By Daryl Bauer, Fisheries Outreach Program Manager
Spring is a great time in Nebraska. I would have to say that spring is one of my top four favorite seasons. Between fishing, turkey hunting and mushroom picking, there is not nearly enough time to get it all done each spring.
Who does not love the sprouting of leaves, greening of grass, blooming of flowers, and singing of birds. Ah, the singing of birds, especially the turkeys!
In a recent blog, I teased that I had been indulging my annual addiction of spring turkey hunting. Scouting started weeks ago. Recent trips have included the ole 16 gauge in hand and a tag in my pocket.
On recent hunts, the fragrance of wild plum blooms has drifted through my rolled-down pickup windows. Everywhere in the countryside that scent has been present. Just another reason to love this time of year.
But, this is not a blog about blooming flowers and pretty sunsets like one might expect after an unsuccessful trip. Nope, this one ended with a tom taking a ride home with me.
Learned a long time ago that a person cannot do anything about the weather. You can fret and complain about it, but that ain’t going to change a thing. In addition, if you wait for the perfect day, perfect weather, to hunt or fish in Nebraska, well, then you will have a lot of days you will NOT be on the water or in the field. You gotta make the best of the weather you are dealt.
I ventured out on an afternoon-evening hunt on another windy day. Yep, wind gusts well over 25 mph. Again, with my theme of scouting being THE key to being successful, I knew a spot where birds like to hang out when the wind is blowing. I snuck in there, pitched out a jake and hen decoy and settled back against a cedar tree to see what would happen.
Believing that box calls cast sound better than other calls in windy conditions, I pulled my Dick Turpin box call out of my vest. There are only two box calls that ever ride in my turkey vest. One is my dad’s old Lynch box call. The other is my Dick Turpin box. It was a gift one Christmas from my mother. After Dick’s passing, I used his box call on turkey hunts last spring. However, I am never fixed on using one particular call, I usually use several. That box was used when I clobbered my second tom last spring, but so were several other calls.
This time I decided to use the Turpin box call exclusively.
I would call occasionally, then sit and watch the wind blow. After an hour, had not seen nor heard a thing other than a couple of male cardinals. Neither one of them had a beard.
Glanced up and saw a turkey just over the crest of a rise in the corn stubble a hundred-some yards west of me. Looking through the binocs, I was relatively sure it was a tom.
Picked up the box call and stroked out a yelp.
He paused. He heard me; gobbled back. Could barely hear him in the wind. He started walking to the south again.
I watched, expecting he might be following a hen I could not see and would keep walking. Could not spot him, but shortly there was another gobble. I could tell this one was aimed in my direction.
Game on!
Quickly, I slipped in a mouth call, and swiveled my seat so I was facing in the best way. Soon, I could see him slowly walking in towards me. Stroked another soft yelp on the box which prompted another gobble and a quick strut.
From there it was a slow march my direction. Tom would pause now and then to strut. I never touched the box call again.
As he got to the edge of the field and started into the trees, he would stop and look hard for the “hen” he had heard. Tom was in range by this time, but I let him come.
I believe then he spotted the decoys, turned to walk around a large hedgeapple tree. Told myself to wait until he dipped under the old barbed-wire fence.
He did. I “putted” on the mouth call. Tom stopped, craning his neck. The shotgun barked and the tag was punched.
Twenty paces, beard just a freckle short of 10 inches–one of the longer beards I have seen on my gobblers. Two-year old with spurs of a freckle more than 3/4 inches, 21.3 pounds. Nice bird!
Spring ain’t over by a long shot, and I am not sure I have had my fill of turkey hunting yet. Stay tuned. . . .