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By Ray Barnard
Here Turkey, Turkey, Turkey!
Keith Tarter left, one of the property
owners, and myself admire the turkey I
harvested that morning. Photo taken by
Jennifer Tarter. |
It was at least 45 minutes before the first
light of day would be making the sky gray
exhibiting the beginning of what turned out to
be a beautiful, sunny day.
I had unloaded my ATV and loaded my gear on
the rear of the machine, and put my shotgun in
the gun carrier on the front rack. I then
traveled uphill arriving at my hunting location
and parking my ATV in the permanent stand that
stood there. There was plywood on three sides of
the rectangle making it an ATV garage of sorts.
Man, talk about lazy hunting! All I had to do
was get off my ATV and walk into the blind.
However, I’m too old and fat to “run and gun,”
after turkeys.
It was the third time I had been through this
scenario. Turkey season had been open for 6 days
now; and while I had heard some turkeys, I had
not had anything close enough to contribute to
the meal I was planning to have with the breast
meat from a harvested bird--that is, if a
gobbler made himself available in front of my
blind anytime soon.
In days past I was presented with a few
problems concerning my hunt. There is a creek
that I must cross to get to the property on
which I hunt. If there has been a rain, and
there was, I would be unable to access my
hunting territory. So, the season opened on
Saturday and I couldn’t venture forth until
Sunday. Usually I go to church on Sunday, but
since I had been unable to go on the first day
of the season I decided to forgo church to go
into the blind on the second day of hunting. I
asked forgiveness for that.
I had set up the blind I was to use before
the season opened so that any animal in the
vicinity could get used to the sight of the
blind before I entered it to hunt. The blind
location was in front of the steps below the
tower blind mentioned earlier having been
erected there for deer hunting. This tower was
mounted on four-by-four posts. I dutifully
erected the blind and staked it to the ground
with the stakes provided with the blind. These
stakes turned out to be almost no help in
keeping the blind in any location if there is
any wind.
There was wind two days before the season
opened. There was wind!
Upon approaching the area where I had set up
my blind, I saw nothing but an empty area where
it had been. I could not see the blind anywhere,
but decided to go over to the edge where the
field runs off downhill, and there was my blind
entangled in the bushes. Retrieving the blind I
hunted for the stakes to anchor it back in the
area I wanted it to stay. I found three of them
which I used, and I also tied a bow pull-up cord
(a length of cord with a snap hook on one end)
attaching the snap hook to a ring on top of the
blind and tying it to one of the four-by-four
posts. I also utilized a ratchet strap attaching
it to a ring on the side of the blind and
wrapped it around the four-by-four post. Even if
the wind blew the blind hard again, while it
could still come loose from the stakes, I
wouldn’t have to search for it again. I traveled
to my local Wal-mart and purchased some longer,
and more stable, tent stakes.
Sunday morning was overcast; and when I got
to my hunting location, my blind had been
uprooted again. However, as I said before, it
was still right there having been attached to
the post by the cord and the ratchet strap. I
dug out my hammer and the new stakes and
proceeded to scare every bird in the area away
with the sound of the hammer as I knocked the
stakes into the ground. Needless to say, I
didn’t see or hear anything that morning.
Monday was a work day, so the next available
day for me to hunt was Tuesday. This day was
warmer and there was bright sunshine. The
gobblers greeted the day with their sounds, and
I tried my best to call one to my location but
to no avail. That particular morning I saw a
jake (an immature gobbler with a small beard),
and two doe deer. However, nothing along the
line of the bird I was seeking , so the hunt
ended for the day uneventfully. I had concluded
to myself that with my poor calling techniques I
must be the world’s worst turkey hunter.
Wednesday was a work day, also. I did,
however, lament my troubles to the security
guard at my work location. He sympathized with
my plight, but had no valuable bits of advice to
help me improve my odds in completing a
successful turkey hunt.
On Wednesday night the property owner called
to see if I was going to hunt the next day. I
didn’t think that I would, but he told me that I
ought to come down to the property and try
again. So, on Thursday morning I was in the
blind again long before daylight. I placed my
decoys around thirty-yards from the front of the
blind. Re-entering the blind I sat down in my
chair, loaded my shotgun, and waited. The
turkeys again started gobbling when it started
to get light. I bided my time waiting for the
turkeys to have ample time to fly down from
their roosts to start their day. The problem was
that while I could hear the gobblers, I could
also hear the hens, and these gals decided to
usher their suitor in the opposite direction as
the day got lighter. Again, I tried to mimic a
turkey hen but didn’t seem to have any luck
getting the birds to come in my direction
although on occasion a gobbler answered my call.
Finally getting disgusted with my calling and
not getting any response, I started packing up
my gear. I placed all of the calls into my
turkey vest and reached down to my right to pick
up my shotgun to unload it. Lo and behold,
looking through the side panel (all of the
panels had the shoot-through fabric on them) I
saw two gobblers coming up beside the blind
headed toward the decoys I had in the field in
front of me. I must admit they startled me
because I wasn’t expecting to see anything at
this point. Most times a gobbler will gobble and
strut in the field, but these birds crept into
the field in absolute silence.
I should say something about the shotgun that
I was using to hunt turkey. This sporting arm is
a 12-gauge automatic shotgun that will fire 2¾,
3 and 3 ½ inch shells. I was using number five
shot in these 3 ½ inch loads. This was a good
combination for this particular shotgun. A
maximum load turkey shell, even in a
gas-operated automatic, will “rock your world.”
However, most times a hunter will not actually
feel the recoil when shooting at game. In
checking the pattern on the shotgun before the
season, I noticed that the shot pattern was on
the high side, but I could easily compensate for
that problem, or so I thought.
Retrieving my shotgun off the ground I
pointed it at the bird on my left and pulled the
trigger. The blast shattered the stillness, and
I saw that I had missed completely. The birds
flushed but didn’t fly off like I thought they
would. Instead they presented me with a second
shot, and I missed that one, too. The birds then
flew to the edge of the woods and looked back
again. This time my aim was good and my turkey
was on the ground.
After it was all over, I took stock of my
sweating position and noted that I had scooted
down in the chair quite a bit. Each time I fired
the recoil pushed my body downward in the chair
until by the time I got to the third shot I
could almost rest the shotgun on my knees.
I traveled back down the hill on my ATV
having secured everything I wanted to take back
to the truck to the racks, along with my turkey,
of course. I met the property owner at the
location where I had parked my truck. He asked
me if “I had any good news!” referring to my
three shots on top of the hill. Upon telling him
my success story, we took a few pictures and I
headed home.
That was Thursday, and on Saturday we had
deep-fried turkey for lunch. We also had fish,
but the turkey was first in the hot grease. It
was good.
In Kentucky you are allowed two birds, but
you can’t harvest both birds on the same day.
So, I may go again, but this time I will take my
12-year-old grandson along to observe the hunt.
I had planned on letting him hunt, but he was
unfortunate enough to almost lose the sight in
his right eye two weeks before the youth-only
weekend was to open, but that’s another story.
I’ve come to the conclusion that I’m probably
not only the world’s worst turkey hunter; I’m
probably also the world’s worst turkey shot. Two
complete misses! I couldn’t believe it! Oh well,
I still got the bird. I’ll do better next time.
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