TSA flagged my carry-on as I stepped through the metal detector. I could see several folks crowded around, pointing, and discussing something on the screen. A woman dressed in a blue uniform with blue latex gloves picked up my duffle bag, carried it to a stainless steel table, and set it down with authority. The x-ray image of my duffle bag and it’s contents appeared on the TV screen above the table.

In a slow thick Texas drawl, the TSA agent took her pen and pointed it at the screen. “Sweetie, what is this mass right here in your bag?”

“Oh, that’s two frozen turkey breasts, ma’am”

“And what are these objects?”

“Those are his feet.”

“Thank you sir. You may go.”

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We had driven a long way and were many hours from civilization. I stood surveying the campsite where we had camped in years past. And suddenly it dawned on me. I had forgotten my tent.

I could see it in my minds eye, that lonely tubular tent bag, sitting all along on my garage floor like a lost child. And while it sat there with so much wasted potential 6 hours away, I stood, in my campsite with a dumb look on my face, feeling foolish and knowing that I could be paying a serious price should the wind pick up and/or the weather turn. Pride wouldn’t let me snuggle into a one man tent with my hunting buddy. So I rolled my sleeping bag out on my inflatable pad and borrowed the Tyvek ground sheet for the one tent that was brought on the hunting trip. I tried to think positive thoughts.

After an 8 mile scouting hike, a shot of bourbon, and an ambian, I snuggled in to my sleeping bag and closed my eyes. I slept like a baby under that Tyvek sheet.

We got lucky and killed two turkeys opening day and were on our way home by 2 pm. It was a good turkey season.

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The afternoon before turkey season opened, we got the truck stuck in a snowdrift that covered the road on the way to our camp spot. It took us several hours of digging and hauling logs and rocks in order to finally free the truck. By the time we finally pitched our tents and built a fire, the sun was going down and the temps were dipping towards freezing, so we opted to fill our bellies with red meat, potatoes, and a nip of bourbon.

The next day unfolded about as perfectly as any day of turkey hunting can, which was great since we love to hunt using rifles and even bows as the ones you can see in this Review here. I screwed up our first setup on a tom gobbling his head off, but our second setup worked out pretty well. Austin shot a real nice mature bird that came into our mid morning setup. After cleaning his gobbler up and getting ready for the packout, we decided to make another set up on our way out. After a hen came clucking in, a young jake wandered in from the opposite direction. I couldn’t resist and knocked him down for a nice double bird day.

It’s not often that things work out like this on this hunt. I felt blessed to have a successful hunt and still have the weekend to spend with my family. After cleaning and stowing gear, it seems like a long time until the fall hunting seasons kick back on.

The post Arizona Turkey Hunting: Daily Double appeared first on Arizona Wanderings.

The short flight on the tiny 8 person Cesna from St. Louis to Kirksville touched down hard and bumped along the run way towards a small building. The co-pilot turned around in his seat with a big smile and said “welcome to Kirksville.” The countryside that I had seen from the air was a maze of rolling crop and grazing fields, separated by vast swaths of timber – turkey country. My good buddy Hunter was waiting in his truck as I collected my bag and made my way out of the airport terminal. After a quick handshake and back slap, we were on our way down the road to roost some turkeys for the next morning.

For the next four days, I received a crash course in Hillbilly 101 as we called to turkeys, hunted for mushrooms, drank around the campfire and pulled off ticks. Life in Missouri is simple. Work hard, go hunting, help each other, and then go hunting again. I was overwhelmed with the hospitality of Hunter and the folks that he introduced me to. My goal for the trip was to shoot a mature Eastern tom, and as any turkey hunter will tell you, the best laid plans often go awry. For the first two days we hunted our tails off and danced the dance of sitting, calling, and stalking pressured turkeys. We had a couple of close calls, but luck was not on our side.

Our patience was finally rewarded on day three when we found a strutting tom in the back corner of a large field with a small flock of hens. He was clearly a dominant bird who showed off for his harem. After watching him for a few moments through the binoculars, Hunter broke out his strutting gobbler decoy, and we belly crawled about 300 yards across the field behind the decoy. The male bird was pretty upset that our decoy would have the audacity to try and steal his ladies, and he half strutted half ran his way across 400 yards to let us know his displeasure. When he made it to 45 yards out, I peaked my shotgun out from behind the decoy, calmed my breathing while picking a spot on his wattles, and squeezed off a shot. When the smoke cleared, I ran up to find a beautiful specimen of an Eastern turkey and my feet. I could hardly believe what had just happened. With a quick prayer of thanks, we tagged the bird and admired his spurs, beard, and iridescent plumage. For two days our patience and positive outlooks were tested, and to be honest, doubt had begun to creep into my mind that third morning. But with persistence, a good hunting buddy, and a little bit of luck, everything came together.

The next morning, Hunter and I were back in the same area, looking for a bird for him to put a tag on. A morning rain foiled our initial setup, but birds started to pop up in the fields once it cleared. We glassed up a mature tom strutting on the tree line and after a quick stalk, Hunter also filled his tag. It was a surreal way to end my time in Missouri. There is no substitute for being in the field with a like minded hunting partner. Thanks to Hunter and all the fine folks I met while in Missouri. Between the hospitality of the people and the beauty of the countryside, I feel blessed to have experienced the best that Missouri has to offer.

Post Script ~ Although we were hunting as friends, Hunter spends most of his spring guiding for turkeys and fall guiding for waterfowl. He’s got years of experience and I learned a ton from hunting with him this week. If you are in the Midwest and looking to book a hunt, give Hunter Bender a shout. Another plug I want to throw out there is to Rick and Drake Morris at The Turkey Roost taxidermy shop. Hunter and I would spend the afternoon lounging around their taxidermy shop, laughing, talking hunting, and  watching them work. If you are looking to have a turkey mounted, these guys have one numerous state and national awards and are the real deal. 

The post Missouri Turkey Hunting: Eastern Gobblers appeared first on Arizona Wanderings.

It’s been a long time coming. Truth be told I’ve had a tag for the past six years and have spent quite a few weekends hiking, scouting, calling, and waiting. I’ve suffered rain, snow, unspeakable winds, missed opportunities and blown chances on my Arizona turkey hunting journey, but ultimately, I wouldn’t change anything about how my turkey hunt has unfolded over the years.

This year, everything came together on the last morning of the hunt, when that Merriam’s gobbler stepped out in the opening. Walking back to the truck with that heavy bird over my shoulder, I said a prayer of thanks for that turkey’s life, and for a good hunting buddy who helped put me in the right place at the right time.

Right now as I write this post, all I can think about is turkey and stuffing…and turkey sandwiches…and turkey chili…and turkey pot pie…

The post Arizona Turkey Hunting: A long time coming appeared first on Arizona Wanderings.

Wild turkey chili is one of my favorite dishes that my mother used to make on those cold winter evenings back in the Adirondacks. The greatest thing is that this is one wild game dish that my wife cannot resist.

Preparation:

1. Brine Turkey for 8-12 hours (great article here on the NWTF page.)

2. Season and cook turkey

Wild Turkey Chili Ingredients-

2 Tablespoons of olive oil

1 large onion

2 teaspoons of cumin

5 cloves of garlic minced

2 chopped jalapenos

8 oz can of jalapenos with juice

4-4.5 cups of chicken broth

1+ pound of cooked turkey

3 cans of cannellini beans (drained and rinsed)

2 Tablespoons of minced oregeno

1/3 cup of fresh cliantro

1/4 cup of cornmeal

Shredded Monterey Jack cheese, sour cream, and lime wedges for serving

1. Saute onion in oil, salt and pepper until softened (5-7 minutes)

2. Add cumin, garlic, and jalapenos

3. Transfer to slow cooker and add 3.5 cups of broth

4. Mix cornmeal with .5 cups of broth. Stir into soup

5. Cover and cook for 3 hours. Thin with more broth if desired.

The post Wild Turkey Chili appeared first on Arizona Wanderings.

Friday – I woke at 3 AM to what sounded like a hundred coyotes right outside my tent. Although I knew I was safe, I still reached over and felt the cold steel pistol which brought me comfort. A half hour later, I shivered my way into my cold hunting clothes and drove over the washboard road to my predestined spot. Once out of the truck, I shrugged into my turkey vest, double checked to make sure I had everything and waited quietly. Before the sun came up, I heard the first gobble.

I slipped my way into the woods and set up about 150 yards from where the turkeys were gobbling. After setting up my decoy, I scraped away the noisy leaves and sat with my back against a big juniper where I would be nice and comfortable. I called periodically, occasionally glancing at my watch so as not to call too often. The sound of a softly putting turkey sneaking in behind me, caused my muscles to tighten and my breathing to quicken. The small hen walked confidently up to the decoy and stopped only a foot away, cocking her head to the side curiously. She mulled around, pecking at the ground before finally working her way silently into the forest.

The gobblers continued to sound off every time I clucked and purred on the little push-button call, but as far as I could tell, they never came closer than a hundred yards. The first morning of turkey season, and probably my best chance at bagging a tom, slipped away.

I will not bore you with the details of a very uneventful evening, wandering ridges and hammering away on a box call into the howling wind.

Saturday – I woke early on Saturday, and my friend Tom and I headed out to check out a different section of woods. Aside from some early morning gobbling, things were pretty uneventful. The crowds were out in full force and we must have seen at least a dozen other trucks and hunters throughout the day. We saw plenty of sign and even came across a well used turkey dusting area.

I spent the evening scouting some different areas trying to locate birds, but the higher winds made calling very difficult if not impossible.

Sunday – The previous two mornings had showed me that if I was going to have any success, morning was going to be the best time. Tom and I again headed out early and found some very vocal birds. I climbed the ridge they were roosting on and stalked in to about 100 yards and set up. Two gobblers gobbled their fool heads off at my calls and at nothing at all. I heard them fly down, gave one more set of calls, and shut up. Seconds passed and I expected them to come walking through the woods at any moment, but nothing, They continued to gobble about 100 yards in front of me and for the next hour and a half, I periodically switched up calls but to no avail. Finally the woods got quiet and I waited another hour for something to happen.

With the sun high in the sky, I walked up about a quarter mile to scout the rest of the ridge. I was working my way through trees when I heard a rustle to my left. I froze and slowly turned to see two red heads about 80 yards away. The one gobbler continued to walk parallel to me, and as he cleared the log, I could see his beard. After they disappeared from sight, I sat down and waited. After 15 minutes or so, I started calling again, but for the next hour, neither saw nor heard a thing.

With a pretty wife waiting at home, I cut my losses and drove back to the Valley of the Sun.

Score: Turkeys – 3, Me – 0

Turkey hunting is tough here in AZ. I’m convinced that it is about 25% skill and 75% being lucky and in the right spot. If your heading out in the near future here in AZ, my only advice is find that turkey early in the morning and try and get yourself in between him and where you think he is headed. I did not have much luck with calling anything in. If you’ve been out or had some success, I’d love to hear the story. Best of luck.

The post Arizona Turkey Hunting Report appeared first on Arizona Wanderings.

The folks over at Filson were kind enough to run another short article I wrote on gearing up for turkey season. Fingers crossed for a good season this year.

“With turkey season right around the corner here in Arizona, I’ve begun the process of pouring over maps, doing a bit of scouting, and organizing gear for opening weekend. As I started to gather some essentials, here are five key pieces of gear that are critical for success during turkey season.

A well-patterned shotgun:

Arguably the most important piece of equipment is your shotgun…”

Read the rest of this article over at Filson

The post Gearing Up For Turkey Season: A Filson Guest Post appeared first on Arizona Wanderings.

Archery season opened on Friday, and while I went to work, my buddies were already sitting in their treestands. When quitting time came, my truck pointed north in order to leave the blazing desert sand behind and before dark, it climbed the bumpy forest road to camp. The guys had seen a couple of doe here and there, and some had seen turkeys through the ponderosas, but their turkey tags had been filled during the spring hunt. After a few very slow seasons with a couple of blown opportunities, I was itching to get into my stand in the morning.

I beat daylight to my hunting blind and when I checked my phone it read 5:00. After organizing my few essentials, I settled into my seat to wait for daylight. My stand sits about 50 yards off a large water catchment on a faint trail, and as I sat peering into the ever lightening dawn, I told myself that whatever came first, turkey or buck, I was going to put it down. (The fall season in Arizona allows for any turkey, male or female, to be harvested.) Around 7:30, I look up from my book to check a noise I heard, and sure enough a flock of turkeys working through the forest in front of me poking at the ground and putting to each other. I waited patiently as they made their way through my shooting lane. After a quick scan, I could see that all the birds were female, so I reared back and sent an arrow into the closest one. To my surprise, the bird dropped where it was. Half expecting it to jump up and run/fly away, I quickly nocked another arrow but the bird laid still. My first Arizona Merriam’s turkey and who would have thought I could make it happen with a recurve.

By the time I had cleaned the bird, put her on ice, and made my way back to camp, it was going on mid-day. I had too much energy to go back and sit on the same stand that I had made so much noise on that morning, so I strung up the fly rod and hit one of my favorite streams. A great end to a unforgettable day in the woods.

The post Arizona Bowhunting: Merriam’s Turkey appeared first on Arizona Wanderings.