This is a guest blog entry by Mike Healy from his home in Idaho.
My son, Carl, is thirteen and we enjoy coyote calling as often as we are able to make time to get into the field.
Carl didn’t have school on Friday so I took the day off and we went coyote calling. The window of opportunity was excellent as it was a weekday and Idaho’s rifle season for deer hadn’t opened yet.
In the early afternoon we were calling on a small parcel of state land surrounded by private property and had a very energizing experience with several nearby coyotes.
Our truck was well concealed behind a small hill with a headwind in our favor. Seated on a hillside with adequate cover and a good view, I placed my Wildlife Technologies electronic caller downhill about 30 paces in front of us. Instead of hiding the caller in a bush, I placed it in the bottom of a waist-deep sinkhole.
I started the stand with two loud female coyote howls and then paused to listen for a response. Within 30 seconds a couple of coyotes responded by howling back at us. They were to our left and just beyond a low hill. I waited another 30 seconds and played a few red tail hawk screams. The coyotes to our left responded again. I then paused for a few seconds of silence to let everything soak in and another coyote started howling directly in front of us.
Scanning the land directly in front of us, I couldn’t see the coyote that was howling. Carl was seated to my right and I didn’t want to miss any movement on our left flank made by the coyotes that were howling over there. I shifted my focus to the left and let Carl sort out what was likely unfolding in front of us.
Manipulating the remote control below the level of the sage brush to avoid detection, I lowered the volume and played a squeaky mouse vole distress sound. The coyotes to the left continued to howl and were obviously upset by the intrusion that my original howl represented. After a minute of the mouse vole, I silenced the caller. The coyotes to our left were still howling sporadically.
Struggling to pick out any movement at all, I finally spotted a coyote running from center stage to our left at 500 yards out. Carl then clicked his safety off. I figured there was something else going on that I couldn’t see so I went back to watching our left flank.
As we sat motionless with Carl’s safety off, I ran through the following sound sequence two or three times:
- red tail hawk screams
- pause
- crows mobbing a meat pile
- pause
- coyote pup distress
- pause
Amazingly, the coyotes to our left continued to howl during the above sequence.
I then reverted to the mouse vole distress sound on low volume to wait it out and see what was going to happen. We were in the range of 10 to 12 minutes into the stand when suddenly… BANG! I shifted my eyes back to the center just in time to see a coyote fall to the ground. Carl had been monitoring its approach and fired when it stopped at 121 yards from where we were sitting. He first spotted the coyote at 450 yards and observed its deliberately slow advance for many minutes before taking the shot.
Idaho Coyote, October 2011
Having the caller in the sink hole probably helped us out on this stand. Coyotes have that amazing ability to pinpoint the precise location on the surface of the earth where a sound is coming from. In this case, I suspect the coyote felt compelled to get close enough to see into the bottom of the sink hole to conclusively determine the source of the sound.
Regards and thanks for reading,
Mike Healy
