Searching for that Elusive Third Bird

After enjoying a great start to the spring turkey season with two gobblers on opening weekend, I staked out the fourth weekend of the season to bag that third and final bird. The 2012 spring season continues through May 1.

First things first, I needed to get my hunting buddy, Greg, his second bird to even us up with two apiece. Early Saturday morning, Greg and I met at his camp house to collaborate on a plan. Greg has the time both before and during to scout out specific birds while my schedule no longer affords me that opportunity. Knowing the location of feeding and strutting areas can pay huge dividends when you’re trying to maximize those daylight hours on the weekend. After all, turkey numbers vary greatly from property to property depending on habitat conditions. It takes a lot of work with Greg’s advanced scouting and collective thoughts utilizing my experience to lay out the morning’s strategy.

Saturday morning turned out to be one of those times when we couldn’t even buy a gobble. We tried a number of spots without hearing or seeing a single bird. When the woods fall silent as they had this morning, find solace in the turkeys hunter’s secret: lunch and a nap at the camp house or at the base of a tree brings clarity of mind and renewed purpose. This day would be no different. After a quick lunch and a snooze in front of the TV, we set out for one of Greg’s afternoon spots.

On a warm afternoon, I felt that we were being overly anxious and heading out too soon. From mid-morning to early afternoon, gobblers will be out looking for hens. However, 1:30 p.m. normally falls on the edge of that quiet period where tight beaked birds won’t gobble. But in turkey hunting you never know. Surprise is the norm.

We unloaded and approached the open field under the cover of some fresh cutover. Turkey tracks were everywhere, which was a good sign. We eased up on a tree covered fence line separating the cut over and the hay field. From the cover I began scanning the field and there was a big gobbler walking up the hill toward some thin pines. He blew up into a strut so I knew some hens were close by. Three hens strolled into view about 40 yards out. The hens fed slowly toward the gobbler as he strutted around. Signaled for Greg to slide over and confer. This was going to be a tough one to bag. Greg wanted to stay put on the fence row waiting on the birds to come back into the field to feed. We hunkered down to out-wait a big bad field turkey. With no water, it could be a long afternoon.

After an hour and a half, two hens appeared. I glanced through my binoculars in an attempt to locate a gobbler. The hens continued to feed in our direction with no appearance from the tom. As the hens drew within 50 yards, I spotted the gobbler watching the hens from the edge of the pines. I had a good feeling. We were set up in a good spot with ample cover. Now all we needed was luck that the big gobbler would pass by in range.

As the gobbler headed in our direction, Greg whispered to me that something was biting his nose. I told him to be still and deal with it. A turkey can see 7 times better than a human and hear 10 times better. When a gobbler is approaching, you can’t move and you can’t make any noise. These are basics when trying to out-smart the big bird with the little brain. The tom drew closer and closer all the while Greg’s nose was killing him. When the gobbler was about 53 yards out, I told Greg to take him but he didn’t feel good about the shot. Part of the responsibility of being a good sportsman is to avoid crippling a bird through a rushed or careless shot. After the birds walked by and around a bend in the hayfield, Greg pulled down his mask revealing a nose swollen up like an orange. The early spring may be causing turkeys to gobble but definite downside with ample mosquitos and insects. Further, our state capitol was rated as the fourth worst city in the nation for allergies in a report by The Weather Channel. The study also stated that due to the mild and wet winter, the allergens are appearing much earlier and more severe than normal.

Time to head for the house or take a stand. We were locked, loaded and in for the long haul. If he wasn’t coming to us, we decided to sneak into the gobbler's comfort zone. The decision was to utilize the terrain and set up closer to the gobbler. The thinned stand of pines where the gobbler had been coming and going seemed to be the ideal spot to get another chance with this long beard on his way back to roost before dark. We ventured over and made some ground blinds out of natural brush to break up our outline. And once again the wait was on. For four hours in 84-degree heat with the sun beaming down and no water we bided our time. We were committed to this bird.

It had taken some work and lots of time but we had ended up in a familiar place for the birds. As we were waiting them out, I heard the gobble of a new bird over my right shoulder. To confirm the gobble and locate the bird, I made a soft yelp, which was answered with a quick gobble. Turned to Greg, winked and said “I am going to get this one you just watch the field for the other one coming back.” In his position hard to my left, there was no way for Greg to turn around and shoot a turkey behind and to the right. I turned around on the tree and made one more soft yelp. He gobbled closer. I sat tight and waited for him to appear. I heard him drumming in a small draw 60 yards in front of me. Then he gobbled again. His head popped out of the draw looking hard for the hen he was pursuing. I sat patiently and let him do his thing.

The key to calling is knowing when to shut up. He gobbled, looked, and ducked behind a brush pile. Turning my head, I yelped again, sounding like I was in a depression in the hay field where the group of turkeys passed us by earlier. Gobbling again, he stepped out and came slowly but surely, looking and strutting. I could tell by his actions that this was an old turkey. While he continued to gobble and drew within 40 yards Greg spotted the other gobbler back in the field. He was still a long way out so I decided to take this bird. He was in range and putting on a show. I sat back and enjoyed until he got within 30 yards. I rested the bead on his head and squeezed the trigger, and CLICK!! I wasn’t locked and loaded after all. Startled by the unidentifiable noise he retreated the way he came while I sat stunned by a basic mistake that I had never made before.

I turned my focus to the other gobbler strutting in the hayfield with his two hens in tow. Slowly headed in our direction. As they got closer, I realized that with trajectory, they would fall behind a ridge to the right before getting in range for a shot. Turkey hunting is a series of instant tactical decisions. I told Greg to crawl back down the road, get in a low spot and move in position along the ridge for a clear shot at the long beard. He deliberated and headed that way a little to late. Greg spooked a hen that had already topped the ridge. Unfortunately those tactical decisions are invariably irreversible. Alarmed by the flushed hen, the big gobbler headed straight for me – a chance for redemption with a loaded gun. The wary tom approached my set up looking hard for the source of what spooked his hen. I remained still, calm and patient. He drifted across the open pasture 35 yards from where I lay in wait. Still reeling from my earlier mishap, I took the shot without taking my time or focusing. BOOM! And off he went. This was the first time that I have ever missed a turkey. Two first mistakes in one day.

Though the day was far from what Greg and I planned, chasing turkeys all day still made it worthwhile. Time to head to the house, refuel, rest and relax. I found consolation in the Sunday that lay ahead.