You Can Live Better Without Turkey Hunting Sports
I promise it won’t be as bad as talking about Mountain Lions. Even though we still have to do this story, I feel the need for us to talk about the turkey’s concerns. If you are a rabid spring gobbler hunter, as I know there are many of you, time is running out.
It is guaranteed that no other type of hunting in the Western Hemisphere is more steeped in legends, folklore, myths, fairy tales and downright bald lies than turkey hunting. I know this because most of them were perpetuated by grumpy old turkey hunters like me.
Lately, however, I’ve felt the need to shed the ties of the old sour turkey hunting hangman, and maybe by exposing some of those age-old turkey fables there can still be hope. for me. (Dude! This is getting really deep, isn’t it?) So here are some of the old turkey fables we need to dispel, my brothers in camouflage.
You absolutely must, positively, be in the woods when it comes time to devour.
I was as bad about it as most of the turkey hunters. The thought for a hundred years has been that if you’re not there in the dark when the gobbler starts clicking on that member, well you’re just too late and you better stay home. I say it’s so much bovine manure. We all love to be there in the light of day, during the magical time and hearing a turkey on the perch. But what happens when this turkey dodges all of our invitations to walk and get shot properly? We spend our morning and maybe find one who wants to talk to us around 9:30 am. We start a warm relationship and he ends up coming home with us, in the back of the truck. If you’re late one morning, need to take the kids to school, or just sleep too long, go for it. The turkeys don’t know you’ve just arrived.
The gobblers don’t run towards the hens, the hens go towards the gobblers. Is that so? If this is true, and I have heard this all my turkey hunting life, maybe someone could explain to me why every spring tens of thousands of engulfing turkeys are called out with a hen cry and a ball. This is the mating time for the turkey people. These birds, unless otherwise occupied, come close when they hear calls. Some of you older married men might remember what it was like, maybe not.
You can’t call it a turkey descent. Boy, there’s one that’s got a lot of foam on it. Do we want to settle on a turkey where we are upstream of it? Is it generally a better position? Would the gobbler prefer to rise to our vocation? Amen to all of the above, but turkeys go pretty well anywhere they want. The turkeys never read all those books that say he won’t come down the hill. At the end of the line? If you can’t move and need to call it downhill, do so. Either he will come to you or he will not come, it’s turkey hunting.
You can’t call the gobblers away from the hens. I would say that’s true most of the time, but not always true. When a gobbler has a harem of several girlfriends around him, it is true that it is difficult to recall him. (I mean really, can you blame him?) It does happen though, and I usually think you’ve got to lose? Sometimes excited, a fiery call will bring you the hens, the gobbler follows them and he is led to his demise. (Can any of you understand this?)
Okay I can see we’re not going to cover all the fables we needed, maybe we’ll have to do it again. Some of you old turkey hunters don’t blame me for bringing these things to light. We still have a lot of old secrets to hide from children.
—Larryocase3 @ gmail.com