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Not your average hunt in Old Montana
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Up here in Alberta we have a huntable population of wild turkeys on a draw. I suppose that it must take ten years to get drawn right now and personally, I find that silly.

Some years ago I decided that it was time to shoot my first wild turkey so decided to do it in Old Montana where one could buy a tag over the counter.

Of course I did not know where to go so decided that I would hire a guide for the adventure.

A buddy from that state was kind enough to find me a guide who charged $440 for the two day hunt. My buddy/booking agent kept the $40. More than fair.

The guide said that he enjoyed 100% success rate but if I did not get the bird in the two days I could hunt a third day.

He gave me a hotel phone number for when I pulled into town and the April hunt was good to go.

Now I live 60 miles north of Montana and the main highway is a good one with a speed limit that year of 75 miles an hour. A guy can make good time which is handy as the area to be hunted was a long long ways away in the south eastern portion of that fine state.

Three hours later I pulled into Great Falls and it was time to get off the big highway and cut across the state like I had done so many times on antelope hunts down near Round Up.

Those highways are much narrower often so I decided to continue on the big highway where I could drive to beat hell. Straight down the state and near the bottom - then head off to the east.

Two hours later I saw a sign to my destination. In two hours of driving 75 miles an hour I had come 4 miles closer to my goal. Bah!

The last couple or hours on my now 700 mile drive I kept noticing signs bragging about this fabulous world class restaurant in the small town that I was heading to.

I must not be much of a class act because that evening I bought hamburgers for myself and my long suffering wife at the bowling alley. (I do not bowl)

I phoned the guide and he wanted directions to the hotel for the 5:00 a.m. rendezvous. He would meet me in the back. That hotel gave us a toilet plunger when we checked in.

At the appropriate time I was standing in the shadows (remember the ballad "Running Gun' by Marty Robbins ... ' a cold voice from the shadows told me not to turn around!?' when a big 4x4 roared up and a chap stepped out.

'We going turkey hunting,' was my kindly voice from the shadows.

'No', the man walked on by.

A bit later the guide showed up in an ancient old SUV and we piled in. I had brought my lady and my ancient little girl Schnauzer for company and they
both got into a back seat and we were off.

The rancher/guide explained that he also guided antelope and mule deer hunters in the fall. The mule deer, because of genetics never got really big.

The antelope, he made sure that the client always shot from prone and stayed out of sight until the antelope herd had moved out. That way they were not run ragged and hard to get on. He could do this because the ranches were leased and no one else could hunt them.

He did not shoot turkeys, himself. If he wanted a bird he shot a goose.

We drove by a long approach that he said went to his ranch house but we continued on for another half of a mile and finally stopped at a gate. The guide said that we would walk from there.

I got out on my side and noticed a giant fluffy black and white dog bounding down the road towards us.

My first thought, ' Ah, the big pooch saw his master drive by and is coming to be with him. Nice!'

The guide went into a swearing frenzy and kicked the poor dog right in the face!'

I then went into my best rage and was all for ending the hunt right then and there! The SOB!

Realizing that things had quickly gone south, the guide put his dog into the back of the suburban and I decided to continue the hunt.

After we left, the dog (which was about the size of a Newfoundlander)noticed the incredibly beautiful Moxie and was instantly in love with the little schnauzer who was about the size of his head) Moxie was used to all males of all species falling in love with her because of her great beauty. In her long life of 14 years and 5 months she broke everyone of their hearts.

And even though he was rightly smitten, she was less that impressed when he slid over a couple of seats to be close to the one that he loved.

The guide and I, meanwhile, had headed toward the Powder River and finding a good spot, we sat down and the calling commenced.

The turkeys must have flown across the river so did not show up.

A few hours later we walked back to the Suburban and the rancher suggested that we all go back to the ranch house for pancakes.

I declined as I was hunting turkeys so he left me in a v section of a giant poplar and with a hen decoy in front of me - I was left alone for about three or four hours.

I saw a squirrel, some antelope, and a few turkeys a few hundred yards away. The gobblers were strutting and putting on a show. But were not interested in the Canuck standing in a V of a giant poplar.

Back at the ranch house, Lady Margaret had pancakes cooked up for her by the wife who could multi task. As she was flipping pancakes she was also holding a small dog.

Oh, yeah. One of the rancher's bulls got out onto a neighbour's property so he got on a horse and went to chase it back. Being a bull, it refused to listen so ------ he shot it!

I started to think that the dude had anger management issues when he told me of the dead $800 bull.

The chap had hip waders and he wanted us to wade the Powder River to get to the turkeys on the other side.

I had zero interest in wading a spring run off river (Remember the old poem, ' You can't get drowned on Lac St. Pierre - so long you stay on shore.'

I told him that I had seen turkeys on our side.

So the lad told me to lay down underneath a giant toppled Poplar and to wait.

I did as such and eventually I saw the beaten up old SUV slowly coming down the valley towards me. Hundreds of yards in front a flock of turkeys meandered my way. The guy was slow with stops but eventually the first gobbler came into range where I was lying prone.

My 45 year old 870 pump was shooting about a foot low (the previous year I had missed 14 shots at sage grouse before I started to think that something was wrong? so I just aimed a bit higher and gunned my very first wild Montana turkey.

We had that same hotel booked for another night but my lady wanted to put some distance between ..... well, you get the picture ...

Be safe, amigos and good hunting !
 
Posts: 1532 | Location: Alberta/Namibia | Registered: 29 November 2004Reply With Quote
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Damn, you could make a pretty good movie out of that story! Big Grin Or, at least a story for an outdoor magazine! Big Grin Congrats on your turkey! tu2
 
Posts: 18516 | Registered: 04 April 2005Reply With Quote
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Scruffy, Great story! Now you just need to post the pictures to back it all up Whistling

Cheers

.


"Up the ladders and down the snakes!"
 
Posts: 2248 | Location: South Africa & Europe | Registered: 10 February 2014Reply With Quote
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I just need to see the one where someone's boot is being extracted from the guide's backside for kicking the dog. That would have been even better than a turkey. Be Well, Packy.
 
Posts: 2140 | Registered: 28 May 2002Reply With Quote
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Just me, or did anyone else hear banjos playing in the background during the narration?
 
Posts: 177 | Location: Brooks, Alberta, Canada | Registered: 17 March 2013Reply With Quote
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Big Grin
 
Posts: 18516 | Registered: 04 April 2005Reply With Quote
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