It’s the tail end of the spring turkey hunting seasons and you haven’t heard much about it because up until now, I haven’t been hunting. Somehow, someway, I seemed to have upset the spring turkey hunting lottery gods and I was awarded the fourth hunting season. It’s the second year in a row that has happened so I’m starting to wonder: should I pick the fourth season as my first choice when applying for a tag next spring? That’s next year’s problem because today is all about me finally getting out in the turkey woods.

Hunting this late in the spring does have one awesome advantage. It’s a wonderful time to do some multi-tasking in that while I chase turkeys, I can also forage for some morels, fiddleheads, ramps and other spring greens. Keeping one eye on the ground for grub and one eye looking for birds can sometimes prove troublesome. I’m not sure how many greens I’ve walked by over the years, but I know that I bumped a few turkeys. My comeback to that would be: no big deal because I get to spend a little more time in the woods.

Because of editorial and printing deadlines I only have two days of hunting in the books and both days were abbreviated hunts because of other obligations. My first time out was a top ten weather day. The cool morning turned into a 70-some degree day and turkey or not, it was great to spend time outside. I did get mixed up with a couple of toms and thought my season was going to be over almost before it started. The gobblers were coming in and although I never saw them, I could gauge their progress by how vocal they were. My hunt ended when a hen slipped in between us and just like that, the toms forgot all about me and I never heard from them again. 

The consolation prize of the day, aside from the weather, were the fiddleheads that I stumbled upon. They were the perfect size: young, balled tight, and close to the ground. Just ripe for the picking. In no time I filled my morel mushroom bag and did so without a single interruption by any gobbles.

My second day was even more eventful. I had slipped into the woods and heard a gobble from down in the valley. I slipped in as close as I dare and set up shop. I called lightly and waited. Fast forward 15 minutes and a young buck with velvet nubs for horns walked in and had a stare down with me. He was so close that I could see the sunlight glance off his chin hairs. That was why I didn’t see the three toms move through the brush and into shooting range. Because I was watching the buck I didn’t see the toms and thus was not in a position to try a shot. The buck was the first to act. He began to blow a warning and he blew and blew and blew. The toms turned and walked straight away, disappearing into the brush where they came from. Who knew that turkeys understood white-tailed deer warning system?

So that’s as far as I’ve gotten in my turkey hunting season. I always say that the best day to bag a bird is the second to the last day of the hunt. I get to hunt a bunch and on the last day I get to sleep in. If that actually happens, it means that I have four more days to hunt and forage with great weather to boot. I can’t wait to find out how the season ends!

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