I hate that its over already with so much of May still here, but having a young kid, a pregnant wife, and getting started building a house (great timing, I know), I'm needed in other places right now worse than the turkeys need me to give them something to laugh at. This was one of the best seasons I have ever had, with plenty of brand new ground yelped over, sunrises seen, and a few gobblers down the barrel along the way.
I started the season out almost as early as I ever had in a southeastern state. I made it down the afternoon before opening day with plans to hunt with a couple buddies on one of their family's pieces of land. Clark was the one with the ground, and Peyton was the other tag-a-long like me. We went out opening morning to witness a beautiful morning along with lots of silence. We never ran into anything so we all split up to play the waiting game and cover more ground. While Peyton was moving on up to his spot, he spotted a gobbler walking up a hill away from him. He wasn't sure if the turkey ever saw him but he never would answer any calls.
After the turkey was gone, he and I moved up to check out the spot and found some fresh scratching. We agreed that it would be a good spot to sit this afternoon since the turkeys weren't giving us much information to work with. We all backed out to grab lunch and Peyton had to go back home to study or take a test or mow his yard or something (it didn't have to do with turkeys is all that I can say for sure).
Clark and I got back in the woods and split up. I went to where we found the fresh sign and Clark set up where a bunch of turkey tracks and strut marks had wiped our boot prints out of the road from first thing that morning. This isn't my favorite way to hunt, but when the situation calls for it I know that it can be the most effective way to kill a gobbler.
We had been sitting there with no action, calling off and on for a few hours, when Clark's uncle got a text from his trail camera with two lone gobblers on it. I was about 1/4 mile from his camera so I knew that they could possibly be close to me. I let out one last series of calls, not wanting to do too much since the day had been quiet so far. Not long after getting settled back in, I heard footsteps right over the ridge from me! I couldn't tell exactly where they were because they seemed to keep moving spots a little bit, so I just made my best guess and pointed that direction. As soon as I looked down the barrel, a gobbler popped up 35 yards from me to my left. There was nothing between us but air so I let him get behind a tree, once he did I started to move but looked down my barrel and another gobbler walked right down my sight at 24 steps. I pulled the trigger and he never flinched. This was the first silent turkey I can remember killing and also my first afternoon turkey, killing him at 5:17.
Clark and I started out the next day on the same place but only heard one gobble WAY off. Clark had to head back home but I had a couple more days so I went to a National Forest an hour or two away. I arrived about 12 and walked into a spot that I had marked. I struck a hen but nothing ever gobbled with her. I ended up moving around her and eventually got in sight. There were three hens but no gobblers. I backed out and went to check another area but all the sign and turkeys I had just found called me back. I walked back in down a different ridge and walked up on another hen. I didn't think I spooked her because she just kept walking the way she was headed. I decided to go a little further and just sit until dark. I had been sitting there awhile, and thought I heard walking in front of me. I got my gun up and a turkey started putting behind me, I'm pretty sure it was another hen but never saw it to make sure.
I started out the next morning close to where I saw the three hens but never heard anything at daylight. I knew there was turkeys in the area so I decided to sit tight, and a gobbler fired up about 7:45. He was gobbling good so I was able to work into about 150-175 yards even in the open creek bottom. I called and he answered but never got any closer. I kept easing up until I got to about 100 and he started angling to my right. I figured there was a creek finger between us that he didn't want to cross so I pulled a boneheaded move and tried to get a little closer. It was much too open to try this and he didn't gobble again after my last move. I knew that he saw me but figured he didn't see enough to really scare him too bad so I hung around in the area for awhile. I couldn't get the thought of there being another turkey gobbling somewhere else out of my head so I started climbing a ridge to do some checking. I stopped to answer a text or something and looked to my left and a gobbler was walking across my ridge! I let him get behind a tree and got my gun halfway off my shoulder (I've learned not to do it all at once from a past experience), then when he went behind another I got it all the way off and squatted down. When he came out I yelped to get him to come closer but quickly realized he was close enough. I pulled the trigger and ran 43 steps to claim my prize. I know some people are going to be looking for a puke bucket after reading of a turkey killed in such a way, but I'm pretty sure it was Tom Kelly who said, "You earn turkeys you don't kill and you kill turkeys you don't earn." I know where he belongs on the list but he means just as much to me as any other.
After this trip, my grandpa and I headed to a state where I had some very good luck in the past couple years. I had been reading all over about how much pressure the place had seen, and everyone must have found the spots I usually hunt because we heard two turkeys gobble across the line on private over three days. This is the main reason I'm leaving states out of my wrap-up. I know all the "celebrity hunters" get a black eye over saying states, I won't get into whether I think its deserved or not, but I think if everyone went about it this way then we could still share our stories without causing as much of a pressure issue. Now back to the garbled mess.
I went to hunt with Clark and Peyton again in their home state for opening day next. We heard plenty of turkeys off the roost but only one on the place we could hunt who wanted no part of us. We ended up striking two gobblers while we were walking around but after a few courtesy gobbles they went quiet never to be heard from again.
Clark had recently gotten permission on a new place that he hadn't stepped foot on so we went to check it out next. It all looked really good and we found a fresh set of gobbler tracks so we set up for 30-45 minutes and called (napped). Once we started covering ground again, we soon came to a small clover plot that looked like it should have turkeys around it. I made a series of calls, nothing answered, and we began to walk again. As soon as we took a step, a hen started yelping. We all three jumped back to a small tree and they got set up to shoot the direction she sounded like she was coming from. I expertly threw a curveball yelp with a left spin and she started walking up my side of the tree. She got to about 20 yards and we heard the loudest spit I've ever heard in my life. That really got our attention and I saw him strutting right at me but on the wrong side of a little tree. I had to let him slowly cover the distance while not moving a muscle so the hen wouldn't spook. He got right in line with the tree and started walking away, he and the hen both were getting nervous so I swung the gun up and killed him at about 20 steps. The loud spit made sense once we checked him on a scale. I knew he was big and he ended up weighing 25.4 pounds.
Don't ask about the curveball yelp because I ain't telling.
If I had to say there was a dark spot on my season it would be my home state. It was still a blast and I had one opportunity that I should've made work, but this was the first season in at least 10 years that I had to eat both of my tags. Our local population has fell off as bad if not worse than the rest of the state and I think that means I'll have to check out some new ground next year.
My dad and I tried a neighboring state in the same area I had seen four gobblers the last few days of season last year. We parked down the road and walked in but had someone drive past my truck and pull up where we were standing. They were nice enough to turn around but it was still a minor frustration. Once everything calmed down and it had gotten a little more daylight, we heard a turkey start gobbling a few hundred yards away. We got set up, but the woods were too open to get as close as I would've liked. While we were moving in, we heard another turkey gobbling a long ways off. We tried the first turkey but I thought I heard a hen with him one time, that along with the distance kept my hopes pretty low. While we were working him , we noticed the other turkey had covered quite a bit of ground and had turned into two turkeys! I spun around in case they came in from both directions but told my dad to spin around too when the duo had made it to 80 yards. They stayed there for a few minutes but some scratching and light yelps broke them and I heard a drum at about 60 yards. My dad got pointed down the logging road I thought they were on and 30 seconds later said he could see them. The strutter got to about 35 yards and stuck his head up looking for the hen, he found something else instead and fell over and started flopping. The other jumped straight up and landed at about 50 yards. I started a fighting purr and he came a little closer to 45. He decided he didn't want to end up like his buddy but was too slow making his exit. This was the first true double either of us had ever been apart of and it all happened before 6:30.
A few days later, I slept in to miss some storms then went to check an area I had been thinking about since last year. Clark and I had hunted a turkey he gave a name (I can't say it because it gives the location) and had in gun range twice but never laid eyes on him. This turkey definitely knew that the hen was supposed to come to him and he made sure to gobble every thirty seconds so that she wouldn't forget where he was.
I listened where we found this turkey from the road and heard one gobbling as far off as I could possibly hear. I shouldn't be able to hear 3/4 of a mile in this area but the terrain allowed me to. He was gobbling at least once a minute and I instantly thought of Clark's turkey. I found a way to get close to him with 1.25 miles of walking but he had shut up by the time I got over there. I added another word to the front of his name that morning.
Two days later, my grandpa came with me with plans to hunt closer to the road while I walked in where I had. At daylight I heard three turkeys and set up on the best gobbling one but he wasn't interested in me. About an hour after daylight, the named turkey made himself known to the world again by gobbling at least once a minute again. He was hard to course and when I would make it to the end of a ridge he would be on the next one over, I don't think he was moving, I think the sound was just traveling down the draws in strange ways. I finally made it to the bottom of his ridge and started up, planning to hit the top a couple hundred yards from him then work in close on the backside. Plans quickly changed when I made it almost to the top and he gobbled at 60 yards. I leaned against a tree with my gun up to make sure he wasn't coming to my, then crawled up to a bigger tree when I was sure he wasn't. I yelped lightly and he cut me off. He got a little closer then stood in one spot gobbling for a few minutes. At the back end of a gobble, I gave him three soft clucks and that was all he needed. He got to 30 yards with just his head visible but there was a limb the size of my hand blocking the majority of it. This went on for a good 5 minutes, I just needed one step but he wouldn't give it to me. Every time he would gobble I could see from his eyes up and every time he strutted I could see his waddles. Finally, he poked his head up, I was afraid that he was giving one last look and was about to be gone so I pulled the trigger.
I'm not positive this is the same turkey as last year, but pulling a piece of old shot out of his leg would explain the was he was acting.
Two days later, I was 1500 miles away to meet up with Clark and Peyton. They had both killed turkeys already so I was up to bat. We did some driving around looking for turkeys in a state neither of them had hunted yet and finally found some on private. After a short conversation, we got the go ahead and I was moving around on where we had just seen them. I got to the field and they were gone, so I sat down and called and two gobbles came back to me! I quickly saw them up on the hill about 300 yards away and they wasted no time to get to their new hen, stopping only to gobble when I called to keep tabs on them after they had dropped out of sight. In a few minutes, I saw them at about 40 yards just to my left. I made the small adjustment and killed the one on my right at 35 yards with Clark's gun since mine was still buried in our gear, talk about a good friend!
We started back in the same place the next morning and had another close call but Clark's FastFire not turning on cost him a turkey. I know I checked the sight after I was done with it and Clark said he checked it too but I'm still accepting the blame for the battery dying.
Nothing else was happening here, so we went to check some more places. We spotted a gobbler from the road and Peyton let out a few yelps just to mess with him. He surprised all of us by gobbling then ducking under a fence and heading our way! He kept coming and we realized there was a piece of state ground about 400 yards from us that he was walking towards. We hurriedly drove around and got set up. I walked out into the road and called, he gobbled back so close that I had to break out my fastest 100 meter dash to get back to the woods! This left us all scattered a little and he was coming straight to me. He got in the woods with us and was walking right at me, about 20 yards away when Peyton stopped him with a shot. I know this sounds a little dangerous, but they both knew exactly where I was sitting and he had plenty of room to shoot him.
The next day, we all met up with a person Peyton had been talking to online. John from Northwest Spurchasers on YouTube has got the turkeys in this area figured out and was more than willing to go with us so he could shoot some videos. The first spot we tried didn't yield any gobbles so we kept going up the mountain and eventually heard one from the road. He wasn't coming to us so we kept going to him (narrowly avoiding getting ran over by a dirtbike), and just as we were getting close spooked a turkey. The three of us poked our lips out a little and figured it was over but John didn't get discouraged one bit. We looped around and soon were on top on the mountain with three turkeys gobbling around us. Clark and I had the guns and we got setup on the closest two. This proved to be a bad decision when one gobbled 40 yards from John and Peyton. They spooked him trying to get one of us back with them but John said there was a turkey at the edge of his hearing range getting closer.
We set up on him and called and he kept coming. Clark was the shooter, I was backup, and John was filming over my shoulder. The gobbler came all the way too us without much of a hang up and eventually we could hear drumming. A few minutes later, I saw his head snaking through the brush and he got in an opening at about 25 yards. John didn't get as much footage as he would've liked but we had to explain that you take shots when you get them where we're from!
That wasn't all the action because a third turkey had started gobbling with the two that we had already tried to work. We dropped down a little and it became obvious to us that he wasn't coming up to us. I went ahead with John behind me and the others hanging back. I got to what I figured was about 80 from the turkey, just over a rise and John set up behind me. I yelped and he cut me off. In a few seconds, I saw him strutting up to my left at 35 yards. I actually tried to let John get some footage before I killed him, but he said he never saw him.
We hunted the state that Peyton and Clark had started in that afternoon. We got close and I think spooked two gobblers that didn't want to move, but we at least had a starting point. They decided to go after the two and I wanted to go after one that we heard close to the main road, even though we decided he had probably been called at quite a bit.
We split up and I ended up right under my turkey because I was able to walk down the blacktop. I backed off the road and did some tree yelps, he ate it up so I kept giving him some light calls every now and then until fly down. He did what I expected and went to private ground but was never getting any further. I would answer him after he gobbled several times then eventually went quite for 5 minutes. He ended up going quite too and when I checked him he had gotten closer. I could soon see him dropping off the hill coming towards me, once he got in the road he broke into strut and I could hear the force of his wings slapping the pavement. He gobbled then broke strut and got in the woods with me. At 5:50 I killed my last gobbler for the year.
We hunted a small private place that afternoon and the next morning but the turkeys ended up going the other way both times. They were scheduled to leave and I was going to stay for a couple more days but the price of the rental was more than I expected and I knew my wife was ready for me to be home so I headed that way also. It was a blast of a trip!
While my body is appreciative that I threw the towel in this early, I don't think that my mind will be able to get over it until sometime in March next year! I hope everyone had a great spring and thanks for taking the time to read!
Here's some of my favorite random pictures of the spring.
