Turkey time in Wisconsin

I went on a turkey hunt with my dad in Wisconsin last week. In that state, like in Minnesota, you get drawn for a five-day season. This was the second-to-last season, so we were hunting late in the year. But, with the late spring we've had, this turned out pretty well. The birds were active and the weather was beautiful on each of the three days we hunted.

The first day, we had birds gobbling and strutting, but they wouldn't come in. Then, I moved our blind right to the edge of the property line and had a bird gobbling as we were setting up. But, a tractor pulled onto the neighbor's land and started planting corn. Then, another neighbor whose land touches the property we were on drove up on a tractor to plant a food plot for deer. That ended things for the day, but we decided to come back to the same spot the next morning.

Turkeys love freshly-planted corn fields and they were definitely there the next day. I moved the blind to the spot where my son had killed a nice bird the previous year, just 20 yards from a large strip of freshly-planted corn. Two toms were gobbling on the neighbor's land, but wouldn't come over. Then, at about 5:30 a.m., a hen crossed in front of us. I tried to call her into the decoys, but she just kept going. About 10 minutes later, two more hens crossed in front of us. This time, they turned and came right to the decoys, which we had set up 5-10 yards from the blind.

I was thinking it would be nice to have a gobbler follow the hens in when I heard a gobble just over the hill to my left. I looked and saw the top of a tail fan pop up, then another. The two birds came strutting over the hill and I was hoping they would veer right so my dad and I could both get a shot. He was on the right side of the blind (where I thought the birds would come from) and I was on the left.

But, these darned birds stayed left and began to slow down and act cautious. They came out of strut, ran their heads up and stood there. My choice was to keep waiting and risk them leaving, or shoot now and at least get one. I chose to shoot and I dropped the bird in front at 40 yards. Unfortunately, the other one took off right away and my dad didn't get a shot.

We went to another farm (where my son Andy had shot a bird April 13) and hunted there for a few hours that day and then again the following morning until noon. We had birds gobble and come part way in, but we couldn't pull one in close enough for my dad to shoot. So, we ended up one for two. I was hoping my dad would get one, but I think he just enjoyed being out in the woods with me. At his age, 86, that's an accomplishment in itself. He did manage to shoot a bird the week before in Minnesota while hunting with my brother, so he did get his bird this year.

Several weeks ago, I shot a bearded hen in Minnesota (which is legal), but it is not the same feeling as shooting a big tom. Mine weighed about 20.5 pounds and had an 11 1/4-inch beard that was nice and thick. All in all, a great bird and an awesome hunt. I'm thankful to the Lord for the time with my dad and the bird we were able to harvest.

Solving Mother's Day Dilemma

Sometimes, the most valuable hunting and fishing trips are the ones we don’t take.

Say what?

Let me explain. First of all, I like the outdoors as much as anyone. For that reason, Saturday’s fishing opener weighed heavily on my mind.

In fact, in anticipation of this year’s fishing season, I bought a boat that has all of the features I wanted. And, as recently as two weekends ago, during one of those nasty stretches of cold weather, I went out into the garage and climbed into my boat, dreaming of the warm, fishing days of summer.

That said, I realized I had a tough choice to make this past weekend -- fishing or Mother’s Day. Because I had a work commitment on Saturday, that left only Sunday to ply the waters in search of walleye.

As tempting as this idea was, I felt a hesitation in my spirit about leaving my wife on Mother’s Day to spend time in my boat.
Maybe I could come up with some sort of compromise, like taking my wife fishing with me. With that idea in mind, I casually queried my wife, Julie, about her interests for Mother’s Day.

Without hesitation, she shot back a quick, definitive answer -- clean up the yard.

Yes, that gets me outside, but that wasn’t exactly the type of outdoors experience I was hoping for. Yet, I felt like I could not ignore her wishes.

In the end, I determined that fishing and Mother’s Day, for me, would be incompatible this year. I would spend Sunday sprucing up the landscape and filling a trailer with things my wife wants gone.
The walleye would have to wait. I realize that probably gets me in trouble with other husbands who will insist my decision makes them look bad.

Believe me, that is not my intent. And, I would caution “fishing widows” out there not to wave this column in front of their husbands and make this type of cynical retort: “See, loving husbands do NOT go fishing on Mother’s Day.”

No, I do not presume to make some type of theological ranking of Mother’s Day above walleye fishing. Even the state legislature backed away from this one as it briefly pondered changing the date of the fishing opener so as not to conflict with Mother’s Day.

Rather, I leave each fisherman to his own conscience in settling this matter with his wife.

I merely believe that there are times when men ought to have enough courage and enough conviction to recognize and grab hold of opportunities to make sacrifices out of love for their wives.
I can’t say I have a great track record in this. Just three years ago, I went turkey hunting on Mother’s Day with my oldest son.
Bad idea. Not only did the hunting turn out to be lousy, but the conversation I had with my wife on the way home was nothing short of painful. She made it clear just how disappointed she was in the choice I had made to leave her on Mother’s Day.

I resolved not to make that mistake again. The experience played a big role in my decision this year. As recently as the Friday of Mother’s Day/fishing opener weekend, I was feeling pretty confident in my decision.

Then, I ran into Julie Pfitzinger of St. Joseph in West St. Paul. She and I both were at St. Joseph School in West St. Paul to cover a talk by Imaculée Ilibagiza of Rwanda on her personal experience of the genocide that took place there in the 1990s. Pfitzinger is a mom and a freelance writer who has written about issues like this over the years.

After the talk, we spent a few minutes discussing the issue. Julie’s insights confirmed I was making the write choice.

“Although my husband isn't a fisherman, I have friends who have been ‘Mother's Day widows,’ ” she said. “I don't think it's ever about them [mothers] wanting the big spotlight to shine around them on the second Sunday in May, but is really about the desire to just spend quality family time together.”

That simple remark made me realize that what my wife -- and, I suspect, many other wives -- really wants is merely the chance to spend time with me and feel a little special.

Lord knows, moms take a lot of abuse in our culture these days, often from members of their own gender. This is just one day out of 365 when we husbands can show them a little appreciation for all that they do to make our families strong and vibrant.

And, as Pfitzinger pointed out, this also is an opportunity to send a message to your children, especially boys, about how to set and maintain the right priorities.

“I believe that every opportunity we have to model to our kids the importance we place on family should be taken now -- it's all part of helping prepare them to raise their own families some day,” she said. “I guess if that means missing the fishing opener in favor of spending Mother's Day together, the valuable message inherent in seeing Dad choose family over fish is more than worth keeping the tackle box packed for a few more days.”

I agree. But, make no mistake, my tackle box will open soon.
And, walleyes of Minnesota’s 10,000 lakes, beware.

God's goodness in Buffalo County

Over the weekend, I took my No. 3 son, William, to an annual father/son weekend for boys in grades second through sixth and their dads. We go down to a farm owned by a friend's parents in Buffalo County, WI. The county is known as one of the top places in the country for trophy whitetail bucks and there are more and more hunters gobbling up prime hunting land in this area.

Last spring, I shot a turkey on this farm and have also taken three deer, all antlerless. This weekend, however, was not about hunting. It was about helping about 20 or 30 boys have a good time and bond with their fathers. Thanks to God's grace in turning away foul weather on Saturday, I'd say we accomplished our mission.

One of the highlights is a hike to the top of a bluff along the Mississippi River near Nelson, WI. It was cool and windy at the start, but the sun popped out just when we reached the top and it stayed out the rest of the day. It's a spectacular view from there, overlooking the Mississippi backwaters and Lake Pepin. We lingered for a while to take in the scene, then came back down and enjoyed ice cream cones in Nelson. My son saw a wild turkey on his way down and we saw two others near the farm. I hope to see turkeys like these when I go turkey hunting in Wisconsin next week.

Speaking of turkey hunting, my 86-year-old father shot one in Minnesota on Friday (see photo above). He was hunting with the my brother, Joe, and they called in two jakes (young toms). My dad took the first shot at 28 yards and downed his bird. My brother shot next and missed. Although he hunted three more days after that, he did not get another opportunity. That's the way turkey hunting goes. But, everyone in our family is thrilled to see my dad get a bird. I wonder if he is the oldest turkey hunter in the state to get a bird -- or, even oldest in the country. I'd love to be able to find that out. I hope to help him get bird No. 2 next week in Wisconsin.

A chance to give back

As is my custom, I started contacting landowners after my turkey hunt to thank them for letting me hunt on their land. I wrote a couple of letters and made a phone call to one gentleman in Minnesota who let me come down and hunt on his farm. We have hunted deer successfully on his land and I was trying it for turkeys for the first time.

I didn't get a bird there, although I spooked two on my way back down to my car. When I called him two days later, he said he had seen turkeys just that morning not far from the house. Too bad, I thought. I plan on coming back to his farm another time to try for turkeys.

Certainly, I will be back in the fall for deer hunting, which I talked about with the landowner. And, to my surprise, he asked if he could hunt with us. "Of course," I replied. This is a rare chance to give back to a landowner who has been generous in granting permission to hunt on his land. He went on to say that he did some small-game hunting as a kid and would love to try hunting again. It has been a while since he has gone out into the field with a gun, but he seems genuinely interested in getting back into the sport.

And, I am happy to oblige him. In fact, I told someone I work with about it and he has agreed to make a deer stand for this landowner. I can't wait to come down in the fall to show him the deer stand and put it up for him. He's getting older and has had some health problems, so we'll need to wait and see how he's doing come November.

But, I pray God will give him the chance to experience a sport I have enjoyed and have shared with my children. My No. 2 son, Andy, has yet to kill his first deer and he may do it on this man's land in November. I would be thrilled if both Andy and the landowner could shoot a deer on this farm in the fall.

Success in Minnesota

After trying but failing to help my two sons, Joe and Andy, get a turkey during Minnesota's first season last week, my turn came on Monday. After witnessing a tough hunt for the boys, I knew it wouldn't be easy during my season. A lot of birds were still grouped up in large flocks and that always makes it tough. Usually, they have broken into smaller groups and spread out by now.

Sure enough, my hunt was tough, too. I started on one farm in Red Wing where I previously had good hunting and heard only one bird gobbling in the distance. I went to the neighboring farm and ended up calling in four nice gobblers to about 100 yards. But, they wouldn't come any closer, so I moved on to two more farms without hearing a gobble at either one.

The next day, I went back to one of those farms because my brother, Paul, and his brother-in-law each had shot a bird there. Sure enough, there were toms gobbling at dawn, but I couldn't get any of them to come in.

So, I went back to the farm where I had called in the four toms the day before. I spent about three hours there and heard nothing. I was packing up to leave when I looked up and saw a turkey approaching my decoy. I looked to see if it had a beard, which is required by state law. Beards, tufts of black hair protruding from the chest, are mostly, but not always, found on males.

I saw the beard, aimed and fired, dropping the bird. When I went up to retrieve it, I discovered it was a female -- a rare, bearded hen. The bird was perfectly legal, but very unexpected. In more than 20 years of turkey hunting, I had never even seen a bearded hen, although my Dad got one several years ago. I was relieved that the bird, in fact, was legal, but I had been hoping to shoot a big tom, especially after seeing four of them the previous day.

But, I have learned to take what the Lord gives me and be thankful. As is my custom, I said a prayer of thanks for my bird, then visited the landowners and shared my success story with them. The good news is I have a Wisconsin hunt coming up in mid May and the birds will be spread out by then, plus most, if not all, of the hens should be laying eggs and sitting on their nests, which makes the toms lonely for love and more willing to come to a call.

It's hard to be disappointed with a hunt like this in light of the tragic death of 8-year-old Hunter Klaseus, who died over the weekend when his father, Anthony, mistook him for a turkey and shot him at a farm near Belle Plaine. After hearing about this, I'm glad just to have a safe hunt.

Yet, a tragedy like this is easily preventable. As a firearms safety instructor, I know that one of the three laws of firearms safety could have kept this from happening if it had been followed: Be sure of your target and what lies beyond. In the spring, only a turkey with a visible beard can be shot, so there's no reason to shoot at movement.

But, however poor Anthony Klaseus' judgment may have been, I think the best thing we can do is pray for him and his family. It's going to be very hard on all of them and they are going to need God's love and mercy to get them through. I hope and pray they all will call upon the Lord for support and guidance during this time.

Sharing the good news

I made an important phone call today. After a successful turkey hunt with my son, Andy, over the weekend, I decided to let the Wisconsin DNR know how happy I was with the hunt and with the way the department is managing the state's wild turkey population and its hunting seasons.

When I was transfered to the feedback line, I got on the phone with a woman who said she would make sure someone called back to hear my complaint. I replied that I wasn't calling to complain, but to compliment the department for managing the birds well and doing things like offering the youth hunt.

She seemed genuinely surprised that someone would call to say something positive. When I asked how often that happens, she responded, "hardly ever."

How sad. I think it's important in life to let people know when they've done a good job. I believe it's part of our calling as Christians. The longer I talked to this woman, the more cheerful her demeanor became. That alone was worth the time it took to make the call.

I know people like her have taken a beating for problems that occurred last month when their computer system crashed the day they were supposed to start selling surplus wild turkey hunting permits for this spring. I know it cost people an opportunity for a permit when they weren't able to get through on the computer and eventually gave up, only to try again later and find that the permits had been sold out for the zone they wanted to hunt.

This happened to Andy's friend from school, who had planned to hunt with us. He ended up getting a permit for a different zone and wasn't able to hunt with us. Had he gotten a permit for the zone he wanted, he would have been able to hunt on his own property. I hope he'll get that chance next year.

I told the woman I did not wish to complain about the computer problem. I said I was sure she had gotten plenty of complaints already and didn't need any more. True, she replied.

I felt it was time to give a beleaguered DNR employee like her a little boost. I hope it made her day a little better. As for me, I'll continue smiling about my son's hunt and look forward to my Minnesota hunt next week and Wisconsin hunt in mid May.

Starting with a bang

The turkey season started over the weekend with the Wisconsin youth season Saturday and Sunday. I took my son Andy over to a farm we hunted for the first time. I met someone through a work assignment who lives in the zone where Andy had a tag to hunt and she said her neighbor has lots of turkeys, so I called him and got permission to hunt.

Boy, she was right. This property was loaded with birds! Even though the weather had been especially nasty last Thursday, Friday and Saturday, we went out late Saturday afternoon to set up the blind and do some calling to see if there were birds in the area. I heard a gobble in the distance, then called and he came closer and gobbled again. It was getting late, so I decided to leave him alone and come back the next morning and try for him.

With sunrise at 6:30 and legal shooting hours at 6, we got back to the blind at 5:30. It was still plenty dark, but we heard a gobble before we even got into the blind. Then, just minutes after we got in, the birds went absolutely nuts! I've never heard so much gobbling in my life and it kept on going after the birds flew down from their roosts. There were at least 10 or 12 birds gobbling around us and they were gobbling so often I couldn't even tell if they were gobbling to my calls. They gobbled to just about every sound they heard.

There were several birds that were working their way toward us, but we had to wait a while until one finally showed. He gobbled just up the hill from us, so I was confident he would come all the way in. I had Andy position himself facing where the bird gobbled from and we just waited.

About 10 minutes later, I looked down the picked corn field to the left and there he was in full strut. He put on quit a show as he strutted all the way in. The decoys were to our right and he was to our left, so the setup was perfect. He worked his way from left to right and crossed Andy's line of fire.

At 20 yards, I did a call to get him to lift his head and Andy made a great shot. It was an awesome hunt and an awesome bird. The beard was 9 1/2 inches and he had a spur length of just under an inch with a nice point at the end -- probably a three-year-old bird. His other spur was broken off, so he obviously was doing some fighting.

Tomorrow, I take Andy and his brother Joe on their Minnesota hunt, then I go in Minnesota next week, with a Wisconsin hunt ahead in mid May. The only thing that went wrong on this hunt was I forgot my camera. So, I had to take this picture with my cell phone. It felt funny being a professional photographer and relying on a cell phone to take an important picture. I'll try not to let that happen again!