So far, my turkey season looks a lot like last year's, but with one notable difference.
Last year, I chased a single gobbler nearly the entire season. That bird was so elusive and so confounding that I nicknamed it "The Boss." I killed it three days before the season ended on a place I call "Boss Hill."
After a botched hunt on opening morning this season, I returned to Boss Hill in the afternoon to see if I could make some new magic. At least, I thought it was Boss Hill.
I haven't been there in a year, and these three knobs amid mature pines look a lot alike with identical landmarks. I set up on the second hill, but it didn't feel right. It didn't look right, either. As I gazed down the long, wide opening between the pine rows, I realized that Boss Hill was the next one over.
It didn't take long for turkeys to rub my face in the error.
About 4:30 p.m., a gobbler popped out of the pines into the opening on the south slope of Boss Hill, just like they often did last year. I blew a couple of soft yelps and some purrs with my mouth call, and the gobbler came running straight to me. When it hit the low spot between Boss Hill and the newly named Knucklehead Hill, the bird vanished from view. I shouldered my shotgun and rested the other end on my knee. When the bird reappeared, it would be about 10 steps from sure-kill range.
I never saw him again. A real hen waiting in a draw in the pines picked him off.
That steamed me a little, but I got over it about 30 minutes later when another gobbler popped into the opening. It responded to my calls by sprinting to me even faster than the first bird. He was so excited that he flapped his wings while he ran.
Again I shouldered my gun for a gobbler that never arrived. A hen picked him off, too.
If only I had been waiting on the other side of the pine row on Boss Hill, I would have had a gallery shot at either one of those birds.
I gave it a rest Sunday and got there well before sunrise Monday. I picked out the perfect hide, a spot a few yards into the pines that gave me clean views in both directions, and a clean view of a wide arc in front. A tree and a tangle of bushes obscured me from behind, and various limbs and vines broke my outline. I was also a few feet above the clearing that gave me a downward shooting angle.
I put two hen decoys in the clearing to distract a gobbler from looking to the fringe.
At least two different birds gobbled on the ground after flydown to the west. One was close enough that I probably should have moved to get in position to intercept it, but I'm not conditioned to hunt that way. I had a plan, and I was sticking to it.
My, what a peaceful day that was. Except for a short lunch break, I sat there and called all day without hearing or seeing another turkey.
Tuesday was the same. However, I visited a couple of other places where I either killed or worked gobblers in the past. I saw nothing to encourage me.
One thing is notably different than years past. In the mornings, birds always gobbled to the east of Boss Hill. This year, almost all of the gobbles I've heard have been to the west.
Loggers have thinned vast acreages of thickets in the past year, and that entire portion of our lease looks like a woodland food plot. It is awash in greenery, and I believe the turkeys spend most of their time on that part of the property.
Except for that one hour on opening day, Boss Hill isn't what it used to be. I'm going to have to ditch the game plan and start calling some audibles if I'm to avoid a shutout.
Sports on 04/23/2015