wild turkey story

Life Beyond a Screen

September 5, 2018 by Charlie 4 Comments

My rowboat slipped quietly to the dock, as usual, the dogs were excited to disembark and get about the most critical of dog business,

Sunrise on the lake is relaxing even for a husky.

checking to see who left new scents during their absence.

The husky, Jaz, whined while Vic snorted as they both scramble out onto the dock claws scratching on the dock boards as I held their leashes in check. The low water level makes it a bit of a challenge for me to get up on the dock and as I straighten up to look around for any incoming dog company, none to be seen so we start clomping down the galley-way only to pull up short to take in the weird sight confronting us. It appears time has stopped!

No one is moving at this ordinarily bustling village boat landing. There are tourists scattered about, but they are all frozen in place staring at these odd small rectangles held in the hands. Even their small designer dogs are stopped stiffly at leash end. Did I row us into another dimension or perhaps a Twilight Zone where time stands still? My head snaps a look back from where we came, and to my relief, all appears normal. The beautiful sunrise glistening on the rippling blue waves, gulls circling on the thermals, and pelicans are fishing. Other bird songs are dripping like jeweled droplets all around. Yet, all these folks appear oblivious to sights, smells and sounds all around them. Are all these folks unaware of the surrounding real world or is it distasteful causing the life in the screen to be more comfortable? I do not know, except to accept the old cliche “to each their own.”

During my youth before screens became so ubiquitous an old, philosophical sage warned that screens would become windows of reality to those who spend too much time looking through them. The human mind and eye would lose interest peering out of real windows. A few years ago I thought of him and his insight again while turkey hunting with a buddy. A blabbermouth gobbler was sounding off nonstop on his to our set up. As usual, the tom was coming into my calls from behind, but no problem, my buddy is sitting at the backside of the tree.

As the gobbles sent sparks of excitement deep into my hunting soul, surely a shot will ring out soon. The turkey was very close and moving around to my weak side, his head pulsing the colors of mating excitement. Still, no gunfire. What the heck, did my sidekick fall asleep, enjoying the moment or is he being generous, letting the shot come to me? OK, whatever I am ready. The strutter finally gets clear in front of my gun barrel. At the roar, in my peripheral vision, I see something odd flying in the air, and my fellow turkey hunter lets out a shriek. It turns out he had earbuds in while watching a turkey hunting video. He thought all the gobbling was from the video and never looked up from the screen. Viewing a hunting video while hunting!? As I have come to understand watching a phone has become a standard hunting procedure.

“To each their own…”

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.

Run’n’Gun or Sit’n’Wait: Why Not Both?

June 24, 2017 by Charlie 15 Comments

By Huntfishtrap

Most turkey hunters seem to fall into one of two camps – on one side you have the people who prefer to sit in one spot and wait for the turkeys to come to them, while on the other you have the folks who like to keep moving as much as possible. And both camps generally think their way is best. It’s kind of like politics, only (usually!) more polite. They each have their pros and cons, and you can be very successful using either strategy, but I prefer a more situational approach, where I let the needs of a specific hunt dictate what kind of tactics I use. I think the following story illustrates the benefits of this approach very well.

Going into our 2^nd shotgun season this past spring, my hopes were high, as I had roosted 3 birds on one of my favorite properties a few days before. I expected a relatively short hunt on opening day, and my expectations were met, although not quite in the way I envisioned. Despite picture-perfect weather that morning, there was very little gobbling on the roost anywhere within earshot, and none at all on the property I was hunting, nor on the neighboring one where I also had permission. I set up anyway, and stayed until 7 AM, but heard nothing close except for a few hen yelps. I knew there had to be gobblers around but was getting impatient, so decided to go elsewhere in search of more cooperative birds.

I drove to another property a couple of miles away from where I’ve often had good luck later in the morning. This is a small farm, only about 35 acres, but I’ve killed a number of gobblers there. They generally roost on the neighboring properties and congregate on this one after fly-down. I set up just inside the woods on the back side of a small cornfield and made a few series of yelps. After my 2^nd or 3^rd series, a gobbler answered me from the neighboring property to the north. The tom was about 300 yards away, so I decided to cut the distance between us as much as I could, and eased down over the crest of the hill on which I’d been sitting until I was about 75 yards from the property line. I don’t know if he spotted me moving, or just wasn’t that interested, but after the 2 initial gobbles, I never heard from him again. After a fairly dull half-hour, I decided to make a move and headed back up to the ridgetop where I’d started out. I walked to the end of the ridge, which overlooks a very large valley, and pulled out my loudest aluminum friction call. The first series of ear-splitting yelps brought a faint response from a distant gobbler way off down the valley, so I elected to drop down to the valley floor, even though I knew I couldn’t get very close because the property ends just past the base of the hill.

When I got to the bottom of the hill I called again, and the still-distant bird answered again, but this time another, a much closer tom gobbled as well. I quickly found a spot with decent visibility and hunkered down next to a tree. The gobbler answered my next series of calls enthusiastically, then went silent for a few minutes. Finally, he gobbled again, and I could tell he had closed the distance quite a bit, but was circling around me on the hillside above. He continued to gobble as he moved but didn’t deviate from his course, and I was unable to move because I knew he could see down into the valley from his position on the high ground. Eventually, he circled far enough around the shoulder of the bluff that I figured he couldn’t see my position anymore, so I grabbed my pack and gun and took off running around the base of the hill, trying to get ahead of the bird and cut him off. Running up the steep, 300-foot bluff nearly killed me, but I knew I had to beat him to the spot where I wanted to set up. Thankfully he kept gobbling every so often, so I could keep track of his position. I huffed and puffed my way to the top of the bluff about 100 yards in front of the gobbler, and just over the crest of the hill from him. I crawled up behind a large oak tree that offered good cover and scratched out a few soft yelps. He hammered right back, and I thought it would be over quickly. But even though he gobbled heartily every time I touched a call, he wouldn’t budge from what I now assumed to be his strut zone on the ridgetop. I knew I was between where he was and where he probably wanted to go, so I settled in to wait him out.

After a 20-25 minute stalemate, during which time he didn’t seem to move more than a few feet in any direction,

Wonderful Iowa Turkey

I suddenly saw a red head pop over the crest of the hill, peering down the slope in my direction. The head was quickly followed by the rest of the bird, as he came walking down the ridge toward me. I already had my gun up and resting on a fallen tree branch, so it was a simple matter to swing it over a few degrees and track him with the muzzle as he approached. After navigating a patch of thick saplings, he finally popped out into the open at a mere 20 yards and stopped. A trigger squeeze later, and my first turkey of the year was flopping his way down the hillside.

Given his behavior and the fact that it was relatively early in the spring when most older toms would still be flocked up with hens, I assumed I was dealing with a 2-year-old bird. But when I bent over and grabbed a leg to pick him up, I almost fell over in shock. He had perfectly matching 1 9/16” spurs,

Perfectly matching 1 9/16” spurs, both razor-sharp

both razor-sharp. He was otherwise relatively ordinary, weighing just under 24lbs, with a wispy 9” beard. But judging by the spur length, he was definitely an old turkey. That fact made the successful conclusion to the hunt even more rewarding.

Looking back on the hunt later, I realized I had utilized both patient and aggressive tactics to kill that bird, and most likely would not have been successful had I stuck with one or the other. It was a good example of why you should let the turkey’s behavior determine how you hunt, rather than sticking with a predetermined course of action. Planning has its place, but to be a consistently successful turkey hunter, you sometimes need to be able to change things up on the fly and adapt to the situation at hand.

After The Storm

June 17, 2017 by Charlie 6 Comments

by FirstBubba

From no bird since 2011 to the spring of 2015!
At least I’m not greeted by thunder and lightening this morning! Meant to be up by 5:00 AM. When my bleary eyes finally locate a clock, it’s 5:26 AM!
Coffee and dressed and I’m out the gate at 6:03 AM! Not bad for an old, fat cripple!
It’s 6:43 AM when I stop at the gate and it’s beginning to break day. Quite a difference from the deluge of two days ago! The air is still, quiet and nearly 60°. The sun promises a cloudless, bluebird sky! AWESOME!
Somewhere across the bottom, a gobble breaks the silence! I quickly gather my gear and head out across the still soggy pasture, birds gobbling from time to time. The crystal clear notes tell me they’re still on the roost.
I set the “deke” and make my spread. Then the “Gobble Fest” begins. I must be hearing 10 to 15 birds from three different directions.
Low lying fog spreads across the bottom. The fog is beautiful, and I take a few pictures. Two coyotes stop and check the hen decoy before moving along.
Muffled gobbles tell me birds are on the ground. Buffing the slate call, I throw out a “cut” or two. They’re greeted with gobbles. Yelps and purrs are more often cut off with gobbles than not!
Checking the camera, I see the batteries are getting low. Retrieving the four new batteries from my coat pocket, I pop the old batteries out and drop the new ones in. I replace the camera on its monopod and shove it into the soft ground and realize that two birds are almost to the pecan trees! One looks to be a very nice bird! Oh, well!
Checking back the way they came in, I see a big white head about 30 yards out.
What do I do now? The gun is resting on its tripod, probably 70° from where the bird is! I contemplate my next move.
I lift with my right hand on the wrist of the stock and slap the fore end with my left, lifting the gun out of its cradle.
Startled, the bird stares at me as I swing the shotgun into position and slap the trigger!
He’s mine!

Not as big a bird as the “Rain Storm” gobbler, but a VERY pretty bird! 16 pounds 3/4″ spurs 9″ beard

Wisconsin Turkey Season Winding Down

May 27, 2017 by Charlie 4 Comments

As this is written there are only three hunting days left to Wisconsin’s 2017 spring turkey season. For the most part, the toms have stopped gobbling to tip off their locations and they have started forming their summer time bachelor groups. This is the moment some hunters eagerly wait for because when the toms are properly motivated with gobbler talk, deep sounding clucks followed by a slow raspy yelp or two. Make sure it’s just one or two yelps clearly separated and not run together.

The added challenge much like in fall hunting is finding the turkeys. When turkeys form groups there will be more areas without and the other areas will have more birds.

After sleeping in until 5:00 a, sleep deprivation is taking its toll on me; a gobbler who has irritated me since early April by consistently strutting in the middle of a field I can’t hunt. Worse, no one else has hunted him either so all he does is strut at me nearly everytime I drive by. This morning he was in the middle of the dirt road strutting as beautiful as a peacock with the rising sun glinting off his feathers. I did feel a temptation to stop and shoot him or just run him over, but clearly, those thoughts were just symptoms of sleep deprivation, I just blew the horn instead. That tom tipped me off to his roost location as he flew off. I had a good feeling the next morning I’d get him. He was clearly callable onto some land I have permission to hunt by a farmer who likes to have a lot of turkeys removed from his land.

I continued on my way to check out a hillside pocket that is only reachable by boat and since the rivers were above flood stage the turkeys should be in the “pocket”. Sure enough, I settled in called with a few clucks, noticed a black stump that looked very much like a turkey staring at me, red-headed and all. Figured it was a stump with a cardinal sitting on it. There have been a lot of cardinals and scarlet tanagers this year causing excitement here and there. Lack of sleep does that to you sometimes, so I lowered my eyelids to check for leaks. When I opened them a few minutes later the black stump was gone; I clucked and there he was not quite 30 yards standing at attention in the wide open woods staring at the lump that was me. Fortunately, my gun sling is always hooked on my left knee holding the barrel level out front and this tom is standing right in front of the gun barrel. All I needed to do was raise it up and one tag for the last season was filled.

Tongue Teaser call brought em in again.

That left two tags in my pocket for Friday. The determination to bag that most irritating strutter in the county rose to an obsessive level. That is, until Friday morning, when I forced myself out of bed, shooting that poor turkey did not seem as important as it did yesterday.

At 6:10 am I found myself laying back in a grassy field wash using the folds of the field to hide me. Lying back when you need sleep is not conducive to remaining alert. However, the chain gobbling that answered my first tongue teaser yelp sure did get my full attention and when that yelp was followed up with some walking clucks and a single yelp to be answered by near constant incoming gobbling from two sides—sleep just slid way down the priority list.

During late seasons my Willow Ridge Tongue Teaser – Gobbler Pine Box is the call I turn to, Scott made this special for me to use in the fall for calling in gobblers. It works whenever, the need to make gobbler calls arises.

In about 20 minutes the five toms converged on my location, marching as if on a mission to either recruit the lonesome gobbler (me) or kick his butt. I do not which it was, for they did not get any time to explain. At mid-gobble my gun commanded silence from the first one at 15 yards. The other four turned around marching away single file when a single cluck stopped them and turned em around for the gun to silence the second one mid-gobble at 30 yds filling my last two tags for the final season.

Late season turkeys are challenging to find, but when you do it might be double the fun.

You’d think, the season would end there… Not in Wisconsin, there are still thousands of OTC tags left and two of those are now in my pocket. Heck, sleep is overrated, I have all summer to catch up on it.

Ending up Intoxicated on Wild Turkey in Colorado

May 1, 2017 by Charlie 8 Comments

It sounded almost like a breeze moving dead leaves on the tree branches, but I don’t remember there being any leaves on the early spring cottonwoods. As another wave of the fluttering sound reached my ears I realized the sound was not the trees or any leaves; it was a flock of turkeys rustling their feathers, and there must be a lot them to make that much noise at little after 4:00 am. A few minutes later the first yelps of the morning started. Apparently, Colorado turkeys wake up much earlier than those sleepy eastern birds in Wisconsin. Sure enough by 4:30 the first crescendo of gobbling cascaded down from their roosts, each like a wave crashing on a rocky beach. Each time the audio wave began it gained volume as if urging the sun to rise early. My shivering intensified, surprised I was that cold, then I became acutely aware it was maximum exhilaration that had no relationship to the temperature, this is what turkey nirvana is all about, like being drunk on wild turkey, the non-alcoholic kind.

Six years ago, on a now defunct turkey forum, Treerooster and charlie elk recognized each other as fellow turkey nerds. We discussed things like the length of the turkey’s memory, how they find food, the effect of ground temperatures on behavior, what the snood means, why two- dimensional sight works, techniques for tree-roosting all night with turkeys; OK you get the idea. Fortunately, the forum had a private message option allowing treerooster and charlie could make hunting plans. And when charlie got enough preference points to draw a spring license he was on his way to treerooster’s hunting turf in Colorado.

Our optimism was high we waded across the dark river back to the truck. We had roosted at least 15 toms and jakes on this eve of Colorado’s opening day of spring wild turkey season. Wake up was scheduled for 3:00 am to make sure we could take our place among the roosted turkeys well before sunrise. A treerooster nugget of wisdom – “Turkey hunting extends your life, each day of turkey hunting is the equivalent of 2 or 3 days of “normal life.”

There’s something about 15 or so roosted gobblers that make the lack of sleep and morning grogginess recede into the background of one’s conscious mind. Gazing up at a half dozen roosted turkeys highlighted against the moonlit sky I wanted to give treerooster

treerooster sometimes likes to spend the night in the roost trees.

two thumbs up for his accuracy last night casting the correct GPS coordinates. Clearly, he has done this many times, and that is why I told him that I would hunt the way he hunts. And he is a one of a kind tree-roosting aficionado, sometimes he actually sleeps in the tree with the turkeys; Prefers to setup, not 200, 100 or even 50 yards from roosted birds, rather, right in the middle of them.

There was a certain surrealness sitting under roosted turkeys expecting the morning light to brighten and instead, it became quite dark after the moon set as we waited for the first glimmers of sunrise. However, the turkeys had no inhibition and continued to call and gobble to each other. They did not seem to care there were coyotes on the prowl, raccoons screaming out their mating calls; every sound caused all those anxious roosted birds to turn up the volume. Treerooster was supposed to do the calling but any calls we’d have made would be the equivalent of spitting in the ocean due to all the actual turkey noise.

Is there such a thing as sonic boom gobbling? Had anyone asked me this question before my first-morning hunt in Colorado I would have thought them crazy. But, not now. A couple of mallards came flying through the trees, and one of them quacked, this caused such loud gobbling that it caused the ducks so much turbulence they almost fell out of the air. Laughter would have erupted from me had my ears not hurt so bad, never before did I wish to turn down or remove my hearing aids on a turkey hunt. What had been 15 roosted gobblers was now apparently 50-70 raucous male turkeys surrounding us on all sides. In almost 40 years of turkey hunting, I have never experienced anything like this.

When the hens snuck up from behind on my five, I became concerned if I didn’t get a tom out this huge group I’d have egg on my face and some explaining to do. Hen turkeys are notorious for messing up a well-planned gobbler killing strategy. One of those hens got so close she could have rested her beak on my shoulder when she yelped. I swear I felt her spittle on my cheek. If she putted, no one here noticed and none of the turkeys noticed the deer that almost tripped over my boot. Thankfully, the deer did not notice me, perhaps due to all the ruckus from turkeys.

Treerooster and charlie with Colorado opening day Rio wild turkey

More gobblers flew down; it was quickly getting crowded here on the ground. Finally, the one who had strutted back and forth from one end of the limb to the other launched and sailed in. Lesser turkeys scrambled out of his way, for a brief moment he disappeared in the dawn’s light. As his head came around the other side of some wispy brush I made a quick check for any other turkeys in the area, the roar of the Benelli caused a literal explosion of turkey wings clawing at the air and every sound these large birds can make filled the woods and the surrounding grassland.

In almost forty years of turkey hunting, I’d never experienced anything like that Colorado morning. We ended the

charlie carrying Rio turkey from the kill site.

hunt intoxicated by overdosing on a whole lot of wild turkey. The non-alcoholic kind.

Hip boots are required for access.

Crossing the river with the turkey while using a walking stick to stabilize footing on the shifting sands.

Pause to soak in the hunt and wide open scenery.

Treerooster’s very comfortable camp. Where charlie managed to arrive the day before right after treerooster got is setup.

Hey treerooster, thanks for the best of the best turkey hunting experiences.

First Canadian Who Turkey Hunted in Wisconsin

May 27, 2016 by Charlie 13 Comments

First Canadian Hunts Turkeys in Wisconsin

The gobbler raucously ushered in the sunrise causing the Albertan hunter to shiver. It had to be excitement because it’s a lot cooler from where he came, so considering this was the first turkey he’d ever heard no turkey hunter would think there any other reason for the quaking.

All the way from Edmonton, Alberta, Canada; Kody came to West Central Wisconsin for his first-ever wild turkey hunt. To my knowledge and that of the turkey Maven within the Wisconsin DNR Kody is the first Canadian to attempt the spring turkey hunt here.

Kody and Charlie met each other seven years ago as contributors on the Outdoor Life forum. At first, they exchanged good-natured jabs and humored filled stories then moved on to email exchanges and phone conversations. There are those who think it odd or even a bit dangerous to hunt with someone you only know via “technological conversations.” However, I have not found that to be the case rather when someone is or thinks they are anonymous the real person is on display for all to see. Whereas, in person, we are all more careful to maintain the veneer of respectability.

The adventure started as soon as Kody arrived to pick up his rental car, incredibly customs was not a problem rather as events were to unfold it was the map provided by the car rental folks. Since Canadian I phones don’t work in the states, Kody would need to rely on this sketchy map, in the dark as he attempts to navigate to Charlie elk’s humble, very rural adobe.

Kody stops at the local BP station in “town” to inquire with the young lady minding the store if she could fix his Apple phone. Older folks always think any young person can fix anything tech, but in this case, the poor lass was helpless to help, so she offers the use of the station’s landline to call me. After giving Kody detailed direction a feeling of what could go wrong stuck with me. In hindsight, I realized he would likely miss seeing the sign for my road and drive to who knows where. Sure enough, he has Kim call me from her house in a neighboring micro-village. After I convinced Kim this was not a con, Kody really was from Alberta here to turkey hunt she agreed to keep him there so that I could personally retrieve him.

Finally, Kody and I are shaking hands slapping each other on the back; that is after I pull Kody away from showing Kim all his grandkid and horse pictures. Later as we sit in the trophy room drinking introductory adult beverages, Kody remarks about how friendly everyone is so late at night. Of course, that is because Wisconsinites are the most heavily armed folks in the nation, so everyone has learned to be very polite. “Even more than Texas?” Yes indeed, Wisconsin has more CC permits issued per capita than anywhere else and a strong castle doctrine to boot. At 9:30p we’d roll up the sidewalks, that is if there were sidewalks. “She might have had a gun under her table as we talked…” Very likely so Kody.

Knowing Kody was coming to hunt I had tried to avoid killing the gobbler at the start of this post. He is one of those birds that roosts in the same general area every morning gobbling his head off; this is not to say he would have given me a chance to kill him if I’d tried. Rather it’s the temptation to a veteran turkey hunter is hard to resist. Kody had never hunted or for that matter seen a wild turkey. Whenever I mentor a new hunter, right or wrong, I try to arrange a full flavored hunt; there is so much more to a turkey hunt than a kill. Now we are about 50 yards from the roost tree of a very robust gobbler and his henchmen who are ushering in the morning with all the fanfare any veteran turkey hunter appreciates; we are what is called “tight” on these birds. Getting in this close was not hard because Kody is a veteran of many other species, so he is nimble and quiet while on the move. There is nothing between these birds and us, turkey hunting mornings like this are intoxicating. For a good 45 minutes as the sun starts to crest the ridgetop, I’m starting to think a turkey for the new guy on the first morning is a real possibility. As happens more often than not the turkeys begin pitching off roost flying to wherever they hear hens. The real hens had beaten my calling.

Time to move, we started trolling our way through the valley and busted a few turkeys still on roost an hour and a half after sunrise. We spent the morning on setups working some birds here and there. At one point as I led the way up a field crest, a couple of gobblers were strutting within gun range. I immediately dropped back below and motioned Kody to sneak up; he got a good look at those birds as they impressed him with their getaway speed. Turkeys run 35 mph, fly 50 mph, see like us with eight-power binoculars, and they can see 358 degrees around. The only chink in that defense is their sight is only two-dimensional requiring them to juke their heads constantly to focus.

Kody checking the most visited area tourist attraction.

After lunch, a trip to see some tourist attraction and the gun range were in order so that Kody could shoot my Benelli M2. He shot it well, and he was deeply impressed with the tight pattern produced by the Carlson turkey choke with Fiocchi nickel plated lead shells. Kody is a guy who relishes new, different things. The lush green woodland with all the sounds of life. Northern forests are generally very hard to move through and devoid of all the noisy small critters operating on the

Kody is reading the history posters.

background canvas, some locals take it all for granted. Kody noticed it all, asked lots of questions making him a real delight to hunt alongside.

We set up in the afternoon on a wooded point that extended into a corn field we called, snoozed and called some more. Of course, all turkey hunters know what happen when we stood up to leave. That’s right, three turkeys crested the horizon and busted us. Another 5-10 minutes of sitting still while staying awake may have produced a shot.

The next morning we had to set up further away from the gobbling birds due to thin aerial cover and they had moved their roosts to the tree we had called from yesterday. A rushed or forced set up rarely makes an ideal situation but once you are there with the gobblers right uphill, few choices remain. Besides turkey hunters are almost always optimistic, that is until 20/20 hindsight kicks in as the birds leave going straight up the hill away from you.

As we snuck up that hill, Kody whispers “this is real hunting, I understand why turkey hunters are so addicted.” Just then it happened again, three gobblers in strut right in front me. In my mind, Kody came

all the from Alberta, so any possible shot is his to take. I back away and down for Kody to get into position, again they vanish in a blur of feathers. Many times disturbed turkeys are easier to call in, with Kody in the lead we move up the rest of the way to the previous day’s afternoon setup.

Within ten minutes of settling in and laying out a set of kee kees and lost yelps, a very nice gobbler comes running towards us. A stern cluck stops him to turn and look at the decoy; he takes a couple of steps towards us then abruptly stops with neck extended straight up. Kody’s heart must have been beating overtime because his shoulders, head, and gun were bobbing like a cork in some big waves. The tom stood there stationary for quite some time studying the situation; this was the first time I ever wished for a turkey gun capable of shooting 60 yards. It was tempting to have Kody take the shot and hope for the golden BB, but that is not the way I hunt and happily not the way Kody hunts. The gobbler sauntered off in spite of my purr-clucking pleas to come 15 yards closer.

During the close encounter, my phone kept vibrating this is why I hate cell phones while hunting. However, I have continually carried it afield just in case mrs. elk needed me back quickly. This time, it was not mrs. elk rather it was Shane who had wounded a tom at 8 am inquiring if I would drive up with Vic the turkey dog to help him recover the bird. Vic and I have provided many successful turkey recoveries to bowhunters. My only hesitation, this time, was one a turkey was on the way in and two Kody only had 2 and half days to hunt so I did not want to burn up any of his hunting time. When asked Kody did not hesitate to agree to help find that bird, besides, we were tired of sitting in the same place watching a dirt field without any turkey life in visual range.

When we met up with Shane Simpson, founder of Calling all Turkeys and Joe Slaton—Linden, CA 2015 NWTF national gobbler calling champion. Kody was duly impressed with my pro turkey connections. Shane brought us up to speed with the day’s earlier event by explaining and show video of the shot. The gobbler being hit hard probably had not gone too far after reaching the woods. Took Vic to the last blood, he immediately scented and went after it. The cover was thorny and think with several fallen trees. As I typical of turkeys under stress they usually hunker down tight in stuff like this and rely on staying still to keep them out of sight. Vic’s tracker showed me that he went directly to what turned out to be the turkey squatting against one of those fallen tree tops. However, Vic is a pointer, and I could not lay eyes on him nor could he see me due to the thick cover, so he came back. I made what I consider an operator error; Vic pointed that tree with me standing there and the turkey hiding on the other side. We walked around all through all the brush and brush piles; a few rodents darted about so I thought Vic may have just pointed them. The offseason is hard on Vic as I train him not to grab turkeys he finds spring and summer, come the fall season I train him back to holding turkeys. When Joe spotted the turkey, I repeated the mantra to myself “trust your dog,” I knew better but failed my dog. Gosh, darn it. I’ll do better next time Vic.

Those few days flew by and too soon it was Monday noon with Kody thinking more about how to find his way back to the airport and less concerned about the gobbler sounding off on the opposite hilltop. As with all the good times in life they eventually they end, it’s one of those bitter-sweet things.

Kody is a great hunting partner and guest. He is a good hunter who is polite, considerate and came bearing healing flowers for mrs elk. He took the time to visit with her to bring extra joy to her day. We are both grateful he chose to visit us.

Sunrise Wild Turkey

February 13, 2015 by Charlie 6 Comments

Moon giving way to morning.

Every hunt has a certain ebb and flow, plans are made, altered and when it comes to wild turkey hunting altered again. Turkeys are random birds being there one day and somewhere else the next. A turkey hunter is never sure… this was the case last night when a good buddy called to tell me about a gobbler he heard while fishing on the Mississippi that afternoon. When a turkey’s location is offered during the last week of Wisconsin’s turkey season you’d be wise to pay attention and change plans accordingly. An active late afternoon gobbler is likely going to roost nearby.

My buddy got fed up with Wisconsin’s licensing scheme and quit turkey hunting a few years ago. He has no desire to turkey hunt after the first 2 weeks for which, he was never drawn or he’d forget to apply. A late season turkey tag would just interfere with his beloved fishing.

During the fall this buddy loves to bow hunt deer so I had given him GPS coordinates to a particular spot where I figured he’d have a chance at a dandy buck. While fall turkey hunting Vic the Turkey Dog and I would see this 12 pointer, after just a couple of hours my buddy killed his first trophy class buck.

He felt he owed me something in return and knew I would be interested in his turkey report including the coordinates. Besides he figured I was the only one crazy enough to climb that huge bluff in the dark from river level.

My hunting plan ebbed and at 4:40 AM: I found myself at the base of a 500 foot bluff thinking just maybe my friend was playing with me. There was no turkey talk going on, a beautiful but silent morning in an area my boots had never before trod. Up the old logging path, hooting and cawing. At the top- the woods was open, 5:45 not so much as a cluck.

To catch my breath and figure at things I setup on the most comfortable tree of the season, the sun just a red beam peeking over the horizon at my back. Fighting off a bout of tree trunk narcolepsy I made my first calls quiet yelps, rising to cackles and into fighting purrs. Nothing. Let out a series of lost yelps and kee-kees. Quiet.

The most intense sunrise ever?

About 6:10 burning red light reflected off the morning clouds, the sunrise light is filtering and dancing in all around throughout the woods, magically gorgeous and I know not from where he came, the most outrageously beautiful strutting turkey I have ever seen; bathed in the glow of sunrise. His feathers caught and shimmered those colored rays of light back at me as he pirouetted on his toes in a manner that would make any ballerina jealous. I gazed intently over the barrel, usually a natural thing at times like this, but it seemed so out of place on this morning…..

There are times when the quarry has conducted itself admirably and you’ve hunted well. Isn’t that reward enough?

A Thought about Learning Turkey

September 29, 2014 by Charlie Leave a Comment

Learning about turkey hunting is not to know everything about turkeys – It’s to enjoy life more.

This popped into my head while turkey dogging the other day. For those who don’t know about turkey dogging- that is when you hunt with a dog to flush and scatter flocks of turkeys in order to call them back. Anyway, I read and talk a lot about turkeys and their hunting so I’m not sure if this is something I read somewhere or an original random thought that flowed in from the spirit of the hunt. If someone knows who wrote or said that quote please leave a comment to credit them. Good hunting.

Take your dog turkey hunting. You’ll both be the better for it.

Tough to Hunt Gobbler Led to Ghillie Suited Grass Setup

June 1, 2014 by Charlie 2 Comments

You all know this gobbler or at least have met/heard him. He sits on his roost proclaiming himself king for the day. He wants all the other toms to back off and leave all the hens to him. Because he is stuck on gobble every hunter in the areas thinks Mr. Loud Mouth will be an easy mark only to find out this bird is king of hunter avoiding strategies. My advice is when you meet this turkey find another to hunt or you’ll find yourself addicted to killing this particular bird. You find yourself getting up earlier and earlier in order to head him off while each time for some not so obvious reason or maybe an obvious reason you can’t figure out due to the additional sleep deprivation.

Ghillie Suit hides the human form. Make sure it is made of natural materials they reflect less light.

Anyone who knows me, knows I can’t bring myself to give up, so my sound advice above goes right over my own head which leads me to unusual or some would say desperate tactics. Such is the case in the following tale of the grass setup.

This turkey out gobbled every turkey in the valley making him impossible to ignore. He seemed to have a easy pattern and at first glance I thought he would be wearing my tag in short order. However, his habit of leaving the roost and walking to the upper field ended the first time I setup there; he walked down hill. Must have seen or heard me, odd all the other turkeys flew or walked into the upper field. Next morning I arrived earlier and snuck into woods middle ridge, it stayed quiet except for the wing beats landing in the field. Then after my 2+ hour wait he started gobbling at 6 O’clock and stayed on roost until 7 before dropping the ground and sprinting up into the field gobbling all the way. His zigging and my zagging went on for days.

Then I remembered my grass ghillie suit. A disappointing apparel purchase mainly because it was very hard to move in. It picked up every sticker and snagged on every piece of vegetation. I realized that would not matter since the field was freshly planted and the 12 inch high grass strip would provide sufficient cover to lay in. There was one particular fold in that field where the turkeys moved through out of range of any edge setup. With only 2 days left to fill 2 tags I smirked at how well this idea would work.

View the approaching turkeys see.

Morning dawned on me lying on dew coated grass wearing an artificial grass boonie hat dressed in a grass suit with gun resting along my right side. Sure glad only turkeys are out in those early mornings. Someone from normal society might try and lockup a camo painted face grass clad hunter. Some things are just too hard to explain to those outside the know.

The target turkey sounded off and stayed on roost while a hen moseyed along staring at me. I had called on a tongue teaser call, she came to point of call. She purred and stared looking for the turkey she had heard. A hunting buddy had told me a story of how he moved while hiding in some logs during a fall hunt thinking he messed up his chances when all of sudden the flock of turkeys came over to investigate. He figured they were expecting to see movement and his movement looked turkey like to them, he shot his bird. So I moved my head and the hen immediately came within a few feet of me continuing to purr. The two us played this game for at least a half hour.

The turkeys were within and never showed any concern as I laid still watching.

The turkeys were within feet and never showed any concern as I laid still watching. Bagged a second gobbler from this setup the next day.

He appeared without warning, I had been distracted playing with the hen and not paying attention of the gobbler’s approach. The gobbler stood at attention staring at me and the fading away hen, she moved up the field past my head out of sight.

The gobbler moved to a 45 angle a few feet from my feet looking down at me. My plan, as had happened on so many other open area setups was to wait for him to strut, pirouette until his fan blocked his vision, rise up with gun pointed and shoot as he came out of strut. Sounds easy, that is, until the gobbler is not in the mood to strut and looking down on you. Come on, there is a hen please strut your stuff….

As the gobbler resumed stiff legging closer it was very apparent he was not going to strut. My fingers found the shotgun’s grip, fumbled the safety off as the barrel aligned with his beak. Pink mist filled the air with the headless turkey flopping on his back, he felt no pain.

Second Turkey using Grass Ghillie Suit.

History of Ghillie Suits

The word ghillie is an old Scottish term for a special kind of game warden. Ghillies were tasked with protecting the game on their Lord’s lands from poachers. From time to time, the ghillies would stalk the game by hiding in the grass and lying perfectly still. They would wait for unsuspecting deer to amble by and then leap out and grab it with their bare hands. Ghillies would then haul their prize back to the keep so the Lord could shoot it in the castle courtyard in a “mock hunt.”

Grass setups work to get tough gobblers in close.

Grass Ghillie Suit setups work to get tough gobblers in close.

Dart Board Turkey

May 27, 2013 by Charlie Leave a Comment

Every year I throw a dart at a map to find a new place to hunt.

Due to all those unexpected things that come up in life Wisconsin’s 3rd spring turkey season did not start off as planned. I could not get out hunting during the morning, you all know how that feels when you have active tags in your pocket and the morning dawns with beautiful hunting weather.

Come noontime the distracting tasks were completed and I was finally free so I decided to head over to unit 3 to a place I had never before hunted. I like to hunt a new area every year without any extensive map studies or scouting. The area was picked by hanging a county forest map on a dart board and where the dart hit I headed to.

Hunting a different area completely cold is something I do at least once each spring and several times every fall. To me it is one of the ultimate challenges of turkey hunting and an excellent way to hunt without any preconceived notions about the lay of the land or the turkeys inhabiting said land. I find this concept keeps my skillset sharp and opens up more “known” hunting acres for me to consider each season. Without pre-scouting you must quickly get attuned to the new area by paying close attention to all the small details of sound and sign. So it was I found myself standing at the end of a county forest spur at 2:00 pm.

After enduring the horrible weather of season 1 this gorgeous day lent itself well to a beautiful walk in woods. Other than the sounds of the usual cardinals, orioles, Canadian sparrows and other assorted song birds punctuated by the occasional goose honk; it was a relaxing walk in the woods. That is, until 6p when the tell tale single yap of a gobbler pierced through my revelry to swiftly draw my attention to task at hand.

The woods was full 50 year old straight manicured oaks dotted with red pines making the selection of a doable setup quick and easy. I’d love to report a long battle of heavy back and forth calling and maneuvering but that would be an exaggeration. From my selected tree I made 2 yelps on a slate pot, heard a half gobble much like a jake and son of gun there he was standing at 20 yards.

But it was quite clear he was no jake perhaps just an experienced gobbler who knew he should not sound off too loudly but ended up vulnerable to a dart board.

Double Beard Lightweight Turkey

April 10, 2013 by Charlie Leave a Comment

On April 10th the opening day of Wisconsin’s 2013 wild turkey season I awoke to find the temperature at 21 degrees, 16 mph wind, snow covering the ground and sideways freezing whatever. Not exactly the kind of weather spring turkey hunters dream about.

So I did what any self respecting old turkey hunter does on days like this-

Enjoyed a pot of coffee
Chatted with Mrs. elk
Puttered around with stuff until I figured the turkeys were well off the roost.

My Reasoning– When there is no foliage the woods is naked and as was the case this morning it’s very easy to see anything against the white landscape. Roosted turkeys with their 8 power binocular eyesight would have spotted me in an instant. Best to wait until they are down on more equal footing.

Since I had no idea where exactly any turkeys were I setup cold on a windswept point over looking a 2 mile valley. I chose my Willow Ridge Death Wish pot and peg call to start and after 2 sets of calling to my utter surprise a group of gobblers across the valley enthusiastically chain gabbled back. I called more aggressively and they moved along their side until they were almost straight across from me. The sound of large wings lifting off brought a spark of hope as they pitched off and sailed to the bottom of the valley on my side. My plaintiff calling brought no more responses for an hour. I was iced over and soaked obviously under dressed for these spring time conditions.

My Reasoning– When the turkeys are not gobbling you must try and make things happen. I frequently setup on points where the sound of my calling will travel a great distance and in return I’ll have a better chance of hearing turkeys answer. Listen for turkey vocalizations other than gobbles. Toms will not always gobble an answer, many times they cluck or yelp back.

Back at the hut the hot soup refurbished my resolve…

Changing into more and dry snow camo I stuffed the snow net in my vest and headed down and circled around where I thought I had last seen the birds. Willow’s Death Wish call sang out and was promptly greeted by thunderous gobbles below and out of sight. I moved down the tight logging trail which offered no good setup locations. So I setup in a not so good spot, if the turkeys came they would be nearly in my lap with only the snow net between us.

Picture taken from the turkey’s point of view.

The first set of 3 came in, jakes, I thought about taking 1 to fill my tag because the forecast was full of bad weather for the next several days. There is no dishonor shooting a jake but I didn’t want my first turkey hunt of the year over so quickly. Instead of shooting I waved my gun barrel to scatter them out of the way. I was convinced a long beard lurked behind. The jakes flew up into the trees around me and they were worked into a frenzy; started loud angry purrs, clucks and putts. I yelped loudly back at them, one of the treed jakes caught my moment and he took to flight, in the same moment a thunderous gobble on the hill above snapped my head around. Yeah, I know, couldn’t help it, he startled me with his feathers rattling at the tail of each gobble. In spite of him obviously being in range, incredibly I couldn’t see him on that brush choked snowy hillside.

My Reasoning– In a tight spot like this the jakes needed to be cleared off the trail to make way for sir gobbler. If a gobbler is out numbered by jakes he rarely pushes his way in rather he finds another place. Since these turkeys were challenging each other I changed my calling accordingly.

More aggressive gravelly yelps from me; I don’t know how he got to standing on the trail but there he was gobbling hard at 16 feet with only the snow net separating us. In my early days of turkey hunting the turkey had the advantage during a stand off like this. Not so any more; as you can see he did not win the race.

An unusually small turkey considering he sports a double beard.

Nice double beard, 1/2″ blunt spurs and weighed only 14 lb. 12oz. I wonder if all the turkeys are going be small bodied this year? Aw, who cares, it’s all fun.

Turkey Call with Pen Barrel

June 4, 2012 by Charlie 1 Comment

Turkeys can be called in with a wide variety of things, even your common ink pen.

Turkeys can be called in with a wide variety of calling implements. From all types of friction calls like box and pot calls to wind calls such as trumpets, wing-bones and yes even a common everyday ink pen. So if you forget your calls as I did one day—–
More accurately I did not forget my calls so to speak; as I was on my way out to hunt something else. There was a group of toms in a field I had permission to hunt. Then I discovered the box call usually kept in glove box was missing, there was the pen. I got out rushed the toms to break em up, only one peeled off a different direction from the rest. I set up in a hurry wearing a blue and black plaid flannel

Smile the Gods did, the gobbler sported three beards

shirt, smeared a bit of dirt on my face, the shotgun was mod choke loaded with #6 Fiochhi pheasant and sometimes as in this case the turkey gods of the hunt smile on you.

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Post Season Melancholy

March 10, 2012 by Charlie Leave a Comment

Are these turkeys laughing or snickering?

Postseason melancholy has set in, and it is never too early to start obsessing about the next hunt. Wisconsin was kind enough to provide me with 6 in state tags this year. The 6th season has been my jinx season, or maybe I should refer to it as the turkey jester season. I had been doing the Snoopy dance each previous seasons with a gobbler at my feet and the intense feeling of invincibility coursing through my veins. With two 6th season tags in my pocket, this would be the year of 6th season gobblers. Of course, that was the invincible thought going into the season. Reality soon set in; spring growth from 5th to 6th season was shocking to behold — areas where you could see last week – no longer so. Forcing me to set up on a field edge, I could see here that is as long as the expected gobbler entered the field but noooo! He the Gobbler started spitting and drumming behind me so close I swear I can feel his exhale on my neck. No see, no shoot. This is repeated time and again all season. The memory highlight occurred on May 23 I found a “loud mouth” gobbler at 5:30 am and worked him non stop until 4:30 pm suffering cramped seriously puckered wing bone lips and a severe case of leg cramp in my right hand. Suddenly the gobbling feathered submarine went “up periscope” in range, in front of my bead. His neck and head were all black with only a red skull cap on top. I hesitated to confirm the identity of the target. “Down Periscope” and back to loud mouth gobbling for another hour without an opportunity repeat. It is just amazing how my “can we have a replay” look to the sky never helps get that replay. The next weekend with no open season, in a field where I can hunt, a gobbler lights up at 9 am and gobbles over the next 2 hours. Not sure if he was laughing at me or frustrated by lack of hen interest. It was a great season filled 4 out of 6 tags. The remaining tags were not half bad as a condiment on a grilled Greek turkey burger.

Vic’s First Turkey

September 20, 2011 by Charlie 6 Comments

Turkey Dog Success

Sounds of the fall hunting season; Vic’s paw falls in fallen leaves, alarm putts, large wings clawing for air causing thunderous wing beats as two toms soar over my head from the ridge above. I stop and listen hoping; yes another putt and wings moving in the opposite direction, show time for the caller- that would be me.

Vic trots into sight panting hard. For a 9-month-old pup, he sure puts his heart into the hunt. The ridge is mostly park-like, with acorns strewn about and squirrels scurrying to put up the winter stores. Quite a distraction for my pup but his training focused on turkeys all summer so when he found the toms the squirrels won their reprieve.

We set up against an inviting oak with Vic tired and for the moment content to drink some water and lay on my left side. He barely stirs when I let out the first series of course yelps followed by purrs and angry clucks. The last call from my slate is cut off by the lost tom who is answering with excited yelps and booming gobbles. Game on! My wingbone answers with the bonk sound similar to that of a steel barrel or bucket makes with change in temperature. Don’t ask me why gobblers come to this sound no one has explained it to me why nor have I figured it out, it just works and this tom is no exception, he is on his way coming in quick. Vic goes into his rigid vizsla point directly at the incoming turkey while lying beside me. This is his first real setup I hope he holds long enough for the shot. His leash begins to pull under my rear; my hand touches his collar to reassure him all is well. His excitement travels up my arm like electric bugs. The turkey is 20 yards juking its head to the beat of some music only he knows. The pressure is on, don’t whiff the shot its Vic’s first.

There is comic style of movement at the base of this oak. The leash is sliding free, the shotgun is in motion my left hand has gripped the forearm. One eye is on Vic as he rises for a closer view the experienced turkey realizes his mistake as he hits full escape stride, Vic’s leash is free of me as he coils for the spring, I see he is in the safe zone in my peripheral as the bead appears under the beak, my finger compresses the trigger rolling the turkey into a ball of feathers. Vic at half way stops abruptly snapping his head at me and back at the now still turkey it is as if his eyes are saying “what the heck! That never happened in practice” and then he is on the bird relishing the pungent smell of fresh turkey.

Vic admiring his first wild turkey and it is a nice gobbler