I write this report still somewhat in disbelief regarding the events that took place on Sunday morning, April 3rd, 2011. While working Cabela’s Turkey Classic the day previous, I had the great pleasure of meeting champion caller, and fellow turkey enthusiast Billy Yargus who was also working the event. It didn’t take much conversation, or listening to his calling, to figure out that Billy was one of the most studied (and practiced) students of the turkey woods. When someone with his credentials speaks, I’m definitely not too proud to listen. A professional caller since 1996, Billy has won eight championship titles, including the coveted NWTF Grand National Turkey Calling Champion honor in 2008. So it was that we began discussing “pre-hunting”; simply going out to call at birds as a primer to the upcoming season. Having been out scouting the day previous, I had a good lock on some birds nearby, and I offered to take him out the next morning to talk to some turkeys. Billy got a pretty good grin going, and he didn’t have to say “yes” for me to know that we’d be after some birds bright and early.
Morning broke early alright, but not so bright. At 3:30AM, I watched the last of the rain-showers move off-radar with a light wind, signaling a “go” for Billy and I to head out. 4:30AM brought some high winds right after the front that had me concerned we’d even be able to head out. We tossed on some camo and headed to an area that I knew had roosted birds nearby. On my way back from working Cabelas, I saw two toms head towards a hilltop roost site at about 6pm. They wouldn’t be far from our intended position which was a flat and open hardwoods spot on the nose of a high ridge. Scouting and past hunts had me thinking we’d be hopefully surrounded by birds, and the high winds made our approach much easier. As flydown time grew near, Billy voice-called the sweetest owl-hoot I’ve personally witnessed to no avail. That’s right, no calls, just his voice. A few minutes of silence longer, and we eventually heard a lone hen about 60 yards away give a single soft string of yelps. Cue the champion-caller.
Tree clucks that sounded clean as dripping water were the first course on the menu, followed by some subdued, but continuous tree yelps. With no response, he kept at it, gradually crescendo-ing with both volume and aggressiveness until a tom gobbled. Out in front of us about 80 yards were some birds exiting the trees, and at least two toms in that direction were obviously “henned-up” tight. No matter, as Billy got more aggressive, heaping on excited cutts mixed with kee-kees, straight to long, lonesome, and raspy yelps…it was apparent that the hens sure didn’t like the new loudmouth on the block. Two different hens for a short time each started in on Billy, as he methodically mimicked, then cut them off…eliciting a more excited response than each time before. And then silence. Nothing. We were confused as to just what happened, until Billy said simply “coyote – out in front.” I picked up the camera, zoomed in tight, and even though that ‘yote saw me, he didn’t know whether to trust his eyes (seeing me) or his ears (Billy’s calling). Billy laid on the clucks and purrs, sweet and thick, causing that coyote to close from 20 yards to almost 15 over the course of a minute or two. I’ve never seen a coyote advance after seeing what was obviously not a turkey, and continue forward; yet another testament to the realism in his calling. Eventually, the coyote’s nose trumped his ears, and took off running. Excited by the encounter, yet interested in getting our toms back, we took a few minutes to gather our thoughts. Just as we were about to get up, I spotted a gobbler approaching from behind us, 25 yards and now a bit skittish working his way back down the hill. Boogered? Spooked?
We quickly turned our bodies, and Billy started on that bird again. I took out the box call and gave some louder yelps for good measure, though I’m pretty sure it was the hard cutting that got a number of gobbles to echo below the hill, just down and out of sight. For nearly 10 minutes, continuous hard and heavy calling; including fast cutts, fighting purrs, leaf scratching (me), wing-flapping (Billy’s hat) – kept those birds gobbling and pacing just below us and out of sight. A pause in the calling was all it took to get four 2-year old gobblers to march up that hill and see just what was going on. I continued to take photos as several of the birds searched the leading edge of the flat, peering off into the woods without seeing that magical hen. Eventually, they lost interest and worked away. Not before we got to see each and every one of them, including the one that “spooked”, in great detail as close as 25 yards away. Bread and butter shotgun birds each of them.
I’ve heard some great callers, and hunted with some phenomenal old-boys that have killed more birds than I ever will, but I’ve never hunted with someone who could mimic the sounds of a live hen, and get into the mind of an adult male turkey like Billy Yargus could. This past year I had the pleasure of judging the MN state competition, and no disrespect to those competitors, but I could tell which type of call they were using, including tell-tale signs that they were human. There were times with Mr. Yargus, where I would’ve swore he was a live hen. As a turkey hunter, we need a fair dose of many skills to excel, but some would boil it down to two talents – woodsmanship and calling. Billy relayed a story from one of turkey hunting’s greats (who shall remain un-named to protect his anonymity) that once got in an argument with a client he was taking out regarding calling vs. woodsmanship. The guide felt that woodsmanship was a prerequisite, and it will kill lots of birds, but realistic calling in the face of how much calling goes on out there these days will kill more. The client heartily disagreed, and an argument ensued. The next morning, the guide put the client on a big old gobbler. Right as rain, the bird flew down within plain sight but out of gun range, and started working his way down the fenceline away from the guide and client. The client asked the guide to start calling, to which the guide replied “How ‘bout you throw some woodsmanship at him.” The guide would not call, and the turkey walked off. Point well-taken.
I learned a great amount of information in a short amount of time that morning, and while I may never achieve the calling prowess that he has, I’m likely to adopt several of the cadences, tips, and tricks that he relayed during our hunt together. Which is the beauty of turkey hunting. We beg, borrow, and steal what we can that others are willing to offer, only to change it and shape it towards our own strengths as hunters. There are things Billy did that would work well with my skill sets, and other things that would not. Either way, there’s more than one way to skin a gobbler. Conversely, by experience I can tell you that there’s many, many more ways to not. Spending time with gurus are invaluable experiences, so take the chance this season to learn from more than just the turkeys!
Thanks Billy, I appreciated your company and calling more than you know!
Joel