The next couple of days consisted of lots of hiking and climbing - very much like Elk hunting. One evening I spotted a tom and hen working down a ridge edge. I put a stalk on the pair and got within 30 yards an hour before dark. When they put their heads up, the combination of a low gray sky and silhouettes only in that flat light, I couldn't be sure which was the tom and which was the hen. Certainly close enough to take a shot, but didn't want to shoot the wrong bird. I had to pass.
Another evening Keith located a tom gobbling along a big ridge, and tried to get in front of his direction of travel. Turned out there was a tom and a hen and they moved just above where he set up. Close, but not quite.
We did see over 30 birds those first days (some on property we didn't have permission on), so there were birds around. One tom sticks out in my mind. I spotted a group that was working along a tall ridge. One tom and five hens. I got fairly close and softly called to them. They looked in my direction, but the soft yelps I made seemed to have little effect. In only a few minutes they casually fed and walked over a half mile and out of sight. In the evening light, they were an impressive picture up on that ridge, but they seemed completely wild and unapproachable. We found them to be high strung, always on alert and our calls didn't make them throw caution to the wind and run over to us. Certainly fun, but this was going to be tough.
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