2023 Turkey Hunt
The snow was still three feet deep on the south facing slopes, and in the meadows the sunshine didn’t hit. As I snuck towards the ridge line to drop down on the turkeys I sank thigh, and in some places even waist deep in the slushy snow. Winter still held on as Spring was here according to the calendar. I’ve always heard of hunters harvesting turkeys at snow-line in the high country, and here I was giving it a go for myself. Leading up to this year I have spent the past few years hunting turkeys hard with my bow and arrow, determined to harvest my first the hardest way possible. I even shot at a few turkeys but missed each time. I also spent those year’s focusing on guiding friends, family and clients and found success in doing so.
Guiding others in the field has always been in my blood as oftentimes I would put my hunting time aside to help others try and fill their tags, but without any clients this year it felt good knowing I had a month and a half to try and get it done just for me.
A flock of turkeys were roosting along the river in the tall cottonwood tress but were on private land. With there still being so much snow the turkeys were constantly on the move as they fed on the grasses and berries that were blooming in the small patches under the pines. A few days prior to harvesting my Tom, Sean and I found this flock and made an attempt to fill Seans tag but unfortunately he missed. We went back a couple days later but found it nearly impossible to get in any closer than 50 yards as the deep snow created a barrier between us and them. I was determined to get into their bubble and harvest this beautiful tom with my bow.
I made a plan to get into their feeding area before light and as I did so I could hear several Toms gobbling from the cottonwoods down river. I set up my decoys and acted like a hen calling for some attention. After about an hour of talking back and forth the flock made themselves known as they cruised along the ridge line, dropping down into the field, right in front of me. Sitting as still as possible I held my bow ready for my opportunity. The Tom was at 60 yards fanned out and struttin away, showing off his magnificent feathers. The borderline of private land was just right behind him and I didn’t feel confident in my shot, so I didn’t take it. I was hopeful they would come closer but they did the opposite and used the private land to move off and back up the ridge. As I sat there and soaked in the moment I thought to myself, how many people in the world get to experience something so raw as this? It’s truly an honor anytime I am able to be present and so close to wild animals without them knowing I am there.
Later that afternoon I headed back out and was thrilled to see the turkeys back in the field. Climbing over the barbwire fence I climbed the hill to drop in on the backside in hopes to get a shot at the turkeys. I chose to bring the shotgun along this time as I would rather put meat in the freezer than eat turkey soup once again. Reaching the treeline I could see the turkeys feeding below me. It was go time. The hillside was slippery from the snow melting as I slid down the hill. Small rocks came loose and crashed down the steep patch of timber. Cringing I hoped the turkeys didn’t hear this, and so I stopped to make sure they were still there. Busy feeding about they had no idea I was sneaking up on them. Reaching the bottom of the hill I ever so slowly took off my pack, as the flock started to feed towards an opening. Pulling up the 12 gauge, my short arms had a hard time reaching the pump action and it was difficult to hold the gun steady. I needed to find a more stable way of taking a shot. Ranging the birds they were at 50 yards.
An old stump with some overgrowth was just to my right, offering a perfect spot for me to rest the gun on and to take a prone shot from. The Tom must have sensed some movement and for five minuets he stared in my direction. Slowing my breath I sat as still as possible and soon he was back to feeding. As the turkeys heads were down I slowly crawled up to the stump and got set up. Resting the shotgun on the stump, and securing it to my shoulder, I was as steady as I could get. All I needed was for the Tom to take a few more steps from behind the branches that were obscuring my shot. Looking down the barrel I lined the beed up with the base of his head and waited. Time stands still in these moments and every move you make matters. I felt like a mountain lion stalking its prey, being patient, waiting for the perfect opportunity. And then it presented itself. Hearing my dads voice in my head, just like I always do before I shoot a weapon, he was reminding me to take a big breath, and as I breathe out to slowly pull the trigger.
BOOM the shotgun blast kicked hard against my shoulder as the turkey dropped dead in its tracks. I was elated! My very first turkey harvest. The more I utilize the spot and stalk method in the field, the more I fall in love with the technique. It comes down to making the right decisions, and not giving away your location. I couldn’t wait to see him up close, and when I did I was blown away by his beauty. Please enjoy some photos below of this stunning bird.
