- Details
- Category: Turkey
- Published: Tuesday, 17 April 2012 19:19
- Written by Greg
Utah Turkey Hunt
Spring fever had definitely hit as 70+ degree weekend weather greeted us here in the Salt Lake valley.
With only one week remaining before opening day of the Utah turkey hunt, both Colton and I anxiously discussed the details of what would be Colton's first hunt since passing his hunters safety course. My hope was that the weather would hold, meaning that Mother nature would choose not to follow the common practice of dumping snow on an otherwise warm spring.
Friday came, destination Southern Utah. Braving the occasional snow flurry we headed south. Since the regional (actually state wide) forecast called for weekend snow, our cold weather gear was packed as we anticipated bouts of foul weather. Luckily we arrived at our destination in-between squalls and found a camp site where the snow had recently melted, we threw up our tent and settled in.
Just before sunset we headed out from camp on foot to see if we could locate turkeys before nightfall. Our camp was located in a small canyon where a bubbling creek wound its way through thick underbrush that gave way to several big cotton wood trees. This seemed like a perfect spot to find a gobbler who would be looking to roost for the night. Not far from camp we stood looking, listening...hoping to see or hear a turkey. Just as the sun dropped behind the mountain a light snow began to fall. We stood our ground. But within minutes the driving snow began to stick to our clothes, so we ducked under a nearby cedar tree. Within five minutes the snow stopped so we decided to head back to camp. We hadn't taken more than three steps when I looked back over my shoulder saw several turkeys! "Turkeys, get down", I whispered to Colton. As we sat frozen in our tracks, seven turkeys paraded past us at 20 feet!
Lying in our sleeping bags, listening to the sound of turkeys gobbling in the trees just outside of our tent, we recounted the experience of having had seven turkeys with their bright red and blue heads walk within 7 paces of our position...morning couldn't come fast enough!
We had positioned ourselves perfectly, turkeys on the roost 70 yards away. A light dusting of snow soaking into our camo pants became an afterthought as we sat calling to the turkeys. A few clucks and purrs caused an otherwise silent morning to erupt with thunderous gobbles!
With a little coaxing all of the turkeys flew down and proceeded to put on quite a performance, strutting and gobbling just 45 yards in front of us. Even though we had a relatively good view of the show ahead, a clear shot was not possible. For a good ten minutes the creek bottom echoed with gobbles as all seven toms slowly inched toward us. However, all of the gobbling brought some unwanted attention...two hunters were approaching some 50 yards behind us.
It was now or never, all seven gobblers were in the clear at 25 yards! Try as he might, Colton could not seem to single out a lone tom. The flock was either too tightly grouped or a lone strutter would pose and position himself in front of, right next to, or just behind the briefly-solitary birds. Then it happened, busted, the turkeys saw the hunters and were gone before a shot was fired.
But...the story doesn't end there...although we hunted unsuccessfully for the rest of that day and half of the next before picking up camp and heading for home, I had one more ace up my sleeve. It was a long shot, but we had to give it a try.
Forty five minutes later we pulled off the main highway and onto a small dirt road that was lined by oak brush on either side. A few cedar trees dotted the sidehill to the south, an unlikely place for turkeys if you ask me. But in my scouting I had come across this spot three years ago and had seen turkeys. Granted, I had been back to this spot several times since (including once this spring) and had not seen any evidence of turkeys. Nonetheless it was our last hoorah.
We drove no more than 1/2 mile and parked in a little grassy meadow that was surrounded by a mix of scrub oak and maple trees. You can imagine our surprise when the yelps from my box call were greeted by a distant gobble, right up the road from where we had just driven. Excitedly I turned to Colton and reiterated the plan we had made earlier where we decided to shoot simultaneously at the next turkey that presented a shot. Thirty minutes later the big gobbler had closed the distance to a mere 40 yards...just out of sight but gobbling like crazy!
A couple more soft soft clucks and a gentle purr from my call...we held our breath...any second this ol' tom should step out from the concealment of the dense underbrush right into plain sight...there he was...he let out one last gobble as I started the countdown...one, two, boom!
What an adventure...blizzard like conditions, turkeys as close as 20 feet, gobbling turkeys roosting right outside our tent, seven strutting gobblers at 25 yards, thirty minutes of anticipation as a far off tom gobbled his way to us, experiencing Colton's first hunt and a life time of memories!