Moment you were hooked

[Cut N Run]

April of 1982 for me, I was 21 and knew next to nothing about hunting turkeys, except you had to be still & not call too much, my grand Daddy had told me. He always said the wild turkey was king of the woods and if you could consistently hunt them, it was a major accomplishment.

So, I heard one gobble from the roost the evening before on a piece of property I had rights to hunt.  Like a fool, I invited my neighbor along to hunt with me the next morning.  There was an old logging road winding through some mature hardwoods with an outcrop of big rocks by a bend in the road, which made an ideal natural spot to set up.  I brought my Lynch box call that I'd bought at the flea market & didn't really know how to run right. Camo was a surplus army field jacket and pants with a tiger stripe surplus camo boonie.  I'd also bought some of those next to useless mesh gloves that made it hard to hold on to anything & real easy for mosquitoes to bite through.  I also got a mesh camo veil with an elastic band for face covering.  When I met my neighbor at his house, he was dressed to hunt rabbits in matching brown cotton duck jacket, pants, and a sun bleached Jones style cap. In the dark, he looked more like a lighthouse with that bright cap (I immediately suspected my mistake asking him along).

We hiked back along the logging road through the cutover to the timber, then eased along the road in the dark to the rocks and got set up.  So far, so good.  It started getting light and the woods were waking up. Later than I expected, A gobble erupted from less than 150 yards down the ridge and I was instantly addicted.  My neighbor immediately started loudly whispering "Jim, Jim, Call to him!"  while waving his hand (like somehow I couldn't hear him).  I put my hand up, palm facing him in a "stop" motion.  That didn't do anything but stir up the mosquitoes feasting on my mesh gloved hand.  The lighthouse head swiveled my way again, "Call to him!"  Remembering something I'd read that said not to call until he was on the ground, I held tight.  I put a gloved finger up to my lips in the universal "SHHHHH" gesture towards my noisy, glowing neighbor, who kept on pleading for me to call.  The gobbler kept hammering from his roost, and finally flew down.  It was quiet for a bit, then a gobble came from down the logging road in front of us, out of sight.  I scratched out a pitiful squeaky yelp on that Lynch and the gobbler fired back again & again.  My heart was in my throat. "Call to him!" came from the rocks to my right.

I saw a big, black blob drifting towards us down the logging road.  The gobbler hit a shaft of sunlight where his fan illuminated and the colors on his head brightened to an electric blue, white, and red. Holy Crap, this was gonna happen!  I slowly eased the safety off my Ithaca 37 R and looked down the rib to get both beads lined up. There was a mosquito between the veil and my cheek, and I tried to blink it away. My neighbor was behind big enough rocks that he hadn't seen the turkey show coming down the road and wasn't able to lay eyes on the bird yet. The bird gobbled again, obviously closer.  He was almost about in range.  My neighbor couldn't stand it, he scooted forward, craned his neck where he could see around the rock, and busted the gobbler with his lighthouse cap.  PUTT--PUTT!!!,  That turkey sprinted off faster than I realized anything could move through the woods.  I felt a tidal wave of disappointment rush through me.  "Call him back!!" my neighbor commanded....  It was the last time we ever hunted together.   Since then, turkeys have had me where they wanted me and they squeeze a little tighter every year.

It took me a few years after that to kill my first gobbler, even though I called in several birds for others to kill on their property.  After that first encounter, I studied and learned everything about turkey that I could, including who NOT to hunt with.

Jim

[Will]

It was about 35 years ago when I went Fall turkey hunting with my dad and uncles. We were in the mountains and it was in the afternoon. I knew nothing about turkey hunting as I was 12 years old but heard a shot up on the ridge close by. Minutes later I hear what sounded like a dog barking. Frustrated as it was getting closer I laid eyes on a big long beard working his way down the hill. Turned out he was yelping and it was those course yelps that sounded like a dog. Little did I know when I shot at him I had 2 hens within 10 yards of me. Those hens bust in the air and flew right over my head. I had a Stevens Double Barrel 12 at the time and still had a second shell. I missed that gobbler on the first shot but was so mesmerized at the flight of those hens I couldn't move. Two years later I would kill my first turkey, a fall hen. I've been obsessed ever since.

[Howie g]

Spring of 1979 on a beautiful ridge top in east feleciana La .
I've been goofy for a gobbling turkey every since !

[Gooserbat]

1983, first time I heard a gobbler

[strum]

 Im 57  and hunted deer most of my adult life. Never even gave turkeys a thought. In 2009 one of my friends got me interested with some of his stories and I thought id give it a try. I went Walmart and picked up a Primos Box cutter for 19 bucks . Didnt know how to run it of course but that was all i had. We went to a spot I had seen turkeys at during deer season and he helped me make a blind out of foliage . This was my spot for that whole season. Maybe a week into it , I got set up and a bird hammered right at daybreak above me . I started banging on that  Boxcutter and here he came. Ill never forget seeing him almost on a run down that mountain  straight for me .  So I just started making the worst sounds you could ever hear . Well of course he threw on the brakes and at 60 yards out , turned around and went back the other way. Like a fool I kept right one hitting that call as he was disappearing. That day still haunts me. I was hooked right then and there. I learned my very first lesson that morning. It took all season and I made every mistake you could make untill the very last morning of that season when I used a Ben Lee super hen to call one in. I still have that fan and the shell hull on my wall. Ive almost quit deer hunting but I hit the turkey woods as hard as I can all season . Crying when its over and longing for the next spring.

[Tom007]

My father-in-law got me into hunting in 1982. Started out grouse hunting with an 870 20 gauge. One day, I saw a group of turkeys. I said to my father-in-law I would like to try hunting Turkey. He laughed and said your wasting your time. Nobody can call in and kill a Turkey. They are like ghosts. I decided to give it a try. Bought a Quaker Boy Old Boss hen mouth call and a Lynch box and practiced everyday. Read some magazines, bought some Tiger stripe camo and in 1983, went out for the PA opening day. Walked in in the dark to a spot I scouted that looked good, and set up. Just before daybreak, I heard a distant gobble! Wow. I stated calling. After a few minutes, he answered. So as an armature, I called back, he answered. I called and called, he answered, coming closer each time. The last gobble was loud, then silence. I kept calling, nothing. Where is he? Nothing. 5 minutes past, I decided to look behind me. I heard alarm putts (did not know what they were) and spotted the Tom run off. He was about 70 yards behind me. How did he get there without seeing me? Well, I figure I'll call him back. I sat for another hour, nothing. The drive home was frustrating, why did he not come in front of me? He was interested, gobbled every time I called? I only hunted weekends, so I had all week to study why he eluded me. I told my father-in-law what happened, he chuckled and said "see, they tough, no one gets them birds". The rest of the week, I read whatever info on birds I could find. The story in a magazine that changed the game for me said the gobblers are not supposed to go to the hen, hunters are trying to reverse nature by calling the Tom in. Over-calling will put him on guard, he will wait for the hen to appear. Yes, he will close the distance, but stay in his comfort zone, far enough away from the call. The following Saturday, I went in earlier, walked closer in to where I thought he was roosting. Just before day break, boom, gobble. I yelped once, he triple gobbled. I put gun up on knee, no more calling. After about 15 minutes, out in front of me, here he comes. Strutting, but no gobbling. 60, 50, 40, 30 bang. He flopped. I could not believe it. He was a 22 pound Tom, 10 inch beard, one inch spurs. My first and most memorable Tom! The long walk out of the woods was surreal with him over my shoulder...I was hooked

[MISSISSIPPI Double beard]

The moment I was hooked was when I learned you didn't hunt turkeys like deer. I'm pretty much self taught and when I learned to communicate with turkeys my whole world changed.

[Dtrkyman]

Not positive but it was around 1990, and after the first gobble I was all in.

  And one other thing that stands out was creeping in on a gobbling turkey I ran into 2 jakes that were still on the limb, they starting putting and walking up and down a large oak limb, they looked like dinosaurs up there!

[zelmo1]

May 3rd 2001, first day I ever hunted turkeys. Bird gobbled at the farmer starting his tractor. He flew down and proceeded to gobble and circle me for 2 hours. Finally got a good head shot and shot him. Biggest jake I ever saw, 18.5 pounds. Biggest adrenaline rush I ever had in the woods. Gets better every time. I will probably die in the woods listening to turkeys gobbling. Perfect ending to my story ?

[GobbleNut]

New Mexico initiated its first spring season somewhere around 1965 or thereabouts.  I was in my early teens at the time, and the nearest turkey hunting opportunity was about an hour's drive away, so my early-years experiences with spring gobbler hunting were extremely limited.  In addition, it was just a novelty hunt initially with a very short season.  All in all, in those first few years I hunted, there was little to no chance "the bug" could bite me.

Although I killed my first gobbler in 1969 in what can only be legitimately described as a "drive-by" incident, that "taste" of spring gobbler hunting stirred me to get more serious about the prospects of continuing the pursuit.  In addition, about that time, spring hunting was becoming popular enough that regular articles were occurring in the three major outdoor magazines available during that era,...Outdoor Life, Sports Afield, and Field & Stream. 

My early experiences, although failures, peeked my interest in spring hunting enough that I started reading every article that came out about it.  I was particularly intrigued by the idea that, if done properly, the spring pursuit involved locating gobbling tom turkeys and somehow persuading them to come to a turkey call. Each new spring, I would head to the woods armed with whatever new information I had gleaned from those articles and from my own failed attempts. 

Still, with our short seasons, limited access to authentic-sounding turkey calling instruments, and my even-more-limited experience and knowledge about what the heck I was doing, I continued to end up with an unfilled tag when each subsequent season ended.  Even so, I was gradually putting the pieces of the puzzle together.  I had figured out that turkeys could be located by being in the woods at the first (and last) hints of daylight by listening for gobbling.  I also had, by then, a rudimentary understanding of how to make realistic turkey sounds, and a gradually-increasing knowledge of when to make them and what to say.

Even with my lack of success, I had developed a determination to figure it out.  That "figuring it out" came on the very last day of our spring season in 1975 when I had a gobbler answer my calling mid-morning from a high ridge several miles into the Gila Wilderness in southern NM.  Watching that gobbler come strutting and gobbling down that pine-studded ridge was the final barb needed to hook me.  The passion for those moments has never faded over the last half-century. 

I'm not sure I could make it back to that spot in the wilderness at this stage of the game, but if I was to somehow hear another gobbler from that spot, I would surely try! 

[Uncle Tom]

Was in the 90's and I deer hunted long as I can remember, and I heard gobbles all the time sitting in tree stands, and never knew what it was...until one day I saw a TV show of a guy turkey hunting and a tom gobbling....remember hearing that sound while deer hunting I said. Had never seen a turkey in the wild, but they opened the season in my county in mid 90's and I bought me a 1300 Winchester pump from a guy for $125, a ole Lynch world champion box call,turkey shells, a turkey choke ....was going to give it a try. My wife told me a guy she worked with said I would turkey hunt a long time before I would kill a turkey. I remember saying if they can't smell like a deer I would kill him. Little did I know that would be true my first hunt. I had seen a video on how to do a fly down cackle....boy, I was ready. Went out before light that first day and got down close to this creek where had heard on the evening before fly up. Well, standing there in the dark waiting, he gobbled on the limb down below me and few minutes I did the fly down cackle...just like the video. Boom, he gobbled right back. I  laid down in this ditch because no tree to back up to....had my decoy out just a few feet from me. He came gobbling in from that roost, spitting and druming, and had no idea what that was, but in few minutes there he was just few feet from my decoy....almost took his head off. A 22 lb boy, dragging a rope....been hooked ever since.

[Jimspur]

Spring of 1979. Woke up to a gobble in my tent at 7:00 am and thought
that was the coolest thing I'd ever heard. Asked the guys I was camping with if that was a turkey, and they said yes. I was instantly hooked.
Been hunting them ever since. Killed my first one 3 years later at 25 yards
with a Remington 1100 with a 28" fixed modified choke barrel, and
a Remington Express load of 1 1/4oz of #5's. Good times on public land.

[Beards and Hooks]

 As many have stated, the first time I heard a gobble I was hooked. X 10 the first time I had a bird hammering back at my calling. I unfortunately can't remember that exact date or year 

[makestomstremble]

April 24, 1983
Pawnee County, OK Arkansas River bottom
My first turkey season
Called in a 2 year old with Lynch box call, made three yelps, sat it down beside me, watched the bird walk under the fence from the neighbors property and stop about 25 feet from me. I was amazed how he could pinpoint that small amount of calling I did and just walk right up to me. Raised my gun up off my lap as he slowly walked off and his head disappeared behind a tree.

[quackaddict]

I probably wasn't but about 12 or so. My dad joined a hunting club just because of me. He didn't really hunt much at all(lots of backstory, but that's the important part). I was lucky enough to go to one of the first JAKES camps in Edgewood. Met some legends. Watched I don't know how many Truth videos. My first turkey hunt I'll never forget.

I had been practicing a ton with my calls. Had a Limbhanger mouth call, a box call from my JAKES camp(pretty sure it was an HS Strut that had the plastic lid lock deal and was camo), and I think that was it. Dad had an SKB 12ga semi he won at a DU banquet I was toting with a factory full and some 2 3/4" Remington steel #4s.

That bird must have gobbled 200 times that morning. And he answered me enough that I remember it. He never showed up, and I've been trying to figure them out since.


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