So much to write, so little space….the past week or so has been a whirlwind. From weather to contentious, henned-up gobblers, we’ve seen a little bit of everything this first week of the season. Including snow, which is not a first for me and spring turkey hunting, but that doesn’t make it any more welcome.
Opening morning had Pat Howard, a buddy JP, and myself setup in a field neck-down area that birds typically frequent. After little to no activity, but some distant gobbling, we started a run and gun session which seemed to start, end, then re-begin over the course of the next three wet, windy, and wild days. Somewhere in there, Pat and I were able to draw over 50 birds towards our setup, then break one away just close enough for a shot. What resulted was a massive 25lb. 8oz gobbler that sported a 1″, and 1 and 3/16″ spur, along with a 9 5/8″ beard. Another monster for JP! Staying on this group, continually calling and visually monitoring their reactions to specific calls really won the day here. Lesson – get a look at them if at all possible when you’re calling to them, provided it’s not at the expense of good cover.
1 3/16″ Spurs!
On to Pat’s bird, which didn’t come as easy (interpret as really hard). Days of calling, close calls, and missed connections had Pat headed home to Wisconsin where the birds are less fickle. We called in 17 jakes to within shooting range, including a group of 10 twice in two days, but only one gobbler who got lucky and just barely missed a ride in the truck. Lessons – The box call in the wind worked real wonders, as did continual searching, even on different properties. Birds were in such large groups, you had to cover alot of ground till you eventually found them. Once you did, constant contact had to be made to ensure you’d still be “in-the-game”.
Ready in the Blind
Now my “B” season tag. More snow was on the way, so I gambled big time by sneaking into a sanctuary of roosted gobblers with my blind and bow no less. I got lucky with some moonlight, and more lucky still with the previous rain that softened my footsteps. 5:40AM brought the first gobble of what was to be one of the more incredible hunts I’ve ever been on in my life. It was relatively dark still, but within minutes I had 4 gobblers to my left, 2 behind me, and 3 more to my right. The closest was 75 yards who I walked under in the morning. The furthest were 150 yards. I had resolved to shoot my way out if I needed to, but didn’t plan on needing more ammunition. Three arrows sounds like alot, but not that morning. After fly-down I got into a calling competition with two hens that provided the perfect decoys. A lone gobbler at 60 yards broke from his hen to have a look with some soft purrs and clucks. At 25 yards, he stopped exactly where he shouldn’t have and started to alarm putt, then go into half strut…..repeat. Peculiar behavior to say the least. I later learned that I left B-mobile outside of the blind peeking out of his gamebag no less. Fail. Trying to do too much, with too little of a shot, I took the only ethical opening I had, and aimed high for his head neck. The arrow did a “twirly bird,” and I shot just over him. Nuts. “Oh well, there’s more” I told myself. Within minutes I was squaring off with another bird at 80 yards who would not budge. This lasted for over an hour, until a bird got fired up from all the calling I was doing behind me. A quick peek behind the blind, and he was 20 yards and closing fast. At 7 yards while walking past my blind, he saw something not quite to his liking and walked straight away to my left. Straightaway back shot at 20 yards. Perfect. Well, that’s only if he’s standing upright, rather than walking with his head down when you release the arrow. Another miss just high. This is getting ridiculous, until he stops again. This time with my third and final arrow knocked, slightly quartering away. THWAP!!! I connected and the bird went face first, wings out, and stumbled. I tore out of the blind, as the bird proceeded to outrun, then outfly me down and off the ridge. Crushed, I went back to look for my arrows. The one that counted was snapped in half, with blood 6 inches from the fletching, Rage 3 blade fully deployed.
Enough silly business, I hiked down the mountain, drove back to my place, and grabbed the shotgun. I kept replaying the shot in my mind, I thought I spined him perfectly….the arrow went right where I wanted it to. What happened??? Why did he fly??? I started at the bottom of the hill and worked the contour around the hill, below where I last saw him land, hoping to push him uphill in the event that I’d spook him. At 80 yards, I could see the bird was hurting, wings flapping straight in the air, and unable to really move much. When he poked his head up at 50 yards, I wasn’t taking any chances, and I used the gun to kill my bow-bird. Lessons – I need to be more selective with my shots, or not attempt to kill turkeys with a bow in the woods. Too much can go wrong, too many twigs, and they are worse than deer for stopping or positioning in less than perfect angles. Open areas are fine, they can work and move as they need to, then you can ready for the best shot needed. I also need to make sure junk is inside, not outside, of the blind. 
Windy Conditions – Where Did it Come From?
The last hunt of the early season was for my buddy Jake’s bird. Some of you may remember Jake’s jake from last year. We headed out to the same area in north central MN, looking for his first longbeard this year. Jake had the birds pretty well figured out, and we were a bit lucky to have a blind up and within 75 yards from gobbling birds first thing. Try as I may, they would not budge from a position not 100 yards across a swamp, though their incessant gobbling made me think they would walk around or fly it any second. We gave chase, and eventually found one of the group that had broken off from the others. He was on a field-edge pacing, while we were comfortably set-up on a small rise along a winding logging road, waiting to see him. The box call really shook ’em loose that day, firing up all our birds from great distance, particularly this one. That said, I took a tip from Pat Howard, who this spring heard quite a few live-hens mixing kee-kees in with their calling. Pat was doing it more with good results, so I mixed some in with assorted yelps and clucks. I really feel this was the closer, as the bird strut-walked the whole way up the winding trail, spitting and drumming each and every step of the way. It was a great end to our early season then to have the bird provide the quintessential turkey hunting experience for Jake’s first longbeard. What a bird it was. At 24 1/2lbs, with a 9″ beard, and 1″ spurs, we were more than happy with our successes. Lessons – fire ’em up deep, quiet as they draw near. Realism to your calling is always at a premium. Yelping every fifteen minutes on the clock won’t get it done with previously hunted birds. Put yourself in the mind of a hen turkey, and act like she would. Ride the roller-coaster of emotions, and just like a good guitar solo, don’t play your best riffs until the encore.
Joel