I don't post much anymore on here. Family, work, etc., has me doing plenty of other things. But, I have lots of time to hunt.
Anyway. I am going on a 4 year dry spell with turkeys right now. Now, part of this might be some of my own doing. I used to be a box call guy and killed turkeys every season. I decided about 5 years ago, I was going to go empty handed if need be and learn to use and get good with mouth calls. First year, bang, dead turkey. I have a very good teacher (woodhaven pro staffer) who has helped me tremendously. I'm not a competition caller, but I'm not too bad with call in my mouth.
For whatever reason, I noticed last season that birds on my property simply do not respond to mouth calls well. I've tried various ones looking for the right pitch. They'll gobble, just not at me. Crows, loud cars, etc.. they scream their brains out at. My mouth calling, not so much. I can always conjure up a jake, in fact its bad enough that I hate seeing a gaggle of them coming through the woods and they almost follow me from spot to spot, calling them in several times at different spots on some days. Its fun the first time or even the second, but after a while...
This year, I ditched the mouth calls and picked up the box again. Its an old Lynch World Champion call my dad bought me one year for Christmas years ago. High pitch, low rasp. First time using it, I called a long beard to a friend who was about 200 yards between me and the gobbler. Gobbler got with 40 of my friend and just when he was about to shoot, he spooked for some reason. Oh well, least we had action right?
This past Saturday, I sat up in a usual spot and called off and on all morning until around 9am. A gobbler opened up not more than 150 yards behind me. I quickly moved around the tree and began working him. He never gobbled AT my calls. He would hammer crows, cars, the usual. He stayed in one spot for about a half hour and gobbled off and on. Then, the worst possible thing happened. He attracted the attention of a real hen... I could hear her up behind him, cutting and clucking. Then he went silent. 20 minute later, directly in front of me, I see a bird enter the picture... Aha! I thought. Nope wait... its not a long beard... its a freakin jake. He never did get within range or I most likely would have let him have it. I'm desperate to get back on the board!
Last Saturday pretty much sums up my last 4 seasons of turkey hunting. Bowhunting is my thing and I've become quite an accomplished trophy buck hunter (not bragging), so I consider myself a pretty good hunter. But I also love spring turkey season. This has just got me puzzled and baffled anymore. Freakin turkeys... getting up at 4am only to go and get embarrassed and outsmarted by something with a brain the size of a walnut..