Just spent four days of solo brain-drain turkey hunting along the Purgatoire River in Southeastern Colorado. The hunt site was about as far away from civilization in Colorado as I could find. Twenty five miles south of La Junta, then 23 miles of dirt road to the ranch headquarters, 4 more miles into the ranch to the campsite and a final 2 1/2 mile mountain bike ride each morning to the roost area.
I wasn't entirely off the bike. Days before the hunt were spent outfitting the race retired 2007 ASR with a shotgun rack, GPS mount and hiking boot friendly platform pedals. The head strap mounted Petzel provided enough light to follow cattle trails on the pre-dawn rides in.
I believe I'm safe in declaring that I'm the first person ever to baptise an XTR crankset in the Purgatoire River crossing it twice a day to get to the roost areas.
Continental Mountain King tubeless 2.4's worked great in the land if prickly pear and cholla catus, sandburrs and yucca. Evidence of many punctures were present but the Stan's did its job every time.
In 1982 the Sarge was living in Oklahoma and feverishly involved in the out-of-doors. Before the passion was mountain bikes, I was chasing wild turkeys and slaying monster large-mouth bass every chance I had. I'm twenty seven years old in the photo above with one of my first birds. 
During the last 27 years, the birds have gotten smarter. I evidently have not. After setting up on the same lone gobbler and his hens three mornings in a row, the closest I could call him in was about 75 yards. Just out of shotgun range. God bless him!
No comments:
Post a Comment