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Archives for July 2017

How Hen and Poults Roost Photo Essay

July 17, 2017 by Charlie 8 Comments

Thanks to Tennesse Magazine for these photos

Wild turkey on the roost with her poults trying to give them the best shelter that she can provide.

Giving shelter with her wings

Notice the large lateral branches the hen has chosen. When scouting note trees with these types of branching, wild turkeys favor them for roosting.

Looks like the poults are getting unruly–Yelp!

 

Attention, something is coming our way.

Notice how small these poults are and they’re sitting up in a large tree already.

 

Looks to be more peaceful while the kids were in the eggs.

Looks like the nesting hen is turning her eggs.

Please post your captions in the comments.  Enjoy. 

Filed Under: News Tagged With: turkey news, Wild Turkey

Wyoming Snow Turkeys

July 13, 2017 by Charlie 38 Comments

In many parts of the country, July spells are hot, or July suffers hot spells, in any case, the heat can be oppressive.  While all this is happening memories of snow and frozen turkeys sound extra appealing. After experiencing an intoxicating Colorado turkey hunt that came to an end much faster than anticipated any “regular” turkey hunter would try to figure out where to hunt next.  Well, Wyoming is on the way home from Colorado to Wisconsin, right?

At times it seems like Nebraska is everywhere

On the drive north to Wyoming, hey forgot about having to traverse Nebraska too, the weather forecast for Sundance not only contained rain.  But the rain was expected to turn into snow by morning in the shadow of Devil’s Tower.  Change of plans on the fly seemed a prudent choice.  Check the Wyoming map, err; What Wyoming map?  A stop at the Sidney Cabelas fixed that problem with the purchase of aWyoming onXmap GPS map chip.  Cell phones do not work where there is prime hunting in the hills of Wyoming.

Wunderground has personal weather stations all over the country for which they provide point weather forecasts.  Due to incoming weather, my decision was to hunt much further south than usual where only rain was supposed to fall during the night. The map chip got me to a remote campsite in an area with lots of potential and high enough that I should be able to hear morning turkeys for quite a distance.

Totally content, sipping a hot cup of coffee in a snug camp I figured I’d better refresh the old memory about the ins and outs of Wyoming hunting regulations.  “You have got to be kidding!?” my brain silently screamed, a habitat stamp is required, and the kindly elder lady at the gas station forgot to mention when I asked if this is all the license needed to hunt turkeys.  Oh, well, bless her, my mother wouldn’t have told me any different.

Turkey hunting destinies do not work out in obvious ways. The jeep’s bouncing along in the dark on my camp’s trail signaling the 160+ mile habitat stamp round trip was nearly the end.  I now felt like something great was going to happen in the morning.  Thank goodness that Shopko had still been open on this fateful Sunday.

At my predawn awakening, it was evident by the sag in the tent, that snow had moved further south.  The good news, the temperature was

Wyoming spring turkey hunt welcome mat

well below freezing which ensured the Colorado gobbler was frozen solid, likely for the duration of the expedition.

At this point in the story, I’d love to write about toms on every mountain top angrily gobbling the snow away and stomping in practically tripping over their beards.  But, alas, that is not the way the day went.   This turkey hunter did his share, make that more than his share of tromping or slipping up then down hill and dale to the tune of a gobble-less day.

My body tells time, there is no sense to wearing a watch or checking a phone see what the time is, a turkey hunter must learn to operate on turkey time.  Whatever in the world that is exactly.  Unmistakably, it was approaching evening meaning it would be a good idea to move from my after dinner relaxation and into putting a gobbler to bed mode.  Camp is remote, thankfully, I shouldn’t have to travel far, just to point over there and make some turkey talk.

Stretching as I stood up from a good camp meal I put the wingbone call to my lips and let loose some plaintive lost yelps immediately answered by the first gobble of the day.  The sound echoed making it difficult to tell where it emanated from, yelped again.  By golly, those birds are close and getting closer fast!

Grabbed the shotgun and started heading for some kind of a setup.  As any experienced turkey hunter can attest a “setup” can be overrated in particular when you see the strutters heading your way across an open alpine meadow.  Hunter movement is not helpful in this case, so I artlessly hide standing behind the closest towering Ponderosa pine.

The gobbling has stopped for what seems an eternity.  A peek to see what is going is imperative in my mind.   The peek reveals two toms strutting on their toes as if a pair of ballerinas.  At thirty yards it’s time to get to the shooting part.  Mountain Merriams are not noted for how close they get to a hunter.

As I stepped around and even with the tree keeping my left shoulder in contact the far gobbler drops out of strut and begins eating!  The near tom stays in half strut while extending his neck to get a better look at the expanding tree.

This is why it is important to camp where the game is rather than staying miles away.

Perhaps he thought the shotgun was just a growing branch.  Somethings we will never know.

 

 

 

Nightfall brought clear sky with bright stars.

Nothing to do now except enjoy the evening.

Filed Under: News, Turkey Hunting Tagged With: hunting, hunting stories, Turkey Hunting, turkey hunting story, Wild Turkey

Gobbling Baby Turkeys

July 13, 2017 by Charlie 11 Comments

Poults gobbling!? I had never heard or seen this before my buddy Shane Simpson at Calling all Turkeys brought this my attention.


Turkeys continue to amaze.

Filed Under: Featured Stories Tagged With: Wild Turkey

Wild Turkey Mating In the Middle of Road!? Lookout a Car is Coming! Video Proof

July 7, 2017 by Charlie 7 Comments

More incredible video from American Wild Turkey Hunting Dog Association
This show went on for 29 minutes, the Hen telling Tom where to go! While her poults sit tight, she’s telling him he’s supposed to be a sentinel on the lookout, not trying to court her, you big dummy! The poults like to feed in the ditches, while Tom thinks the road is his strutting ground.
Turn up the speakers, what do you think she’s saying? In the next video, count how many poults are left.


It’s July 7, 2017, the turkey books say mating is done by now. Consider, this feathered lady already has thirteen kids.

There were 13 from this one hen, 2 days ago. Don’t know how they manage, between the cars, the weather and all the predators. There are a few stragglers in the bunch, so keep watching.

Note by charlie: Make sure to click the AWTHDA link above to check out more information on wild turkeys and while you’re there consider joining.

Filed Under: Featured Stories Tagged With: news, Wild Turkey, Wisconsin

A Sensational Turkey Hunter Goof Up

July 6, 2017 by Charlie 8 Comments

Luck is an indispensable asset during any successful turkey hunt.  Not just luck at the beginning but it requires luck at every intersection of the hunt.  Take for example one of my recent hunts during Wisconsin’s last spring season.   I had a surefire plan, also known in turkey hunting parlance as a preconceived notion.

The previous day I had a six and half hour calling duel with a blabber beak type of gobbler who did not have the good manners to come and show himself.  We introduced ourselves at 8:45 A and chatted back and forth until 3:15 P. Tried the silent treatment on him several times, needed a break from all the noise not to mention the old fingers were in need of rest.  Plus the wingbone pucker needed to ease off my face. But each time he matched the silence while moving off 100+ yards to then give that nana you can’t get me gobbles, this only made me more determined to kill him.  No luck, so all that night as I slept, I dreamed up – The Plan.

After the three miles foggy Mississippi River boat ride, the tedious wet slog to Mr. Babbler Beak’s haunt begin.  The determination to get this particular bird was dominating my thoughts even though a wrong step could have frigid water pouring into my knee boots.  Swamp turkeys can be most provoking.

Less than a quarter of the way into the plan an urgent gobble erupts.  An unaccounted for occurrence in the hunt is an intersection; the hunter must decide to continue or change of mind.  An easy decision, change of the plan.  I figured out a doable setup on a relatively dry finger of land, a few soft tree yelps and settled in for fly down.

Air swooshing through feathers followed by a dull thud marked his landing.  Scratching out the most urgent yelps I could muster brought a robust series of approaching gobbles.  Down went the slate and up with the gun, just in time he’s right there in strut with two hens flanking him.  When he moves clear, the blast swirls the fog, and I launch up to claim my prize.

Except, there is no prize laying there.  What the heck?  I saw him go down, after searching the area I turn around to go back to the setup, perhaps I’m looking in the wrong spot. Uh, no, that ripped down sapling caught all the shot.  The tom is unscathed.

I Swear there really was a turkey there, while sitting against this tree.

Here  I am at another intersection, is this a sign to go on with the original plan or stay in the area and pursue this lucky gobbler.

Working my way in the direction the hens went pays off.  They flush, rising straight up above the oaks heading different directions, excellent they are out the picture.  The tom should miss them at some point and call out for his ladies.  I grin when he does – I’ll do the answering.

One of the hens had a nest on an elevated piece of ground to keep it out of the coming flood.

Like the hands on a clock, I move forward listening carefully.  At different points, a couple of does break cover crashing off leaving behind their well-hidden fawns. Who can pass up taking those pictures?

Need to be careful where a hunter steps today.

Another one! I really have to watch my step.

Gobbling begins in earnest somewhere up ahead, can’t pinpoint it exactly as I continue moving forward until I realize he is on another strip of land to the east.  The water is too deep to cross so backtracking is required to a more amicable crossing point. Dang river has been at flood stage all spring making stealthy approaches on longbeards difficult at best.

The woodland is open, full of mature maples and oaks with good visibility on the strip he chose.  This is good news in that I have a better chance of seeing him and bad news, he has an even better opportunity to see me.  Move down a bank to sneak along the water’s edge, slipping on the mud occasionally but this breaks up my outline while allowing to see.

The tom’s course yelps carry through the mist to my ears telling me it is time to pick a spot and start talking turkey. Of course, these spots are never perfect, my seat sinks down, no matter it is showtime.  My first calls are answered with robust gobbling that is closing in.  And, of course, he is across the water from me as he walks by out of range.  I amp up my calling as soon as his head goes behind some trees this causes him to spin back and walk his back trail right past out of range.  My calls continue every time he can’t see me, his gobbles start to fade with distance.  My hope is he is going cross back to my side somewhere up ahead.  Taking advantage of the pause in action I reposition into a convenient blow down which provides me better cover and good visibility.

There’s a white/blue head bobbing its way towards me, stopping to look for danger and hens.  At fifty yards he goes behind and large maple,

Turkey hunting is great if for no other reason plans change

seemed like he stayed there for an eternity.  When a gobbler is searching like this silence is a turkey hunter’s friend.  His juking head preceded him as came out trotting in full strut facing my position.  At thirty yards dropped out of strut to start yelping.  I won’t claim to know

The shot caught him mid yelp.

what he was saying in “turkey speak” but those were his last words.

 

 

 

Filed Under: News, Spring Turkey, Stories, Turkey Hunting Tagged With: Turkey Hunting, Wild Turkey, wild turkey story, Wisconsin Turkey Hunting

Stressed Hen Turkey Struts and Drags Wings

July 6, 2017 by Charlie 2 Comments

Submitted by AWTDA
It’s a hard life, trying to protect seven babies by yourself! This hyper hen was in a near perpetual 3/4 tail strut, almost dragging her wings,
warning anybody that sees her she’s a formidable threat. Notice her head position is always on alert, she rarely gets something to eat herself, always on a lookout for danger. Where are them big tough gobblers, when a mother could use a little help around here?

Do hens suffer from the loss of gobblers? For more tiptoeing around the issue see AWTDA

Filed Under: News, Spring Turkey Tagged With: news, video, Wild Turkey

What did the Hen say to Her Poults Before Crossing the Road

July 4, 2017 by Charlie 9 Comments

Updated July 5, 2017

Courtesy of American Wild Turkey Hunting Dog Association

Notice how smart birds are, that they know enough to get off the road when a car is coming? As if they tell the young ones: “Be careful crossing the road, your great, great, great Aunt Matilda was killed by a car and don’t you forget it!”

How many are left?

What’s the odds of one hen’s 13 poults surviving until 2 weeks old? We
got a good count when they crossed the road this morning.

14 turkeys survived the fireworks, a 1/4 mile from their roost last night. Watch a 25 second video in Vivid Color from this morning

Filed Under: News Tagged With: news, Wild Turkey, Wisconsin

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