- Details
- Category: Turkey
- Published: Friday, 02 May 2014 05:14
- Written by Greg
One and Done
Spring, the harbinger of Utah's general season turkey hunt, had arrived. Opening day and I was up at 4:00 a.m. The previous weekend weather brought measurable snow to the mountains and snow flurries to the valley floor. As I hiked along the foothills near my home, the early morning chill bit hard at my face.
As the sky began to lighten I reached my destination, 3 miles from where I began.
My hope was that the morning silence would be broken by the gobbles of an awaking tom...that never happened.
In fact, I never heard the sound of a single turkey all morning long. My one and only encounter with a turkey was at 10:15 a.m. when a hen walked out in front of me at 75 yards.
I highly doubt my "calling" enticed her from the underbrush because she could not have been any less interested in my "calling".
This hen never responded vocally or glanced in my direction, she merely continued feeding until she disappeared from sight.
Wednesday was a new day and my plan was radically different. The plan was to head south and hunt until I either bagged a turkey or until Sunday ended, which ever came first. At 1:00 p.m. my work day was done so I quickly headed home, packed the last of my gear and headed south.
Five hours later I was high in the snow capped mountains hammering away on my turkey box call. And then I heard that "sweet music to my ears", the sound that all turkey hunters hope to hear, the distinct response gobble from old tom turkey! I took a glance at the time, 6:01 p.m. Perfect, plenty of daylight remained.
I needed to close the distance since the large sparse sagebrush flat separated me from Mr. turkey, providing little if any concealment.
So I proceeded toward the cover of the trees 300 yards in the distance.
Near the edge of the tree line I once again fired up my box call, attempting to zero in on the gobbler's location.
Much to my satisfaction several turkeys gobbled in response.
I cautiously made my way another 100 yards, placed my decoy in front of me and set up for the ambush. My first calling sequence was answered by thunderous gobbles! However, this scenario played out for an hour and twenty minutes until I couldn't take it any longer.
My legs were numb from crouching, I sensed the gobblers were growing tired or possibly suspicious of this loud mouthed hen; not to mention that a couple of yelping hens finally made me realize why it was that the turkeys hung-up roughly 80 yards away. I decided to change my location.
Quickly I back tracked and skirted north around the hillside. Within minutes I figured I had crept to within yards of the gobbler's sanctuary. Using my mouth call I made a few soft clucks, instantly two gobblers responded just ahead. Slowly I lifted my head to peek up and over the small rise.
Somewhat busted by a couple of hens Just ready to clear the sage
Two hens met my gaze, I froze. Faintly I clucked again. A couple of toms answered simultaneously. I continued scanning forward without moving a muscle. Ever so slowly a strutting gobbler's tail fan rose inches above the sage brush 25 yards away. Unfazed by my presence, the hens calmly moved parallel to my position and luckily for me, the tom was following. Within seconds his current course would provide me a clear shot...gently I raised my shotgun into position...his bright red head gradually appeared...wait...wait...one and done, the big old gobbler was mine!