Ah yes! Once again, I begin my quest for the ever elusive Bow-Turkey; the Wild Turkey which I will harvest with a stick-and-string, a bow and arrow. My previous efforts to achieve this holy grail of Turkey hunting have shown this to be a pretty lofty goal and not easily achieved. But I am still tryin’!

A little background fer ye! A bowhunting friend of mine put a bug in my ear a few years back about bowhunting for elk in Colorado. So began a hellacious amount of research on my part; outfitters, drop camps, GPS units, boots, packs, bowhunting tackle requirements, elk behavior, etc., etc. and near-endless strings of questions on various hunting-talk forums, in an effort to glean some valuable info from the elk-experienced hunters I found there. During this research, I bumped into a fellow bow-elk enthusiast from NE, named Scott Herbolsheimer. …and they called him “Herb”. Herb has been a great source of information, primarily due to the fact that he’s been chasing the wily wapiti (elk) for 14-15 years. He runs goats instead of the usual horses that most outfitters use, but he is not an outfitter himself. Per Herb, the goats have proven to be a low-maintenance alternative to horses as they can munch on the local vegetation and leave little trace that they have been through an area. The goats can carry 40 to 50 lbs each, which helps to get the necessary equipment uphill to likely elk habitat and elk meat and said-equipment back down to the trailhead. But enough about the durn goats!

After a while, the conversations I had with Herb turned to the Wild Turkey, a bird that has me itching for Spring to come each year. I’ve been chasing them for about 5 years now in Minnesota, got two gun harvests under my belt but the bow turkey hasn’t fallen by my arrow…yet. Herb invited me down last year to chase Nebraska Gobblers near his home. I didn’t make it last year but this year IT’S ON, MR. GOBBLER!! Ya see, Herb called me up early this year and said that he had some room on his “2005 Elk Team” and “would (I) like to go along?”. He had room for myself, and one more so I contacted the other guys and asked who could commit to an elk hunt in Fall 2005. So it went, myself, and a buddy are headed out this fall with Herb to chase the elk around Colorado. We are headed to Nebraska in early April 2005 to chase turkeys, look over the equipment that Herb has for the elk hunt and enjoy some good times. Of course, the primary goal is to arrow a nice fat Gobbler.

The Nebraska Archery Turkey season runs from March 25 until May 15 and the tag is $66 for us Non-Resident types, plus you need to buy a NE Habitat Stamp for $13, bringing the total to $79. Up to two tags can be purchased per hunter in the spring season. I purchased one tag online and didn’t plan on worrying about needing a second tag until sometime after the first tag gets punched. My superstitious nature keeps me from getting too cocky and buying two tags right off the bat.

Mr. Herb informed us about the large area that we will be allowed to hunt and had us primed with stories of the gobblers on these properties. His plan was to bag a gobbler on his own property and he would have almost two weeks to “Git ‘er Done” before we would arrive and begin our own quest for the elusive bow gobbler.

The first days hunt for Herb and his buddy, Brian Hilgenfeld aka Hilg, yielded 5 Jakes that came into 8 yards from the blind but no shot was taken. Herb reported that he saw “40+ Gobblers chasing 60 or so hens around”, which indicated that at the time of the season opener the birds are still in winter flocks. Sounds like we will be hitting the time about right when we get down there! The buddy with whom I’ll be traveling down to Nebraska will be shooting a brand new Bowtech Allegiance which includes Bowtech’s new Equalizer Cam system and I’ll be shooing a 2002 Bowtech Patriot Single Cam. I’ll be shooting Rocket Aeroheads’ Buckblaster, which weighs 110 grains without the fixed blades installed so it will be purely an expandable head with an open cutting diameter of 2.75”. My buddy will be shooting Cabela’s expandables which are produced also by Rocket. If I miss with the Buckblasters, (c’mon! When have I ever missed??!!), I’ll have 3 arrows tipped with Rocket’s Hammerhead at 100grains and 2” cutting diameter. We will be hunting out of my Double Bull T-2 blind and a Big Game blind which is nearly identical to the square Double Bull BS5, and we will be attempting to get video of our hunts that we can later copy onto DVD’s for our own private use. I have noticed videoing hunts is getting very popular so I thought, “Why not give it a try?”

On the Monday after the opener, Herb and Hilg managed to sneak within bow range of a group of birds. The birds sported bright red heads, a firm indication of gobbler-hood, or at least maleness. When the group got to about 30 yards, Hilg took aim and released. Making a solid hit on one of the Jakes in the group, the first bird was down. The arrow took the broadside bird a bit high but it only traveled 40 yards further before it was down for the count like Joe Frasier in the famous Rumble in the Jungle boxing match between Frasier and Muhammed Ali. I guess you might call this bow turkey adventure, “Rumble in the Tumble (weeds)”.

Over the next few days, Herb’s messages indicated that the large flocks appeared to be breaking up. This should make for a little easier hunting. Of course, there aren’t many experience turkey hunters that will say that turkey hunting is easy. About the time you think you’ve got the birds figured out, they’ll throw a new wrinkle into the game. That is what is so awesome about Turkey hunting and all hunting for that matter. It’s always exciting and no two days are the same.

Another report from Herb and Hilg: they hunted the second weekend of the season and had 2 hens come in with 5 gobblers in tow. They had heard a hen yelping and called her in but she circled wide when she spotted the Jake decoy. In the heat of the moment, which resulted in a small misjudgement of blind-window size, Hilg missed a gobbler and was temporarily mystified as to why he had missed. That was until he noticed the large broadhead shaped hole in the side of his new blind! The birds can get your adrenalin flowing when you are ready to shoot! It happens to the best of us. I did the same thing during practice last spring. Unfortunately, the running tally remains at only 1 bird at this time.

Finally, the day arrived. Worked until 10 AM and hit the road, headed to NE with my buddy Glen. The wait was OVER, bow is tuned, arrows are hitting where I aim and the truck is packed! Let’s go!

First and Most Important of all, THANK YOU to Herb (Scott Herbolsheimer) for hosting us at his home in NE. He went out of his way to get us into birds, give us comfy lodgings, delicious food, camraderie ( ya know...fellow ship with yer other huntin' types) and it was big fun to be his guests! In the Pic, you'll see my ugly mug on the left, Herb in the middle with the major bird of the weekend and Glen on the right. Glen and I got our first ever bow birds, both Jakes but we are proud as heck of 'em and Glen said that his hunt was the most exciting hunt he's ever been on. Now that's saying something!

Here I go: We got down on Thursday night, 'bout 7 hr. drive from home and hit Herbs at about the 400 mile mark on the ol' odometer. A quick how-do-you-do with Herbs family and my buddy Glen Blair and I, and we were off to roost birds. Saw 'em, roosted 'em, had elk steaks for dinner and hit the hay for an early morning session of bow-turkey chasing. Friday morning was quiet, Glen and I were on top of a ridge/pasture and the birds were gobbling down the hill on both sides of the ridge. None bothered to saunter on by the dekes, in spite of our all too irresistible calling technique. We threw yelps, clucks, cuts and purrs out and the pheasants LOVED 'em! Of course, the turkeys weren't excited enough to actual come in to view. So we went "runnin' and gunnin", the ultimate challenge for the bow-turkey chaser.

The Nebraska wind was working hard to blow us away and probably kept the birds from hearing our calls. The Gobblers seemed to know exactly where the hens were and were keeping close tabs on them. Glen and I figured we'd start prospecting, grabbed calls, threw the dekes into the blind and took our bows and quivers and started moving around the "upper pasture". We threw enticing calls down the hill on several sides, did some listening and glassing but didn't hear much response. We were down the west side of the pasture-ridge and headed back over to the other side when Glen spotted movement. We dumb-lucked, spotting the bird with a glance down the length of the pasture. He was just making his way into the brush so we quick backed out of sight and formulated a plan: We'll throw "elk tactics at him"! I gave Glen the option of choosing who would be calling and who would be the shooter, Glen said you take first shot so he tucked himself up against a cedar and I worked my way through the brush to another cedar that was just off the edge of the pasture. Glen's calls were barely audible in the stiff wind and I was doing my best to keep an eye for birds and remain concealed. I had heard that leafy camo was the ticket for non-blind bow turkeys so I was wearing mine, looking like a well-armed bush.
It was probably about 5 minutes since Glen had spotted the bird when 3 Jakes came in to view. Looks like this just might work, I thought to myself. I carefully got on my knees, nocked one of my arrows and watched the birds and checked for holes to shoot through, in case the birds kept coming. The adrenalin was pumping and I was breathing hard as the birds surveyed the area carefully. These were no longbeards but if I got lucky, I was gonna shoot myself a jake! I'd been practicing shooting in all kinds of positions, standing, kneeling, leaning, etc., and I was ready. The first bird got by my shooting lane and two were standing in it, just to my left when I lifted my bow and drew. Dang! They spotting me and started looking nervous. Actually, they were just looking MORE nervous as turkeys are ALWAYS nervous! The two turned directly away from me and started to Putt, the turkey alarm call "get outta here boys, there's a hunter in that tree!!" I let the arrow down and quickly shifted my attention to the first bird, and made a slow turn to my right, scanning for a shooting hole. I knew I had to "get on it" before the birds decided standing around looking wasn't as good of an idea as getting the heck outta there. I had about 6" between two branches on the cedar and the wind was making it tough to figure when the time to shoot through the swinging branches was the right time. The bird was walking away when I turned a little more and drew, focusing on the bird (what about using your pins, Tom??). I plumb forgot about sight pins, got the bow up and let the arrow go. Funny how that split second with the animal close can make you forget ALL your days of practice and constant mental self-talk. "He's close! I gotta get an arrow in him. Uh, uh, shoot him, shoot him, shoot him now!!" You've probably been there yourself, I'll bet, if you’ve ever bowhunted.

The bird exploded into the air in a cloud of feathers. Glen said that he heard the shot and saw the bird take a jump. The bird hit the ground again and stood upright! His tail feathers were considerably shorter than before my broadhead had expanded and cut through them cleanly. Yes folks, I had shot behind the bird. To be honest, I can't say I even looked at my sight pins. I had made the mistake of ignoring the bowhunter's mantra of "Pick a spot" and had aimed at the whole bird. Ka-rap! I exclaimed under my breath as I watched the bird NOT falling, not dropping over dead, but very much alive, walking off into the woods out of sight with his two friends in tow.

After the hit that didn't kill, the arrow headed off to parts unknown, out of the bow, through the tail feathers, up over the hill and gone. Glen and I searched but even the white wraps and light-up nock didn't help us find the arrow. We decided to call it a morning, grabbed the equipment and headed toward the truck, walking along the fence at the top of the ridge. I happened to stop and look down the hill and spotted movement. There they were! The group of 3 jakes that I had tried to reduce to only 2 were moving away from us along the hill. I know it was the same 3 birds because one had a serious lack of tail plumage! Con sarn it!

We grabbed lunch at Herb's, heard his reports and headed back out about 2 PM or so. We set up a few times but didn't hear any birds calling in the stiff spring wind. The day ended without any additional turkey involved excitement. Hopefully Saturday would be a more successful day.

Saturday morning dawned after a sleep that seemed to last for seconds. Glen and I set up down the hill from Friday morning's spot because of the bird's we'd heard from the top of the hill on Friday. There was some gobbling but again, the wind had been blowing for about 24 hours and gusting often, so our hearing skills were being severely tested. I can tell you that I may have listened to too much heavy metal and other forms of loud music because wind really does a number on my ability to pick out distant gobbles due to a good bit of hearing damage. A certain early morning urge hit me and I had to hit the truck for some paper for some "paperwork" that just had to get done ASAP! I headed to the truck, did what I had to do, then headed back to the blind. I spotted a large bird in the next pasture on the way back but I think it might have been a goose. Whatever it was, it just couldn't be enticed with our calling! Well, OK, time for Plan B!

We headed up to the pasture where we had been on Friday morning, the location of the non-fatal feather trimming. We figured that the birds were probably working the edges of the hills and heading toward water down near the end of the ridge. We'd have to prospect for birds, one shooter, one caller, and hope we'd strike up a conversation with a gobbler. As before, the wind was making it difficult to hear turkeys and even difficult to hear calling from more than 30 or so yards away. We started at the fence and worked our way down the hilltop pasture, switching caller and shooter roles as we made our way down. I called loudly when Glen was the shooter and he was doing the same when the roles were reversed. We got close to the end of the pasture, near an erosion ditch, not far from the border of the private land we were hunting and the public land to our north. I was the shooter, Glen the caller, so I headed behind a good sized cedar while Glen took position on the opposite side of the open pasture. The elevation of the pasture peaked in the center, Glen and I were unable to see each other and unable to see the opposite field edge. Glen called loudly but it barely reached my ears. I inspected the tree for shooting lanes to my left and right and tucked in as best I could to remain concealed. 10 minutes later, after numerous calling sequences. I spotted movement to my left, down wind, on the other side of the erosion ditch.

My heart-rate jumped a bit when I spotted the red head of a male bird come around one of the pines on the other side of the ditch, followed by 4 other red heads. The group of 5 Jakes was coming in silent, a few with beards that looked like chimney brushes, probably from facing into the wind on the roost all night long. Glen's calling was working and these birds were coming in, looking. I took a deep breath as they disappeared from view for a minute, adjusted my position a bit and got my bow in front of me, release hooked up and tucked myself a little farther into the cedar. The first of their heads peeked over the edge of the ditch and stepped into the field, there were 5 Jakes, no longbeards in the bunch but I didn't care, I was hear to bag a bird and it looked like it was going to be my turn right here. The previous day's tail-cutting flashed through my mind and my conscience said "Use the pins and Pick a SPOT!” I slowly moved by bow arm into position as the birds scanned the area. 2 birds passed my narrow shooting lane and the other birds were looking away when I drew the bow and came to anchor. One bird lagged behind the others so I focused on him, put the pin on his wing-butt and squeezed the trigger on my release. The shot was about 15 yards and the arrow hit just slightly left of where I aimed with a "thwop!" The bird's chest dropped to the ground and it sat motionless. One of the lead birds turned around and instantly walked on top of the bird, eyeing it curiously from above. For a few minutes the other birds walked around their downed comrade as it sat alert but not moving. Then it's head started to get closer to the ground. The other birds seemed to sense something was wrong and soon began to work a few yards farther up the pasture. Glen had not seen the birds at this point and had been calling the whole time. He saw a red head pop up over the hill and Glen carefully kneeled down to grab his bow and stood back up. The birds never came over to Glen's side of the hill and headed off. Glen carefully extracted himself from behind the brush and snuck out into the pasture, out of sight of the birds. By the time he peeked over the hill, the birds were running into the woods. He looked back down the pasture and saw my bird giving it's final kicks. The shot had taken out the birds legs, as intended, at it was going nowhere fast. I quickly ran out into the pasture, saw Glen and shouted; "That bird is DOWN!"

After inspecting the bird, the broadhead and the hit location on the bird, we huffed it down the hill and grabbed the video camera for a bit of "pro-fesh-un-al T.V. huntin'-type Camera fun". After that it was time to head in for lunch and get that bird on ice.

For the afternoon, Herb took us to another of his hot spots, luring us with wild tails of Gobblers seen and other turkey activity that had taken place that morning. Herb had a bird that he couldn't confirm as male at 8 yards. We got a call from him on the radio and he asked; "Do hens display (strut like a gobbler)?" We said we didn't think so but with turkeys, ya just never know! Herb described the birds as having a red head (like a jake or a gobbler), it was strutting like a gobbler around his decoy, but only yelped like a hen, never gobbled once. A legal bird in NE is described in the regs. as "a male bird or a bearded hen". Since the bird never gobbled, only yelped, Herb couldn't positively identify the bird as a male so he didn't take a shot. Glen and I heard birds from our set-up but they never came our direction. At the end of the day, we heard what we thought was a turkey running through the leaves just down the hill from us, then it flew up in a trees. It seemed as if the bird waited until we had gathered our stuff to get out of there, then ran in and roosted just as soon as we left. Sneaky, huh?

The weather forecast, checked every morning, pre-hunt, by Mr. Herb, was saying that rain was on the horizon and coming fast for Sunday morning. We'd have to get on the birds before the rain came. The good news was that the wind had finally died down and was only a light breeze. Perfect conditions for hearing birds and for the birds hearing us. Mr. Herb was off to a spot that hadn't been hunted, a mucho grande CRP-grass field with a Nebraska-typical creek bed with trees cutting through the low side. Glen and I decided to stick it out in the place we'd been the last two mornings, with a slight change in tactics. We planned to hit the "high-pasture" at first light, do some listening for Gobbling birds, then try to cut the distance and set up the blind. We climbed up to the gate at the end of the pasture, lightly called a bit and listened, Glen on one side of the hill and myself on the other. Glen spotted movement just over the hill, out in the grass field and quickly ducked down and grabbed his bow. He figured the Gobbler hadn't seen him and he might have a chance; all he could see was the round top of the birds fan but hadn't seen or heard any other birds around it. As it turned out, it was wise that Glen had decided not to start his stalk prematurely, for suddenly the fan appeared odd to Glen. There was an odd whiteness to the fan, not typical of the Merriam's turkey species where the fan is ringed in white-tipped feathers but this “fan” had more of a line of white. You might say it had a white stripe. Yes folks, Glen almost blundered himself into a dose of freshly squeezed skunk juice. The kind that only goes good with tomato juice and a heck of a lot of it!

The skunk was rooting around just over the edge of the top of the hill, most of the time with it's tail up and, in the dim light, it could have been (and was) mistaken for a turkey fan seen at a farther distance away than Mr. Skunk actually was. Glen figured it was best to just back off and let Mr. Skunk figure out that maybe it was best to go away from us. We called a few times and the skunk went on his way and, needless to say, us non-skunk hunters were pretty relieved.

We decided to avoid bumping any other stink-cats around so we set-up near the gate. A few weeks earlier, Herb had seen a flock of close to 100 turkeys in the field we were next to and almost half of those birds were gobblers. Of course, that was a "winter flock" and "break-up" had already taken place, but still we held on to hope that the odds would swing in our favor.

We could hear birds down the hill from us as sunrise time arrived but they didn't sound like they were getting any closer. The conditions in Nebraska had been dry for quite a few months and birds need water so we guessed that's where they were headed. And time was running out for us Minnesota boys, we had to get back that evening so we could get back to our wives and (a revolting thought) our jobs. It was time to run and gun. Glen was the shooter and I would handle the camera and most of the calling duties in order to keep the birds attention off of Glen.

We headed to the far end of the pasture, where the 5 Jakes had come from the previous day, and we separated, waited a few minutes, then I began to call. I threw the most enticing and sometimes aggressive calls out in various directions. Every once in a while, we'd hear a gobble far off. I figured these gobbles were coming from birds that had not heard my calling but turkeys CAN hear long distances so you just never know until you know. We gave each spot 20 minutes or so and hoped for a response. Again, the pheasants LOVED my calling! But the gobblers didn't seem nearly as impressed as the pheasants! We worked our way all the way back up the pasture, to where we had the blind, then we headed down the hill toward a dry creek bed, close to where we had heard gobbling earlier in the day.

On Thursday night when we had arrived at Herb's place, he took us around to look for turkeys and hopefully roost a bird or two. The creek bed was the exact area where we had roosted some birds on Thursday and that was the main reason why we had been concentrating our efforts on this property. We tucked ourselves into some cut cedars about half way between the blind and the creek bed. The sky was looking dark and we knew that we'd be in for some rain at any minute. It had been threatening to rain all morning but now we could smell the rain coming. It was time to pull out all the stops. The spot in the cedars proved fruitless so I grabbed the camera, Glen grabbed his bow and pack and we headed down to the creek bed.

Once we got there, Glen said he'd head over to the other side of the narrow creek bed and I told him I'd sit behind a thorny bush on the opposite side from him. From the creek, the grassy hill rose up to a group of taller cedars at the peak then flattened out. I gave Glen a few minutes to get into position and took a few minutes myself to get the camera ready. I have little experience with camcorders and had a bit of trouble. I was filming through the top of a bush so I had to manually focus the camera, not to mention hold the durn thing as still as I could. I let out a few yelps, some purrs and some quick clucks and waited, fiddling with the camera focus and zoom. Now I know why a tripod is a must! We had one at the start of our hunt but the camera attachment just couldn't survive this vigorous hunting adventure so I was "free-handing" it. Another calling sequence and we heard that awesome sound that turkey hunters are listening hard for, "GOBBLE"!

After that first gobble ripped the stillness, I struggled to spot the birds and man the camera and call at the same time. I estimated the birds to be just to the left of where Glen was waiting so I pitched my calling to the right, hoping to draw the bird in that direction. Another gobble was heard, louder than the first, indicating that the bird was on his way. The third gobble was joined by a fourth not quite as loud, sounding nearly simultaneously. Two birds! We had at least two birds and they were hot and headed our direction! The first stepped out from behind the pines and cautiously (turkeys are ALWAYS cautious) eyed the scene below him. A second bird appeared and came down the hill around the pines and headed farther left of our position and broke into strut. The center feathers of his tail-fan indicated that it was a Jake, but his young age didn't keep him from strutting his stuff for all to see. Pretty soon, both were strutting and gobbling at our calls. Glen had seen the birds headed left, away from us, and was adding his calling into the mix to try and keep the birds interested. "GOBBLE!-GOBBLE-GOBBLE!", the sound was almost deafening and I was having trouble keeping the camera from shaking and keeping the birds in the view finder and in focus! (It was the camera shaking, not ME!) After a few more gobbles, it started to rain, just as we had expected, and I hoped that this wouldn't end the show. The two Jakes started to come back toward Glen and were scanning everything, looking for the hens that were sweet-talking to them. There's nothing better than having the birds respond to your calling and gobble right in front of you and these birds weren't disappointing either Glen or myself. I was softly calling, trying not to have the birds pin-point my position by "throwing" my calls to my right side. The rain picked up a bit but the birds didn't seem to be bothered. I could tell that both were well within bow-range and I waited for Glen to shoot, watching the birds carefully. One of the birds turned back toward the hill and took a few steps away. "Shoot, man, Shoot!" I whispered under my breath, "they're gonna leave!". I widened the lens a bit to get both birds in the viewfinder and then I heard a sharp "THWOP!" and one of the birds took off running. I could see the arrow sticking out of him as he ran for 20 yards in a semi-circle and abruptly tipped over forward! That bird was DOWN!

The other bird seemed to consider the situation for a second and then hightailed it up and over the hill. I got the camera on the downed bird and whispered into the mic "That, folks, is a dead bird." I got up with the camera still running, got it focused on Glen and he yelled "Yeah, Baby! That's what I'm talkin' about!"
We'd done it! We had come 7 hours from Minnesota on a quest for our first-ever bow turkeys, we'd practiced like there was no tomorrow, had figured out what tactics to use and we now had two bow-birds headed for the freezer and the cooker. It was nothing but AWESOME! Glen said that it was the most exciting hunt he'd ever been on, Bar NONE! He'd taken his bird at 7 yards, close enough for the bird's gobbles to blow his hair back, and had made a perfect hit!

We put the final ending on the video segment, including our product placements (I know, we ARE Cheesy Dudes sometimes!), gathered the bird and headed back home just as the downpour started. We were damp but our spirits were far from dampened as we headed to Herb's place to prepare for our trip back to 'sota.

Got back to Herb's just a few minutes before Herb himself did and gave him the whole blow-by-blow on the mornings hunt. He told us about his morning, he'd set-up pre-dawn as usual and things were quiet. He gave a few calls on his box call and the treeline behind him lit up with dozens of gobbles! It turned out to be a few hours of a "Breeding fest" of turkeys. He'd been on birds all weekend but hadn't brought any home. We talked and waited for the rain to quit so we could get some pictures of our birds. Of course, we had to have a nice cold beer to celebrate! When the rain started to peter out, Herb started unloading his equipment from the truck. We almost didn't notice that one of the pieces of "equipment" had feathers! Yup, Herb had scored and scored BIG! A 20+ lb. mature gobbler with 10"+ beard and nice sharp spurs. Apparently it had been a good morning for Herb, too! O'course, you'll have to ask Herb about that!
Thanks a billion Herb, we owe you big time!

Equipment info:
I was shooting a 2002 Bowtech Patriot Single Cam set at 67lbs. and 28" draw length. My arrows were 432 gr.(approx.) total weight Carbon Express CX300Hunters, cut to 28", with Lumenocks (lighted nocks) and arrow wraps, fletched with 4" feathers. The arrows were tipped with Rocket Hammerheads, 100gr, 3-blade 2" cut expandables and Rocket Buckblasters, 110gr, 3-Blade 2.75" cut expandables. Arrow speed: 265, 66 ft. pds. of KE.
Glen was shooting a brand new (just a couple weeks old) 2005 Bowtech Allegiance with the Equalizer Cam system, set at 60 lbs., 28" draw length. ARrows: CArbon Express CX300's cut to 27", total arrow weight I believe is in the mid 350 gr. range, speed is in the mid 280's (estimated). Broadhead: NAP Spitfire Gobbler Getter expandable 3 blade, 1.5" cut.
The Buckblaster cut tail feathers, the Hammerhead busted my birds thigh bones and immobilized it and the Spitfire broke Glen's bird's heart.

Now I'm on a quest for another bow bird. My wife and I will be hunting in 2 weeks, she'll be going for her second bird and I will be going for my 4th, second with a bow.

Best of Luck to all!