Nestled on the edge of a Douglas fir forest, I was confident the intersection where I was positioned screamed success. A logged unit surrounded by 30-year-old timber stretched 400 yards below me. To my right, an old logging road, abandoned for decades, bisected the crest of the ridge where I sat. To my left, a game trail emerged from a timbered ravine thick with brush.
My electronic call and decoy were set up 50 yards in front of me, visible from all angles. However, before hitting the button, I gave a few puffs on my open-reed mouth call. A subtle eeeeeeee-eeeeeeeee slipped out of the call. A minute later I repeated the crippled-bird series, a bit louder and longer this time.
As I reached for the electronic remote, movement to the left suddenly caught my eye. I paused, and so did the coyote that had materialized on the game trail. Soon, another coyote showed behind the first, followed by a third. They
