Huntin’ Toms along the Little Sioux By Larry Myhre
Reprinted from the Sioux City Journal
There is always a tom turkey somewhere willing to respond to a well-tuned call.
If there’s a hen decoy, they’ll usually strut right in and with the release of an arrow or tripping of a trigger, your tag will be filled.
That happened rather quickly for Jim McDonnell, the guy we call the Fishing Professor, from Royal, Iowa.
The tom hung up about 30 yards out, way too far for a sure kill with a bow, but Jim gave out a quick “gobble” call and that sealed the deal.
The tom came right in and offered Jim and easy 15 yard shot through the legs.
“Shoot them through the legs and they are not going to get up and run away,” Jim said.
“I don’t even like to write about using a gobble call,” Jim said. “Chances are, if another hunter hears it, he will sneak right in and hunt you. But, if you are on private land and sure there are no other hunters around, it will often bring in a reluctant tom.
“It sealed the deal this time,” he smiled.
We were hunting on 370 acres of prime whitetail and turkey habitat owned by Paul and Sheila Thomsen, operators of the Inn Spiration Bed and Breakfast.
There are 220 acres of timber, 75 acres of CRP/WRP and 75 acres of corn, soybeans and food plots on the land. Paul also leases other nearby land for fall hunters.
We were guests at the B & B for three days and hunted turkeys hard. Jim, holding an archery tag, is allowed to take two toms anytime during the four seasons. I was holding a third season shotgun tag.
Morning of the opening of the third season, I set up at the edge of the timber looking out over a narrow strip of CRP with last year’s corn ground in the background. To my left was a well-used trail which came across the dam of a small pond, which held a pair of nesting Canada geese. The trail ducked under a single strand of barbed wire and led right to where I was sitting.
Paul said he has seen turkeys crossing here often.
But, not this day. I heard one gobble right at dawn far away to the southwest and not on our property.
I sat tight and two hens walked across the corn and entered the timber to my right.
Jim was in his blind about a quarter mile away. At 10 a.m., when we joined up, he reported not seeing any turkeys either.
But, he did have some excitement.
“I had just gotten in the blind and poured myself a cup of coffee,” he said. “I made the fly down sound with a paper bag and made a few soft hen yelps.
“As I raised the coffee cup to my lips I noticed a grey blur come charging out of the trees and it hit my turkey fan,” he continued. “It was a nice coyote and as soon as he realized his mistake he took off.
“It happened so quickly I didn’t even have a chance to pick up my bow,” he smiled.
Jim was using a hen decoy and a real turkey feather fan which has a stake attached. The coyote hit the fan and bit off three of the big feathers just as cleanly as if you had cut them with a knife.
We hunted that day and the next and the morning of the third but never got close to another turkey. It had turned hot and windy and the birds weren’t talking, even at dawn.
But the other wildlife we saw was remarkable. One afternoon, sitting in the timber, I watched at least 50 warblers of three or four different kinds flitting among the tree branches. I saw four different kinds of woodpeckers, bluejays, robins, Canada geese, a great egret, woodducks, teal, birds I couldn’t identify, raccoons and, of course, whitetail deer.
Yet, the bird of my desires did not manifest itself. That, however, is turkey hunting.