Fifty-nine wild turkeys were released near Tampa, Florida and Salt Lake City, Utah at two symbolic and educational Thanksgiving wild turkey releases the middle of November.

  The National Wild Turkey Federation, the Florida Fish and Wildlife Conservation Commission and Two Rivers Ranch organized the Tampa, Florida event, while the Salt Lake City event was hosted by The Utah Division of Wildlife Resources, Kennecott Utah Copper Corporation, Kennecott Land Corporation and the NWTF.

  The two releases celebrated the success of the nation's wild turkey restoration efforts. In the 1930s, wild turkey numbers were at an all-time low of 30,000 throughout North America. Thanks to the restoration efforts of state wildlife agencies, the wild turkey population was on the rebound when the NWTF was founded in 1973.

  Initial restoration efforts involved the release of pen-raised wild turkeys, but quickly proved fruitless, however, because pen-raised birds did not have necessary skills to survive in the wild. Thanks to the development of the cannon net, and later the rocket net, wildlife professionals began catching wild birds and moving them into suitable areas to start new populations.

  Because of the tireless efforts of state and provincial agencies, the NWTF and thousands of volunteers have helped transfer more than 188,000 wild turkeys to restore turkey populations across the country.

  "The NWTF was founded in 1973, and at that time, there were only an estimated 1.3 million wild turkeys in the country," said NWTF CEO, Rob Keck. "Thanks to the work of our nation's sportsmen, there are now more than 7 million wild turkeys."

  School groups and the general public attended and learned about the comeback of the wild turkey. Each event demonstrated efforts made by hunters and state wildlife professionals on behalf of wild turkey restoration and wildlife conservation. Along with students and volunteers, 20 media outlets - including the CBS Evening News - were on hand to tell the remarkable comeback story.

  "We hope the releases taught the children more about the wild turkey and the importance of conserving our wildlife resources, and passing along our hunting traditions," said Dr. James Earl Kennamer, NWTF senior vice president for conservation programs.

  The Tampa area release was held at Two Rivers Ranch in Thonotosassa, Florida. Kennecott Utah Copper in Magna, Utah was the event site for the Salt Lake City release.

  For more information about the wild turkey release or the NWTF, contact Brian Dowler or Amy Forrest at (803) 637-3106.

  For more information about the NWTF, call (800) THE-NWTF or visit their web site at www.nwtf.com.

  With this being my third deer hunting trip to southeast Oklahoma in as many years you would think that writing this chapter would be easy to do. It has been a month now and for some reason I couldn’t motivate myself to get started writing. I’m not sure why, but I think it’s because my mind is on more deer hunting. So with my deadline looming I figured I had better send the editor something. So if you, the reader want to read on, I’ll relate the tale the best that I can in my preoccupied mental state. So sit back and enjoy this third installment in my saga of deer hunting Oklahoma and the newest chapter in my series of unfortunate hunts.

  For starters, I decided this year to forego the bow hunting and focus entirely on the muzzleloader season. Not only did this decision lighten the load I would be carrying on the nine hour drive getting there, it also allowed me to focus strictly on one set of tactics and that being the ability to reach out and touch a deer over twenty yards. And most importantly, it made my wife happy by not spending so much of her hard earned money on buying bow tags.

  As he did last year, one of my partners in crime my brother-in-law Kenny came along. I wasn’t sure if he was going to be able to go or not since he had been having trouble walking for some reason. He said it was because of a pinched nerve in his leg but I think it was because of bunions or gout myself. Anyway, his ingrown toenail has nothing to do with this story so we’ll move along.

  Our plan was to arrive on Thursday giving us Friday to set stands and check our scopes before the season opener on Saturday.

  We arrived at our friend David Falconer’s ranch near McCurtain in the early afternoon as planned and set about setting up camp. The evening was full of laughs and lies with the fellows, Robert, Dan, David and Kenny. Brentt arrived the next day.

  The next day we stayed busy doing just what we had planned to do. We scouted a couple of likely spots and set up our stands and blinds. Once that was done, it was off to the rock pile to check our scopes. After a few minor adjustments we were set for the next morning.

  Opening morning I hunted from a ground blind set up near a feeder on top of what everyone calls Shiloh Mountain. I saw a deer early way out from and in the early light couldn’t tell if it was buck or doe. Sometime around 7:30 or was it 8:00, remember my mental state while writing this, I heard what sounded like a sick duck call coming from behind me. My first thought was them guys are screwing with me. I peaked out the side window and a little four point buck came into view from my left side.

  He preceded coming around me about seventy yards out grunting as he went. I knew he wasn’t a shooter but decided to have some fun with him nonetheless. I picked up my Primos Can call and proceeded to try and call him in. He must have heard it as he turned and came in closer to investigate. (It’s my lie and I’ll tell it any way I want)

  The little sucker came in right past a scrape I had doctored up the previous day without so much as turning his head toward it. "There’s ten bucks shot to hell" was my thought. Actually he was more interested in the corn lying on the ground under the feeder. He got his belly full as he nosed around and ate for over half an hour. No does showed up to join in the feast.

  Rats! I was hoping to fill my doe tag early to take the pressure off and then concentrate my efforts on a buck. Apparently they didn’t get the memo.

  That evening I hunted from a stand on a hillside across a creek, named Cedar Creek from another feeder. It was from this location last year I had shot what I thought was a doe that turned out to be a button buck. It’s a nice ambush spot as your stand is hidden in the shadows on the hillside. I was looking to pop a nice doe but if a shooter buck showed himself then that was even better.

  Around 4:00 a doe showed up. I watched it for ten minutes before it came closer, why make a long shot if you don’t have to, and gave me a great thirty yard broadside shot. Hot dog! Placing the crosshairs of my scope on the sweet spot I pulled the trigger.

  Snap! "What the?...." Pow! "Oh @#$%!!!"

  The gun misfired. At the sound of the primer going off the deer jumped straight up. And in that split second while it was in the air, the bullet, which lagged behind, shot her in the leg breaking it. But I didn’t know that at the time. Needless to say she hauled ass into the brush. I mentally marked the spot.

  I was pretty sure I hadn’t hit her but needed to know for sure as there was a lot of hunting time left. After ten minutes I got down, crossed the creek and went to where she had been standing. Finding no blood, I slowly starting walking to the spot where she had went into the brush. I didn’t make five yards when I heard her bust out the other side. By the sound she was making I could tell that her leg was broke and there was no way I would catch up to her through the thick brush.

  The only thing to do was climb back in the stand, try again and hope the gun fired right next time.

  Arriving back at camp, I told my story hoping David wasn’t going to be too upset. I did have a witness of sorts. Kenny had heard my misfire from where he was hunting and confirmed my woes.

  The next morning I was back on the mountain in the ground blind. It didn’t take long for me to try and redeem myself as two does came straight at me. They nosed around in front of me eating corn for a few minutes and then one of them came around a small tree to my left and stopped eleven yards from me slightly turned toward me. "Easy shot" I said as the crosshairs rested on her front shoulder. This time the gun didn’t misfire.

  I was really surprised to see her not laying in a heap on the ground where she stood. It really surprised me to not see her pile up in heap as she ran away. I quickly reloaded and then it hit me. I just sat there stunned as I tried to figure out what had gone wrong. I waited a few minutes and then ventured out just to see if I could find a blood trail.

  I found no blood where she had stood or in the direction she had ran. Knowing I had to have hit her, I didn’t go to far fearing I would spook her and then the game would have been on. Instead I got back into the blind to wait and give her time to bleed out. It was still early and what else did I have to do except get my buck.

  After more than an hour and a half, I started out to find her. Following the direction she had gone I searched and searched. I looked for better than an hour crisscrossing the woods trying to pick up a blood trail. It was to no avail. I figured I needed more help so off to camp I went.

  Arriving back on the scene with David and Brentt, I went through the whole story and showed them where I had been looking. After we searched for the longest time and were about to give up David stumbled upon a small amount of blood. It wasn’t much and the trail was only five to eight yards long. After more fruitless searching, we came up empty. We all agreed that the bullet hadn’t punched through the shoulder. David’s advice, hit them a little further back. I explained to him that since she was quartering to me slightly, I aimed a little forward so the bullet would punch through the shoulder, lungs and possible heart before exiting out the opposite side toward the end of the ribcage. He agreed with that logical but pointed out that it hadn’t worked this time. Duh!

  That evening I was back in my stand on Cripple Creek. By this time I had renamed Cedar Creek. It wasn’t long before a doe showed up and presented me with a shot exactly like the one I had had the previous afternoon. This time I was sure I had hit her good. I watched the brush moving and shaking as she ran through it and then saw a small tree shake violently like she had side swiped it. Making mental notes and lining up two trees in the background as a guide I sat and waited for twenty minutes.

  Crossing the creek I quickly went to where she had been standing and found a lot of blood and some meat on the ground. Yes! I knew she was hit hard and started following the trail. After following the trail for only a couple of yards through the brush and stickers I backtracked out and went down the field to line up my marker trees. My plan was to go straight in here and intersect the blood trail. As luck would have it and I needed some at this point, there was a deer trail coming out of the brush at this exact spot.

  I set off on the trail and hadn’t gone ten yards when I came to the tree she had hit so violently and there was the blood trail as I had expected and not ten feet from where I was standing, lay the deer. Alright!!

  After dragging her out into the open, I left her there, crossed the creek and climbed back up the tree to hopefully get a buck with the daylight left.

  I had two options on getting the doe back to camp. One, drag her across the creek and then up a hill to my four-wheeler which was no easy task or, two, take the two mile ride from camp down and around to Cripple Creek. I chose the ride.

  I had to go by camp on the way to get the doe so I sat there trying to think up a good a story so I could screw with the guys at camp. They had been giving it to me all afternoon and now it was time for a little revenge. I decided to tell them I had shot a deer and now needed help tracking her down. My hope was to make Robert take the ride with me. Earlier in the day he said that I should become a pro-wrestler and he had the perfect name for me, "The Crippler".

  I arrived back at camp early and started laying the foundation of my story with Dan. The plan started to work when he suggested that Robert should go with me since he was a good tracker. As the guys trickled in I kept up the charade. Of course David didn’t look real happy as I told my tale. His look was, here we go again.

  The plan worked to perfection as fifteen minutes later Robert and I started off in the dark to "track" my deer.

  Once at Cripple Creek I stopped suddenly next to the deer. Robert pulled up next to me and said, "Here’s your deer!"

  "It must have crawled out here and died!" I said. "What luck! That was easy."

  Just by luck when I had dragged her out, I left her looking like she had staggered out of the brush and collapsed.

  He got off his four-wheeler and started to look the deer over. At that point I couldn’t keep up the charade any longer and told him I had dragged her out there.

  "You just wanted to get me back by making me ride all the way around here, didn’t you?"

  "That and I needed someone to help me load her on the four-wheeler."

  We pulled into camp as everyone came over to have a look. They wanted to know how hard it was to track her down. Robert told him I had her out ready to pick up and the laughs started.

  The next morning the wind was blowing something fierce and no one saw any deer. It was blowing so hard it made Dan and Robert pack up and head for home. What a couple of wimps. Just kidding guys. (not really) That didn’t bother us as the rest of us had some hog killing to do.

  One of David’s friends had trapped three wild hogs, all boars about 125 – 130 pounds, in a trap and asked if we wanted them. We sure did. The only catch, we had to kill and dress them ourselves. No problem for a bunch of old butchering hands like us.

  Our respect for the toughness of wild hogs increased as it took three head shots from David’s 9mm to bring one of them down. This one must have been destined to be king or something because he would stare you down and/or bump the cage when you approached while the others cowered in the corner.

  As a final jab at my misfortunes, David asked me if I wanted to shoot one of them in the leg before putting the killing shot on him. I replied that I only shoot deer in the legs and that it would probably only make the mean one meaner. (The first liar ain’t got a chance with this bunch.)

  The next day we were all packed up and ready to go by noon. It was a pretty good weekend of hunting. Dan, Brentt and I had all taken does with Brentt’s weighing around 115 pounds field dressed. Kenny and I each took a hog while David and Brentt split the other one. No empty coolers this trip execpt Robert's.

  Plans are already being made for next year. Kenny says he’s getting a four-wheeler though we’ve heard that the past few years. Hopefully someone will take a buck or two. Hope I’m one of those some ones. Even though I did take a deer it wasn’t without my usual difficulties and streak of bad luck. After all, if everything went smoothly and I took ten point bucks every trip, I wouldn’t know what to change the title of this series to. But for now it will remain My Series of Unfortunate Hunts. Until the next time. Jim Bob

  It's not everyday that biologists can create a brand new trout stream, but fisheries personnel with the Oklahoma Department of Wildlife Conservation recently did just that.

  "When we showed people where we were thinking about building this new creek, I think people thought we were a little crazy," said James Vincent, southeast region fisheries biologist for the Wildlife Department. "The area looked like it would make much better squirrel habitat than trout habitat."

  In Beaver's Bend State Park along the Lower Mountain Fork River, fisheries personnel transformed an ancient stream channel into a brand new ¼-mile trout stream, dubbed Lost Creek. While the area was still dry, fisheries personnel used bulldozers and backhoes to clear the channel to create a series of riffles, runs and pools that would become first-class trout habitat when water was directed into the new stream.

  "We used a huge, 20-ton water control structure to divert a small amount of water into Lost Creek. The channel winds through woods and eventually dumps back into the Lower Mountain Fork River," Vincent said. "Not only is this going to become a great trout fishing area, it is also just a beautiful place to take a walk."

  Streams biologists did not stop there. Just down stream from the start of Lost Creek, fisheries personnel turned their focus on a 1/2- mile stretch of the Lower Mountain Fork River, known as the Evening Hole.

  "The fishing wasn't as good as it could have been in this particular area of the river," Vincent said. "The Evening Hole had three problems - the water was too warm; it moved too slowly; and there was a good amount of silt in the area. None of these conditions are good for trout or for trout anglers."

  Vincent and his colleagues came up with a plan to make the area more desirable for trout.

  "After we received all the necessary work permits, we dumped about 600 loads of gravel along the banks of the river to narrow the channel. This caused the water to move faster through the area which will keep the water temperature from rising too quickly and help to move the dirt and muck on downstream," Vincent said. "We also recycled every big rock and log we could find and placed them in and around the Evening Hole and created a good number of places for trout to hide and to find food."

  The Wildlife Conservation Commission recently voted to establish special trout fishing regulations on the Evening Hole and Lost Creek areas. Upon gubernatorial approval, anglers will be required to use only artificial flies and lures with barb-less hooks and may harvest only one rainbow trout and one brown trout 20-inches or longer per day. When the proposed regulations were opened to public input recently, the Department received overwhelming support of the new regulations.

  "This is certainly one of the most ambitious streams restoration projects that has ever been undertaken in the state. We can't wait for people to come down and see it for themselves," Vincent said. "This is a great example of what we can accomplish when we work together. We certainly couldn't have done this without the strong partnership and support from a wide range of public and private organizations like the Lower Mountain Fork River Foundation, the 89er Chapter of the Trout Unlimited, the Oklahoma Chapter of Trout Unlimited, Oklahoma State Parks and Resorts and the Tulsa District of the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers, to name a few."

  For more information about trout fishing in Oklahoma or these two restoration projects log on to their web site at www.wildlifedepartment.com.