The spring Wisconsin turkey season really snuck up on us this year as Mother Nature had a very firm grip on us with her never-ending winter storms and no warm-ups in the near future. As the youth season had passed and the first week of the first turkey season approached I took my older son out for a ride on a four wheeler in search of turkey sign. Ultimately, we wanted to locate a spot to set up the blind in hopes of calling in a tom within bow range. –Every year this is an occasion that I look forward to with JD as it gets him looking for wildlife sign and also for “the right spot” to successfully shoot a turkey. This particular spring was different than ones before though as our scouting adventure not only had us travelling through multiple snow banks, but we would ultimately be setting up right in the middle of some white pines where there was at least 8” of snow and ice everywhere. –We didn’t have exceptionally high hopes for the first season, but would nevertheless give it a shot.
The first morning of the season welcomed us with more bitterly cold weather. A hot coffee that my brother, Nick, and hunting companion brought with him was a welcome sight. As we occasionally called and intently listened from the blind on opening morning enjoying our coffee we heard a gobble. That first gobble was followed periodically with another here and there, but the toms didn’t seem to be too serious with the cold weather yet. We ended up seeing two very nice toms, but neither was too love love-stricken and we wrapped up the morning with another cup of hot coffee back at my house.
The winter weather persisted for the next couple of days and actually got worse as a few inches of snow were dumped on us along with some fierce winds. Just as the opening season was looking like it would be a bust a small opportunity opened up as we looked at the forecast as there was no snow and the lows were only supposed to be high 20s. Nick once again met me before sunup and was a savior as he supplied another cup of hot coffee. Within minutes we were getting settled into the blind that had become concave with snow and ice over the prior three days. With a little work we had it restored and the decoys were positioned.
The first (and only) bird of the morning gobbled once right off the roost about two hundred yards out, based off of a pure guess on my part. Within five minutes the tom was down on the ground covering a lot of ground as he gobbled again at a distance I would reasonably estimate at about one hundred yards. Nick and I both began to scourer woods beneath the white pines and I then saw the tom as he puffed up and continued to ease his way toward our calling. He continued on the path of destruction until he got right to the edge of the logging road where we were set up on when he locked onto the hen decoy that was placed about twelve yards from the blind.
From this point forward the tom really didn't break strut for close to an hour. -The point where he locked onto the hen he was only 25 yards away, but as luck would have it there was a big old Norway Pine smack dab between us. We certainly got to see one heck of a show as he continued to strut and spit-drum over and over again. I was down on my knees waiting for a shot on him forever as Nick and I ditched our blind chairs and swapped positions in the blind anticipating a quick shot early in the game. -In fact, my feet both fell asleep at one point and I had to lay into the fetal stretch just to regain circulation. At one point I looked over to Nick and he was in pain as well as he was enduring similar issues.
We tried repeatedly to coax the bird. All that he had to move was a foot or two closer and he would have been clear from the tree with a very nice shot presentation for the bow. (Had we been hunting with a shotgun he would have been shot numerous times, but then again, we would not have seen the show he put on.) Finally, he broke strut and began walking away. -I had one miniature hole to sling an arrow through and I did. –The Montec laced arrow did its job and had a clean pass through at 30 yards. Two big whump-whumps with the big ‘ol boy flapping his wings and it was over.
Upon retrieval and admiring the beautiful tom we discovered one huge spur on one leg while the other looked like it had some frost bite at some point in his life. He had a very nice ten inch beard and weighed in at 22 pounds on the button. In celebration of “spring” and the successful hunt we had we marinated and grilled the bird that very evening. –There were no leftovers!
The first morning of the season welcomed us with more bitterly cold weather. A hot coffee that my brother, Nick, and hunting companion brought with him was a welcome sight. As we occasionally called and intently listened from the blind on opening morning enjoying our coffee we heard a gobble. That first gobble was followed periodically with another here and there, but the toms didn’t seem to be too serious with the cold weather yet. We ended up seeing two very nice toms, but neither was too love love-stricken and we wrapped up the morning with another cup of hot coffee back at my house.
The winter weather persisted for the next couple of days and actually got worse as a few inches of snow were dumped on us along with some fierce winds. Just as the opening season was looking like it would be a bust a small opportunity opened up as we looked at the forecast as there was no snow and the lows were only supposed to be high 20s. Nick once again met me before sunup and was a savior as he supplied another cup of hot coffee. Within minutes we were getting settled into the blind that had become concave with snow and ice over the prior three days. With a little work we had it restored and the decoys were positioned.
The first (and only) bird of the morning gobbled once right off the roost about two hundred yards out, based off of a pure guess on my part. Within five minutes the tom was down on the ground covering a lot of ground as he gobbled again at a distance I would reasonably estimate at about one hundred yards. Nick and I both began to scourer woods beneath the white pines and I then saw the tom as he puffed up and continued to ease his way toward our calling. He continued on the path of destruction until he got right to the edge of the logging road where we were set up on when he locked onto the hen decoy that was placed about twelve yards from the blind.
From this point forward the tom really didn't break strut for close to an hour. -The point where he locked onto the hen he was only 25 yards away, but as luck would have it there was a big old Norway Pine smack dab between us. We certainly got to see one heck of a show as he continued to strut and spit-drum over and over again. I was down on my knees waiting for a shot on him forever as Nick and I ditched our blind chairs and swapped positions in the blind anticipating a quick shot early in the game. -In fact, my feet both fell asleep at one point and I had to lay into the fetal stretch just to regain circulation. At one point I looked over to Nick and he was in pain as well as he was enduring similar issues.
We tried repeatedly to coax the bird. All that he had to move was a foot or two closer and he would have been clear from the tree with a very nice shot presentation for the bow. (Had we been hunting with a shotgun he would have been shot numerous times, but then again, we would not have seen the show he put on.) Finally, he broke strut and began walking away. -I had one miniature hole to sling an arrow through and I did. –The Montec laced arrow did its job and had a clean pass through at 30 yards. Two big whump-whumps with the big ‘ol boy flapping his wings and it was over. 
Upon retrieval and admiring the beautiful tom we discovered one huge spur on one leg while the other looked like it had some frost bite at some point in his life. He had a very nice ten inch beard and weighed in at 22 pounds on the button. In celebration of “spring” and the successful hunt we had we marinated and grilled the bird that very evening. –There were no leftovers!
