The Hunt Is What It's All About

Anyone who spends any time reading my daily blogs must know I am a turkey-hunting addict. Deer hunting may be what I enjoy most, but the only reason for that is because turkey hunting seasons don't last long enough.

It's possible to hunt whitetails during October, November, December and January 1. Turkey hunting in Michigan is much different with its short seasons.

Even if you hunt the whole last season, which is about three weeks long, a hunter will get in the most hunting time, but its still not enough. It's a far cry from three full months of deer seasons. And when I can't turkey hunt, I buy used books on turkey hunting to read. Contact me at < dave@daverichey.com > if you have any turkey books to sell. I'll pay top prices for books in excellent condition..

My turkey hunting often allows me to pass up a bird or two early in my season, and I've been known to pass up several gobblers that provided easy shots only to end my season without a bird. Why, you  ask?

It's rather elementary. By not shooting the first, second or third bird that came to my calls, it allowed me the maximum time in the field and the greatest potential to experience everything turkey hunting has to offer.

Shooting a gobbler, whether a jake or a longbeard, is not why I hunt these keen-eyed birds. I hunt them for the intense satisfaction that comes from making the most of my opportunities.

That means there are more opportunities to fool a gobbler.  More chances to listen to a big Tom gobble and double-gobble back at me, and more opportunities to watch the blue-white-red head of a highly charged-up gobbler move through the fields and woods in my direction.

Three years ago I was hunting a strutting zone 10 miles from where I live. Any bird that came to me would have to cross an open ridge, walk down the small hill, and cross another 200 yards of open field to get within shooting range.

The gobblers greeted the dawn from their roost trees, and behind me were some hen turkeys. Once the first gobbler sounded off, I held off from answering. He gobbled again, and then a big gobbler sounded off with a double-gobble.

I gave a  soft yelp, and that livened up the hens several hundred yards behind me. The gobblers sounded off again, and I answered softly, and sat back to wait. The hens began calling, and I was perfectly positioned in a strut zone where gobblers and hens would meet. Hens were coming from  behind me, and the gobblers were coming toward me.

It was like being between two opposing armies as they advanced on my position. There no longer was a need to call or move. The hens were doing the job for me.

Ten minutes later the gobblers stood atop yonder hill, gobbled again when they saw my two hens and one jake-decoy. They were spread out like soldiers, and began their advance on my position. They would stop and start, and I'm mentally urging them to hurry before the hens arrived and may possibly lead them away.

The three longbeards and one jake started running when I made scratching sounds in the dry leaves like feeding birds. My shotgun was up and laying across my knees, and I was set up properly. It took those gobblers 10 seconds to cross the remaining 100 yards.

The lead gobbler ran up to poor Henrietta, my battered and bedraggled hen decoy, and knocked her off the stake while the other gobblers went after the jake decoy.

Poor Henrietta was laying flat on the ground with the large gobbler astraddle her, and the other birds were working Jakie over in a bad way. I watched this fascinating performance for another 10 seconds, and since it was now late in the season, the gobbler stood erect when he finished his brief job, stood with his head held high, as he surveyed the second hen decoy as a load of 3-inch magnum No. 5 copper-plated pellets took him down.

The other gobblers stopped, saw the Big Boss Bird laying on the ground, and took off. I heard the hens flush behind me right after the shot, and then, all the real birds were gone.

I've called in two different gobblers on seperate hunts over the years when my wife shot them with a bow. It was pretty exciting stuff , and each bird went 10 feet straight up into the air as the arrow drove through them, and both fell dead on the ground.

Turkey hunting is exciting. Shooting the bird is anticlimactic, and the hunt lives on long after the bird has been eaten and thoughts of the hunt have faded away. Calling in a big gobbler, watching him approach, and then offering a shot is what triggers intense feelings in an addicted hunter like me.

The shot is nothing more than the final act in this outdoor drama. Sometimes the gobbler wins, and sometimes he doesn't, but what counts the most is the actual hunt. This is a pastime where the hunt is far more important than the kill.

I wouldn't have it any other way.

Posted via email from Dave Richey Outdoors