Showing posts with label listening. Show all posts
Showing posts with label listening. Show all posts

Wednesday, April 13, 2011

Turkey Hunting


What does turkey hunting mean to me? It can be a rather difficult question to answer, but for many spring hunters, it means shooting a gobbler.

Well, that can be more easily said than done. During the spring season, only gobblers can be killed and often they are with hens. Those drab-looking hen-birds are notoriously wary, and are every bit as alert as an old whitetail doe.

There are many things that attract sportsmen to this past-time. It is, in fact, the only spring hunting season. With the opener of the first gobbler season on April 18, many camouflaged hunters will be afield.

Turkey hunting is a way of life for many spring hunters.


The rules are the same for everyone, and are detailed in the 2011 Michigan Spring Turkey Hunting Guide It’s important that all sportsmen hunt in the specific area they chose for a spring turkey hunt. Hunting times are from 30 minutes before sun-up to 30 minutes before sundown. The limit is one bearded bird, and note that some hens may have a visible beard.

I’ve seen some of the decoys available that can move by pulling a string or with the aid of battery power. Only wind movement is legal when turkey hunting. No electronic calls may be used to replicate the sounds that real turkeys make.

It is illegal to shoot turkeys roosted in a tree. It also is illegal to use or carry bird shot larger than a No. 4 shot. The most common sizes are No. 4, 5 and 6. shot. It also is legal to hunt wild turkeys with a bow, and hunting with bow-arrow from an elevated position is legal.

Scouting for birds is encouraged before the season opens, but hunters also are encouraged to leave their turkey calls home while scouting. Do not call during the scouting season, and I consider scouting by car as the least invasive method. Drive slowly, look for birds, note the time of day, and knowing the time can be useful. It possible, locate a gobbler (often with hens) just before they fly up to roost, and return to that area long before dawn. Don’t shine lights or talk, and don’t call to the roosted birds before shooting time begins.

Absolute quietness and stillness are two keywords to remember. Find a comfortable place to sit, and park yourself behind a tree as wide as your shoulders. Whenever possible, never get into a calling match with other hunters. It is a way to be accidentally shot by someone else. If you feel you are verbally dueling with another hunter, give up and leave without moving in the direction of the other hunter.

Leave calls at home if you are not confident. Use a hen turkey decoy.


If you lack experience or skill at calling, keep turkey calls in your pocket or at home, and rely on a turkey decoy. Set it up about 25-30 yards away, and if using a hen and gobbler decoy, place the gobbler fake near you so an approaching bird must pass in front of you to get to the decoy.

Turkey hunting requires a number of outdoor skills: woodsmanship, sense of direction, being able to gauge distance, good hearing, learning to sit still, being able to shoot straight, and much more. Most important of all is to learn how to sit without moving.

The challenges of being successful are many, and the odds in favor of success are lower than the odds of failing. Murphy’s Law states that “if anything can go wrong, it will.” Turkeys have added their stamp of approval to that known rule, and have gone on to establish countless other  ways they can use to further confuse hunters into making stupid mistakes.

There are many good things in favor of taking up turkey hunting. It occurs in the spring when no other hunting takes place. Sportsmen can find wild turkeys throughout most of the state, but rules apply when application is made for a spring turkey license. One must choose which hunting seasons they wish to be considered for, but the first hunt tags for most areas are difficult to draw. Choose an area you know well.

Wild turkeys are big birds and certainly can be easily seen. On most occasions, however, they are accomplished at quiet travel, remaining out of sight if they sense danger, and because they are big, the human brain seems to tell us the bird is closer than he really is. So, we miss.

I have literally hundreds of turkey calls. Most are diaphragm calls, but I also own scads of box calls, push-pull calls, a fairly large number of  pot calls with surfaces of aluminum, crystal, glass and slate. We should carry only those calls that we use most often, but a niggling little doubt causes us to second-guess ourselves, and that leads to more calls than we need. The result is we tend to lose calls, in one way or another, and those lost always seem to be our favorites.

Two or three turkey decoys are plenty. One hen decoy can do the job.


At most, I carry three decoys -- a jake and two hen decoys. Some folks I know may carry a half-dozen decoys, and putting out that many usually takes longer in the dark than we plan for, and it’s easy to make too much noise. Two or three decoys are plenty, and a single hen decoy can work on most gobblers.

We can take savage delight in being afield on a pitch-black morning, and get to watch nature come alive. The tweetie birds call at sunrise  as they begin to move around, and we’re often treated to deer sightings. Occasionally a late-hunting owl will be seen.

It’s the sights and sounds of dawn that invigorate my soul. It’s watching the rising sun give off shafts of brilliant yellow, orange and reds, and then a black cloud can be seen as it changes from black to a deep and vibrant purple. The sounds of a crow, an owl hooting, or a fence gate squeaking, can make gobblers rattle the woods with their roaring gobbles. Hens often call softly, but can start badmouthing and trash talking a gobbler for no apparent reason.

Turkey gobbles, whether near or far, never fail to stir my blood. In my mind’s eye, I see a gobbler with a white head, strutting around trying to impress the hen. We have our decoys out and well placed, and our calls, and we begin calling. The gobbler answers, and if things are meant to be, the longbeard will begin strutting in your direction.

The hunt is far more important than the kill.


We look forward to it, and if all goes right, will soon see a snowball-white head bobbing through the woods. Then we see the bird displaying, and our heart beat is like a triphammer, pounding in our chest and we can hear the blood pulsing in our ears. We may start sucking air, hyperventilating and often wonder why the bird can’t hear it. Closer and closer the bird comes, and then, there the gobbler is with his head held high as he looks for the hen.

As we place our shotgun sight where his head and neck join, a sudden thought goes through our head and we realize we’ve done everything right to reach this point in time. We also realize that there is so much more to turkey hunting than pulling the trigger.

Shooting a gobbler is anticlimactic. It’s only the icing on a turkey hunter’s cake. The actual hunt, everything that leads up to the shot, is the real thing and is why we hunt these birds.

Try not to confuse the issues and believe a dead bird is the sole reason for hunting. Do that, and forget what went before, and turkey hunting will soon lose its charm.

Friday, March 12, 2010

Spring has sprung and some gobblers are calling

A new metal roof was installed on our roof a few years ago. I was outside yesterday before last night's heavy rain, looking up at what little snow that remained, and watched the last of it come down.

Mind you, I understand fishing and hunting, but the mechanics of metal roofs isn't in my bag of tricks. I was standing there, looking up,  and heard a hen turkey nearby cut loose. She sounded as if she was scolding a gobbler that may have been pestering her.

There was a soft rumble, and about 10 pounds of snow landed out in front of my somewhat foolish head. Thankfully, the snow was loose and not loaded with ice as it was several days ago.

There is, I suspect, a short period of education about metal roofs as the thought dawned me. I'm not the sharpest knife in our drawer, and after scraping snow off my head a few times, pulling out my shirt-tail and shaking out the snow that snaked down my back, a light went off telling me that standing under the edge of the roof could be adangerous piece of business to my longtime health.

A flock of hens are kept in line by two gobblers.

I walked away from the roof, stood out of harm's way, and listened as a gobbler 100 yards away and out of sight, gobbled at the hen. It appeared on this bright, warm and sunny day, that he was trying his best to pull together a harem of hens.

It's probably still a bit too early for him to get very excited about breeding hens, but for me, spring fever has set in. I'm eager to go back outside after this is written, and soak up some of the warmth that has been missing from my life since early last fall.

It's about 50 degrees, and one must stretch their imagination a bit to say that 50 degrees is warm, but all things are relative. Fifty degrees is warm when compared to the teens and the 20s of a week ago.

It's a day for doing very little except trying to get accustomed to a bit of warmth in the air. I still had to shovel off the front deck to clean things up, but that is fine by me.

It is a trade-off. Warm weather makes snow slide off my roof. In places, it misses the deck and falls over the railing. In other places it lands with a dull thud on the deck, shakes the house, and just lays there making a mess of things. In open spot, there is a deck railing that was destroyed two weeks ago by falling ice and snow.

I could do, as I once did, and figure if the Good Lord wanted snow there, He put it there and could make it go away. It seems the going-away part gets lost in the translation of my thoughts, and it also means that it's time to go to work.

I'm no longer fond of snow.

Shoveling snow isn't one of my favorite winter chores, but it is a necessary evil. Last summer I reached the age of 70, and with the vision loss in one eye, meant crawling up on the roof to clean it off three or four times a year was foolhardy and stupid. I agreed with that.

My balance is bad on slanted surfaces, and even worse when those surfaces are snow and/or ice-covered. My depth perception is off a twitch or two, and my family could see me sliding off the roof. Even worse than falling to the deck would be to fall and spread-eagle myself on the deck railing. It would probably ruin not only a day but many days, and it seems an unnecessary risk I wouldn't take.

So ... the metal roof was installed. All I need to do now is get a hard hat to wear, start paying more attention when the roof snow starts to melt, and pay more attention to my roof than listening for turkeys gobbling.

Listening to gobbler music is more fun than almost anything.

Oops, there was another gobble. I must be learning, because I'd moved away from the edge of the roof in time to escape the last  little bit of wet snow.

I stood, listening to him rattle the woods and kept trying to spot him through the trees. I haven't seen a hen or gobbler today, but I'm about to start looking for birds.

Maybe a couple of birds will come to stand back in the woods and watch the foolish human as he listens to them. Those birds are smarter than me. They walk around, eat and I've yet to see one with a show shovel.

Whoever said turkeys are dumb have no clue. I know better.

Posted via email from Dave Richey Outdoors