Larry A. Smail's Blog

   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.