Big gobblers attract attention

This is one of the big boy's smaller buddies

This jake can kickstart the adrenaline flow, but the truly 'Big Boys', attract attention; and no small amount of worry for the hunter(s!), hot-on-their-trail.
photo Dave Richey ©2012

One thing about turkey gobblers is true. There are far fewer big old longbeards running around northern Michigan than jakes.

The other day I spotted a huge longbeard in a field about 15 miles from home. The bird was wandering alone although two or three hens weren't very far away.

What struck me about this bird, besides his larger than normal size, was his beard. The beard was at least 10-12 inches in length, and appeared to be as wide as a big paint brush. It hung ponderously off his chest, and swayed from side to side as he walked.

Big longbeards like that cause traffic jams

I noted the time of day, drove a half-mile down the road and out of sight of the gobbler, turned around and drove past him for another look. From this angle the bird looked even larger, and the beard was dragging the dirt whenever he bent over to feed.

This was a gobbler of extraordinary proportions. Such birds are difficult to keep hid because he seemed bound and determined to stand out in the open where he could be seen by every vehicle that traveled the busy road.

We drove away, and the next day we went back looking for this Monarch of the open fields. Sure enough, he was in the same field, walking the edge of a wood lot, and about 100 yards off the paved road.

The question is how long will he stay there? If he keeps showing himself, every turkey hunter west of Interlochen and north of US-31 will be trying to hunt him. The bird is on private land, and seems enthralled with the area.

It's my assumption that the big gobbler and some hens are roosting nearby. I see him about two hours after sunrise, and the birds never stray too far from this spot.

My bet is the bird will be scared by human activity

Company came and spent three days here, and I didn't have any chance to go out checking on the big gobbler. I know for certain that at least two other hunters know about him, and suspect he has now been seen  by many more people.

The burning question is whether he will still be around when turkey season opens. I spotted another car parked along the road, and figured he was watching the bird.

He had binoculars to his face when I pulled up. He turned, saw me and whispered "Big bird." I nodded in agreement.

The bird walked off into the woods, and he asked if I had known the bird was there. I told him I'd been watching the gobbler for a few days.
"Are you planning to hunt him?" he asked. I told him that I might if he sticks around.

"Do you think he will still be in this area when the season opens," he asked. "I just spotted him on my way home,  and I've never seen a beard like that before."

His was a valid question. Would this bird still be in the area when the turkey season opens? It's not very likely.

I felt the big gobbler would disappear before the opener

"I doubt if he will still be here then," I said, being honest with the guy. "A bird that big attracts a great deal of attention, and I suspect people pressure will force him to move on.

"How far he and the hens will move is just a guess. I'd expect him to breed those hens before the season opener, and then he will be off in search of other hens. He could be several miles away when the season kicks off."

Would I hunt him? Certainly, if I could get hunting permission for that land. However, my guess is he will be gone in a week or less because other people now know where he is, and if cars continue to stop and watch him, the pressure will force him to get on his way.

And, perhaps that is a good thing. Such big birds are tempting, and poachers often figure a way to shoot such birds out of season. That is one reason why I didn't say how far west of Interlochen Corners or how many miles north.

I may go looking for him again tomorrow, but it wouldn't surprise me if he is gone already. Perhaps I'll be lucky and find him again, and then, I may never see that gobbler again.

The next time I spot him, if there is a next time, there will not be any notations in my blog. The only reason I've written about the bird is because of his size and because I know he won't hang around there long.

He will shove off, move elsewhere, and it's likely he will take over the hens of a smaller gobbler, and soon he will be following the hens. They will keep him moving, and the more nearby eyes and ears there are, the safer that bird will be.

Location is KEY

Big gobblers, like the left one, must be played carefully

Big tom turkey's don't get old or big by being easily fooled. Timeing and location play key roles in turkey hunting success.
photo Dave Richey ©2012

There's an old real estate adage that almost everyone knows. The key thing to remember is  location, location, location. Where the land or home is located means almost everything.

This old saying also holds true for turkey hunters. Location means everything, and if a hunter is going to have any kind of success with a big gobbler, he must be in the right spot at the right time.

So far, I've talked to just two people with a first-season turkey tag, and neither man has found gobblers yet. Both cite high winds, rain and on again, off again cold weather and snow as various excuses.

We had some snow on the ground yesterday

One guy was looking for birds near home, and his brother was scouting a nearby area. My buddy checked where he'd seen a gobbler fly up to roost the night before, and estimated he was 150 yards away.

He waited for dawn, listened to the bird gobble once from the roost tree at about 6:30 a.m., and called twice, and that was all it took.

That bird might have come to him if he'd called, but the season is still about two weeks away," he said. "The bird flew down from the tree, and shut up."

His brother, who had not seen or heard a bird, and had traveled to what would be a new hunting location when their season opened. They walked into the area, sat down with their backs to adjacent trees, and began to listen for birds.

"I soon heard a bird that wasn't very far away," he said. "I listened to him for 40 minutes. He seemed to have a couple of hens and lesser gobblers with him. We sat still and never spooked the birds.

That's one way to play the pre-season scouting game

"At first we thought there was just one bird but it turned out to be two adult gobblers traveling together. Finally, one split away from the other, and came our way only to be spooked by a roaming coyote. Those birds should still be around when the next season opens."

Well, that just might be a bit of wishful thinking. All scouting does right now is show and tell you where the birds are today. They could be, and quite likely will be, two miles away when the season opens. The birds often do return to an area eventually if they are not badly spooked.
I've heard it mentioned many times by turkey hunters that they believe gobblers and hens may be spooking from decoys. If there is no wind, and the decoy doesn't move, the bird won't come in. Obvious, this isn't an across-the-board belief, but some birds seem definitely afraid of one or more decoys, and a scouting hunters should never put out decoys before the season opens.

More and more people are using decoys now than ever before. It stands to reason that some birds are spooked by the fakes.

Being in the right spot at the right time is crucial to success. I don't consider myself a great caller, but I know enough not to call too much once my season opens. Finesse the birds a little, don't call too loud so the bird gets spooky, and chances are good you can close the deal on a gobbler. The trick is to be patient, and don't call too loud or too often.

Years ago, my wife and I drew first-season hunting tags, and we got set up early, and she wanted to take her gobbler with a bow. I had her sitting inside a hunting coop. I had three decoys -- two hens and a jake -- positioned in front of her with the jake only 15 yards away.

I sat outside with my back to a big tree and waited for the first gobbler to sound off. A few crows called, and then he tuned up the volume and rattled the trees in that woodlot. I gave a soft tree yelp, and he gobbled again and again while I remained silent. It's part of the teasing process.

Here's a bit of good advice to try on a solitary gobbler

As a southern buddy used to tell me: "Tell 'em what you think they want to hear, but give them a pack of lies. Make your calls sound too good to be true, be patient and they may come."

Five minutes passed, and the longbeard gobbled again, and I gave a soft tree yelp, waited until he quit gobbling, slapped my pant legs a few quick times to simulate a bird flying down, and could hear that bird busting branches as he flew to the ground.

He gobbled again on the ground, came walking through the woods, walked within three feet of my boots and strutted out to whup on that jake decoy. I could hear him drumming and spitting, and he gobbled out a challenge to the jake decoy, and walked in to smack the fake bird around.

The gobbler offered Kay a good shot, and that was the end of that bird. It wasn't the largest gobbler she has killed, but doing it with a bow was a major accomplishment.

A year earlier, much the same thing played out as I called in a nice gobbler for her, and she took it with a shotgun. In fact, I've called in most of her gobblers over the past twenty years.

A person can be the best caller in the world, but if he is in the wrong spot, there will be no birds racing in his direction. Personally, I'd rather know where the bird is roosted, and be a mediocre caller, than to be in the wrong spot with championship calling skills on my side.

Location to a turkey hunter, as it is to a real estate agent, is the most important part of the hunting equation. It's what can put a tasty bird on a turkey platter this spring.

Just make certain your scouting efforts don't spook birds out of the area, and for Heaven's sake, be smart enough to leave your calls at home while scouting before the season opener. The birds don't need more of an education than they already have, and it pays to scout with binoculars or a spotting scope. Find the birds, drive away, and know where a few birds may be when your turkey season opens.

Missing my twin brother

George Richey, holding his former, 2lb. 7oz., Michigan State Record pink salmon.
photo Dave Richey ©2012

It was one of those mid-September days when it felt right to be going through my deer-hunting backpack and sharpening broad-heads. It was something to do while waiting for my next trout fishing trip to arrive.

So I was puttering with my bow quiver of sharpened heads when a memory jolted me as it entered my mind without me thinking. It was of brother George, and he was coming down the Little Manistee River in high water in early April with a rampaging steelhead on his line.

"Try and get a net under this guy," he hollered. "I hooked him a quarter-mile upstream, but he's riding the current broadside. Stick your net in the water, and I'll put him head-first into the net. Ready?"

We'd done this for each other and both knew what to do

My net was pulled from under my belt behind my back, and my rod butt went in underneath the belt. The fish was 10 feet upstream as my net went into the water, and George leaned back on the rod to get the fish up onto the surface, and just at the right time, he dropped the rod tip and the fish dove right into the net. My job was to lift it from the water.

"Good dip," he said, as we waded ashore. The steelhead, a red-sashed male with bright cheeks and gill covers, was 16 pounds of broad-beamed raw power. George worked the No. 4 wiggler fly free, eased the big guy into the river, and with a mighty splash it was gone.

Another time George and I hunted Le Chateau Montebello, a famous resort in Quebec. We were there to hunt deer, and the guide told us we would be lucky to see a deer. If we did, he said, it would be a shooter.

The guy put on one-man drives, and I've been involved in deer drives for most of my life. I can tell good from bad, and this guy was an expert. He walked softly, yipped like a beagle puppy on occasion, and he never hurried the deer. They just moved slowly ahead of him.

We driven deer for years, and this guy was the best I'd seen

Far off, on the third day, I heard him yip softly to let us know he was coming. It was a large area to watch, but 10 minutes later a white-antlered 8-pointer eased from the woods and stood, side-lit by the afternoon sun against a pine, and he was a beautiful sight to behold.
He turned to look the opposite way at George, and I slowly raised the rifle and aimed. He went down at the shot, and George almost beat me to that buck. It was the only deer either of us saw on that hunt, but he wasn't disappointed not to get one. He loved listening to the wolves howl at night, and was happy that one of us shot a good buck.
"Good shot, good buck, and where's the guide?" He asked. "This buck weighs well over 200 pounds, and we will need help to move it far."
The guide showed up, we boiled a kettle to have hot tea with our sandwiches, and then had us a four-mile hike back to his truck and he drove up to the dead animal. It is the only whitetail I've taken in Quebec, but it's important to me because George and I shared the hunt in a unique part of Canada.

Ours was never a competitive thing. We just had fun

Neither of us have ever been truly competitive with each other, but years ago before I wrote the first story about runs of pink salmon in Upper Peninsula streams, George was with me to share what might or might not be an adventure. We didn't know if we'd find the pink salmon.

We would fish pink salmon in the morning and hunt bears in the afternoon, and we found some fish in the Big Huron River. They usually spawned during September on odd-numbered years and we found hordes of them on the first gravel patch above the river-mouth.

We'd been guiding river fishermen for a few years, and started catching pinkies of flies. An orange fly tied on a No 6 hook seemed to produce best, and they were some of George's tried-and-true steelhead and salmon patterns. The fish weren't big but they were aggressive.

"Here's another one," he said. "I'm taking it in to the store to get it weighed. I figure it to be just over two pounds. There's no state record for these fish so one of us should set the record."

Back he came, and it weighed 2 lbs., 3 oz., and so I tried to beat him. Mine weighed 2 lbs., 4 oz. The next day we caught fish of 2 lbs., 5 oz, and then 2 lbs., six oz. It was on the last day that George caught one that weighed 2 lbs., 7 oz., and it became the state record that held up for many years.

I was tickled for him, and he got a Master Angler award, and the mounted fish hung in the DNR offices in Lansing for years before his record was broken. He didn't care. He'd had his "15 minutes of fame."

And that was the neat thing about brother George. He could go with the flow, be happy doing anything outdoors, and greet each new day with a smile on his face. He had the capacity to make people feel good.

He's been gone for nearly nine years, and I miss him greatly. I'd trade many of my tomorrows for a single yesterday, doing something outdoors with him.

Always be prepared for a bow shot

The Boy Scouts of America have a famous motto: Always Be Prepared

To best the better deer, operate on the Boy Scout motto: "Always Be Prepared"
photo Dave Richey ©2012

That same motto should certainly apply to bow hunters, especially those who hunt the December archery season. Bucks are does can appear and disappear without warning, and hunters who have their bow hanging off a limb or hook are not really prepared.

One of my friends told me last fall that a pair of does snuck in on her, and before she could lift her bow off a nearby limb, the buck and both does had vamoosed. She didn't spook them; the buck was keeping the does away from the food source, and when they left he was pulled along in their wake.

"What did I do wrong?" she asked. She wanted the truth but wasn't really prepared for my answer.

Her problem was the same of most people: not being ready

"You weren't ready," I told her. "I learned many years ago to always be prepared for a shot. The hunter must always be ready, and it's one reason why shooting bucks is easy for me."

If a buck is within range, and offers a broadside or quartering-away shot, from the first sighting of the animal until the arrow slices in behind the front shoulder, is a matter of five seconds or less.

Many hunters tire easily of holding their bow. It fatigues arm, shoulder and back muscles, and stiff muscles are slow to respond.

I often lay my bow across my lap while sitting down, and the release is always on the string. Too many people tell me it takes them 10-15 seconds to get the release on the string when a buck shows up. For most of them, the buck is out of range as they fumble and make small noises while trying to put the release on the string.

They get all jittery at the sight of a buck within bow range, Their heart beat speeds up, they make useless movements and make noise and waste time, and by the time they are ready the buck is gone.

Get into a proper shooting position in your stand, and ready the bow. That means having the release on the string from the beginning to the end of the hunt. Trying to pull a release out of a pocket when a deer is nearby is a lesson in frustration and futility.

Being ready  means a shot is imminent and all things are in place

If my bow rests across my lap, all I have to do is rotate the bow upright, and begin making the draw when the moment is right. Missing that right moment is easy when the hunter isn't mentally and physically prepared.

A friend of mine, who bow hunts about 85 days per year, wears tall knee-high rubber boots as we all do to cut down on human scent. He has developed a novel way of always being ready for a bow shot.

"I sit while hunting, and being right-handed, will stick the lower limb of my C.P. Oneida Black Eagle bow into the top outside edge of my boot," he said. "A buck walks in, and the bow is upright, and I begin my draw (the release is already on the string) while sliding the lower limb out of my boot.

By the time I'm at full draw, my red-dot sight is tracking the animal. When it stops or provides me with an ideal shot, the arrow is released. It takes about two seconds to draw, aim and shoot, and there is very little movement to spook wary deer."

What many hunters don't realize about late-season hunting is that bucks are hungry, and are trying to regain weight lost while in rut. This is a vital concern for them, and if does are traveling with a buck, he may drive them away so he can feed.

Some hunters will pass up a 4-, 6- or small 8-point buck in order to help serve as a steward of our natural resources, and will try to shoot a doe. The does are flighty because bucks are hooking at them with their antlers, and they come in and out and seem to be in constant motion.

Just remember that Boy Scout motto while hunting

Hunters like the woman who missed her opportunity tonight must learn to be ready at all times. It requires paying constant attention. Deer can appear and vanish within a few seconds, and hunters who are reaching for their bow or fumbling with a release are usually too late.

I tend to daydream a bit while on stand but my mind is always aware of what is going on around me. I can slip from an idle daydream into drawing my bow in an instant, and hunters who can do this time after time seldom miss an opportunity to shoot at a buck or doe.

They, like a true Boy Scout, are always prepared for action.

Posted via email from Dave Richey Outdoors

Avoid these turkey hunting mistakes

Do everything right, and avoid Mr. Murphy, and you can shoot a bird

Hunt wild turkeys long enough and you're gonna make a blunder or two. That's bankable.
photo Dave Richey ©2012

"Keep your powder dry" was the motto in the 1700 and 1800s when muzzleloading hunters and frontiersmen roamed parts of North America. Those who failed to follow that sage advice often went hungry or had their hair lifted and cut off below the roots.

My list of hunting mistakes with game, especially turkeys, is endless. Years ago, while hunting in a heavy rain with a muzzleloader, I forgot to cover the muzzle. I set my front-loader against a tree with the powder and shot charge in the barrel but the shotgun wasn't primed.

I set out my decoy, retreated to my chosen spot, and primed the muzzleloading shotgun. A large number of gobblers and hens came, and milled around in a tight circle near the decoy, and I couldn't shoot for fear of killing more than one bird. They eventually left, and I called again.

Make certain to learn the exact location of a roosted longbeard

A lone gobbler a half-mile away answered, and I sweet talked him with a soft yelp and some hen jabber with a push-pull call. He came running up. I saw him first at 30 yards, and then he dropped into a little dip in the ground, and popped up again at 20 yards and stopped. The shotgun was up, and when I pulled the trigger, the primer went off with a pop. The powder did not.

I'd forgotten to put a balloon or anything else over the muzzle to keep my powder dry. The Pyrodex was a black semi-liquid. It was a lesson well learned and never forgotten.

I took a guy out one day, late in the season, and spotted a jake 150 yards away. This guy wanted to shoot a gobbler, and beard length didn't matter. It took 30 minutes to bring the jake within 80 yards, and the guy was aiming at the bird.

"He's too far away," I whispered. "Don't shoot yet. Let him get to within 35 yards." He said the bird was only 35 yards away, aimed and shot.
The young gobbler hauled tail feathers into the woods. The man maintained the bird was only 35 yards away until I asked him to give me a prominent landmark where the bird had been standing. He said the bird was right near that little bush that stood three feet high.

He was urged to pace it off in approximately 36-inch steps as I walked beside him counting the paces. I got 80 steps and he got 77 steps, and then he realized the mistake he had made. It was the last gobbler we saw that day.

Pay attention to distance and don't take long shots

This didn't happen to me but to a friend. He knew, within 50 yards of where a gobbler had roosted the night before. He snuck in the next morning, and stopped well short of the roosting area to wait for the first gobbles of the morning. The sun came up and all was silent.

He gave a very soft tree yelp or two but nothing responded. He stuck with it, and finally with a great deal of impatience, he uncorked a loud yelp on his box call and something happened. A big gobbler bailed out of the tree he was sitting under, and it flew 75 yards, hit the ground a'runnin', and that was it. He had set up directly under the gobbler and missed his big chance.

Two friends, on their first gobbler hunt, went looking before dusk and spotted several dark birds on the ground. Just before dark they flew up into a tree. These guys knew about roosting birds and were happy.

Be positive roosted birds are wild turkeys

They returned the next morning well before dawn, set up about 100 yards away, and waited for the day to wake up. Tweety birds tweeted, crows cawed, and they yelped on box calls. They could see several dark forms in the trees, and called again and again.

Eventually the birds flew down, and went to where the hunters had seen them the previous night. No amount of calling seemed to work, so one of them slowly eased his binoculars from his backpack, and with infinite patience, eased them up to his face and studied the birds.

The birds they had roosted the night before were not real turkeys. They were turkey vultures, and they were feeding on carrion on the ground. They admitted it, and took their share of ribbing.

There is only one sure thing when turkey hunting. Murphy's Law always applies, and simply stated: If anything can go wrong, it will. Keep Mr. Murphy in mind, try to outguess him, and sometimes the gobblers react as you plan and the hunt is a success.

Of course, when we mess up, it's still good for a laugh even when we don't feel much like laughing at our silly mistakes. Trust me on this: if you hunt wild turkeys long enough, you too will make a blunder or two.

Fish stories and deer tales

All too often outdoorsmen get caught up in stretching their adventures afield so far they frey and break. Too bad, the truth is often far more interesting.
illustration - i65Design+Media; photos - Dave Richey

A deer tale is made up of some of the very same components as fish stories. Both usually require the use of both arms and hands to measure how long the trout was or how wide the  antler spread happened to be on that big buck they missed.

Oddly enough, some deer tales are true. Others may be partly true, and some have no truth to them whatsoever. For them, the  teller seldom lets the truth get in the way of a good story.

Some of these tales will provoke a questioning response from the listener. Some are out-and-out lies, and others may contain a kernel or two of truth simply because they are so outrageous, it seems likely they must contain some truth.

Some people lie when the truth would be more exciting

Over 58 years of hunting, some deer tales have come my way. Many are considered lies because I can see the teller's lips moving, and know he never tells the truth.

Years ago, a man who is not prone to lying told me a tale about a hunter he knew. The gent had watched a nice buck jump a dry drainage ditch at the same place several days in a row. The time was almost always about 5 p.m.

My friend's friend decided to ambush, bushwhack or dry-gulch the animal with a bow when it jumped the dry ditch. He peeked through tall marsh grass and watched as the buck moved closer. He said he came to full draw, while laying on his back in the ditch, and waited ... or so the story went.

The buck was heard near the edge of the ditch, and as the buck sailed over his prone body, he released the arrow. The shaft skewered the buck just behind the brisket, hit the spine, and exited the animal's back.

The buck could be heard alongside the road, flopping about, paralyzed, and slowly dying. He said a driver, sailing along in his car, almost hit the deer as it folded up inches from the edge of the road. The driver nearly had a heart attack, and thought the animal would crash through the windshield, which quite possibly could have happened.

My problem is: how does a bow hunter draw a bow while laying flat on his back? How does he nail a firm anchor point? Go ahead, try it: try laying on your back and draw an arrow.

Could it have been done? I doubt it. What do you think?

This next story I’ve heard from several people. Some truth involved,

Years ago several guys traveled to Tennessee each year to hunt those wild Rooshian boars, as the locals called them. Their weapon of choice was a spear. They found a boar, taunted it until it charged, and when the boar with its knife-sharp tushes came at them, they would put the back end of the spear in the ground, and when the pig charged, they met the charge with a spear point.

The storyteller said they killed several boars with a spear, and wanted to try it on deer. They knew it would be impossible to get a buck to charge so decided to try spearing a deer from a tree stand, even if it wasn't legal.

One of these yahoos saw a small buck walk past his stand, and he drew back his arm and threw the heavy spear with all of his might. The point went in behind the front shoulder, knocked the deer over, but it ran off and the spear fell out.

The violator climbed down, gathered up his bloodied spear, and started following the blood trail. He trailed the deer for some distance, saw it laying dead and walked up to it.

He squatted down, the spear held with the point upright like an African warrior, to admire the splendid throw he'd made. The spear was suddenly snatched from his hand. He jumped up, cussing up a streak, only to see a smiling conservation officer. The gent lost his deer and spear, received a ticket, paid a big fine, and lost his right to hunt for three years. That was rather a boneheaded play.

The fish and game we take deserve the truth, not a bunch of lies.

Such stories are almost too far-fetched to be true. Both show a wonderful sense of imagination, even if they probably aren't true. One of the secrets to telling a joke, a tall tale or a lie, is each one should contain some semblance of truth.

It's that little dash of truth, like mustard on a hot dog, that makes the tale somewhat tasty to the listener and easier to swallow. And, over many years, I've spent a good deal of time with conservation officers, and some of the tales they tell are about as far off center as these. So, perhaps they could be true.

I've got some other whoppers I've heard in the past, and some day soon I'll trot out a few more for your reading pleasure. If you've got a good one, send it along.

Posted via email from Dave Richey Outdoors

Fool a gobbler on his turf

Choose your spot wisely and you’ll shoot a nice gobbler

Make the right assumptions and you will fool that gobbler on his home turf and enjoy a successful hunt.

There are a great number of assumptions in today's blog. I am assuming that you'll roost a big gobbler the night before your turkey hunt opens.

We further assume you know which tree he will roost in, and which little wooded opening he will try into. For good measure, we'll also assume the direction he and his harem of hens will take to the closest strutting zone after fly-down.

I told you there were many assumptions. And, if you think about it very long and hard, you will note such basic assumptions exist on almost every spring turkey hunt.

Now, the trick is to get into place within 100 yards (give or take 25 yards) of the roosted limb-hanger. The question of the day is simple: Does the gobbler fly down into the field or into a wooded opening?

If the open field is close, it can affect where you choose a stand. If the bird lands in the woods, the hunter can set up in the woods, along the path they normally travel to get to the field or near the field edge.

If you don't assume correctly, you are counting on luck

There are hazards to setting up near the wooded opening. It is easy to bump a bird if you mistakenly get too close to the roosted gobbler and he or his hens hear or see you moving into position.

Another problem with setting up in the dark is it is lighter from above, and the bird can see down into the woods better than you can see while sitting down in the woods. The fly-down may come so early (minutes before actual sunrise), and it can fly down and the beard may not be clearly visible. The gobbler may walk past a hunter gobbling like crazy, and it's easy to assume this is a gobbler (which it probably is) but it may have lost its beard. It wouldn't be legal to shoot a beardless bird.

I prefer to set up fairly close to the open field, and call once or twice to get the attention of the gobbler, and sit back to see what happens. Just remember now to face the west when you set up or you may be looking directly into a fiery sunrise and not be able to see the gobbler as he moves past.

Pop the bearded bird if it flies right to you at fly-down

The trick here is to move 10 to 15 yards into the woods, sit down and be ready for a shot. The gobbler may twist off two or three lusty gobbles from the roost, fly down, gobble once again, and then move out without gobbling again.

If preseason scouting indicates where the bird roost, and it is a short distance (within 100 yards) of the field, I'd set up near the field edge. This provides perhaps the easiest and quietest place to sit up, and you can avoid spooking birds.

There is  no need to be breaking branches at the last moment. If you've watched the birds walk out of the woods to the strutting area, once they move off across the field or back through the woods, find a key location, locate where you will sit, remove those broken stubs that stick your back or butt, clean away all dry leaves underfoot, and determine where you will put the decoys (if you use them).

Prepare such a spot a day or two before the season opens but make certain the birds are gone before you do anything. Take care of your set-up area, and move quickly away. Try to avoid being pinpointed by other hunters.

Get in place early and quietly arranges calls, and then relax and wait

Come opening day, I try to be in place at least an hour before daybreak. Sit back and relax, and don't start second-guessing your spot. If it looked good by light of day, it should look good on opening morning.

Make certain you know how to get into the area without stumbling around. Turkeys are accustomed to hearing deer, raccoons and other ground-dwelling critters move around in the dark. A tiny bit of noise is acceptable but no talking.

Muffle box calls and push-button calls so they don't squawk if you bump against a sapling or tree limb or trunk in the dark. I lay out all the calls I plan to use on a green or brown towel next to my left leg within easy reach.

Enjoy watching the woods come alive, and be prepared for that first gobble of the day. Shooting a gobbler is anticlimactic to hearing the first few gobbles and watching a snowball-white head come bobbing through the woods as the bird comes to the call.

Pulling the trigger is the least of my concerns. For me, calling and fooling a gobbler on his turf is what the hunt is all about.