onto their land, for all the times I had tried I was quickly rejected. As I chatted with Richard I informed him of my many years of hunting and guiding under my belt and ultimately safety was always the number one concern. In exchange I welcomed Richard and Marjanna to use Bear Creek’s private property to get out on their horses any time during the summer. It felt good to have such an honest and open conversation with a private land owner, as we know in Colorado private land land locks an insane amount of national forest and many times, they despise hunters.
With some time to kill we headed out to explore some country a local old man told us about at the coffee shop. The valley was busting with life and color, and we were all amazed by the beauty of it as we oooooed and awwwwwed at this and that, our fingers pointing out the window. More private land lay ahead of us, turning our course to the right down a road filled with deep potholes. Slowly crawling along I stop the truck and pull up my binoculars. A tom, all puffed up was showing off, just a few hundred yards away on private land, so we made a decision to try and get on the other side of the creek, just a quick and easy hike in.
Before I get too deep into the story of the sisterhood of the traveling turkey, I want to share a bit more about the conversations that never seemed to end. Between the five women sitting in my truck, we all come from different backgrounds, different careers, we all have different goals, and we all had seem to have a certain time of struggle in our lives. Stories of vulnerability brought tears to our eyes, and in the end we all were on the same page of support and encouragement. It felt so refreshing to be in such energy, such outlook on life. There was no judgment, no competition. As the stories continued to unfold between us all, a sisterhood had found its place, just in time for we would soon cross a raging creek in pursuit of the merriam turkey.
Parking the truck we jump out, and safely load our weapons for the hike in. The energy was still bubbly, in fact it was the entire weekend. Leading the way we descend a steep hillside, following fresh tracks from an elk herd that previously passed through here. Reaching a small flow that broke off from the creek, I tell the ladies to hold tight, and that I’d check to see if there once again, was any safe places to cross. The creek was clear with cold water that was just snow 24 hrs prior, and I found a spot where it looked like the safest and easiest place to cross. My heart suddenly started to race as I made my way back to the ladies. Having being a river guide for 10 summers I have a certain fear of water, a fear that brings respect to such a powerful source. As a group we check out the creek and I even go down to the waters edge and cross over and back, to show, it isn’t as hard as it makes itself lookout to be. We all find two sticks and one by one cross the river. I cross first, drop my pack and head back to grab Lacee’s recurve. Turning around to head back to help the others I am blown away by the sheer empowerment that exploded in this moment. One by one the ladies cross, focused on their step placement, their strong legs leading the way. High fives and words of encouragement are exchanged, clearly our wet boots and pants didn’t phase us. “Funny that this doesn’t happen when your out in the woods with your man… It almost comes across as intimidating or, your taking too long to cross, as they wait on the shoreline staring silently at you..” Someone mentioned. We all agreed that all it takes, is supportful engagement in tense moments, that make it that much more enjoyable…... “The things that happen when you go into the hunting field with other women…” I mention as we continue on.
The afternoon sun was hot, and the creek was loud, creating it nearly impossible to hear a tom gobble. We decided to head back to camp and to hunt the private land that evening.
This hunt was one of the most free flowing, easy going hunts I’ve ever been on. There was no expectations, we simply worked with every situation that was put in front of us. As we drove down that road filled with deep potholes, we noticed a worker in the private field we had just seen those turkeys on.. Once again, the decision was made to pull up and ask for permission, or for the contact of the land owner. Pulling up, we all hop out, and a bigger man in dirty jeans jumps down from his backhoe as I asked him if he knew the owner of this property. Pointing back behind him he tells us, “your looking at him.”
I’m sure it was a sight to see, as old man Larry slid out of his drivers seat, a group of five women dressed in camo and messy buns, with big smiles on their faces walking towards him. It turns out Larry had guided hunts on every mountain peak that surrounded us for 20+ years, and was about to say goodbye to this beautiful land which was under contract. Larry wasn’t too happy about having to sell the land, but ultimately he was one of 5 brothers and his vote didn’t match up to theirs. I could see the emotion in Larrys face we he informed me they would be moving to Delta soon. When we first asked Larry about hunting this chunk of breathtaking land, he informed us he was saving it for his god children to come and hunt turkeys on, and if it wasn’t for them, we would have his full permission. We thanked him regardless and I went into some speal about how the women standing in front of him, had never killed a turkey, that several of them were completely new to the sport, and that we were happy to meet him regardless of his answer. Larrys answer instantly changed, and he said if anyone were to give us grief for hunting his land, that they could bring it up with Larry. Smiles filled all our faces, and it almost felt like I should have hugged him. We chatted a bit more, and said our goodbyes, each one of us nearly bursting into tears as we walked away. We had all fallen in love with Larry.
A delicious lunch of bbq sandwiches and ciders was enjoyed under the warm sun. The energy between us ladies had become electrified, which was made clear by the amount of people watching us, and asking us what we were hunting. We talked about more hard things, and even better things in life, as we waited for our food. Feeling recharged and hopeful we headed back to Larrys property for an evening sit.
The evening was windy as we watched a hen feed on the far side of the field, and a couple young elk stampeding through after smelling our scent. Arriving back at the truck we see the tom roosted in a cottonwood far off, he would live another day.
We now had a solid plan for the morning. We would hunt the private river bottom, setting up under the cottonwoods the turkeys were roosted in. The moon was bright and gave us light as we made our way to the grassy field by the river. Every lady set up 50-60 yards from each other, covering most of the field. The sunrise hadn’t happened yet, but it was just get light enough to see when I saw the tom roosting right above us. We were in the perfect position, it was just a matter of waiting till they flew down from the branches above. The tom started to gobble back to back, letting the flock know it was almost time to get up for the day. It felt like in a matter of minutes the next scene played out. One hen flew down and was feeding about, chirping away on one end of the field, when suddenly more hens were down feeding just below the tree of the tom. The turkeys were traveling across the field towards the fenced-in area we couldn’t hunt, and they would walk right past us doing so. The big tom had flown straight to the edge of the road and Lacee was unable to get a shot at him with her recurve, but several jakes and hens were now walking right past Carmel and Nuaora. It was just a matter of time until a jake presented a shot……… and BOOM! At just 20 yards the turkeys walk past Nuaora and she made perfect shot! It was the icing on the cake.
There in the middle of the field we celebrated the life of this young turkey as it would feed Nuaora, and cherished the sweet taste of working so hard and finally being rewarded.
If this hunting story has left you in inspired and your seeking connection such as this sisterhood, please join me and the women currently signed dup, for the Women’s Big Game 101 Clinic at Bear Creek Outfitters July 14th-17th. We we will be covering navigation 101, how and when to glass for wild game, reading maps, getting our boots on the ground and seeing first hand what an elk bedroom looks like, along with pack essentials for a one-three day hunt, and how to scout from the comforts of your home to bring more success to field. It’s going to be a blast I can guarantee you that. OnX Maps had donated a year premium membership to everyone who signs up, and Mtn Ops has donated a tote of rehydration/focus packs to add to your water bottle when in the field. Let’s grow and connect, and run around the mountains of southern Colorado together.
You can sign up by clicking on Menu> Women’s Big Game 101 Clinic
Thank you for following along on What’s Your Wild. As summer approaches, so does the work up here on the ranch to get everything squared away for the fall hunting season. I look forward to a summer filled with archery shoots, clinics, hard work, dirt under the nails, creek swims, and endless hours glassing.
Much love,
Draya.