Maine Turkey Camp 2009

[Coalman]

A few years ago on a weekend turkey scouting trip to Maine I passed by a camp for lease on a local lake. It was that day an idea for turkey camp was hatched.

So I started a land search. Every piece of property I found was either a swamp or they wanted a gold mind for it. My wife was never in favor of a purchase. But I continued to dream.

In a casual conversation with a co-worker I learned she had two acres in my promised land. Through her generous offer to use the land as my own turkey camp was born.

I feel blessed. The Lord works in mysterious ways.

Maine Turkey Camp 2009 was year of firsts
BIL with his first solo gobbler.


BIL and TS79. Turkeystalker79's first solo adult gobbler.


DWS's first bird ever.


Thunderchicken's first Maine, hard earned, rainy day, mountain bird.


After a rough start with "bent barrel syndrome" I used BIL's Encore.


And shot my first gobbler with a scoped shotgun.

[Merrillizer™]

AWESOME pics. I hadda add one up on the front page.

[Roccus]

Good hunt, awesome pictures..

[HarryG]

You are the man Dave

[Coalman]

Maine Turkey Camp 2009
Day One
This was the first year Maine allowed all permit holders to hunt the whole season. The season used to go by your birth year. It alternated between odd and even and then you were given certain weeks to hunt.

I decided on Inch And A Half Hill (IAAHH) due to how remote it was. This was my first year to hunt there and I had only scouted it once. I had heard birds in there and after walking the ground had a good idea on how to get in undetected.

As I have aged and my turkey hunting experience has grown I have become good at “Find the right land and the turkey will come.” Inch And A Half Hill had all the qualities it was named after.

I got to the entrance of IAAHH as the sky was lightening in the east. Good thing I stopped to listen before committing. Two jakes were guarding Sucker Brook and the back door into IAAHH. There was another jake roosted to my left so another plan was in order as not to spook these three turkey.

Some I hiked back about a quarter mile and decided on the front door in. The partridge drumming was coming from 360. Had a couple close encounters that scared me as only a partridge can do as you are silent footing it in to set up.
By the time I got off the trail it was light. A gobbler started sounding off in the front door. He was walking and gobbling and heading to the base of IAAHH. I let him pass and opened the door in.

He was real easy to keep tabs on. Gobble Gobble, Gobble Gobble. I knew I had to get above him so I stalked my way up the point. Just as I reached the living room I was greeted by another gobbler.

Let me back up and tell you that the time I had been scouting in IAAHH with my BIL I had looked at the lay of the land and could tell where if I were a gobbler I would sound off my wares. There was a long oak flat facing an adjoining mountain. It was all scratched up. I knew from hunting mountain birds this was the place for a tom to advertise. Now not 100 yards below me a tom had taken my spot.

He was roaring on his own facing the mountain. I knew I would only get one chance at this. I wanted that bird for the efforts of studying the maps and the physical challenge it was to get here.

He would gobble, I would sneak. All this time the woods were alive with other gobblers. But the one below me had all my attention.

It took a while of gobble and sneak to find just the right set up. I was above his flat and on the top of IAAHH. I let Old Boss Hen take over.

He demanded respect with my first few series of calls. If I wanted him I had to come. That really PO’d Old Boss Hen. So she told him by cutting in no certain way that was going to happen. It wasn’t long and he was coming on a string.

OK gun up, safety off and pointing gun down through the hardwoods. All I can hear is spitting and drumming and it is close.

Wouldn’t you know it? Open hardwood in front of me. Brush and blow down to the left and he comes from my left. In an instant he had me pegged and just turned away. Coalman swings gun left, turkey moves to the right and boom.

Last time I saw him he was winging to the adjoining mountain. I missed him. My jaw got full of dirt as it hit the forest floor. I had done it. Mapped a gobbler by the lay of the land, snuck into his lair, called him on a string and missed. 0700 opening day and it could have been over.

I spent a lot of time that morning on IAAHH after my mishap. It is so beautiful in there I didn’t want to leave. Reality set in after a while and I went trolling for the birds I had heard at Sucker Brook during my failed courtship. I spent the rest of the morning over on Dad’s Mountain. I didn’t hear another gobble the rest of the day.

At least I got to take a picture of the woodcock chicks on the way out. They really lifted my spirit. And did I mention the grouse drumming? This old homestead with see a Springer or two this fall. All was not lost.

So Coalman, welcome to turkey hunting. And as the week went by it would happen again. But that is a story for day three.