Listening TO Only A Few Spring Gobblers

Jakes – shoot or let them walk by

Pick up on a FEW Spring Turkeys and listen closely
photo Dave Richey ©2012

It was a beautiful morning to be alive. I slipped out the door about 6:45 a.m. into 42-degree temperatures, and it felt wonderful.

The sun wasn't up yet but sharp spears of golden light shot upward from the eastern horizon, and my thoughts were on how beautiful the morning was. I stood there, a moment frozen in time, and waited for the sun to start bulging the horizon of the eastern sky.

It seems to start slow, and then the top surface of the ball of fire broke through, and up came the sun, growing more orange and red as it rose. It's a magic that I never tire of watching, and if there is a reason for rising before sun-up, it's to witness the rare beauty of dawn.

Watching a golden sunrise on opening day

I stood, transfixed by its beauty, and asked myself how anything could be any better. And then I learned how.

Off in the distance, so far away it could hardly be heard, came the very soft tree yelp of a hen turkey. She cutt once, just checking on the whereabouts of the other birds, and then a full-throated gobbler chimed in and the sound was loud even from a long distance away.

It's always amazing how loud a gobbler is when he roars as the sun comes up. The volume of sound is impossible to believe unless it is seen and heard up close.

He nailed that gobble with lusty exuberance for the day, and she gave another soft yelp. Big Daddy, still sitting in his roost tree, gobbled and then hit a double-gobble just to show everyone in the nearby trees who the Boss Gobbler in these parts happened to be.

Another Tom gobbled once, and again 10 seconds later, and then the Big Boss Man tuned up the woods again. The hen yelped a little bit more, just enough to keep the gobblers fired up, and then the Toms began gobbling back and forth at each other.

A gobble or double-gobble is pure Michigan excitement

Four individual gobblers were heard, and the fury of this sound was awesome. One or two small jakes tried to gobble but couldn't quite pull it off. Like adolescent boys, their voices were changing but they simply couldn't hit that low bass note and keep it going.

It was one of those days when I wished I could be sitting on the ground in my camo, a shotgun over my knees, and start lighting a real fire in their bellies. I love to listen to that low-pitched humming sound that gobblers make when they are close to a hen.

Many people have heard it, didn't know what it was, but if you are hunting and hear it, don't move because a gobbler is close. The sound doesn't carry far, and two or three years ago I was calling a gobbler for a buddy when I heard it.

"Don't move a muscle," I whispered. "There's a big gobbler behind us and he is very close. Don't move anything. We'll wait him out."

If you hear a gobbler spitting and drumming, sit still and don't move

That bird was within 15 feet of us, and I could hear him pacing back and forth in dry leaves, but he wouldn't circle around. We later learned that he had two big hens with him, and he was trying to lure my two hen decoys to follow along with him.

Unfortunately, I was too far away to hear this sound but I have no doubt that once the hens and gobblers flew down, that it would have been audible if the birds were close.

These birds on this delightful day serenaded the morning for 20 minutes while I stood and listened. And then, as if the switch had been thrown, they shut up and started moving.

I pulled the newspaper from the tube, walked back to the house, and stood on the back deck for another 10 minutes. The birds were indeed on the move, and I heard one gobbler rattle out his love song to the hens as they walked off in the opposite direction.

The turkeys, just like me, appeared happy to see the snow gone off the hillsides. All of winter's snow back in the hollows is gone, but I'll greet the dawn with the birds many times before the hunting season begins.

There's not much need for preseason scouting because I know the pattern of these birds and where they roost. I'll stay far away from them, hope they are not spooked out of the area, and each day they greet my distant presence with a gobble, is another memorable moment in my life.

Calling gobblers is more fun than shooting one

Somehow, I hope that's the way it may turn out but I have some doubts. It's been spring for five weeks, and I doubt many birds will be in the mood this spring. Some hen  birds have been seen on nests, and we're seeing very little gobbler activity if compared to past years.

But when my season open April 30, I'll be out there as usual, to greet the dawn with optimism. And I hope for just one lusty gobbler to call to me and my buddy. One chance may be it for this spring season, and we'll try to make the most of it.

Dreaming turkey hunting thoughts

A big boss gobbler fell to a well-placed shot during the spring hunt

It starts every year in late January. I submit my spring turkey application, and sit back and dream turkey thoughts. My turkey hunting vest hangs in the corner of my office. The pockets bulge with box calls wrapped in soft brown wash cloths, and secured with stout rubber bands to prevent an accidental sound at the wrong time.

The back of my vest has a couple of decoys and stakes, and there is a turkey wing I slap against tree trunks and brush to imitate a hen flying down to the ground at dawn.

Other pockets contain slate and glass calls, another pocket has a bunch of diaphragm calls, and scattered here and there is a crow call and an owl call although I rarely use them. There is a gobbler call that I have used perhaps twice in 35 years.

My vest contains everything I'll need for a turkey hunt

Most of my joy about turkey hunting comes from calling them. The idea of a big gobbler strutting his way to the call is a magnificent feeling. It is a wonderful sight, watching that bird react to soft clucks and purrs, and to watch a long-beard sneak through the woods, stop and go into a full strut and a booming gobble, is something I've experienced often.

Now me, I am not a good caller. Guys like Greg Abbas, Bob Garner, Bruce Grant, Arnie Minka, Phil Petz, Al Stewart and many others are good callers. Not me. I think I was tone deaf as a youngster, and never could sing a lick. I couldn't carry a tune in a picnic basket.
Countless records have been listened to, and there's no way the sounds that come from my calls sound anything like those on a record or tape.

The tapes have true sound quality, and the notes are crisp and sharp.

Mine tend to run together. There are calls I can't make, and I never try, but no matter how bad they sound to me, it matters little. It doesn't seem to bother the gobbler. Not one tiny bit!

Maybe the turkeys are as tone deaf as me. No one, write that down for posterity, no one is perfect all the time.

I've heard even expert callers blow a clinker once in a while

One of the secrets of turkey calling that I learned many years ago was that gobblers and hens, like men and women, have different voices. They don't sound the same, and humans are not meant to sound the same either. So if my turkey tunes are a little off, it doesn't bother me if it doesn't bother the birds.

I've argued back and forth with hens, and on more than one occasion, my squabbling with a hen brings him to me. Where she goes, the gobbler follows, and more than a couple gobblers have met their fate by following a snarly old hen to my call.

I've read books on turkey calling, and the author advises leaving the diaphragm home if a hunter can't use it right. I always let the turkeys determine whether it is right or wrong, and even when it sounds wrong to me, the birds seem to accept it.

Turkey calling is the epitome of turkey hunting

Turkey calling, to my way of thinking, is not so much about what you say with a call as how and when you say it. There is a certain rhythm to turkey calling, and if a hunter has the sense to know the string of sounds and put them together in the right order, the birds may come.

There is much good to be said about never calling too much. A hen that stays in one spot, doesn't move and squawks at the gobbler may not call a long-beard in. But, then again, maybe it will.

Try a running call a little bit, perhaps answer one gobble to let him know where you are, and that may be all it takes to lure a big Tom to the gun.

However, having said that, I've long experimented with using two calls at once. If a gobbler sounds hot on the roost, and is gobbling and double gobbling, but won't move in your direction, try using a box call and a diaphragm at the same time. It sounds something like two hens, and sometimes it will cause the gobbler to come running to investigate.

Nothing ever works 100 percent of the time, and I've seen world champion turkey callers mess up. Too much calling at the wrong time is a dangerous practice, and hunters must have the experience needed to know when and how much to call.

Shooting the gobbler isn't why I hunt them. I chase this long-spurred bird because I thrill at seeing a snowball-white head bobbing through the woods as it comes to my call. I've been known to let the bird come in, look for the hen and wander off, just so I can catch the buzz of having a gobbler up close.

It's a thrill I hope never to lose, and I'll be practicing my calling for the next three months. Perhaps the practice will help but it's nothing to worry about. I know that with time I can call in almost every gobbler that wants to come.

The problem is that sometimes gobblers just don't want to come. Go figure.

Turkeys can make fools of hunters

Is a gobbler like this one in your future. Hunt hard and smart?

It was quiet today. Too quiet for the first day of the first hunt of our Michigan's spring turkey season.

After two days of very strong winds, it dawned fairly windy this morning which would keep the birds roosted longer. I was outdoors a good bit today, and heard nary a gobble or a shot. I made a few phone calls to some turkey-hunting friends around the state, and based on what was seen and heard, the opening day got off to a slow and quiet start.

I've avoided the issue for a variety of reasons, but most importantly, it would never be my intention to play the gas-price hole card to cause people to stay home. But with gas prices that seem determined by supply and demand or price gouging to hit a new high every day, many people are foregoing some of their former outdoor pleasures to save money.

A bad first day of the turkey season doesn't make a hunt.

Trust me, I feel your pain because we've pulled in our horns due to high gas prices. A couple of people I've discussed the issue with feel as I do: people aren't traveling very much. The steelhead runs showed fewer anglers; fishing guides report fewer spring trips; and I suspect when all the votes are counted, many sportsmen may give up their chance to turkey hunt unless they can do it close to home.

The cost of losing one day's wages by taking time off work doesn't appeal to any of us. No one can really afford to go as often as we did a few years ago. The inflated price of gasoline will hurt some of the tourist business in many locations.

But then, is that really the cause of a poor showing today? Who knows? It could be the fault of the weatherman telling us that tomorrow or Wednesday we may see another 10 inches of snow, which certainly wouldn't help turkey hunters.

Can we ignore the possible warnings? I think not, based on the screwy weather we've had since New Year's Day. It's certainly not been like most Michigan winters. We get quite a bit of snow in our area near Traverse City, and I've kept track since the first significan snow-fall last November, and I've tallied 176 inches so far.

Some snow won't bother the gobblers but if the white stuff is accompanied by very much wind, it will keep the limb-hangers in place longer than usual. An old-fashioned blizzard would wreck at least two days of hunting effort.

Hunters must be prepared for any weather eventuality.

We've heard the wind blow before in this section of the north country, and often such storms blow through to the north or south of where we live. It makes little difference: it will have an major effect on hunting success wherever it hits.

In past years of driving back roads while scouting for birds, I've come to accept one fact: the fewer vehicles spotted while scouting usually means fewer hunters in the woods, which can mean a reduced turkey harvest.

Of course, wild turkeys are every bit as unpredictable in their actions as the spring weather. I've hunted lots of years in many areas of the country. And one very important thing I've learned is that predicting the actions of a big old Boss Gobbler is much like predicting your mother-in-law's attitude in advance of her visit. I'd like to talk to someone who has figured out gobblers and moms-in-law, and maybe they could teach me something I should know.

So, is there a moral to this story? You bet, and let's hope it works for you this week and me next week. The short and sweet part of this moral is simple: we can't change the weather, and even if we could, wild turkeys have a strange sense of timing. They always seem capable of throwing a big monkey wrench into any potential turkey hunt, and often do so without provocation.

Lay the best plans in the world, exercise the utmost caution, possess the stillness of a hunting owl, and yet, wild turkey can and will out-wit human hunters. Call like a champion, choose your hunting areas with great care, enter on quiet feet long before dark, sit with the patience of Job, and turkeys may spot the slightest movement, and charge off to parts unknown.

The best of plans often go awry when it comes to gobbler hunting.

The balance of your hunting time may be spent trying to find one gobbler who was in the back of the classroom when hunter savvy was handed out, and he may still find a way to humiliate a grown sportsman. He may zig when you feel he'll zag, and the shot pattern will poke tiny holes in the dirt but not in the bird.

It's nothing personal, you know. Turkeys don't think like we do, and I've seen them come 300 yards as straight as a string, and when they are within five yards of providing a shot, they will stop, strut a bit, turn around and walk back to their original spot. Who knows why?

It's been said many times that there's more to turkey hunting than pulling the trigger. Sometimes us mere mortals just don't stand a chance in the turkey woods. It's just part of the turkey mystique we must accept, even if we never do understand it.

Posted via email from Dave Richey Outdoors