Annual 2025 Turkey Camp in Allegheny County - A Spring Tradition

 

I was the first at camp on Wednesday this year and soon after setting up my 8-man tipi tent, my brother Chris rolls in with the camper.  I had stopped at a stocked trout stream and fished the morning.  The water was low and clear.  The only trout I saw was in the spot under the bridge where they stocked.  I fished for several hours even trying a dry fly for a bit.  I had a few instances where the trout would rise to check out the fly but would never take it.  So, I left empty-handed and not as confident as when I arrived.  I had even tried my version of the Utah killer bug that I tied before leaving.

Arriving at camp, there were another two guys from MD eastern shore, but that was it for the campground.   The other two guys said they “missed” a Tom with the shotgun yesterday, and they thought about leaving after tomorrow mornings hunt.  Walt, Brent, and Dave showed up before dark, and we had some good campfire time that evening.

The next morning had me driving to my regular deer spot, but the state had not unlocked the gate for the access road, and I wanted to hunt with my decoys and blind.  Too much to carry that far, I backed out and drove to the next parking area and set up on the edge of a long field where my decoys would be visible from far off.  Little did I know that the Eastern shore guys had already blew the birds off that ridge above me the previous day.  I saw nothing after a long sit, heard no gobbles and no shooting.

Back at camp Dave said that he overslept and hunted near the camp.  He heard gobbles across the road and when he went to put on a sneak was busted.  This was the first real action of the hunt and birds were near camp! 

The shore guys came back to camp with a Tom.  The good-sized couple year old bird had the widest beard though it was not overly long.  The bird had a huge hole in the side.  I thought the point with a shotgun was a head shot?  Later, Walt said he saw the tail and wings of a bird that was dead down the valley and I began to suspect it was the one the fellow “missed”.

Jeff joined us that afternoon and we enjoyed more camp camaraderie and fun.  We were all waiting for Walt to come into camp.  I was going to check out a local trout stream nearby.  One hour late turned to 5 hours late, and we started to set out search parties before calling the DNR to assist with our lost hunter.  Eventually he came dragging along the road back to camp.  He heard my brother driving the roads honking his horn and made it to the road.  His cell phone was dead.  DNR checked on him and then visited the successful hunters.  Turns out they didn’t have the bird field tagged or checked in, so she gave them a warning.  Walk drank, rested and eventually felt better after a shower.  He was pretty bug eaten up.

The next morning had me humping the blind and decoys out to an area uphill of where Dave saw the ones the previous day.  I was still thinking the blind was the way to kill one easier with the bow, so I spent a few hours sitting on a high field corner in the tent.  Around 930am I looked up and saw 3 decoys in my setup, when I knew I only had two out!  There was a hen who came in to check out my plastic bird couple.  She had no beard and milled around for some time.  Would have offered me an amazing couple shots if it was a legal Gobbler.  I got a nice video of her through the blind screen.

Jeff went home early as his honey-do list was calling, and there was rain in the forecast.  Chris and I hit that local fly-fishing stream, but again we both ended without a fish landed.  The river looked amazing, but I could not get a strike to save me.

That evening at camp the rains started, and Dave had already left while we were fishing.  I had some of my “award winning” chili thawing in my dutch oven when the rains hit.  I made the sacrifice to hold the umbrella over the coals to keep the top coals lit.

We ate and drank…and it was amazing.

We went to bed and the sporadic rains turned steady, all night and into the early morning.  Chris decided with Walt to pack up and leave early.  I decided to go hunt.

It was overcast and a little drizzly after raining all night.  The access road was gated off, so I needed to walk an extra bit to get to the parking area in use during deer season.  No blind and decoys to haul so it was easy.  Getting to the yellow gate of the parking area, I noted some slob had left a empty gallon plastic jug of TurkeyHill iced tea in the woods off the road.  I took a mental note of that for a little target practice on the way out.

 

 

I crossed the powerlines and into the main area with a little off-and-on drizzle.  Halfway down the fire road to my intended hunting area, I heard some hen calls far down on the adjacent ridge.  Following the hens calls I heard several gobbles.  I thought about going after it, but since it was Saturday and I saw a few trucks on the drive in, I decided it was a hunter calling in a gobbler and I should not interfere.  I wish others had such courtesy.  Anyway, I decided it best to stick with my plan and continue on.  I spent several hours sitting in two different spots with some sparse calling and a lot of sitting still.  I had not heard or seen anything, with the exception of some big bird flying in behind me at one point.  I did not want to move my head to look.  I never heard or saw anything, and I suspect it may have been a large hawk or raven.  I have never heard of a gobbler flying in to calls except during fly down from the roost.  I don’t think this was the situation.

The rest of the hunt was uneventful, and I continued down the trail back to the gate.  I decided on some spot and stalk on the empty jug for some practice.  Walking up to about 25 yards, I switched out to a blunt arrow and I was about to apply tension on the string when just under 100 yards ahead of me a gobbler thundered!  I know I would have hit that jug with a resounding loud smack and would have never known about the bird nearby had it waited several more seconds. 

I took out my phone and snapped this photo, before switching my arrow back and sneaking toward the sound that came from directly beyond my jug target.  I got up to the jug and peered ahead through my binoculars, and there perked atop a deadfall and standing erect with his wings flared out, was a huge Tom.  He was about 75 yards out and I knew it was time to try to close that distance.  

 

I eased to my left putting a huge tree between me and him when he his head was preening his chest feathers.  I moved like I was easing toward a deer very slowly and quietly until I reached that tree.  I figured he would be less than 70 yards away at this point, but I dared not peek around the tree.  There was the road in front of me so I could go no further due to lack of cover.  I figured if I called a few times with the box call (I am no great mouth caller at this point), he would come closer to look for the hen, or at least gobble.  I eased out the call and removed the rubber band, I placed my bow in position.  I put my mouth call in my mouth and breathed deeply. 

 

On my knees, I made two series of hen calls and picked up the bow ready.  There was no gobble in response.  I knew he heard me, so I waited scanning with my eyes only on each side of the tree.  Minutes ticked by.  Nothing.  After a while, my knees started to ache, what to do.  I decided to make a few soft clucks with my mouth call.  Silence. 

 

About to give up, I hear a gobble farther up the hill and sounding like it was facing away.  I decided to get up and try to get closer.  There was a stack of dead brush another 10 yards towards the hill.  I ease around the tree and creep to the back side of this 2-foot-high tangle.  I drop to my knees and mouth cluck again.  Immediately he gobbles and I can see him coming across the foot of the hill about 60 yards out, long beard bouncing.  White head bobbing like a que ball!  He was gobbling, walking about 5 yards, and goggling again.  He was heading downhill to my right, and after a series of these gobbles was about 45 yards out and heading behind a huge deadfall tangle.  His snow-white head went behind the fat horizontal trunk, then I heard a gobble that sounded like it was facing away down the hill.  Thinking he was moving behind that tree I thought I could crawl another 3 yards closer on my hands and knees.  My thoughts were his path would take him about 35 yards downhill from me and I wanted a closer shot.  No sooner had I gotten into position, I see him sprinting away through the sunlight!  I was busted.  Dang. What a chance.

 

Reflecting back on the encounter.  I think the gobbler had been hen called to enough on this public land so far this season that he was buying the calling without seeing anything.  I think he was waiting, and when I moved from behind the tree, he likely caught a glimpse of my white arrow ball of fletching from my back quiver.  Thinking this was another Tom, he became enraged and was coming to find the source.  My mouth calls were directed downhill, so that is where he was headed.  My fatal mistake was trying to get a few yards closer when I thought his little head was behind cover.  Obviously, it wasn’t.

I marked up this photo to show the exact places the action unfolded:

This is the tree he was “behind”.

I got up to pace off the tree and how far away it was from me, when I looked down and found this!

The Tom had left me but led me to something after all.  I found 2 morels in amongst the May Apples, and my pace count was 47.

Back at Camp I made up a rue and a butter wine (homemade paw paw wine) sauce with the sautéed chopped morels, onion, garlic, salt, and pepper while the venison backstrap chops wrapped in bacon were crisping up on the coals.  Adding the cooked chops to the pan to smother them in morel sauce, the meal was one of the best eating venison dishes I had ever prepared anywhere.   I ended up having to use some leftover rice just to sop up the rest of the savory sauce after we wiped out the entire pack of steaks. 

 

 

After eating the delicious meal, we packed up leisurely as the sun had dried up all the wet gear already.  It was a great ending to a fun camp.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

First Turkey Hunt of the 25-26 Season - A Close Shave

Next week is my annual turkey camp on public land in Allegheny County, so I decided that I would try for a few hours on a private hay farm Saturday morning.  I decided I would go full blind and decoy setup, as traditionally the first hunt of the year is the most productive for me.  The temperatures were warm in the 50s, with highs forecast for near 80 degrees.  Overcast skies, but a fine mountain morning.

I had my super realistic jake decoy out about 15 yards with a hen 5 yards closer and off to the side.  My blind was nestled against a fence where the vines overhand from a tree.  

My Jake sits watch as the Catoctin Mountains lie in the backdrop.

Everything was quiet, no gobbles, and just the excited chatter of various nesting songbirds.   Then around 830am I caught a glimpse of what I thought was a hen across the field around 100 yards away.  I gave some soft calls and watched as the bird fed into the field, paying me very little mind.  Studying through the binos, I could not make out any sort of beard, though the body should have given away the secret.

Eventually, the bird started to close the distance until it was around 70 yards out.  Seemingly out of nowhere, it decides to make a bee line straight in along the fencerow towards my blind.   Then he puffs up into strut!  This was no hen!

I prepared for the shot and he passes broadside nary 12 yards away towards the hen decoy.  I focus on the spot and the bowstring hums.  The arrow flies a wee bit right of my mark but through the bird who shudders a bit and lurches forward.  I grab a backup arrow, and he continues on to the rear of my hen decoy and starts violating her!  As he is mounted and facing me, I focus on the edge of the decoy and arrow number 2 flies a wee bit left but also through the bird.  He took this in a bit of shock and jumped back.  Another arrow on the string and he was now facing away from me and toward the jake but between the decoy and me.  I focus again on a tiny spot and my arrow disappears again through the bird.  This time he had had enough.  Circling away and around, he was heading around the peninsula of tree about 30 yards out when my fourth arrow slices right between his legs forcing him to jump up. He was gone.  

Going out to gather my arrows, I found 3 areas with clumps of feathers.  No arrow had any blood. How close can you get.  

Close to 10am, I spotted what looked like the same bird back across the field again.  I called and he came back but passed out about 50 yards not biting again.  I guess he learned.

It was an exciting first hunt.  Next week I will likely bring the blind and decoys to the mountains, but will likely spend most of the time roaming without the set up. 

I also wanted to report that I baked that large rainbow trout and it came out super.

First Trophy Maryland Trout on the Flyrod, and a Special Memory

It was still a chilly morning at 10am when my brother Chris showed up at my house for some Washington Couty MD trout fishing fun.  The state had seen fit to stock the stream we planned to fish on Tuesday, and Thursday I had already planned to take the morning off from work and show Chris the techniques I was having success with lately tight-line nymphing.  

when we got to the stream, there was a fair amount of people fishing due to the recent stocking.  We started out on a shallow run, and I showed Chris how to direct line nymph.  He was getting the hang of it, and I soon hooked up two small rainbows.  We parted ways for a bit while he went down stream and I focused on the areas I had taken larger trout on previous trips.  Shortly, I had another smaller trout, then lost a 3rd before hooking up my line in a tree causing a pause for a total tippet replacement.  

When I had finished re-tying my double nymph rig, Chris came back and said he had to find the porta-pot and could I re-rig his rod also.  He was tickled pink he caught a fish on a nymph and had a small rainbow.  I re-tied his rig just in time for him when he returned.  He went upstream and across and I followed.  I started fishing the shallow water area before the deep hole turned rapid, when a huge rainbow grabbed my fly and the fight was on.  He didn't initially fight too hard but soon lunged and my fly reel's drag screamed.  It jumped several times clearing the water...this was a trophy fish.  I had just broken my 5x tippet on a 12-16 inch rainbow down below, so I was extra careful I didn't strain this one! 

The fight was going well, and I even pulled down my net from my back in preparation for landing him, when suddenly he made a run for the rapids.  To my horror he went into the fast water and into the rapids as my reel howled again.  He was rolling and boiling like a giant carp, and there was nothing I could do to stop him.  

He was now in the fast water, and I thought he may fight his way back to me at the head in a swirling pool, but then he rolled and continued downstream in the heavy water!  I scrambled up the wire fence re-enforced rock wall the state had to protect from erosion, but he kept going!  

My brother took this quick video of me as I was scrambling up the wall, fighting the fish, my net was caught on the mesh, and I kept stepping on my stringer of fish!  This guy wasn't slowing down.  I was panicking.  

I ran to keep up, but the water was fast and he was headed for a blowdown log.  He got to the log, and I feared he was hung up on it as I walked out on the log like a woodsman log roller.  I lost my balance and nearly fell in, total swim job, but I caught myself and just dunked a leg.  I still had the rod up with tension, but the line was "dead" and I had no idea if the fish was still there?

I eased downstream of the jam, and to my relief he came out the other side.  The dropper fly he was hooked on came loose and he was now obviously fowl hooked by the point fly of my double rig.  I slowly heaved him into the net, turned and hit the solid ground of the bank, dropping to my knees completely spent.

When he was behind that log, my dropper fly he hit on had broken and by the grace of God, the point fly caught his side long enough for me to net him.  I pulled him from the net and nothing was attached!  Geeze.  I got him on the stringer and pulled out my tape quickly.  

He was a MD trophy over 21 inches long.  The fight took me about 100 yards downstream, and my brother was there to see and film a little.  Wow!  I was exhausted.

I fished a litter longer and hooked up the last fish to complete my limit of five for the day.  It was a little brown, who again hit the silver Perdigon fly I tied.  I walked back to Chris and he took a few photos for me.  He had 3 trout as well and learned a bunch about nymphing.

Entering him into the books he was 21.75 inches long and my first MD trophy on my quest to get 10 trophy species on the flyrod

 

Getting this fish, a limit of trout, with my bother there to witness, was just a super day.  The good stuff wasn't over though.

Before leaving, a single mom came by and asked us if we could give a few casting pointers to her approximately 13-year-old son who was struggling to learn fly casting. He was too shy to ask us, but he soon came over and we had a chat.  I stopped at the porta-pot myself and upon returning I saw Chris giving the young man a full demonstration with the boy's own flyrod in the grass.  Soon he had the hang of it while I was talking with the mother.  Hopefully, we were able to kindle some fire in the "young sport" and pass on some good will to the next generation of fly fisherman.

What a day!

Back home, I realized I must have ripped a hole in the seat of my neoprene waders during one of my many falls fighting this fish.  It probably caught on the wire wall.  Oh well, a true battle.  Time to patch and repair.  Maybe I will try my home-made wading boots and my new waders next trip.  

Three-day Weekend of Trout Fishing

I was able to pack in about nine or 10 hours of fishing after work on Friday through Sunday evening.  The weather turned from rainy and raining, to sunny by Sunday afternoon.  The larger creek was running higher and darker than usual, and I was pleasantly surprised at the lack of competition from other fisherman.  

I eased into the first deep hole and immediately hooked up on what I believe to have been a >20 incher.  I fought the fish long enough to get my heart rate pumping and a good look, when he broke off my 5x tippet at the dropper.  I was bummed.  I was trying a new way to rig the dropper by using a triple surgeon's knot.  I retied and gave the new knot a pull and it broke right away.  Well, that was it for the confidence of that knot!  I switched to an improved clinch and kept fishing.  They were hitting well on the silver Perdigon dropper, and I managed a 16-inch brown and limited out with 5 fish, the balance being rainbows.  I came away knowing a trophy size rainbow was in there with my fly in its mouth, but still a feeling of accomplishment for yet another limit of fish.

Later I researched and found another knot I like that seems stronger using a 4-turn spider hitch.  This is an easy knot with no tools and seems very strong.

Saturday had me heading back to a smaller creek that had not been stocked in some time.  I knew there would not be a ton of fish, but knew of a deep hole that would hold at least one. Father up there was that large Palomino I was thwarted by a week ago.

Fishing my way up I had nary a hit.  Entering the large deep pool, I started fishing up and across stream and eventually spotted another large Palomino.  I think I bumped him as he had lock jaw, but after about 20 minutes I worked upstream slowly into the deeper current.  I was greeted with a nice 16-inch rainbow.  It was a great fight, and I was happy to get the experience fighting the larger fish with the reel.  Being a newby at fly fishing, I had always just fought the fish with my left hand and not used the reel drag.  I wanted the practice so I would not screw up another 20 incher.  He tired out and came back to the net without incident.

Nice big wide paddle tail and the start of a hooked mouth on this guy.

I unscrambled my flies and in short order had another similar trout on the line.  Two decent fish! They seem to like the pheasant tail point fly today. 

This one fell for the silver  perdigon.

In the course of the next 2-hours I had three more small trout and limited out again.  No one was on the water as there was a cool drizzle.  A great day on the water.

Back home, I took an old pair of composite toe work shoes and converted them into wading shoes for the new chest waders my friend mike gifted me.  They were too small for him, but I needed wading shoes as my neoprene ones had the boot connected.  This will be key as the temps get hotter.  I screwed in some sheet metal screws I had in the toolbox at home.  My wife is out of work from the Government job cutting, so it was time to try to make do with my broken sub-optimal rod and home-made shoes. 

 

Sunday was sunnier with a stiffer breeze, and this evening saw my friend Mike able to join me on the river.  The fishermen were there but not crowded.  

I initially was trying old 4 lb test stren monofilament instead of flourocarbon tippet material (because of that big one that got away).  I did hook up a small rainbow in the faster current but wasn't getting a number of hits.  I looked at my line in the water and decided it was too visible and changed back to 5x flouro. That did the trick, and I started getting hits again.  Mike had a decent fish as soon as his flies hit the water but it pulled free. He was struggling with getting fish or detecting them.  He eventually hooked the biggest of the day with a nice 16-inch rainbow that turned out to be his only fish.  I managed to get my limit again and had to throw back a 6th rainbow.   The bite was a little more challenging today, and most fish bit on the orange-colored hybrid fly ignoring the silver perdigon.  There was a hatch ongoing and lots of fish were hitting the top at dusk, but I was reluctant to switch to a dry.  I caught a 6 inch smallmouth and I suspected at least a portion of the fish I saw were not trout.  There was some rising trout though.  I still have a lot to learn.

Still, I was experiencing more success on the fly rod then I ever thought possible with the direct line nymphing.  I started a tally, and thus far in 9 outings I have caught 29 fish with 4 limit days.  Super happy and enjoying it. 

I plan to go out again Thursday morning with my brother Chris and try to show him my methods.  His reply back was a question if the area is "fly fishing only", so I may need to work hard to get him to change his mind that fly fishing can be just as effective as spinners.  I wasn't convinced myself until this year. I know there is at least one rainbow I threw back there to catch.  

Early April Trout Trip and New Fly Pattern to Try, Scud / Sow

 

Ahead of a cold front and several days of rain, I was able to get back out to my trout stream in Washington County for a few hours.  I wasn't expecting too much action as the state had not stocked this area for some time, and it was a popular pressured section situated in a public park.  

There were already about half-dozen fisherman scattered about, and the water was a little higher and more turbid than normal.  I was pleasantly surprised when I hooked a small fish within the first dozen drifts.  It took my heavier point fly that was a lighter tan color body that I had tied after the last trip.  After landing, my line was considerably tangled in the net, and around the stinger I now had the fish connected to.  I had to cut loose my flies and retie them to get everything untangled.  

Continuing down the run a bit, I hooked a second trout, but halfway through the fight he broke loose, and I suspect it was due to a bad knot I tied.  My eyes aren't what they used to be and when the light is low and overcast sometimes my bifocal fishing glasses make it difficult.  Anyway, I was optimistic that I had two fish on in a short amount of time.

As I continued to fish, more fisherman started to trickle in as the weather cleared up a bit.  I only saw two other fisherman with single trout on the stringer, and none of them were using fly gear. I spotted a lone tenkara fisherman as well, but I didn't observe him fighting any fish either before he moved off.  I made my way up into the better and deeper areas and felt a fish on one of my drifts.  I missed him but kept trying that area until I felt the same bumps and this time hooked up on a little bigger rainbow, landing him without much trouble.  

After a while, I had a third fish on in the fast flow.  Fighting for a few seconds he eventually pulled loose the fly and was gone.  Bummer.  This time it just wasn't hooked solidly enough, so I felt a little better than the one I lost due to a poor knot.

By this time, I had to pack up soon to go to a music recital my son was involved in, so I headed back downstream again.  Still trying to tweak my gear and learn this style, I had a few times where I saw a trout flash sideways after my flies but never detected or felt the strike.  I believe that I may have had too much tippet between my sighter section and that allowed more bow in the line preventing me from a close contact to feel those strikes.  Next time I will shorten up the tippet for that depth and see if it makes a difference.

looking back on the trip it was a success, as I had hooked 4 trout, had at least two other strikes, and came away with 2 for the pan.  I learned a bit and was excited to go back and try for the couple I left back there.  

Back at home I examined the stomach contents of the fish I had caught.  Both fish had been in the river a while and their flesh started to turn "salmon" pink from the white when they are stocked.  This indicates a diet high on insects.  They had been feeding heavily on aquatic sow bugs as seen in this photo:

That Sunday, I decided to try my hand at tying some imitations and scud pattern to mimic those for the next trip.  I am excited to try back with these in my arsenal along with some shorter tippit / leader combinations after these next several days of cooler and wetter weather. 

Inexpensive 3D Turkey Season Practice

Getting along with my new bow Sagittarius.  A little turkey practice fun!