It’s hard to believe it’s already time for the April edition of the CRC. Turkey hunting season begins the second Saturday of this month. I’m running out of turkey stories, but I have one more that might be of interest to hunters that are itching to get in the woods. I have only tagged two turkeys in a single year one time in all my years of turkey hunting.
The first gobbler I tagged was on Buck Lick Ridge in the Slate Lick Hollow area, It was sometime during the first week of turkey season. I parked in Buck Lick Hollow and walked an old grown-up clearcut road to the top of the ridge. From there I would listen for gobblers and slowly work my way back over the top of the ridge for the rest of the morning hunt. Unfortunately, there were two other hunters that had the same idea. They were ahead of me on the ridge. Not good. They would have first dibs on any gobbler that would make its presence known. A bit discouraged, I decided to stick with my original plan and maybe locate a gobbler for another day’s hunt.
After waiting awhile, I slowly worked my way back over the top of the ridge until I came to a small flat. I gave a few yelps with my mouth call and got an immediate answer from a gobbler close by in Buck Lick Hollow. Somewhat surprised, I set-up beside a nearby tree and gave another call. Another even closer gobble and I knew he was coming in. It wasn’t long until I saw movement. A few minutes later I could see a white head bobbing through the undergrowth. Boom!! The old double barrel did its job, and I had my boot on the neck of a nice gobbler. Lesson learned. Don’t get discouraged just because there are other hunters in the area.
The second gobbler wasn’t as easy. A little later on in the season, I parked at the handicapped gate in Buck Lick Hollow and followed the road to the top of the ridge. From there I usually walk to the right and follow a path to a high point on the ridge, but this time I followed the clearcut road to the left. I eased down the road, stopping often to listen and call along the way until it transitioned into open woods. I hadn’t gone very far into the woods until I heard a gobble! The gobbler was up ahead of me in some smaller ridges leading down into the main hollow.
Another gobble and I had a better idea of the gobbler’s location. I walked down the north side of the ridge. The ridge was thick with laurel, but I was able to find a spot to set-up with a limited field of vision. I gave a few yelps with my mouth call and got an immediate response on the ridge across from me. I waited. The next gobble was further away. This went on for a while, and I realized he was moving around but wasn’t coming any closer. I decided to make a move to a spot lower on the ridge he was on. Same result. The gobbler would respond but would not come in. And even though he was fairly close I couldn’t figure out exactly where he was in the thick undergrowth. I decided to move even lower and back to the ridge where I had started.
By then I was getting down to where I could see the bottom of the main hollow. Now it made sense. The gobbler wasn’t in the ridges but was strutting back and forth alongside Buck Lick Run. But how could I get close enough to get a shot? The ridge I was on ended with a steep drop-off down to the creek. I couldn’t get any closer without causing a ruckus and spooking the bird. The last time the bird gobbled he was very close.
I waited until he gobbled at the furthest point of his strut zone and found a place to set-up at the very edge of the drop-off to the creek and waited. It wasn’t long until I saw movement below me followed by a loud gobble, but there was no clear shot available. This was as good as it gets. I had not made any calls for a while as I was getting into position. I waited until he gobbled at a distance and gave a few yelps with a cackle and hoped the gobbler would come back close enough for a shot. Sure enough his next gobble was closer. I was ready with the double barrel in position and the safety off. Movement along the creek bed, and I could see the white head. He worked his way closer. Boom!! I scrambled down the bank, splashed through the creek, and put a boot on his neck.
Excellent!! I had bagged my second longbeard of the season and was feeling the adrenaline rush of a successful hunt. There was only one downside. The gobbler had expired in a shallow pool of water beside the creek. Not only had it flopped water all over me, but all its feathers were soaked. A wild turkey close up is a colorful bird with its iridescent feathers and red, white and blue head. This long, skinny, black carcass looked like I had dunked it in hot water, ready for a good plucking. Not a good look to show off to friends for bragging rights.
Regardless, I still have the memory of the hunt (and the beard and spurs) to this day.
