Eating calf nuts would be just so wrong on so many levels Don. Now Rocky Mountain Oysters - that is hors d'oeuvre fit for a king. And we ate like kings....
I had big plans for this trip. I wanted badly to take a turkey with my bow without the use of a blind. I had tried last year without success, and again this spring in Wisconsin. After reading as much as I could and picking Joey's brain for all it was worth, I thought that I had a good plan. A Waldrop pacseat, a Ghillie longhunter coat, and a Hidden Draw bow blind would make up my system. A new Avian X hen decoy coupled with a Spin N Strut jake would bring them within range. Or so I thought.
One thing I hadn't taken into consideration was the difference in vegetation between Wisconsin and Nebraska. My ghillie was mainly light colored, and the majority of the cover in Nebraska consisted of dark colored cedars. It soon became apparent that turkeys could tell the difference.
The afternoon that we arrived Nick took Julian and I for a ride to show us where we would head the next morning. Nick knows the turkeys on his land on a first name basis, and told us that about 30 of them would roost in a big old cottonwood in the bottom of a draw. And the next morning that is exactly what we found.
The tallest tree in the left center of this picture shows the roost tree.
Julian went high, and I took the bottom. It was still plenty dark and turkeys were already sounding off from the tree. I got set up and tucked back in under a cedar and listened to more turkey talk than I had ever heard in my life!
As daylight came the birds were anxious to get about their business. I watched as one after another pitched out of the trees. Unfortunately, they went out on the top side but away from where Julian had set up. I did have 8 hens feed past my spot, but they seemed nervous as they went by. The majority of the birds filtered across the hillside and were soon out of sight and hearing.
Later that morning I spotted a lone longbeard cruising the opposite hillside. A few yelps from the Wooden Hen scratch box had him headed my way. As he hit the bottom he puffed up and strutted directly toward my decoys. This guy was hot, and he was coming!
At 40 yards he stopped and his head came up, giving the evil eye to my set up. Down went the strut, and he headed back up the hill, gobbling as he went.