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Two weeks from today . . .


Deerthug
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I started hunting turkeys in the late 80's. I was hooked bad, and spent more energy, time, and effort, in trying to connect, than I can believe, looking back on it now. I finally shot my first one in 1992, a good sized jake with about a four inch beard. From that point on, I shot a good number of really nice toms.

 

But,  even more exciting than shooting a gobbler, for me, was the morning after morning of close calls. Being busted, toms sneaking in behind me so close I could hear that.......... fittt fitt bizzzzz sound of a tom puffing up, vibrating and strutting, and my thinking my heart would pound out of my chest, wanting to turn my head........just a little...and waiting to hear that all to familiar...putt putt putt and then running in the opposite way, which meant I just got busted again.  

 

Or, sneaking in, in the dark, and when it got light enough to see, find myself sitting up against the very tree they were roosted in, and watching the turkeys waking up, figgiting in the tree, wobbling about looking like they were going to tip over and fall out, and craning their neck about scanning the floor of the woodlot, before they finally one after the other just sort of fell into a glide down from the tree tops, to the ground. 

 

Back then, my woods were full of turkeys, and the whole hillside would echo with gobbles. I was much younger, my life was much simpler, my kids were small, my wife excitedly pulling for me to "get one". Getting up in the morning was a breeze, and I didn't ache when I got out of bed.....lol.  

 

Unfortunately, it didn't take long before everyone in the area and from outside, began to see my little woodlot as the premier place to hunt, and worthy of getting yelled at some from me for trespassing, to get to take a whack at one of the gobblers. A few close calls with pellets raining down on me from above, as neighbors shooting at turkeys still roosted, sky lined on my property, with me below, was the beginning of the end for me. And, then the trespassing got out of hand, where it was more work to hunt hunters than turkeys, or have guys come stalking me as I called, or flushed turkeys from their roost as they bumbled into my woods, after I had been sitting for a hour already. 

 

Over the years, turkey hunting sadly became more of a hassle, getting out of bed became an effort both mentally, and while I hate to admit it, physically.  I like to think that someday the fire will reignite, but for now, it is but a small dying ember.

 

Good luck to those still ablaze with the turkey hunting fever. I hope you all connect with your best turkey yet, and be safe. 

 

 

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Holy Cow NYH...be careful you'll be accused of sounding like me!!...lol

 

I so do understand where your coming from...I've been fortunate in when things slowed at camp...it picked up here at home. Now this year...I believe, maybe a I was skunked or just Jakes show up type of year...I try to avoid shooting Jakes...lots of dropping but only two gobbles....some tracks and a couple of roosting trees but not where I normally hunt...I think the logging last fall on three places that border me...two being near my best spot... has changed travel roosting patterns...We'll see

 

I'm making a trip to camp to check things out....Even if I see no birds I get a kick out of ambushing the trespassers... hide the vehicle from sight and sit not far from the road...I occasionally work at calling them in...driving real slow listening...I'll call and watch as they stop the truck..think on it and then step out...I wait until they cross the ditch and step on to the land ...then yell out ...Do you want to be arrested?!!..It's funny how fast they can move...even some of the older guys...Ya know as frustrating as it is.....you have to find ways to to make your self laugh about it...There are two species of "turkey" that we have in NY ;)

Edited by growalot
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