Writer’s most memorable turkey hunts ended without shot fired
It’s March now, and spring is on the way. We can soon look forward to blooming dogwoods, spawning crappie and to the thunderous gobbles of turkeys, resounding through the woods.
Ever since I was introduced to turkey hunting 25 years ago, nothing has signaled the arrival of spring more than hearing a gobbler bellow his morning call at sunrise.
My late friend Boyd Burrow was so impassioned by the sound that he spent most of his February, March and April mornings driving somewhere just to hear one gobble.
“Nothing makes me feel more alive and closer to God than hearing a turkey gobble,” he’d say.
Turkey hunters everywhere understand what he meant. Taking a bird doesn’t define success. Turkey hunters also know that there is much more to turkey hunting than the harvest of a magnum gobbler, although I must admit that there is nothing quite like having a big bird come strutting into gun range, drumming with his tremendous power and gobbling enough to shake the trees.
But those moments are rare, yet turkey hunters rarely leave the woods disappointed. I have great memories of past turkey hunts, the vast majority of which passed without ever seeing a gobbler.
I can’t remember many when I didn’t at least hear one gobble, and just hearing one was usually enough to make the day successful. As a matter of fact, three of my favorite hunts all involve outings where I never had a chance to take a bird.
No. 1 would have to be the morning that Tommy Sutton, Ken Lee and I opened a season together with a hunt near their homes in Columbia. We heard a hot gobbler, gobbling his head off down through the woods, and silently walked off down a logging trail in the pre-dawn darkness to set up on the bird.
We chose a spot just off the trail in a mixed stand of hardwoods and pines. Using hand signals, Sutton positioned us at the base of the trees, and we took our seats to await the rising sun. About five minutes later, we got the surprise of our lives when a group of nervous hens started making noises in the trees right above our heads.
We couldn’t help but look up, which of course sent the scared birds winging out of the trees in fear, with at least one or two using that moment to … uh, well … answer nature’s call. Yep, they pooped on us.
The gobbler shut up, never made another sound and probably went the direction the hens had flown.
No. 2 would be the morning that the late, great Tommy Bourne and I were hunting Osceola turkeys in south Florida and we had a big gobbler responding to calls. We knew he was coming closer to us but we couldn’t figure out why his gobbles kept sounding like he was still roosted. Finally, after about 30 minutes of puzzlement, I saw what was happening. The gobbler was coming to us, but he wasn’t walking.
He was flying from tree to tree, stopping on each one to strut and gobble on a limb. Another 30 minutes passed and the bird closed to within 50 yards, and was still staying in the trees.
He’d strut, he’d drum and he’d gobble, but he wouldn’t fly down. Of course, from his high vantage point, he had a perfect view of our position and it didn’t take him long to realize there was no hen in the area where the calls were coming from. He retreated the same way he had come, from tree, to tree, to tree …
No. 3 would be my first turkey hunt, which I was lucky enough to share with Mossy Oak camo founder Toxey Haas and a Mossy Oak staff member, the late and masterful caller Bob Dixon.
At first light that morning near West Point, Dixon let out a wonderful owl hoot and a gobbler erupted somewhere off in the lingering fog. We all three pointed in the direction we thought it came from — three different directions.
When we quit laughing, Dixon hooted again. Again we all three pointed in different directions, none in the same direction we’d originally pointed. Needless to say, that bird escaped killing.
Every turkey hunt is different, and usually each one is special in its own way. And even if you have a rare morning when you can’t find a single bird gobbling, you still have the pleasure of being surrounded by nature as it wakes up to greet the spring morning.
That in itself is enough to make each hunt and the entire turkey season great.
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