Calling Coyotes and Bobcats in Iowa

The trail of coyote tracks were as plain as dominoes in the hard packed snow weaving from one point of interest to the next as we followed them to our hunting location. It was clear that a pair of coyotes had hounded their way down this two-track a day or so earlier. Every footfall of ours beside theirs was a loud crunch followed by a foot sinking in a few inches. The crusted snow would hold you for an instant until you fell through with each step making for an agonizing ¾ -mile walk. Finally, we made it to our destination, a little bowl of a food plot semi-surrounded by cedars, hardwoods and grass. The perfect predator ambush spot and we were hoping the hard walk in would pay off.

My calling partner, Mark Johnston, set up his caller to overlook the plot while I found a comfortable place to watch his back door. Just as I was about to place my hunting chair, a different track caught my eye, that of a bobcat. Anticipation was high as the first sounds from Mark’s Foxpro cut through the air on the first set of the day.

Ten or fifteen minutes later, as I sat enjoying the beautiful scenery around me, the “BOOM” of Mark’s 22.250 reverberated like thunder over the hills! Mark had fired at one of the pair of coyotes that had bounded over the hill headed to his caller. Once over the hill, they hesitantly stalled out and Mark was able to get the gun moved on one of them for a shot. Even though the shot hit home, the coyote spun and ran into the tree line. We tracked blood until it ran out and then we pursued in the direction it was headed. The last blood was found where the coyote had leaped down a steep embankment and skidded.

From there it continued north in the bottom of a ravine under and over downfall trees. With the lack of blood it was hard to know if we’d ever find him and his path took him through some really rough terrain. Unfortunately we gave up the trail and took the long walk back to the truck empty handed. It’s rare that a coyote escapes Mark. He’s as cool as the other side of the pillow when a predator makes an entrance but this coyote wasn’t going to be found.

After a leg-cramping walk back to the truck we loaded up and headed for the next spot a couple miles down the road. As good as the spot looked, it turned out to be a dry run and it was time to head to our honey hole. The third spot of the day had been a proven producer over the years. As a matter of fact, I couldn’t rightly remember the last time we had failed to call a critter there? The property has proven to us over the years that even though a place can hold lots of predators you might not see them unless you’re setting up correctly or in the right place that they feel comfortable to come.

I had tried calling the property from several locations with hit and miss luck until I began calling from one spot high on the hill above the rugged, cedar-choked timber to the south. Once we began calling it from there, it produced 7 or 8 times in a row. There’s just something about that spot that they like but as great as it was, it also has some drawbacks. Critters responding to the call can get on you quick and close. You’re never really sure whether to bring the shotgun, the rifle or both?

It was Mark’s turn to call again and he sat the caller on the crown of the hill hoping to force a critter out of the tree line to expose itself in order to see the caller. Twenty minutes into the session as I was once again covering Mark’s backside, I heard that loud bang that you never really get used to hearing when it’s a complete surprise. Mark stood up after the shot and I walked down to see what had happened. Once again Mark had more bad luck.

A small bobcat had snuck to the edge of the tree line and stopped under a large cedar tree. By the time Mark noticed it, he thought the cat might have picked him out sitting in the tall grass. He described how the cat would look at the call and then back at him. At only 30 yards or so, Mark didn’t dare move the gun with the cat watching so intently.

Being the veteran predator caller that he is, he instead waited for the cat to make the first move. As the cat finally turned to leave, Mark smoothly moved his gun and bipod and as he did the cat looked back noticing the movement and began to move quicker just as Mark got a sight picture and it was a clean miss. Mark had a lot of excitement so far that morning but had yet to put fur in the back of the truck.

Moving another couple miles west, we tried a cattle pasture where we’ve had luck in the past. We both sat below a pond dam, Mark on one end while I sat on the other and I placed the caller 50 yards south of us. The location of the caller would hopefully draw a predator across a cattle-crossing where either of us would be able to shoot across an interlocking field of fire. I started with some soft blue jay distress in case anything was close by in the thick groves of eastern red cedars to the south. After nothing showed, I ramped up the Foxpro with some louder rabbit distress.

Scanning the area, slowly moving my head from left to right, as I returned my field of vision to the southwest, there stood a reddish colored canine staring in at me from the pasture side of a row of cedars. I had a small clearing to shoot but needed to move my gun.

As soon as he began to move, I swung the gun on its bipod into position. I voice howled the coyote to a broadside stop just as he got under the cedars at near 130 yards. A look through the scope confirmed a coyote and as the trigger broke, the coyote dropped straight to the ground. A few minutes later as we were examining the beautiful auburn pelt of this coyote, we noticed a second set of fresh tracks 15 feet away that paralleled the tracks of the coyote I had shot. There had been a lead coyote that had already passed through the clearing before I had a chance to see it but luckily, I saw the second coyote that came through. Finally some luck on this hunt!

Our fifth spot of the day led us down into a creek crossing where three steep hills surrounded us. With a large beautiful pine grove to the west, a pasture to the south, a hardwood timber to the east and a mixture of cedar groves and pasture to the north the spot had everything it needed to hold a vast array of predators. On the walk in we spotted a coyote that was as surprised to see us as we were to see him to our east in the hardwoods. Seeing him was one thing, shooting him was another. We could clearly identify the coyote with the snow as a background but as he loped away from us at more than 200 yards, there were just too many large trees to shoot through. In any event we knew coyotes were here.

I carried the shotgun on this stand to cover the creek crossing as Mark curled around the hill to cover the field facing east with his rifle. It wasn’t long after Mark began a calling sequence and a coyote materialized out of the trees from the north headed straight for us. I readied the shotgun on my knee as the coyote trotted through the pasture on the other side of the wooded draw between him and I. As the coyote entered the creek ditch, I felt that all I had to do was to wait for him to cross the creek and come up out of the ditch to me before giving him the surprise of his life.

There I sat motionless, cheek welded to my scattergun feeling my heartbeat faster and faster in anticipation of just where this coyote was going to pop out of the trees. I waited and I waited and I waited, but no coyote?

Mark, wouldn’t know that a coyote was near so I lip squeaked several times trying to get the coyote to show himself. The coyote had evidently traveled up the creek and headed west away from us. Our scent had been good and although it was possible that this was the same coyote we had witnessed on our walk in, we’ll never know for sure?

The last stand of the day was a mile south of the previous one down in the river bottom. Our sound would carry over a beautiful area with a high population of bobcat and coyote. We sat below the last terrace above the bottom where we had 75-yards to the river and the woods. Mark faced northwest and I faced southeast so we could cover both sides of the river bottom. Mark paced off 50 steps and placed the caller along a thin line of foxtail out in front of us but between us both halfway to the creek. It would be the last stand of the day before darkness set in and our plan was to use rabbit distress and other distress sounds for the first part of the stand in case a bobcat was near and then towards dark, begin some coyote vocalizations.

Mark had ran through a few series of distress and as I sat there in wait, I couldn’t help but think that there was no way this beautiful spot wouldn’t produce a predator for us. To see the caller I had to crank my head over my right shoulder and look out of the corner of eye. Mark had to do the same only he had to look over his left shoulder. As I was panning my head I could see the caller in my peripheral vision but all of a sudden, this time there was second dark object that I could tell was near the caller.

As I cranked my head just a bit farther to see what it was, I made out the vision of a large bobcat less than 15 feet from the caller and putting a slow, crouching stalk on! I slowly turned a bit further to see if Mark was on him with the gun and I could tell that he wasn’t. The mistake that we had made and were relearning in live action was that neither of us were directly pointing a gun at the caller to begin with. I could tell however, that Mark could probably swing his gun on target if the cat made one mistake. In another instant the cat made that mistake.

I noticed the cat stop and turn his head away from us and back towards the timber. When he did I could see Mark move his gun in my peripheral and knew that now it was only a matter of time! As the cat focused back in on the caller that he thought was his prey I readied myself to move, clicking off the safety should anything go wrong.

I watched as Mark unleashed the 22.250’s fury on the cat literally blowing it over on impact! But even after absorbing the tremendous blow, the cat rebounded like a miracle. I spun in my chair and resettled the gun and bipod and as the cat stumbled, staggered and flailed his way back to the safety of the trees I waited for Mark to get off another shot. Right before the cat made it to cover I decided I better not let it get there and blasted him on the run. The shot dropped the cat on impact. As it turned out Mark’s shot was right on the money. A killing shot for sure.

As we walked to the cat, the blood spray left in the cat’s wake across the snow was enormous. The cat was running dead somehow and wouldn’t have made it much further but it was a testament to the cat’s toughness how he took the hit and then managed to actually get up and run. My shot hit the back hip and was unnecessary but at the time we didn’t know positively.

It was the last day of Iowa’s 2020 bobcat season and Mark had his biggest ever cat, a 28-pound tom with pretty belly spots and a big, thick neck. Who knew after the first bobcat of the day had escaped that we’d get another chance at an even better cat. On the day we called in 5 coyotes and 2 bobcats in 6 stands. Unfortunately, only one of us could see the coyotes each time they came in or we might have had more fur going home with us at the end of the day. In the right kind of habitat, a predator hunt in Southern Iowa holds a mixed bag paradise for both bobcat and coyote! You never know what might just answer your call.

by Troy Hoepker

Home – Iowa Sportsman

October 2020

If interested here is another coyote hunting article – Tips for January Coyote Calling – The Iowa Sportsman

Check out this article on Hunting Bobcats – Bobcat Hunting Tips and Tricks – The Iowa Sportsman