Larry A. Smail's Blog

Yesterday, I moved to an area to listen for gobblers. The area is very difficult to hunt because  a roosting gobbler can see all around the open woods. Why this would be is due to the fact two small woodlots are divided by a right-a-way. The right-a-way yields to waist high grass. I have never been able to call a gobbler from one side of right-a-way to the other. Once daylight is on it is nearly impossible to sneak into the opposite woodlot.

I heard the first gobble at 5:28 A.M. and began moving to locate the bird. Eventually I was to about 70 yards, but the gobbler was on the other side. Should I try to sneak across? I decided to play the hand dealt this morning. I sat for three hours and the gobbler gobbled on and off during this time. After a pause in gobbling I called again and heard a distant tom sounding off. I assumed the gobbler was down from the roost and had moved away.

(I spooked a hen from the roost in the darker moments and later called her back in to me. I literally had to stand up to chase her away.)

Black and white pic.

  I went across the right-a-way and heard an answer down over the hill’s side along the reclaimed strip job. I set up and called and the gobbling seemed to get farther away. I stood up to move again and the sounds of wing beats exploded to my right. The gobbler was still in the tree. The gobblers below were jakes! I saw three. Had I not have heard that distant gobbler I would have stayed in place longer. Oh well I screwed up again. I know where I would be the next morning.

I went to another area about 10:30 and worked a bird for about an hour. I don’t what happened in this hunt, but he seemed to lose all interest.

This morning I left the jeep at 4:40 and arrived behind where the gobbler had roosted yesterday by 5:10. A quick mile long hike, but I made the jaunt in time. I heard a Barred Owl hooting off in the distance. The Bullfrogs were singling joyfully and a Whip-O-Will enjoyed the coolness of the pre-dawn day.

A far off gobbler to my right began gobbling. One began to gobble far off to my left. I was wondering if either of these birds were the gobbler from yesterday.  Suddenly he gobbled exactly where he had been at the previous morning. He may have been  less than a hundred yards from me. It felt good. I clucked and cutted some. I did only clucks as the morning progressed.

After  a time of silence he gobbled again and I could tell the big guy was down from the roost. My shotgun was leveled as I waited and watched. Finally after fifteen minutes I saw the gobbler and the thirty yard shot was true.

Jack-In the-Pulpit (Indian Turnip)

The gobbler weighed twenty pounds. He sported a ten and a half inch beard and each spur was one and an eighth inches long.

On the drive home I saw two hens being followed by three Jakes.

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Left to right: Galen Braddy; Kip Feroce; Me and Ken Crummett

The following evening while we all ate an evening meal a severe storm erupted. None of us gave a lot of thought of what may had happened at the place we were staying.

Kip Feroce of http://www.ferociouscalls. com  and Judge Galen Braddy of North Carolina    decided to head off to work for gobbler action at various places. I was going to help Ken Crummett of West Virginia to set up in a blind. As you may recall from the previous entry here of Ken’s two strokes and limitations. Just as the sky was showing a morning to be I decided to walk to where Ken’s blind was set up. The blind was gone! The winds pulled up the blind’s roots and I found it down over an embankment. The blind had two logs attached to it. The winds must have been very strong. I used a flashlight in my mouth to carry the blind and reset it before Ken’s walk over. I gave assistance to Ken as he struggled to walk. I went off around the hill to see what I could hear this morning.

Dawn had arrived and I wasn’t where I had hoped to be listening, but I still heard a tom gobbling around the slope. I worked above the turkey, but by the time I had set up and called he had flown way down over the steep side.  I went to work a long ridge to call and listen.

I was returning to check with Ken when I first heard the gobble. He was quite a distance away and I hurriedly tried to close the gap between the two of us. Once I arrived to where he had roosted I heard a lone gobble way down the hollow. I circled around the round top and checked with Ken. He was doing fine and had seen a jake and three hens. I told Ken I would be back later and was going to try to get close and arouse the gobbler.

          I worked down the slope and set to listen. I heard the gobble far down the hollow. I walked along the hill’s side to try to work above the turkey. Eventually, after stopping and listening and moving on I found myself high above the gobbler. I began to call a little more aggressively than earlier. He answered. I moved in on him several times before settling against a huge oak. I saw a

Apple blossoms

Fisher moving through the forest while I waited.

The bird went silent and I had the Remington 870 (Assault shotgun…sarcasm) in position and waited. Suddenly, he gobbled and much closer. The gobbling increased in intensity and soon I could seen the big bird.

The gobbler approached , stopped and gobbled while displaying his fanned tail. The big gobbler stayed in one place and finally he began moving upslope. He stopped to look for the unseen hen and at 38 paces he was mine.

The gobbler was heavy to carry up and over the steep country. The distance was close to three-fourths of a mile.

Unfortunately for Ken a jake was walking through the woods when it suddenly ran off. I entered the scene close to ten-o’clock and may have ruined Ken’s chance. I apologized, but Ken was ready to call the hunt a day and begin preparing for their trip home.

Eventually Kip and Galen arrived without success this morning. We said our goodbyes and off I went home to clean the turkey.

The gobbler weighed 22 pounds sporting a nine and three-fourth inch beard and each spur was one inch.

The turkey was the “icing on the cake.” Without the success this hunt was  still grandeur. A more beautiful morning is hard to come by. The temperature was comfortable and colors of the spring woods and the morning hues were perfect! Scarlet Tanagers were fluttering about. Deer and squirrels were all about. The forest was just perfect. What else can I say?

Juneberry or Serviceberry blossoms

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   One gobbler tends to be roosting along the side of a hill. His roosting trees seem to be covering several hundred yards. The one aspect troubling to a turkey hunter is the fact he seems to always go up and over the ridge line. That land is posted!

This morning I went into the woods much earlier. I was hoping to be able to get along the ridge below the posted line. Maybe the old boy might come to my calling before his usual jaunt. The full moon forced my plans to be slightly different. I worked a gas well road and entered onto a gas line. The full moon was shining directly along the length of the line I needed to walk to get towards the top. I chickened out and stayed low. I imagined the gobbler setting within view of the line.

The pre-daylight time was enjoyable. I heard a Whip-Or-Will doing his calling and I happened to stop my uphill approach right in the middle of a Woodcock territorial site. The bird would fly into the air and do his courtship sky-dance before settling back to the ground. he would land somewhere around 20-25 feet each time, but I never did see him.

A gobbler across the road and high on the opposite hill sounded off. I really wanted to go after him, but I sat tight hoping the local gobbler would be where I wanted to be this fine morning. He wasn’t! The turkey only gobbled five times in a well-spaced manner about 150 yards from me. I sat up and called, but could not get this bird fired up. I took after the earlier gobbler who was now quiet, too.

I walked all about the area and couldn’t muster a peep from the gobbler. Was he long gone? Could he even hear my calling?                                  

The temperatures were climbing fast and was now in the lower seventies. I was hot! As I approached the jeep, I managed to shock a gobbler back over on the posted property. I called and he answered. He started to gobble on his own. Could I get over into position before the turkey lost interest. The answer is…NO! The last gobble I heard was a bird way back into the posted line. From experience I know the gobbler’s tend to work way back to a point on the hill…mill around and work back in the afternoon. I aborted the hunt at ten o’clock especially after I had one of my coughing spells.

  Thursday morning I replicated the Wednesday morning’s plan of assault on a big gobbler. This time I went higher on the hill despite the chance to mess things up with a full moon shining brightly. The morning was suppose to be cloudy. I listened to the Woodcock mating ritual again.

A gobbler was a couple of hundred or more yards away as he boomed out a gobble, and only one. A second bird across the hollow and road gobbler about six times. I still had hopes of a gobbler near my set up site…NOTHING AT ALL!

I circled above and behind where I had heard the single gobble and received an answer to my calling. I set up to hunt the bird only to hear a hen with him. The  birds walked a flats until they entered a grassy cut area. I could later see them through the brush in this site. After some calls and a total lack of interest on their parts I began to walk and call elsewhere. I saw a hen.

About nine o’clock I was approaching the jeep to go to another location when a gobbler opened up exactly where I had been

Good morning

in the pre-dawn moments. I hurried to the gas line to try to locate his precise spot only to hear nothing with my approach. I called a little. Soon I could see the top of the fan on the gas line. I saw his head and the big bird turned into the woods. I moved and gobbled only to hear a gobble of thunder right above me but still out of site. I thought this is it! I heard a few clucks. Hens?

Moments past and the next gobble was way off. I circled around and called and he seemed interested for a time before the gobbling ceased. Later, I circled to get a response down over the hill. Moments later I had hens answer my calls. Two more gobbles and it was after eleven and the quitting time is noon.

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Skunk Cabbage

I heard three gobblers from my listening point this morning. Of course, one was in the posted property. The gobbling didn’t last very long for hens could be heard. I actually called a hen to the call early. She didn’t have any male suitors. I would later cross the hollow at a diagonally angle and work to the top of the hill. I called several times and received no answers. However, as I peaked across the flats I saw a gobbler and hen moving away from me. I hate when they don’t answer my calls.

I moved along a few areas to call and listen. (And nap) I did see a number of squirrels and deer. I left to check out a new place by  around nine thirty. I talked with my step-father a few minutes to tell him my plans.

I walked up a steep hillside to begin calling. I worked a ridge to no avail, but I searched for some morels at a few places I had found them in past springs.

I was moving up another steep hill along an old gas well path. This area had a lot of Multiflora Rose, but I have received action as I would call down over the back side. Suddenly, I saw two turkeys feeding.  I crouched immediately and set up. I didn’t have a great place due to the roses, but that was all I had to work with. The calling began. I flushed a hen and gobbler from the hill’s side.

The gobblers walked to with gun range. Now there were three. I assumed all were jakes, but I couldn’t see their beards in the vegetation. They looked around for fifteen minutes as I listened to another turkey walk about within the brush. It was a gobbler, too, although I never saw it. I couldn’t move as the bird walked back and forth. I heard coarse gobbler clucks a few times. Talk about nerve wracking’. After a while he moved on. I moved and set up to try to call him back. The time was 11:20.

Myrtle warbler

I saw a Myrtle warbler and he allowed some photos.

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