I pulled a permit to turkey hunt for a week at a management area about thirty minutes from my house. I figured that since it was so close and I had an understanding and fairly flexible boss, I could hunt in the morning, be gone by 9 and headed to work to work late. So, the weekend prior to my permit starting I decided I’d scout the property. Season was in but since I didn’t have a permit, I didn’t take a gun. That’s almost always ensures that I’ll see a turkey.
And I did. I had a hot gobbler the Sunday prior to my permit. He was in range (but again no gun) and he strutted and gobbled and drummed in front of me for over an hour. He gobbled at everything. Squirrels barking and hawks screaming and pigs squealing and sticks snapping and wood peckers pecking and little birds singing. Everything. He gobbled so much I was scared that a hunter with a permit was going to sneak in on him. But eventually he quieted down and then wandered off. After he was gone, I went in and made a blind and eagerly looked forward to the next morning.
But I was scouting and I had plenty of day left and so I continued on my way. I thought I’d drive around to the far side of the management area and drive that road back there and see how that side was doing, birdwise. I talked to the check station lady and then drove down and saw a gentleman sitting on the side of the road with his grandson while they waited on their buddies who were coming out of the woods. His 7 year old grandson had shot his first turkey. A beauty. We chatted about what we had seen and heard and he mentioned that there was a gobbler back that way that started gobbling around noon but he was too far back that they wouldn’t have been able to get onto him before it was time to quit. Most public land in FL, turkey ending time is 1pm.
I filed that little tidbit away and went on my way with many congratulations to his grandson. On the way home I noticed that overnight the atamasco lilies had begun blooming, and quite profusely. They tend to bloom right about Easter, and they weren’t disappointing me this year.
I was so excited for Monday morning. But I agonized over all the different things that could go “wrong”. Why he wouldn’t show up and strut his stuff for me. I had a rough time sleeping that night. I’d wake up every hour, sure that I had missed my alarm. Eventually I gave up and headed out to go to my blind and sit and wait for my gobbler.
When he started gobbling, I felt my heart drop. He was behind me a good ways. Back towards the truck. Well I figured I’d sit there and just wait on him to see if he’d come to strut here. He flew down and gobbled some and then wandered away.
I hate turkeys.
Not only did he wander away, he strutted RIGHT PAST MY TRUCK. Lordy was I aggravated with that monster. Damn turkeys just won’t do what I want them to do.
So I headed back out Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday. And I heard nothing. My gobbler was struck dumb. Someone must’ve stolen his gobble because he wouldn’t say anything. I knew he was still around. I was checking the fresh mud and seeing his tracks.
Man how I hate turkeys.
Friday was coming and feeling a little desperate because I had three days left on my permit and just a ghost gobbler to show for it, I decided I’d take the day off and go to the other side of the management area. Friday started out with thick soupy fog. The kind you can get turned around in pretty easily. I got out there and walked to a crossroad where I sat and just waited for it to get light and waited to hear what I could hear, see what I could see. Eventually I heard a gobble. It was behind me. I think? Perhaps? The fog made it difficult to tell direction, so I sat and waited some more.
Shortly I had a little she-coyote coming down the trail. Just trotting down the trail, minding her own business, sniffing at interesting smells. She got about twenty feet from me and she turned tail and hauled butt.
Still I waited.
Eventually fog burned off enough that I decided I’d just go for a walk. So I walked slowly, stopping to listen. Wouldn’t you know it. A turkey sounded off. Back the way I had come from, though much further back.
Damn turkeys.
I headed that way, couldn’t get him to gobble again, so I did some more exploring. I thought maybe I’d get lucky. Friday ended and I had me another ghost gobbler. I didn’t know what else to do. I talked with Steve and he told me what he’d do, and that was go back first thing in the morning to where I thought the gobbler might’ve been and then when he sounds off try to get in as close as possible.
So, that’s what I did. I went back, stood on the edge of the tree line on the trail, looking like another tree and listened. A few minutes later that little she coyote came trotting down the trail, minding her own business and sniffing interesting things on the trail. This time she got within six feet of me before she burned rubber in getting out of there. And still I waited. Eventually I heard a gobbler. Go figure. It was behind me in the direction that I had sat yesterday.
Freaking turkeys.
So, off I went in search of that gobble. I walked until I came to a crossroad and unsure on if I should go left or right I just stopped and listened. I only had to wait about a minute before I heard a gobble again, far offish but still a gobble. To the right I went. I came to a clearing and not wanting to potentially scare a gobbler I got my call out and called. I got a response way off to the left from a gobbler in the woods. I didn’t think it was the same one I’d heard from the crossroad, but what do I know? Off I went in search of it. He gobbled again of his own accord and he was further away. No way was I going to catch him. So I headed back to the clearing to sit and listen.
I didn’t have long to wait when I heard a BOOM.
Which brought much muttering and still I sat and waited. After perhaps five minutes, off to the right of the clearing, I heard a gobble. Far off, but still a gobble. Still I sat. I didn’t know if I’d be chasing yet another bird that I’d have no hopes of catching up to. He gobbled again a few minutes later. He didn’t sound closer, but he didn’t sound further away either so I picked up my pack and off I headed down the trail to find him.
I followed different trails until I came to a point where if I continued on the trail I’d be going away from him. I was right there on the edge of the hardwoods swamp and the pine flats. Not wanting to go in until I had some clue where he might be, I called. I got a response. Still kinda far away but closer. But was he closer because I’d gotten so much closer? He was coming to me? A little of both? So, into the hardwoods I went.
I walked about 100 yards and called again. I didn’t want to inadvertently stumble upon him and blow my chance. He responded off to my left. Close enough I felt that continuing on could be bad so I sat down and waited and listened. I was hearing nothing. I sat a few minutes and called again. He gobbled back at me, but now he was to the right of me and going away.
Lordy how I hate turkeys.
I sat a couple more minutes and called again and he responded. Hmmmmmmm not further away. Not closer. Let’s see if I can get to him. So as quietly as I could (which I imagine is more like the noise a bull in a china shop might make) I waded through the palmettos that were between him and me, sure that my heart was beating louder than the noise I was making going through the palmettos. Oh how I didn’t want to screw this up. I came to a small stand of sporadic saplings and palmettos and then on the other side of that was a clearing…perhaps from a dried up pond in the middle of the woods. I didn’t want to step out into it. He could see me easily. So I called.
And my heart kicked it up a notch, I dropped my slate and striker, sat down where I stood and got the gun ready all in a heartbeat. He was close enough I could FEEL his gobble in my chest. I could hear him drumming. I knew he was off to my right. There were trees and palmettos and bushes between him and me but there was enough open space that I could see through it some. But I was having a hard time pin pointing the drumming. I wasn’t going to call again. Eventually some movement caught my eye and I saw him blow up to strut and then slick down to take a few steps. At that point not only was I trying to get my heart to slow down, I had to remember to breathe.
He’d strut and drum then walk a few steps. Sometimes I’d see all of his lovely self, sometimes all I’d see was a part of him. He’d walk in and out of view as he stepped behind various objects. Every time he did that, I had a momentary sense of panic that he was going to disappear on me. Which made breathing even more difficult. Staying still was incredibly difficult. I don’t know if behind me there were little bushes or not that were shaking as I was when I couldn’t stop the shakes from happening. Breathe deeeeeeeeeeeeeeep I told myself. REEEEEEEEEELLLAAAAAXXXXXXXXX.
Where I had sat, I had a clear shooting lane into the clearing. A narrow one, but still unobstructed. There was plenty of “stuff” between him and me from the direction he was coming that I wasn’t worried about him spooking at me but I knew that when he stepped into my lane, he’d see me….this big blob with a black stick…and while I doubted he’d haul butt, I figured he wouldn’t like what he saw and would go away. And I was sure he should’ve been able to hear my heart thudding.
I’m sure from the time I first saw him blow up into a strut to the time he stepped into my clearing it couldn’t have taken two or three minutes for him to get to me. It felt like an eternity. But finally I had a turkey do what I wanted it to do.
Lordy I do love turkeys.
Happy Easter y’all
Dani
And I did. I had a hot gobbler the Sunday prior to my permit. He was in range (but again no gun) and he strutted and gobbled and drummed in front of me for over an hour. He gobbled at everything. Squirrels barking and hawks screaming and pigs squealing and sticks snapping and wood peckers pecking and little birds singing. Everything. He gobbled so much I was scared that a hunter with a permit was going to sneak in on him. But eventually he quieted down and then wandered off. After he was gone, I went in and made a blind and eagerly looked forward to the next morning.
But I was scouting and I had plenty of day left and so I continued on my way. I thought I’d drive around to the far side of the management area and drive that road back there and see how that side was doing, birdwise. I talked to the check station lady and then drove down and saw a gentleman sitting on the side of the road with his grandson while they waited on their buddies who were coming out of the woods. His 7 year old grandson had shot his first turkey. A beauty. We chatted about what we had seen and heard and he mentioned that there was a gobbler back that way that started gobbling around noon but he was too far back that they wouldn’t have been able to get onto him before it was time to quit. Most public land in FL, turkey ending time is 1pm.
I filed that little tidbit away and went on my way with many congratulations to his grandson. On the way home I noticed that overnight the atamasco lilies had begun blooming, and quite profusely. They tend to bloom right about Easter, and they weren’t disappointing me this year.
I was so excited for Monday morning. But I agonized over all the different things that could go “wrong”. Why he wouldn’t show up and strut his stuff for me. I had a rough time sleeping that night. I’d wake up every hour, sure that I had missed my alarm. Eventually I gave up and headed out to go to my blind and sit and wait for my gobbler.
When he started gobbling, I felt my heart drop. He was behind me a good ways. Back towards the truck. Well I figured I’d sit there and just wait on him to see if he’d come to strut here. He flew down and gobbled some and then wandered away.
I hate turkeys.
Not only did he wander away, he strutted RIGHT PAST MY TRUCK. Lordy was I aggravated with that monster. Damn turkeys just won’t do what I want them to do.
So I headed back out Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday. And I heard nothing. My gobbler was struck dumb. Someone must’ve stolen his gobble because he wouldn’t say anything. I knew he was still around. I was checking the fresh mud and seeing his tracks.
Man how I hate turkeys.
Friday was coming and feeling a little desperate because I had three days left on my permit and just a ghost gobbler to show for it, I decided I’d take the day off and go to the other side of the management area. Friday started out with thick soupy fog. The kind you can get turned around in pretty easily. I got out there and walked to a crossroad where I sat and just waited for it to get light and waited to hear what I could hear, see what I could see. Eventually I heard a gobble. It was behind me. I think? Perhaps? The fog made it difficult to tell direction, so I sat and waited some more.
Shortly I had a little she-coyote coming down the trail. Just trotting down the trail, minding her own business, sniffing at interesting smells. She got about twenty feet from me and she turned tail and hauled butt.
Still I waited.
Eventually fog burned off enough that I decided I’d just go for a walk. So I walked slowly, stopping to listen. Wouldn’t you know it. A turkey sounded off. Back the way I had come from, though much further back.
Damn turkeys.
I headed that way, couldn’t get him to gobble again, so I did some more exploring. I thought maybe I’d get lucky. Friday ended and I had me another ghost gobbler. I didn’t know what else to do. I talked with Steve and he told me what he’d do, and that was go back first thing in the morning to where I thought the gobbler might’ve been and then when he sounds off try to get in as close as possible.
So, that’s what I did. I went back, stood on the edge of the tree line on the trail, looking like another tree and listened. A few minutes later that little she coyote came trotting down the trail, minding her own business and sniffing interesting things on the trail. This time she got within six feet of me before she burned rubber in getting out of there. And still I waited. Eventually I heard a gobbler. Go figure. It was behind me in the direction that I had sat yesterday.
Freaking turkeys.
So, off I went in search of that gobble. I walked until I came to a crossroad and unsure on if I should go left or right I just stopped and listened. I only had to wait about a minute before I heard a gobble again, far offish but still a gobble. To the right I went. I came to a clearing and not wanting to potentially scare a gobbler I got my call out and called. I got a response way off to the left from a gobbler in the woods. I didn’t think it was the same one I’d heard from the crossroad, but what do I know? Off I went in search of it. He gobbled again of his own accord and he was further away. No way was I going to catch him. So I headed back to the clearing to sit and listen.
I didn’t have long to wait when I heard a BOOM.
Which brought much muttering and still I sat and waited. After perhaps five minutes, off to the right of the clearing, I heard a gobble. Far off, but still a gobble. Still I sat. I didn’t know if I’d be chasing yet another bird that I’d have no hopes of catching up to. He gobbled again a few minutes later. He didn’t sound closer, but he didn’t sound further away either so I picked up my pack and off I headed down the trail to find him.
I followed different trails until I came to a point where if I continued on the trail I’d be going away from him. I was right there on the edge of the hardwoods swamp and the pine flats. Not wanting to go in until I had some clue where he might be, I called. I got a response. Still kinda far away but closer. But was he closer because I’d gotten so much closer? He was coming to me? A little of both? So, into the hardwoods I went.
I walked about 100 yards and called again. I didn’t want to inadvertently stumble upon him and blow my chance. He responded off to my left. Close enough I felt that continuing on could be bad so I sat down and waited and listened. I was hearing nothing. I sat a few minutes and called again. He gobbled back at me, but now he was to the right of me and going away.
Lordy how I hate turkeys.
I sat a couple more minutes and called again and he responded. Hmmmmmmm not further away. Not closer. Let’s see if I can get to him. So as quietly as I could (which I imagine is more like the noise a bull in a china shop might make) I waded through the palmettos that were between him and me, sure that my heart was beating louder than the noise I was making going through the palmettos. Oh how I didn’t want to screw this up. I came to a small stand of sporadic saplings and palmettos and then on the other side of that was a clearing…perhaps from a dried up pond in the middle of the woods. I didn’t want to step out into it. He could see me easily. So I called.
And my heart kicked it up a notch, I dropped my slate and striker, sat down where I stood and got the gun ready all in a heartbeat. He was close enough I could FEEL his gobble in my chest. I could hear him drumming. I knew he was off to my right. There were trees and palmettos and bushes between him and me but there was enough open space that I could see through it some. But I was having a hard time pin pointing the drumming. I wasn’t going to call again. Eventually some movement caught my eye and I saw him blow up to strut and then slick down to take a few steps. At that point not only was I trying to get my heart to slow down, I had to remember to breathe.
He’d strut and drum then walk a few steps. Sometimes I’d see all of his lovely self, sometimes all I’d see was a part of him. He’d walk in and out of view as he stepped behind various objects. Every time he did that, I had a momentary sense of panic that he was going to disappear on me. Which made breathing even more difficult. Staying still was incredibly difficult. I don’t know if behind me there were little bushes or not that were shaking as I was when I couldn’t stop the shakes from happening. Breathe deeeeeeeeeeeeeeep I told myself. REEEEEEEEEELLLAAAAAXXXXXXXXX.
Where I had sat, I had a clear shooting lane into the clearing. A narrow one, but still unobstructed. There was plenty of “stuff” between him and me from the direction he was coming that I wasn’t worried about him spooking at me but I knew that when he stepped into my lane, he’d see me….this big blob with a black stick…and while I doubted he’d haul butt, I figured he wouldn’t like what he saw and would go away. And I was sure he should’ve been able to hear my heart thudding.
I’m sure from the time I first saw him blow up into a strut to the time he stepped into my clearing it couldn’t have taken two or three minutes for him to get to me. It felt like an eternity. But finally I had a turkey do what I wanted it to do.
Lordy I do love turkeys.
Happy Easter y’all
Dani
