hawglips
Old Mossy Horns
What a sport this Turkey hunting thing is. You just never know what you’re going to encounter on any given day in the turkey woods. I had the opportunity to hunt three other states this season, and here is how my OOS season went down for me.
GA
I debated not going to Georgia at all this year, because each year has been worse than the preceding year for several years running now. But the itch is always there in late March, and this year was no different, so I gave it another go at the usual place in Hancock County.
Not much to report about this hunt- It was a one-day hunt and the only bird I encountered was a gobbler off the property, that got shot later in the morning. But I worked it over really good, and gave it the old college try. Just aren’t many birds around that area anymore.
I guess I’m going to have to find another place for late March....
VA
On opening day in Virginia I didn’t hear anything on the roost. However about 30 minutes after fly down I heard a gobble way off in the distance, and was able to call the gobbler to me from very far away. It was a classic hunt. He gobbled all the way in, and I got set up just right. As he came in strutting, in range, I put my gun on him to track him to an opening where I planned on killing him.
I was hunting with a new gun, an Ithaca model 37 twenty eight gauge pump. I killed one turkey with that gun last year, so it wasn’t brand new to me. However it has a much lighter trigger than what I’m used to.
So as I put the gun on him to track him, I didn’t have my head down or anything because I wasn’t ready to aim just yet. However, it shocked me to hear my gun go off. I could not believe what had happened. How careless can one be-especially someone with as much experience with different guns.
The bird jumped up and ran off putting. I sat there in disbelief for a few minutes and decided I needed a change of scenery. So, I slipped across the border into North Carolina and killed a bird there in my favorite Northampton afternoon spot. But I’ve already written about that one, so I won’t write it again.
The next Saturday, I went back to Virginia again because I had already limited out in North Carolina on my first two hunts there, and got my grandson a bird Friday after school. To make a long story short, I was hunting with a good friend, but we never got to work a bird on our property. We did call in three Jakes which we passed on, but that was about all the action we had.
My third hunt in Virginia on the following Saturday was an experience of covering many miles around the properties but hearing nothing and seeing very little sign. I was glad to see noon come around because I was totally wore out.
The last hunt in Virginia on the following Saturday resulted in me hearing nothing on the roost once again, but was able to find a gobbling bird a couple hours after fly down time. He was on the other side of a creek, and I strategically crossed the creek in order to increase my chances of getting him to come to me. However, as I was sitting down I heard the dreaded putt. It was a male bird putt, and after he started putting a second bird started putting. Well, both birds ended up flying into a tree to look at me and continue their putting while the gobbling bird further away went completely silent, of course. A crow flew by very close to one of the birds and cawed, which caused the putting bird in the tree to gobble at him. Well, I knew that jig was up so I got up to flush the bird out of the tree in hopes that given a little bit of time the gobbling bird would be workable once again. So I Flushed both birds out of the tree, waited about 15 minutes and started calling to the formerly gobbling bird once again. To make a long story short I never heard from him again, and noon came so I had to quit.
To rub salt in the wound, as I was driving out through a nearby property, a gobbler with about what looked like a 12 inch beard walked across the road about 10 yards in front of me- 15 minutes after legal shooting time.
And that was how my Virginia season went. Sometimes you are the windshield and sometimes you are the bug.
UT
On day one in Utah we went to my favorite place to hunt in the world. The scenery is spectacular and the wildness of it makes it extra special. There are no signs of humans except for the occasional plane that flies over.
My brother had told me that the birds were acting funny this year, with no explanation of why that might be. His guess was that due to the mild, dry winter that the breeding had started earlier than normal this year, which was influencing the receptivity of the gobblers to calls.
In any event, my brother heard one gobbler on the roost and I heard another one across to the next side of the canyon. So we went after the closest bird first, who quit gobbling as soon as we got close to him. And then the next time he would gobble he was further away. So we decided to leave the walk away bird and go try the one that I had heard gobbling earlier that morning.
It took about 20 minutes to get to the other side, and as we approached we could see the birds in the distance. We could not tell that there were any gobblers at all in that group, and no bird was strutting.
In any event we called to those birds and it was like there was a force field around us because they would head away to avoid as when we called.
We hunted the area very thoroughly all morning and into the early afternoon, and discussed our strategy for the unsociable birds the next day. We decided to build a blind out of natural materials near where the birds headed when they flew down from the roost, because in previous years they had followed the same routine. So we built the blind and walked out.
As we were walking up the mountain we called and did get a hen to answer us. She made the full gamut of calls including lots of Kee Kee runs, which was pretty cool. We got her to come in and got the only interesting video footage of the entire week. We also encountered another group of birds on the way up. I saw them through the brush and could tell there were two Jakes and a hen. We called to watch their reaction, and sure enough as we would call, the hen would turn and leave the other direction taking the Jakes away with her.
It was troubling enough to see birds avoid the calls, but doubly troubling to see Jakes and not toms with the hens. Where were the toms?
The next morning we were in the blind we built the previous day and sure enough a bird gobbled on the roost right where he gobbled the previous day. The bad news is, from that distance we could tell it was most likely a Jake that was gobbling. So that would explain why we did not see any strutting birds in that group the day before. But we could not be sure what was with them so we stayed there and called.
Well, calling was a mistake. Because true to the pattern that was developing on day one, instead of going to the place we expected them to go they went in the opposite direction across the other side of the canyon to avoid us.
As we were figuring out our next move, we were surprised to hear a gobble from a mature bird in the other direction. So our hopes soared that we had a chance on a fresh bird. We moved a little bit closer to him and began to call.
Once again, calling proved to be a mistake. The next time we heard him gobble he had gone up the side of the mountain to skirt around us.
Our next move was to think about how to get on the other group of birds that had crossed the canyon. We began a strategic move on them, only to hear the mature gobbling bird back closer to us once again. Once we had quit calling he had decided to come back the way he was coming originally. So this time, I moved up closer to him while my brother backed way off and did some calling from back there.
Well, you would think we would have learned our lesson by now, but turkey hunting with no calling is not very fun. And yes, sure enough, the bird stopped coming our way, and made a big loop around to the other group that now was heading his direction. You could tell they were familiar with each other as they called back-and-forth and finally got together on the other side of the canyon. It was an interesting learning experience.
So, licking our wounds, we decided to outsmart the turkeys. After all, we are smart human turkey hunters, and they are the dumb prey animals. Our brains are big, and theirs are very small. Right? So with our big brains We decided that my brother and I would separate. He would call from a long distance away trying to get the bird to gobble so that I could keep the group located. And I would bushwhack him if possible.
To make that frustrating exercise in futility into a short story, my brother was able to keep him gobbling every once in a while, and I was able to get close enough to see him and came close to bushwhacking him, but once again, no cigar. There were just too many turkey eyes to have to try to avoid.
After that, we made our way on the four wheeler to an area that my brother had killed a bird in a couple weeks earlier, we walked and called and scouted till we were very tired. It was very steep and thick in there, with beaver ponds, drake mallards, and lots of elk sign. We saw some pretty wildflowers, a little turkey sign, And an elk antler,but that was about it.
Getting mad at the Turkeys, we went home for break and decided to go into a totally new area late that afternoon in hopes that somewhere there were turkeys that would not run from the Call. So that’s what we did.
GA
I debated not going to Georgia at all this year, because each year has been worse than the preceding year for several years running now. But the itch is always there in late March, and this year was no different, so I gave it another go at the usual place in Hancock County.
Not much to report about this hunt- It was a one-day hunt and the only bird I encountered was a gobbler off the property, that got shot later in the morning. But I worked it over really good, and gave it the old college try. Just aren’t many birds around that area anymore.
I guess I’m going to have to find another place for late March....
VA
On opening day in Virginia I didn’t hear anything on the roost. However about 30 minutes after fly down I heard a gobble way off in the distance, and was able to call the gobbler to me from very far away. It was a classic hunt. He gobbled all the way in, and I got set up just right. As he came in strutting, in range, I put my gun on him to track him to an opening where I planned on killing him.
I was hunting with a new gun, an Ithaca model 37 twenty eight gauge pump. I killed one turkey with that gun last year, so it wasn’t brand new to me. However it has a much lighter trigger than what I’m used to.
So as I put the gun on him to track him, I didn’t have my head down or anything because I wasn’t ready to aim just yet. However, it shocked me to hear my gun go off. I could not believe what had happened. How careless can one be-especially someone with as much experience with different guns.
The bird jumped up and ran off putting. I sat there in disbelief for a few minutes and decided I needed a change of scenery. So, I slipped across the border into North Carolina and killed a bird there in my favorite Northampton afternoon spot. But I’ve already written about that one, so I won’t write it again.
The next Saturday, I went back to Virginia again because I had already limited out in North Carolina on my first two hunts there, and got my grandson a bird Friday after school. To make a long story short, I was hunting with a good friend, but we never got to work a bird on our property. We did call in three Jakes which we passed on, but that was about all the action we had.
My third hunt in Virginia on the following Saturday was an experience of covering many miles around the properties but hearing nothing and seeing very little sign. I was glad to see noon come around because I was totally wore out.
The last hunt in Virginia on the following Saturday resulted in me hearing nothing on the roost once again, but was able to find a gobbling bird a couple hours after fly down time. He was on the other side of a creek, and I strategically crossed the creek in order to increase my chances of getting him to come to me. However, as I was sitting down I heard the dreaded putt. It was a male bird putt, and after he started putting a second bird started putting. Well, both birds ended up flying into a tree to look at me and continue their putting while the gobbling bird further away went completely silent, of course. A crow flew by very close to one of the birds and cawed, which caused the putting bird in the tree to gobble at him. Well, I knew that jig was up so I got up to flush the bird out of the tree in hopes that given a little bit of time the gobbling bird would be workable once again. So I Flushed both birds out of the tree, waited about 15 minutes and started calling to the formerly gobbling bird once again. To make a long story short I never heard from him again, and noon came so I had to quit.
To rub salt in the wound, as I was driving out through a nearby property, a gobbler with about what looked like a 12 inch beard walked across the road about 10 yards in front of me- 15 minutes after legal shooting time.
And that was how my Virginia season went. Sometimes you are the windshield and sometimes you are the bug.
UT
On day one in Utah we went to my favorite place to hunt in the world. The scenery is spectacular and the wildness of it makes it extra special. There are no signs of humans except for the occasional plane that flies over.
My brother had told me that the birds were acting funny this year, with no explanation of why that might be. His guess was that due to the mild, dry winter that the breeding had started earlier than normal this year, which was influencing the receptivity of the gobblers to calls.
In any event, my brother heard one gobbler on the roost and I heard another one across to the next side of the canyon. So we went after the closest bird first, who quit gobbling as soon as we got close to him. And then the next time he would gobble he was further away. So we decided to leave the walk away bird and go try the one that I had heard gobbling earlier that morning.
It took about 20 minutes to get to the other side, and as we approached we could see the birds in the distance. We could not tell that there were any gobblers at all in that group, and no bird was strutting.
In any event we called to those birds and it was like there was a force field around us because they would head away to avoid as when we called.
We hunted the area very thoroughly all morning and into the early afternoon, and discussed our strategy for the unsociable birds the next day. We decided to build a blind out of natural materials near where the birds headed when they flew down from the roost, because in previous years they had followed the same routine. So we built the blind and walked out.
As we were walking up the mountain we called and did get a hen to answer us. She made the full gamut of calls including lots of Kee Kee runs, which was pretty cool. We got her to come in and got the only interesting video footage of the entire week. We also encountered another group of birds on the way up. I saw them through the brush and could tell there were two Jakes and a hen. We called to watch their reaction, and sure enough as we would call, the hen would turn and leave the other direction taking the Jakes away with her.
It was troubling enough to see birds avoid the calls, but doubly troubling to see Jakes and not toms with the hens. Where were the toms?
The next morning we were in the blind we built the previous day and sure enough a bird gobbled on the roost right where he gobbled the previous day. The bad news is, from that distance we could tell it was most likely a Jake that was gobbling. So that would explain why we did not see any strutting birds in that group the day before. But we could not be sure what was with them so we stayed there and called.
Well, calling was a mistake. Because true to the pattern that was developing on day one, instead of going to the place we expected them to go they went in the opposite direction across the other side of the canyon to avoid us.
As we were figuring out our next move, we were surprised to hear a gobble from a mature bird in the other direction. So our hopes soared that we had a chance on a fresh bird. We moved a little bit closer to him and began to call.
Once again, calling proved to be a mistake. The next time we heard him gobble he had gone up the side of the mountain to skirt around us.
Our next move was to think about how to get on the other group of birds that had crossed the canyon. We began a strategic move on them, only to hear the mature gobbling bird back closer to us once again. Once we had quit calling he had decided to come back the way he was coming originally. So this time, I moved up closer to him while my brother backed way off and did some calling from back there.
Well, you would think we would have learned our lesson by now, but turkey hunting with no calling is not very fun. And yes, sure enough, the bird stopped coming our way, and made a big loop around to the other group that now was heading his direction. You could tell they were familiar with each other as they called back-and-forth and finally got together on the other side of the canyon. It was an interesting learning experience.
So, licking our wounds, we decided to outsmart the turkeys. After all, we are smart human turkey hunters, and they are the dumb prey animals. Our brains are big, and theirs are very small. Right? So with our big brains We decided that my brother and I would separate. He would call from a long distance away trying to get the bird to gobble so that I could keep the group located. And I would bushwhack him if possible.
To make that frustrating exercise in futility into a short story, my brother was able to keep him gobbling every once in a while, and I was able to get close enough to see him and came close to bushwhacking him, but once again, no cigar. There were just too many turkey eyes to have to try to avoid.
After that, we made our way on the four wheeler to an area that my brother had killed a bird in a couple weeks earlier, we walked and called and scouted till we were very tired. It was very steep and thick in there, with beaver ponds, drake mallards, and lots of elk sign. We saw some pretty wildflowers, a little turkey sign, And an elk antler,but that was about it.
Getting mad at the Turkeys, we went home for break and decided to go into a totally new area late that afternoon in hopes that somewhere there were turkeys that would not run from the Call. So that’s what we did.
Last edited:
