Turkey Hunting in April

Ultimate test of patience? Turkey hunting in April

 Woods, John J

At my age only two things in life make me get up before sunrise. That's running to the restroom before my bladder blows a gasket or turkey hunting, and in that exact order.

Even dreams of a wily record whitetailed buck are no longer enough to pry me from the covers of my soft and warm bed-dome domain. Ah, but, a roosted gobbler clearing his throat on a crisp, cool, Mississippi bluebird day. That will do it.

Take On Gobbler Challenge

The Magnolia State's spring turkey season is in full bloom in April, and these days the woods are full of glary-eyed camo clad hunters trying to fake out a gobbler with a series of hen copycat calls. For this hunter, turkey hunting represents the quintessential base element of plying one's hunting savvy against the coolest species to roam the woodlands.

Turkey hunting is the purest form of matching wits between a hunter and the quarry there is to be had in the whole of the sport of hunting. The eastern species of the American wild turkey is the best at his game on earth and it takes the best of the best of hunters to consistently score on them. Note that I said consistently.

Those hunters that hang up their calls after one lucky kill have admonished themselves way too soon in the process. Now give me a hunter that has been chasing Magnolia gobblers for at least 10 years, and I'll show you a guy ripe for couch time with a therapist. It's a hunting challenge I hardily recommend to anybody wanting the ultimate one-on-one thrill in the woods.

Gobbler getting skills

It takes a wide-ranging skill set to be a really good turkey hunter. One has to know land topography, terrain layout, how to use camouflage effectively, be skillful using a variety of turkey calls and know when to switch back and forth. They have to know how to move about the woods in a total stealth mode without spooking any form of wildlife that might give away their position. Fooling squirrels and bluejays is part of the game, too.

Turkey hunters have to literally think as they run on their feet, though the "run and gun" tactic has taken a back seat as of late to strategies more concentrated on securing the most ideal set up and then playing the wait-it-out game. Keen hearing is a godsend, but sharp eyes are essential, as well. Paramount is the ability to sit totally motionless even to the point of allowing mosquitoes to eat you alive without flinching. Then there are the spring-activated water moccasins, fire ants, and ticks to deal with.

Turkey hunting is a thinking hunter's game, too. The old tom is answering your calls but hangs up on the far side of a mud hole. Do you change calls? Do you move? Where? When? Maybe back up and come in from a different angle? A working bird that won't work will drive a sane turkey hunter to drink, swear or worse. Oh, yeah, I almost forgot. Turkey hunters have to be a darned good shot, too, under pressure.

'What next?' scenario

The season before last I was setting up to work my third and final gobbler kill. This is a rare enough event for me even after chasing turkeys now for 34 years. It was to be an afternoon hunt, which is my personal favorite since it doesn't have to commence until around two or three o'clock.

I popped up my blind along a fence line looking into the corner patch of a big field. I set up two decoys and settled into my seat. Everything was laid out. I had my favorite Woods-Wise box call, my all-time favorite Primos slate call and an assortment of mouth calls positioned within easy reach.

The Zeiss binoculars were a fingertip's reach away alongside a water bottle. The ThermaCell skeeter machine was smoking away doing its magic. I was covered head-to-toe in Mossy Oak Obsession, and my reliable tom whacker Remington 11-87 was stoked with Hevi-Shot No. 5 loads. The 500mm Nikon was ready, too. I looked like a sitting sales display for Mean Mallard in Ridgeland.

Being a bit windy, I first cranked on the box call and boy howdy a gobbler off in the far woods sounded right back. He was hot, but slow to come. By 3 o'clock he edged out of the woods to strut in full glory along the edge of the field. He played this game for about 30 minutes until I heard the unremarkable sound of a farm tractor coming down the highway. I was already thinking to myself, "Nah, no way."

Yep, next I heard the chain rattle on the gate coming into my field. The gobbler vanished. The tractor driver came to my end of the field and began plowing. He would drive right by the decoys but totally ignored them. He never spotted me in my fence line hideout. I just waited him out, because I did not want to reveal my presence. The plow work went on until promptly 5 p.m. He parked the tractor, got off, and a car picked him up at the gate. I was in near total shock. My hunt was busted.

When all else fails

So, sitting there, I figured what the heck. I picked up the Primos slate and induced a selection of seductive hen yelps and clucks. To my absolute total amazement the gobbler answered and at the second round of calls, he stepped right back out into the field from where he disappeared.

Apparently he kept his eyes pealed on the hen decoys and must have figured if they could wait out this guy on that green machine thing, he could, too. He resumed his full strut and gobbled repeatedly, to which I responded in kind.

Over the next 45 minutes he inched his way forward toward the hens. He came all the way around the edge of the field, crossed the corner, dropped off out of sight into a ditch, and then popped up again 50 yards in front of me just beyond the decoys. He strutted and coaxed, but finally gave it up to give the decoys a face-to-face inspection.

That was his fatal mistake. One blast of the Hevi-Shot load at 20 paces ended it. That is except it took me another half hour to get my pulse rate under control. Now, that's what I call a turkey hunt.

Turkey hunting will surely test the metal that's in you and more often than not melt it on occasion or at the very least tarnish it. Over time one can beat a few of them, but as sure as the sun rises some of the crafty ones will have you talking in the mirror. And all of that is what keeps us getting up before daylight every turkey season. Even me.

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