- Details
- Category: Turkey
- Published: Saturday, 23 April 2011 18:10
- Written by Greg
Call Shy or Call Wise
All was quiet for the opener of the Utah spring turkey hunt…all except for Mother Nature. My son and I awoke to almost 5 inches of snow! This year we were attempting to hunt out of a ground blind in hopes of arrowing a tom, but no birds came into our decoys or answered our calls.
Okay, we did see about 15 turkeys on Sunday but that was sheer luck. We had given up and were headed home since there was snow everywhere, people everywhere and turkeys nowhere. As we drove down the highway we noticed a small little cottonwood canyon and decided a quick detour couldn’t hurt. As we drove up the snow covered road, I optimistically looked for turkey tracks near or across the road…a short mile later we had come to the end of the road, nothing. The canyon didn’t look worthy of hunting, so we turned around and headed back.
We hadn’t gone a quarter of a mile when I told my son to stop the truck. I rolled down my window and there on the side of the road were turkey tracks! I was dumbfounded…I was 99% positive that these tracks weren’t here on the way up…could I have missed seeing these just minutes ago? “Dallas, these tracks are fresh and cross the road right here…these weren’t here before were they?” My head, still poking out the window staring at the ground in disbelief, quickly spun around to look in Dallas’ direction when exclaimed “the turkeys are right there!”
There on the side hill not 10 yards away were a flock of turkeys hanging tight in the brush. We couldn’t believe our eyes! We shuffled around in the truck trying to decide what to do…our guns were in the back seat of the truck buried under all of our gear. After a long 30 seconds and at the risk of scaring the turkeys, we exited the truck, opened the rear door and started digging for our guns.
Now that we had our guns loaded and in hand, we headed up the side hill after them. As Dallas pursued them directly, I skirted up above in an attempt to keep them from running straight up hill. Our plan was working…the turkeys apparently unfrightened by us moved ahead of Dallas at only 20 yards. Twice Dallas raised his gun, only to bring it back down to his side and continue his pursuit. After approximately 5 minutes of this game, we had closed in to the point where the flock got nervous and flew away. As Dallas replayed the sequence of events of the last several minutes, he said that his only shot at the long beard would have taken out 4 – 5 other birds had he shot. Not the outcome we’d like to have had, but that chase really got our hearts a pumpin!
Next Friday I was at it again. The area was crawling with hunters, but up in the foothills I could hear the distant gobble of a tom. Excitedly I grabbed my gear and headed up the hillside. Little did I know at the time, but these turkeys were already “call” wise. I found the perfect place, set up and started calling. I could hear hens returning my calls, along with the gobbler. After 10 minutes or so, I could hear the gobbler getting further away. Then I could hear other hunters calling and getting closer to my location. I picked up and moved toward the tom. Again I stopped, set up and started calling. Same result. For the third time I headed in the direction of the gobble. This time I got to within about 100 yards when I spotted the turkeys working their way along a ridge line. However, within a minute of my spotting the flock, another hunter had done the same and worked his way between myself and the turkeys. Needless to say, the turkeys got spooked and disappeared.
For the last 45 minutes of daylight, 2 toms took turns gobbling back and forth across the hill side. Myself and several other hunters, tried to make our way to the gobblers before nightfall, but to no avail.
Saturday morning I was up before dawn and positioned right in the middle of the hillside where I had guessed the turkeys had roosted for the night. Just after first light a gobble broke the early morning silence. Perfect, he was within 150 yards of me. I set up and started calling. A hen answered and the tom gobbled, but nothing seemed to be coming in to my calls. Were these turkeys “call” shy? It didn’t take long and hunters were combing the hillside and everything went quiet, except for the occasional hunter trying to entice a response from an unsuspecting turkey. The rest of the day was void of turkey vocalization…and turkeys for that matter.
As I lay in my sleeping bag that night, it finally dawned on me that these turkeys were not “call” shy, they were “call” wise. My plan had now changed, if I were lucky enough to hear another gobble on this hunt, I was going to pursue in a mostly “call-less” manner.
Morning came quickly, but not so for the anticipated sound of a thunderous gobble. Two hours of silence must have been enough as all the hunters in the area packed up and left. I myself decided that the turkeys had been pushed from the area, so I made my way back to camp, got on my 4 wheeler and headed up a trail that led up the opposite side of the mountain from where I had been hunting. I stopped and listened and much to my surprise I heard a gobble from a mile across the canyon, right where I had just been! At this distance I just had to try calling to see if I could get a response…I did. I raced back to camp; parked my 4 wheeler and headed back up the side hill.
I figured I was within 400 yards or so of the gobbler and decided to make a couple of soft clucks. The ol’ tom couldn’t resist and gobbled back in a thunderous response! For the next 5 minutes he gobbled almost non-stop. I had now closed in to within 35 yards and could see the bright red head of the gobbler through the thick branches of trees and across the small draw that separated us. A clear shot wasn’t possible so I sat for another 3 – 4 minutes waiting for him to move just 2 feet to my left. The wise old gobbler appeared to be growing nervous, looking in my direction, ducking down and then reappearing. I couldn’t take it, I figured I could lure him a couple of feet from his position. Using my mouth call I quietly clucked twice. He disappeared.
Ten seconds later he gobbled from at least 20 yards further away. As quietly as I could, I quickly scrambled down and back up the small draw. I had covered 40 yards and was just past the spot where the turkey had been a minute ago, when the old tom let out another gobble. There he was, but moving away. I threw my gun to my shoulder, no shot. I could see a small opening about 25 feet ahead if the turkey would continue moving. The bead of my 12 gauge was positioned on the 12 inch gap; it was going to have to be a quick shot. Seconds later his red head appeared, the roar of the 3 ½ inch magnum shell echoed across the mountain side. Branches shattered as a cloud of debris erupted where the turkey had been an instant ago. Did I get him? Did I miss? For the next 3 seconds I wasn’t sure what had happened, I couldn’t see any movement at all. I quickly rushed forward 15 feet or so and there down over the slope of the hill I could see the beating wings of my bagged turkey!
Tips/lessons learned:
- Under heavy hunting pressure, don't expect the turkeys to come to you
- When turkeys have been called excessively and you do get a response, then quit calling once you are within 100 - 150 yards and try still hunting them
- Video/record your calling sequences, I found my cadence was too fast once I listened to/reviewed my own recording