I can’t remember who or what planted the seed in me but I had my heart set on going to the Black Hills for a Merriam Turkey hunt this year. I believe it is the most gorgeous bird out of the four subspecies in North America. A nine hour drive each way from Minnesota across South Dakota through the Bad Lands and into Rapid City. The spring season runs from April 9th to May 15th and you are allowed one bearded turkey for $85 for the tag. For non-resident’s seeking to hunt the application is due by February 25th. We chose to go on our own with no guide or outfitter service. We pretty well went into the hunt blind-folded with a few suggestions from a great hunting friend of mine who has spent I believe the last 4 years hunting out there from Minnesota.
The Black Hills is over 2.3 million acres with more than 50% of it open to public hunting. The Hills reach elevations of more than 7,000 feet above. There are a few areas that are closed off to hunting which include Custer State Park, Wind Cave National Park, Mount Rushmore National Memorial and the Jewel Cave National Monument. This was a complete new terrain that I have never hunted in before and found it to be very challenging. Steep inclines, deep gorges, open prairie, wide ridges covered with aspen, white spruce, ponderosa pine and bur oak for shelter. By following the main roads as well as using the logging roads makes for easy access to some great hunting land. However it is easy to find yourself climbing and hiking beyond the roads into complete desolated areas. As my Father said, "To much land not enough time."
My body took quite the beating running up and down the ridges and tracking and chasing the Merriam’s throughout those millions of gorgeous and majestic gulches and elevations. I was tired, sore, cold, had blisters on my feet, a wind burnt face, chapped lips yet still that turkey fever kept me going strong and hard. As soon as you would hear a gobble echo through the hills it was enough to give you that burst of adrenaline needed to continue on. We also kept our eyes out for sheds too.
We scouted the day before opener just getting familiar with the area and seeing where the Turkeys might be around. The Merriam’s seem to travel like nomads and cover a lot of area. There were a lot of hunters out there from out of state also. We stayed in Hill City just northeast of the Mount Rushmore Memorial. The afternoon before opener it down poured rain into the late hours of the night. In the morning the air was cold and crisp. It was flurrying all day to our dismay and still pretty wet. The wind was pretty heavy and I could honestly say I felt like the odds were against us and all the others who had the fever bad opening day.
The only thing that made me a bit nervous it is legal to hunt with rifles for Turkeys there. There was a group of bow hunters that were staying at our hotel and they set up a sign off of the logging road where they had set up in. It read in blaze orange "Camo Hunters in Area, Hunt Safely." I thought that was a great idea and shows great thinking and thought on their behalf.
The scenery and wildlife often took my attention away from focusing on locating birds. I can honestly say that I saw more Whitetail and Muley deer this past weekend then I have ever seen all together in my entire life. Groups of Elk would chase each other up and down the ridges like little kids playing in the sun on a hot recess lunch. We would sit quietly and just watch them ever so still. There were two large bulls in that particular group that had not yet shed their antlers which was a surprise to me. Beer, Mountain Lion, Coyotes, Rabbits, Rattlesnakes, Pronghorn Antelope, Raccoons to just name a few call the Black Hills their haven and home. I would definitely consider a deer or elk hunt in the Black Hills in the future after seeing the population and activity. The weather could change in a heartbeat and the clouds would fly in and out as if someone had fast forwarded time in a movie.
Every time we crossed paths with the Turkeys they were henned up and the hens were not in the mood for challenging calls. The toms would be interested and shock gobble or respond a few times and the other times the hens would distract them and move farther away. The slightest movement or unfamiliar sound would give us away. Sometimes I would hold my breathe and I would be sitting against a tree and feel as if my heart had pushed all the way down to my stomach. Adrenaline and excitement filled my mind. It was next to impossible to set up decoys while trying to cut off and get ahead of these birds. They were in larger groups and it seemed a hen would always see me first and spook the rest of the group farther away from me. The weather was against us except in the afternoons it would warm up and the sun would finally come out. We set up around an area off a logging road near Reno Gulch. We were hidden above in a rock formation overlooking a low gully. Two very young Jakes came running in full speed right in front of me. I passed them up but it was quite amusing to watch their reactions once they realized we were there. Another group of hunters pulled up to the situation right as the Jakes were in range. We also were set up in the late afternoon a few hours before sunset and we had a group of hunters drive right past our decoys and stop off of a logging road. They studied those decoys pretty hard which made me a bit nervous. It was so windy we couldn’t hear the birds coming or barely calling back to us. A lot of the time they would see you first before you even figured out they were there. No one likes to stare at the butt of a Turkey cruising away from you out of range and out of sight.
I was hoping that the weather had decided to have a change of heart and warm up since opening weekend. We headed back out there the third week into the season there. The weather was windy and cold in the morning about 25 degrees and would warm up to almost 60 degrees and no wind. It was amazing. Start the day of with three layers and be sweating in one layer by lunchtime. To my dismay the first afternoon we got back into Hill City we were hoping to put some birds to bed. We had absolutely no responses and no signs whatsoever. It was as if the ground had swallowed the Turkeys alive. I thought to myself more than likely a combination that these birds been spooked and moved farther away and that the Turkeys took a hard beating from the first three weeks of the season. The next day we saw a few lone Jakes throughout the morning by themselves that were extremely non responsive to us. I was trying not to get impatient but to switch up the game plan in hope of some different reactions from these birds. You have to love the unpredictability of hunting-it keeps us going strong in our pursuit.
The last morning hunt for us we decided to set up in this low meadow. We had spotted turkeys there three different prior occasions. They would feed quietly between the trees but once the sun would come over the ridge and shine down they would be bouncing around the meadow like kids jumping up and down on trampolines. One lone Jake was feeding about 100 yards in between the trees and acted as if he couldn’t hear me cutting and purring. Then across the ridge to my left I heard a gobble that scared me because I was so focused keeping my eye on the Jake hoping he had an antorash with him. I saw a group of three hook up with this particular Jake. One gobbler with two hens. He looked at our decoys and decided he was well satisfied with what he had. They moved north of our set up and out of sight. The only way I had an idea of what area they were moving in was a lone crow above them scolding them. This was the one and only time I think I have ever appreciated crows in my life. I thought for a while and decided I would take a chance and go to these birds since they weren’t coming to us. Slowly step by step, from tree to tree I made my way closer to them. I hadn’t seen them yet and was nervous they would see me first before I even looked eyesight on them. A group of about fifteen Whitetail deer coming running down the ridge to the east of me and ran right in front of me. My eyes stayed with them until they crossed the ridge on the west of me. I looked forward and about 100 yards forward was the pack of Turkeys feeding. I got about three trees closer and in between on my way to the fourth one a hen peered her head up at me. Standing on one leg as I was on my way to stepping down heel first, I froze as if I was a statue. I held my breathe and didn’t blink once. We had a starring match for about 4 minutes even though it felt like eternity because I knew she could sense me there and it felt as if she could look right through me and my camouflage. She went back to feeding and I completed my step behind the last tree. I knew I could not chance anymore closer moves so I knelt down behind the tree and got situated. I could not believe how close I got to them. It almost felt as if it was too perfect. The sun finally came over the highest ridge that I was below and a sun beam shinned right in front of the tree I was behind. The Turkeys started to come towards the warmth from the sunshine until the Gobbler was done hiding and strutting behind a tree he was in clear view. He peered his head up and took four steps away and popped back up. He knew something was up. I flipped the safety off the gun and starred at him down the barrel of my gun. I shot and knocked him off his feet onto the ground. I jumped up with pure joy as all the hard effort had finally paid off so I thought. As he was flopping he got back up and started to take off. I went to reload (I had a pump) and "click, click" was the noise that I didn’t want to hear. My empty shell cartridge had been stuck in the chamber. I stuck my thumb in it and flicked it out and finished pumping the gun. I drew it up and he was already over the ridge. I spent about three or four hours wondering aimlessly over all the ridges that surrounded the meadow. I blew some feathers off him but could not believe what had happened. My one opportunity had failed. I came back to the set up and the first thing my Dad asked was "Well where is the turkey, Heather?" I was really bummed out and felt horrid that I had wounded him without finding him. I learned a valuable lesson-actually a few to be exact. 1. Never underestimate a turkey’s strength 2. Be confident in your shooting ability because if you’re second-guessing yourself on a shot you shouldn’t be making it. (I actually believe I shot over him) 3. Use these experiences in your future hunting 4. Not every time you will succeed in harvesting game.
It takes a lot for me to share this with everyone because this is not the story I was hoping to bring back with me however it is a learning experience for me and makes me appreciate Turkey hunting that much more. Hunting is not always about harvesting the biggest game or tagging out (it is just a bonus of the hunt.) However I have much determination to come back next year and finish the job that I started this year in the Black Hills. I already have my hunt set up next year. I am very gracious and extremely excited to be hunting out at Ron Shara’s Turkey Track Camp in Sturgis, South Dakota next spring. I will be looking forward to delivering a great story next year.
I learned a lot about the Merriam subspecies and would really enjoy adding one to my wall and having a turkey in the freezer as well that will make for some good eating. It is truly God’s country out there and I look at this hunt as a privilege to be able to see the beautiful terrain and experience all the finer things in life that you cannot put a price on. I seem to only be able to relax when I am out hunting or in the outdoors and away from the daily grind of work and college that I know all to well. I hope to go out there this summer to check out all the tourist attractions I only got to take a quick glance at when I was hunting. I would suggest a Black Hill’s Merriam hunt to anyone who is not familiar with that area. For more information on year round hunting seasons, regulations, applications and information go to http://www.sdgfp.info/Wildlife/hunting/Index.htm I am really looking forward to returning back out there and chasing those birds throughout that great land next year and hope to make this hunt a new yearly tradition with my Father. As the Terminator says, "I’ll be back!"
