I pride myself on being a decent bowhunter. Even though I’ve spent far more time in the field than most bowhunters during the past 45 years, I’m the first to admit I still can learn something new — and valuable — on any given day.
Case in point: This past weekend I was bowhunting in eastern South Dakota with a good friend, Scott. We decided to share a ground blind because it’s difficult for one person to carry a pop-up blind, decoys, bow, small chair and other turkey hunting gear, especially over a distance of a half-mile with two creek crossings. In addition, because early spring air temps had been cold since winter “ended,” wild turkeys were still roosting and feeding in large wintering groups. (Click here to read my recent article, “3 Tips for ‘Winter’ Wild Turkeys.”) Many times one gobbler will attack another one that’s killed by a hunter, so we figured our chance for a double from one blind was higher than splitting up.
We learned where a massive flock of wild turkeys was roosting and traveling during our Saturday morning bowhunt — no shots — so before leaving for lunch, we repositioned the pop-up blind closer to the roost for the following morning. There is simply no way to set up a pop-up blind within 60 yards of roosted birds without spooking them, no matter how early you arrive. In my experience, even though the birds may not bust out of the trees in the dark, they simply wait until daylight and then pitch the other direction. Whoever claimed turkeys don’t have good memories has never pursued wary river-bottom birds in eastern South Dakota.
My weather app showed sunrise at 6:55 a.m. In my experience, toms fly down before hens, and they typically begin hitting the ground a half-hour before sunrise. Hens usually stay in the roost trees for another 10-20 minutes, with toms parading below them. The hens yelp from the limb, then the toms gobble in reply from the ground, and the courtship ritual repeats day after day.
We expected to hear the first shock gobbles at 6:10-ish, so we were quiet in the blind at 5:45 a.m. We used a red-lens headlamp to find the blind in the predawn darkness and avoid stepping on noisy fallen branches. I carefully placed a Primos Killer B strutting decoy 2 feet behind a DSD Mating Hen (bedded hen), as well as a DSD Upright Hen a few feet to the right of the breeding pair. As we looked at the decoys from left to right, it was jake facing bedded hen, and bedded hen facing upright hen. All three decoys were in a row, facing right, at a distance of only 5 yards from the blind.
I won the coin flip to take the first shooting opportunity, so I placed my three-legged camp stool in the middle of the Browning pop-up blind. We were looking out a wide “picture” window (actually three windows functioning as one, divided only by two support poles); the picture window measured approximately 40 inches across and 18 inches high.
Scott was sitting against the wall on the left side of the blind and recording video with a tripod-mounted camera. If I shot a bird, we’d quickly switch spots and he’d take position in the middle of the blind.
Fly Down Insanity
I’m not exaggerating to say we were in a wild turkey wonderland. Well before first light (30 minutes before sunrise), hens were yelping and toms gobbling from nearby trees. The raucous noise continued after they all had hit the ground. We had at least 75 turkeys within 75 yards, and at least half of them were longbeards. Crazy!
The only downside to a situation like this one is it’s impossible as a caller to have any influence on bird movement. A massive flock such as this one will begin to separate haphazardly based on where individual hens decide to walk, and you hope a hen moves toward your decoys, pulling one or 12 toms with her.
This didn’t happen for us, so we waited and continued to call as most of the birds exited the river-bottom to feed on distant picked cornfields. Finally, an hour after sunrise, a lone tom began sneaking from left to right toward the jake decoy. When the tom was at 20 yards, slowly strutting toward my decoys, I clipped my release to the bowstring. When he was at 12 yards, I drew and waited for him to walk in front of the blind’s picture window.
The broadside tom floated in slowly, in full strut, with his white head tucked back in an “S” shape, just the way I like it for a close-range shot with a Magnus Bullhead broadhead. I aim for a strutter’s cheek when he’s in this position. He was only 5 yards away; perfect!
As I tracked his head with my bowsight pin, and waited for the tom to stop at the decoy before releasing my arrow, my concentration was broken.
“You’re too low!” Scott whisper-shouted. “Raise up! Raise up!”
Wait, what?!
Evidently, Scott’s attention was captured by my large fixed-blade broadhead as I drew, and he was sure I didn’t have the needed clearance.
“You sure?” I whisper-shouted in reply.
“Yes! Your broadhead will hit the blind. Raise up!”
My feet were spread too far apart to immediately “raise up,” and as I scrambled to do so, the tom must have heard our conversation and decided this spot was hazardous to his health. He quickly walked away, putting a big tree between himself and the blind.
I let up on my draw and Scott explained his concerns. He was correct: If I’d released the arrow, then the bottom blade on the Magnus Bullhead would’ve smashed into the bottom of the window.
How could I make such a stupid mistake?
Rule No. 1 after climbing into a treestand for whitetails, or a ground blind for whitetails or turkeys, is verifying you can shoot clearly in all desired directions. I’d hunted from a Browning pop-up blind before, and I’d used this stool for 25 years, but this time there was a problem, and I learned it too late.
The decoys were in a small depression, a few inches lower than the blind. And while the blind was placed on a flat spot, the legs of my stool had sunk into the soft pasture a bit more than usual. (The frost was coming out of the ground, making the usual hard pasture quite soft.) These two factors meant that instead of having a couple inches of broadhead clearance, I had a flight path problem — one that cost me a point-blank shot at a big gobbler.
What should I have done differently? Obviously, I should have checked broadhead clearance at first light. I guess I was so mesmerized by all the gobblers that I never thought about it. I’d killed turkeys previously with this broadhead style, from this same blind, using this same stool, so I assumed it was “all good.” Wrong!
Learn from my mistake. Check your shots. Always. Had I done so at first light, I could have switched chairs with Scott (his chair is 3 inches taller) and probably punched my tag.
P.S. On the same day I’m writing this story, I’ll go online, do some research and then purchase a taller hunting stool, one that has larger feet that won’t sink into soft ground. (Also, check out a story I wrote recently titled “Bow Shooting Tip for Turkey Hunters: Practice While Sitting.” In that article I specifically discuss arrow clearance out the window of a pop-up blind. Guess I should listen to my own advice.
