Fishing Prince of Wales Island, Alaska

A Great Alaskan Adventure Bill Cooper MWO 8/15 Our trio of float planes banked hard to the north into Thorne Bay. A panoramic view of the vast Tongass National Forest on Prince of Wales Island and the watery world of southeast Alaska popped into view like a gigantic mural. Walt Fulps, owner of www.missouri.trouthunter.com, worked feverishly over a period of several weeks completing the details to host 12 fly fishermen for a week of fishing, exploring and socializing in the vast reaches of the nation’s third largest island. After a short jaunt through the fishing village of Thorne Bay, our party reached the charming comforts of Thorne Bay Lodge. Numerous superbly decorated rooms greeted our tired adventurers. After settling in, three of us hopped on a boat wiBrent Dickinson, the lodge owner, and headed out into the bay to check crab pots. Thirty minutes later we had enough Dungeness crabs for dinner. Fulps divided party members into groups and made assignments for the next day after dinner. Beginning flyfishermen headed to Thorne River with him the next morning for lessons. Others headed out early to Coffman Cove to hook up with Cpt. John Rodriguez of J and J Charters for halibut, salmon and cod. Despite the spectacular river scenery anglers enjoyed, fishing proved slow. An unprecedented drought had occurred during the previous 10 weeks, an unusual happenstance for a temperate rain forest. The rains returned the day we landed. Our hopes ran high that the spawning runs would begin. In the meantime, our crew kept checking various rivers and streams, but settled for Dolly Varden and the occasional sockeye and coho salmon. The spectacular scenery combined with bear and Sitka black tailed deer sightings more than made up for the temporary shortage of fish, however. The guys who fished with the J and J Charter boat experienced Alaskan fishing at it’s best. Everyone enjoyed the 30 minutes each morning to catch smelt on tiny jigs. Soon after, baits dropped into 250 feet of water began to tantalize cod and halibut. Everyone on board shouted their support when 78-year-old Walt Fulps, Sr. watched his rod go down hard. The retired seaman was no stranger to strong fish. He leaned into the rod heavily while cranking his reel handle frantically. The powerful halibut seemed to gain the upper hand as it stripped line. Fulps groaned and held on, soon gaining line once again. Just when it looked like the heavy fish would succumb, it raced for the bottom a gain. Fulps took a seat, laid his rod across the gunwale and put more pressure on the big halibut. Minutes later everyone cheered when Cpt. John snared the fish’s tail and flung it into the bottom of the boat. Exhausted, but proud, Fulps had the biggest halibut of the day flopping a this feet. I filmed the entire battle. On day two, I traveled to Log Jam Falls, a spectacular shut-ins, with part of the crew. For the first few minutes, we stood watching as salmon attempted to jump the falls. It seemed that few could make it as the spawning fish flung themselves into the air, often crashing into the rocks. Steve Waldron began casting and within minutes hooked a powerful Coho salmon. The fish immediately turned and went over a drop it had just cleared. Waldron danced the two step as he negotiated slippery rocks down the gulch and chased the fish downstream. We stood in awe expecting the fish to win the epic fight. Waldron prevailed. Our group compiled an unbelievable log of fish stories and tall tales. A new legend was born in the process. Dan Nelson became the epitome of the flyfishing angler and gained great fame in a matter of days. His name became a cabin hold word. I even heard that sharks in the area hold a Dan Nelson Week. River fishing picked by the day as rains continued to fall. Groups reported seeing hundreds of fish making their way up stream by the hundreds. The general word was that the fish traveled fast as if they were late for spawning. Only the occasional fish fell to a lure. I spent the last day of the trip on the J and J Charters boat with Cpt. John. Silver salmon were staging in the bays at the mouths of the rivers. We headed straight to one and began seeing pods of fish immediately. We cast medium size Mepps Flying C spinners with great success. I hooked my sixth Coho 22 minutes after I began fishing. Cpt. John headed to deeper water for halibut. An hour later, all four of us on board had our halibut , plus a few cod. An organized group with an experienced leader is a great way to enjoy Alaska fishing. I highly recommend the following: Walt Fulps. www.missouritrouthunter.com. Thorne Bay Lodge. www.thornebaylodge.com. J and J Charters. www.jandjcharters.com. Too, consider using Alaska Airlines. www.alaskaairlines.com. They offer a credit card which will reduce your original air fare and also award points towards future flights.

Take a Kid Outdoors Bill Cooper for StJ Leader Journal 4/14/15 Ten-year-old Lance Ybarra, of Rolla, is an outdoors kid through and through. He would almost rather be outside doing something rather than eat, according his father, Patrick. That is obviously an obsession with the outdoors. Lance and Patrick have been family friends for almost a decade. They regularly show up at our family functions, especially the critter cook-out that my daughter, Jessica and husband Jason Parsons host each year. Lance and his dad spend a great deal of time preparing frog legs, a variety of fish and jalapeno poppers. They almost always have a new recipe to try out on all of their friends, which they enjoy immensely. “Lance has always loved the outdoors,” said Patrick. “He has tagged along with me since before he could walk. After he started walking, well, it was all over. I could never leave the house without him.” The Ybarras, like many outdoorsmen, were drawn to water. “Lance loves the water and became an adept fisherman at an early age,” Patrick explained. “It takes a good deal of effort to take a kid fishing, but it is worth it, especially if they love it as much as Lance.” Early in Lance’s fishing career, Patrick didn’t get a lot of fishing done himself. “You have to keep your eye on a little guy,” he said. “Inquisitive by nature, Lance has always had to investigate everything, even while fishing. It makes for an interesting day when he is flipping rocks to catch bugs and crayfish or throwing rocks when I”m trying to fish. It was always OK, though. He was such fun to watch.” Kids are inquisitive by nature, especially in the outdoors. “I don’t know how he comes up with so many questions,” Patrick continued. “I now one thing for sure, Lance has caused me to think about the many facets of the outdoors. If I can’t answer one of his questions, or we can’t figure it out together, we do a little research ton come up with the answer.” The father-son Ybarra team have found lots of answers to outdoor questions over the years. They can be seen traipsing about the outdoors almost every weekend. “The outdoors is a great source of entertainment for us,” Patrick said. “It doesn’t matter, if it swims, flys, crawls, hops or slithers, we like to check it out. We hike, swim, canoe, fish, frog gig and investigate what is over the next hill, together.” “Lance, really is a neat kid,” said Nick Cox, a youth minister at the Rolla Church of God. “He is so inquisitive. Too, he is a very happy kid.” Lances enthusiasm for the outdoors is contagious. I’ve worked in the outdoors most of my adult life, often working with outdoor youth groups. Lance exudes enthusiasm about the outdoors. He is a fresh breath of air, exactly the type I’ve always hoped kids in my outdoor classes would turn out to be. It is a proven fact that exposure to the outdoors helps kids mentally, physically and spiritually. Millions of dollars are spent by state and federal agencies and private outdoor companies each to encourage kids to get into the outdoors. However, nothing influences a child’s enjoyment of the outdoors like a parent, family member or personal friend who will take the time to take them outdoors on a regular basis. Lance Ybarra is a rare find, a kid who is immersed in the outdoors and one who has developed incredible talents at any early age. Lance has joined me on the Outside Again Adventures TV - Online program and will soon be hosting his own segment, “Outdoor Kids,” on Outside Again Adventures Radio. I had the pleasure to take Lance catfishing recently. His skills proved phenomenal. He caught numerous catfish in the 6-to-10 pound range, landing the largest all by himself. He wrestled the fish for almost 1o minutes before expertly sliding the wriggly fish into a landing net like a pro. Lance and my granddaughter, Jaydin, are accompanying me for the youth turkey season. We will be camped near the Current River. They are excited beyond belief and the competition for bragging rights has started.Lance may have met his match. I’ll report on that after the hunt.

Take a Kid Outdoors

Take a Kid Outdoors Bill Cooper for StJ Leader Journal 4/14/15 Ten-year-old Lance Ybarra, of Rolla, is an outdoors kid through and through. He would almost rather be outside doing something rather than eat, according his father, Patrick. That is obviously an obsession with the outdoors. Lance and Patrick have been family friends for almost a decade. They regularly show up at our family functions, especially the critter cook-out that my daughter, Jessica and husband Jason Parsons host each year. Lance and his dad spend a great deal of time preparing frog legs, a variety of fish and jalapeno poppers. They almost always have a new recipe to try out on all of their friends, which they enjoy immensely. “Lance has always loved the outdoors,” said Patrick. “He has tagged along with me since before he could walk. After he started walking, well, it was all over. I could never leave the house without him.” The Ybarras, like many outdoorsmen, were drawn to water. “Lance loves the water and became an adept fisherman at an early age,” Patrick explained. “It takes a good deal of effort to take a kid fishing, but it is worth it, especially if they love it as much as Lance.” Early in Lance’s fishing career, Patrick didn’t get a lot of fishing done himself. “You have to keep your eye on a little guy,” he said. “Inquisitive by nature, Lance has always had to investigate everything, even while fishing. It makes for an interesting day when he is flipping rocks to catch bugs and crayfish or throwing rocks when I”m trying to fish. It was always OK, though. He was such fun to watch.” Kids are inquisitive by nature, especially in the outdoors. “I don’t know how he comes up with so many questions,” Patrick continued. “I now one thing for sure, Lance has caused me to think about the many facets of the outdoors. If I can’t answer one of his questions, or we can’t figure it out together, we do a little research ton come up with the answer.” The father-son Ybarra team have found lots of answers to outdoor questions over the years. They can be seen traipsing about the outdoors almost every weekend. “The outdoors is a great source of entertainment for us,” Patrick said. “It doesn’t matter, if it swims, flys, crawls, hops or slithers, we like to check it out. We hike, swim, canoe, fish, frog gig and investigate what is over the next hill, together.” “Lance, really is a neat kid,” said Nick Cox, a youth minister at the Rolla Church of God. “He is so inquisitive. Too, he is a very happy kid.” Lances enthusiasm for the outdoors is contagious. I’ve worked in the outdoors most of my adult life, often working with outdoor youth groups. Lance exudes enthusiasm about the outdoors. He is a fresh breath of air, exactly the type I’ve always hoped kids in my outdoor classes would turn out to be. It is a proven fact that exposure to the outdoors helps kids mentally, physically and spiritually. Millions of dollars are spent by state and federal agencies and private outdoor companies each to encourage kids to get into the outdoors. However, nothing influences a child’s enjoyment of the outdoors like a parent, family member or personal friend who will take the time to take them outdoors on a regular basis. Lance Ybarra is a rare find, a kid who is immersed in the outdoors and one who has developed incredible talents at any early age. Lance has joined me on the Outside Again Adventures TV - Online program and will soon be hosting his own segment, “Outdoor Kids,” on Outside Again Adventures Radio. I had the pleasure to take Lance catfishing recently. His skills proved phenomenal. He caught numerous catfish in the 6-to-10 pound range, landing the largest all by himself. He wrestled the fish for almost 1o minutes before expertly sliding the wriggly fish into a landing net like a pro. Lance and my granddaughter, Jaydin, are accompanying me for the youth turkey season. We will be camped near the Current River. They are excited beyond belief and the competition for bragging rights has started.Lance may have met his match. I’ll report on that after the hunt.

Alaska - Great Salmon and Halibut Fishing on Prince of Wales

A Great Alaskan Adventure Bill Cooper RHT 8/15 Our trio of float planes banked hard to the north into Thorne Bay. A panoramic view of the vast Tongass National Forest on Prince of Wales Island and the watery world of southeast Alaska popped into view like a gigantic mural. Walt Fulps owner of www.missouri.trouthunter.com worked feverishly over a period of several weeks completing the details to host 12 fly fishermen for a week of fishing, exploring and socializing in the vast reaches of the nation’s third largest island. After a short jaunt through the fishing village of Thorne Bay, our party reached the charming comforts of Thorne Bay Lodge. Numerous superbly decorated rooms greeted our tired adventurers. After settling in, three of us hopped on a boat with Dennis, the lodge owner, and headed out into the bay to check crab pots. Thirty minutes later we had enough Dungeness crabs for dinner. Fulps divided party members into groups and made assignments after dinner. Beginning flyfishermen headed to Thorne River with him the next morning for lessons. Others headed out early to Coffman Cove to hook up with J and J Charters for halibut, salmon and cod. Despite the spectacular river scenery anglers enjoyed, fishing proved slow. An unprecedented drought had occurred during the previous 10 weeks, an unusual happenstance for a temperate rain forest. The rains returned the day we landed. Our hopes ran high that the spawning runs would begin. In the meantime, our crew kept checking various rivers and streams, but settled for Dolly Varden and the occasional sockeye and coho salmon. The spectacular scenery andcombined bear and Sitka black tailed deer sightings more than made up for the temporary shortage of fish, however. The guys who fished with the J and J Charter boat experienced Alaskan fishing at it’s best. Everyone enjoyed the 30 minutes each morning to catch smelt on tiny jigs. Soon after baits dropped into 250 feet of water began to tantalize cod and halibut. Everyone on board shouted their support when 78-year-old Walt Fulps, Sr. watched his rod go down hard. The retired seaman was no stranger to strong fish. He leaned into the rod heavily while cranking his reel handle frantically. The powerful halibut seemed to gain the upper hand as it stripped line. Fulps groaned and held own, soon gaining line once again. Just when it looked like the heavy fish would succumb, it raced for the bottom a gain. Fulps took a seat, laid his rod across the gunwale and put more pressure on the big halibut. Minutes later everyone cheered when Cpt. John Sanchez snared the fish’s tail and flung it into the bottom of the boat. Exhausted, but proud, Fulps had the biggest halibut of the day flopping at his feet. I filmed the entire battle. On day two, I traveled to Log Jam Falls, a spectacular shut-ins, with part of the crew. For the first few minutes, we stood watching as salmon attempted to jump the falls. It seemed that few would make it as the spawning fish flung themselves into the air, often crashing into the rocks. Steve Waldron began casting and within minutes hooked a powerful Coho salmon. The fish immediately turned and went over a drop it had just cleared. Waldron danced the two step as he negotiated slippery rocks down the gulch and chased the fish downstream. We stood in awe expecting the fish to win the epic fight. Waldron prevailed. Our group compiled an unbelievable log of fish stories and tall tales. A new legend was born in the process. Dan Nelson became the epitome of the flyfishing angler and gained great fame in a matter of days. His name became a cabin hold word. I even heard that sharks in the area hold a Dan Nelson Week. River fishing picked up by the day as rains continued to fall. Groups reported seeing hundreds of fish making their way up stream.The general word was that the fish traveled fast as if they were late for spawning. Only the occasional fish fell to a lure. I spent the last day of the trip on the J and J Charters boat with Cpt. John Sanchez. Silver salmon were staging in the bays at the mouths of the rivers. We headed straight to one and began seeing pods of fish immediately. We cast medium size Mepps Flying C spinners with great success. I hooked my sixth Coho 22 minutes after I began fishing. Cpt. John headed to deeper water for halibut. An hour later all four of us had our hailbut on board, plus a few cod. An organized group with an experienced leader is a great way to enjoy Alaska fishing. I highly recommend the following: Walt Fulps. www.missouritrouthunter.com. Thorne Bay Lodge. www.thornebaylodge.com. J and J Charters. www.jandjcharters.com. Too, consider using Alaska Airlines. www.alaskaairlines.com. They offer a credit card which will reduce your original air fare and also award points towards future flights.

Hunting Ocellated Trurkeys in the Jungles of the Yucatan Bill Cooper As much as I love the Ozarks and turkey hunting, I still can not resist the urge to chase turkeys in other locations. The Yucatan Peninsula of Mexico is one of my favorite places to hunt pavos. Two weeks ago, Brandon Butler, the executive director of the Conservation Federation of Missouri, his wife, Melissa, and I flew into Cancun, Mexico, where a driver for Maya Amazing Adventures delivered us to Merida to meet Pancho McManus. Pancho and a student intern from Austria, led us on a three day tour of Maya ruins, cenotes, haciendas and villages. I will cover the complete story later. In the meantime ,check out: www.mayamazing.com. McManus dropped us off in the beautiful Spanish Colonial town of Campeche, where we were met by Snook Inn Hunting owner Roberto Sansores. Roberto is a jolly individual who partners with his father Jorge, who has been in the hunting business fro over 50 years. Roberto was eager to please and stopped at the fabulous Edzna ruins on the way to turkey camp. This huge complex of temples and other buildings are among the grandest in all of Mexico. From the ruins we continued through the countryside of farms and jungles to the village of Carlos Cano Cruz, where Sansores runs a hunting lodge. Everyone proved eager to get to to the hunt. Experienced guides Jorge and Meno drove us to remote soybean fields surrounded by vast stretches of jungle. The eager pair quickly carved out a hunting blind from the dense jungles with large machetes. Soon all of us were kicked back in comfortable camp chairs while we waiting for pavos to show up. The hunt was short. No pavos showed up. Eagerly, we all laughed and joked with the guides as we headed back to camp. A hot meal of the largest shrimp I had ever seen, cold drinks and getting acquainted with everyone in camp consumed our evening. White-winged doves cooed loudly, while local roosters announced the coming of the evening. Sleep would be sparse for all of us as we anticipated the morning hunt. I had planned to film Butler’s hunt, but too much shrimp the night before brought about Montezuma’s revenge, so I stayed in camp. Brandon, Melissa and their guides returned to camp around 9 a.m. Brandon’s broad smile echoed his success. His first ocellated turkey soon hung on the scales. The bird weighed in at 10 lbs. with spurs 1 5/8-inches in length, a very nice ocellated gobbler. The birds are small in comparison to our Easterns. Ocellated turkeys seldom go over 13 pounds. Completely recuperated, I headed to the jungles the next morning. At first light, Meno spotted turkeys still on the roost at one end of the field. Soon a half dozen birds flew down and began feeding in our direction. We watched intently as the small flock fed closer to our blind. The flock fed to witting 40 yards. Menos gave me the signal to shoot. I had been holding my gun up too long and missed. Everyone empathized with me for having missed. After a good lunch and a siesta we returned for the afternoon hunt. Ten minutes after we entered the brush blind, pavos began clucking and putting 15 yards behind us. Everyone froze. The birds wandered off and eventually entered the harvested soybean field 1000 yards to our right. A huge gobbler flashed its white wing patches and fed towards us. Minutes later another flock emerged from the jungle 150 yards to our left. Meno whispered, “senor Bill, bird close to left, shoot.” I slowly turned my head and watched a beautifully colored pavos feeding nearby. By the time I raised my gun, the bird had walked behind bushes. I slowly swung my gun to the right while the bird cleared the brushpile. It stood out less than fifteen yards away. The Remington 1187 roared and my third ocellated bird and 89th turkey of my turkey hunting career lay flopping on the ground. We continued photographing and filming turkeys and visiting ruins over the next few days. One of the highlights of our trip was being blessed by a Maya religious troupe. The ceremony removed ill from our bodies and replaced it with renewed energy. We became one with the universe in the Maya jungles of the Yucatan.

Top Water Action for Largemouth

Cool July Mornings Equals Hot Top Water Action RHT 7/15 Bill Cooper A friend had called the previous evening inviting me to the early morning rendezvous. “Bass are hitting like crazy,” he had said. The kitchen light of the old farm house shined dimly through the window pane as I pulled under the soft maple tree draping over the driveway. The faint light provided evidence that my friend had not yet stirred from the comforts of slumber. The clock on my dash read 6:00a.m., the exact time he had insisted I be there. Just as I flipped the headlights off, a ghostly figure materialized in the living room window. Jim met me on the massive sandstone steps of the front porch. “I didn’t get in bed until 2:30 this morning,” he moaned “Listening to a soon to be ex-girlfriend. Go on down to the lake. I will come down later.” Deep in thought and lost in the beauty of my surroundings, I had just finished readying my rods when I heardd a vehicle coming down the hill towards the lake. I knew who it was. It sounded as if he needed to fish worse than me, but I was not about to give up the chance to get in some fabulous topwater fishing on his lake. Remote and situated in a beautiful hollow, this particular lake is one of my favorites to fish. No crowds. No hassles. Just raw nature and solitude. And Jim created it. And he occasionally allows me to enjoy all the wonders of this magnificent piece of earth. “Can’t sleep, huh?’, I queried. “Not at all,” Jim sighed. “Man, let’s fish. The morning is cool and the topwater action has got to be hot,” I commented hoping to soothe my friend’s wounds. We hung by a big rock for a long time. Fishing is always good there anyway. Jim’s Rapala worked magic. Bass after bass clobbered the minnow imitator. Most were 11-to-13 inchers. Didn’t matter. Jim chattered, but became ecstatic with each bass he hooked. The healing had begun. I tossed a 5-inch Sammy, one of those high dollar Japanese lures. I didn’t catch as many bass as Jim, but I concluded that my fish were bigger. We meandered across the lake, paddling here, then there to cast to every likely looking spot. We caught lots of bass, and some huge bluegill. The bass we caught were getting bigger, but nothing near the 8-pounder a friend of Jim’s had caught the week before. A truck came rattling down the lake road. “Loggers,” Jim replied. “It is too muddy. They can’t cut today.” We headed up the dam side of the lake. I like it there. Willows drape down low to the water. Bass hang back up under the limbs. Lots of insects drop into the water from the overhanging canopies. I tossed my Sammy towards a small pocket between a willow branch touching the water and a clump of cattails. Two twitches later, the water exploded. I leaned back hard on the rod and felt that heavy pulsing sensation as the big bass shook its head side to side underwater. “Heavy fish,” I said as I grinned ear to ear in the morning cool. The dark green beauty of the fish flashed as it turned for cover. The rod overpowered the waning strength of the largemouth and I caught a glimpse of its broad side. Jim grasped the maw of the brute and hauled it aboard. After a few photos, he gently gave the fish a few revival swishes in the stained lake water and fondly bade the bass good-bye. We both hoped to meet that bass again on another cool, summer morning. We finished the dam and swung the canoe along a steep rocky bank that dropped from a hardwood covered ridge. “We catch some very nice bass from this stretch,” Jim chuckled. “Well, what do you call the one I just caught?” I quizzed. Another chuckle. Fishing friends have a way of gouging one another that only fishermen understand. A dozen or so casts up the bank and the water boiled around my Sammy lure. It appeared that the bass sucked the bait in rather than having exploded on it like the last one. When I set the hook, surprise overtook me. Power surged up the rod. That moment of realization that one has connected to a big fish is a feeling that all fishermen would like to experience more often. We replay the moment over and over in our minds and dreams. They don’t happen often enough. The bass looked to be a twin of the first 4-pounder. A couple of bullfrogs serenaded us as we continued up the bank. “Wooooohw”, Jim yelled. “Oooooh, it got off! Can you back paddle to get me back to that cedar tree?” I silently wondered what he would have done if I had said no. Fishing buddies don’t do that, however. His cast put the Rapala in the perfect spot. His light rod arched. He had obviously hooked into a dandy. I saw a flash of a very tall fish side. “That may be your 8-pounder, Jim.” “It’s a crappie!” Jim gasped. “Naw, not that big,” I objected. It was a crappie, and the biggest one I had seen in a very long time; 2 ½-pounds. “I have been catching a few of these,” Jim confided. “I am not taking any of them out yet. These girls will lay a lot of eggs. I hope to have a good population within the next couple of years.” Jim and I paddled on around the lake. He tossed his Rapala. I tossed my Sammy. We continued catching bass. Why change lures when the one you are using works so well? It was probably one of those rare cool mornings when the bass would have hit anything that we tossed at them, but we will never know. We pitched what we had confidence in. Besides, fish weren’t the issue. Friendship was the issue. Time spent with a pal, who needed to talk. Nature soothed our souls and refreshed our spirits. We both walked away better men. And we had hope for the future-to build wood duck nest boxes and then hang them on the lake. I silently hoped that we do that on a cool morning and experience the hot topwater bass fishing action one more time together.

Ray Eye Media Turkey Camp on the Big piney River - How It Works Bill Cooper 4/27/15 A pair of wood ducks zoomed past. Their high pitched squeals rang off the dogwood covered hillsides. Shortly an osprey followed their path and lit in an ancient sycamore tree overhanging the Big Piney River. A pair of honking Canada geese followed. Sunrise approached. The whippoorwills had ceased their raucous calls. Wild turkey toms had begun to shake the ridge tops with their lovesick gobbles. I reveled in the glory of the first day of Ray Eye’s Media Turkey Camp as I stood on the banks of the Big Piney River with a cup of coffee in my hand. Hunters in our camp had scrambled to gulp down a bit of coffee, biscuits and gravy before heading to the woods. A full breakfast of bacon, eggs, hash browns and hot coffee would await them at ten o’clock. I volunteered to stay behind and serve as camp cook, so the host of talented writers and other media people could concentrate on the work at hand of killing turkeys and formulating their stories into photos, videos and hard print. The list of attendees at the camp read like a of “Who’s Who” of outdoor media experts. They included: Linda Powell, of Mossberg Firearms, Melanie Swearingen, media and public relations with the National Wild Turkey Federation, Brandon Butler, the executive director of the Conservation Federation of Missouri, Mark and Ellie Strand, of Midwest Outdoors and podcast, Scott Davis and Steve Sylvestier, of Urban Hunting TV Show out of Memphis, Tennessee, Stuart Ruehling and Mike Ponder, of Indian Creek Choke Tubes, Josh Dahlke, of scoutlookweather.com, Matt Sproce, editor of North American Hunting Club Magazine,Tony Caggiano, of World Slam Adventures, Gary Lee, of the Ozark Radio Network, Chris Vogler and Ray Eye, of Eye on the Outdoors Radio, STL 1380 radio and podcast, and Spence Turner, a freelance writer, and myself, Bill Cooper, of Outside Again Adventures TV. As I enjoyed my cup of early morning coffee on the deck overhanging the Big Piney River, the first shot of the morning rang through the fog cloaking the Ozark Mountains. It came from the direction in which Josh Dalhke and cameraman Matt Sproce had gone. They showed up at breakfast with a fat jake in hand, the first bird to be bought into camp. Hungry hunters began to arrive for breakfast. Laughter and storytelling filled the cabin. Smells of woodsmoke from the fireplace, bacon frying and Wilderness Roast coffee added to the ambiance. Turkey camp had fallen into place perfectly. Superb stories for media outlets were being created in front of my eyes. I had a special vantage point by serving as camp cook. Everyone returned to the cabin after their hunt. I enjoyed being the first to hear the enthusiasm and relive the story of each one’s morning hunt. I will forever remember Spence Turner flying down the lane in his UTV, pumping his fist to indicate he had scored on a big Ozark mountain gobbler. His story won the best in camp award as well. Spence sports a prosthesis, having lost a leg to diabetes. He is legally allowed to hunt from his UTV. He covers it with camo material turning it into the perfect hunting blind. Stuart Ruehling, from Indian Creek Chokes, served as Spence’s guide. According to Stuart he saw something in the turkey woods he had never seen before. “When Spence knocked that big gobbler down with a load of White Lightning by Spectra Shot, I raced to the bird. When I turned around to show Spence the gobbler, there he stood with his pants around his ankles. His prosthetic leg had fallen off and he was trying to get his leg back on so he could come to the gobbler. That was a first!” Every morning the hills rang with the boisterous gobbles of lovesick turkeys. Hunters headed out into the predawn darkness with high hopes of outwitting one of these magnificent birds. Sixteen year old Ellie Strand tagged along with her uncle, Mark Strand, the editor of MidWest Outdoors Magazine. Ellie had already begun her career as an outdoor writer and the invitation to join the crew at turkey camp gave her young career a big shot in the arm. Each morning Mark and Ellie were the first to leave camp. Ray Eye had scouted a hot spot on U.S. Forest Service lands and the Strands left extra early every morning to get a jump on anyone who might hunt these public lands as well. I kept the aromas of hot meals and hotter coffee stirring into the smells of wood smoke and Ozark mountain air. Smoked rainbow trout and eggs for breakfast, whitetail deer fritters for lunch and smoked black bear roasts for dinner made for a menu that can be found in few other places. “Writers who eat well, perform well said Ray Eye, camp host. “I think most of our attendees had never seen a camp menu like Cooper provided. He served rainbow trout, black bear, whitetail deer, ham and beans, bbq pork steak, salads, soups, relish trays on the cabin porch tables decorated with wildflowers. And it all overlooked the Big piney River.” More gobblers died, stories were born and videos created. Every communicator agreed, however, that it was impossible to convey to the public the total experience of being in our turkey camp. The place, the people, the comradore, the laughing, joking and storytelling, all of which took place in a grand setting deep in the Ozark Mountains, made an incredible turkey camp experience, the best any of of us had ever enjoyed. Media hunting camps are impossible to organize without sponsor support. A special thanks is in order for: Cowtown USA of Cuba, Missouri, Ray Rays Smoke House BBQ Sauce, from Cabool, Missouri, Thomas Coffee, Wolf Premium Oils, Hook’s Custom Calls, Indian Creek Chokes and Mossberg Firearms.