Category Archives: Turkey hunting

Eastern Wild turkey and Remington 870 Super Mag Bone Collector

Hunting Wild Turkeys

May 7, 2013   Eastern Wild Turkeys, Feature, Hunting, Life in the woods, Maine Outdoors, Turkey hunting, White tail deer, Whitetail deer, Wild Harvesting

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The day started with a 3:30 am alarm after a nearly sleepless night. My knee hurt enough to keep me awake and make me grumpy. Then I pulled muscles in my back while getting ready to go. Wasn’t this just going to be a great time. We knew where the turkeys should be and I wasn’t missing out on a hunt.

We drove to a spot close to home, got our gear out, walked into a great spot and got ready. Steve set up our decoys, Ethel, Lucy and Ricky. This was going to be the morning I got my turkey…my first turkey. I settled against a hardwood tree and Steve moved further into the woods, behind a few feet and to the right. He was ten feet away.

Steve made the first call, a ye-GOBBLE-lp. A tom gobbled before the yelping was done. I smiled. This was my day.

Something scurried in the brush right behind me. Skunk? It’s always the first thing to come to mind when I’m on the ground and hear something in the brush. It moved away, and I stopped thinking about it until Steve said, “Rob, look at the rabbit.” A snowshoe hare ate while we hid in the brush.

After a few minutes of back and forth yelps and gobbles it became obvious that there was more than one bird. They weren’t in a rush to get close. Steve called for ten minutes, then suddenly got no response. After the third unanswered call I wondered if they were moving toward us faster or were done with us. Seven or eight minutes passed before I heard a gobble further away.

I’ve been disappointed so many times when hunting (I’ve shot only partridge so far), and completely blown the one chance I’d had to shoot a turkey two years ago, that I don’t get excited when I think I might be going to finally shoot. Still, it was a let down when the answer came from further away.  We didn’t have a lot of time this morning.

Movement in the woods caught my eye. I couldn’t see them, just movement through the brush. “Here they come!” I heard dead leaves rustle, watched, waited, watched, and was a little disappointed to see a whitetail doe step into a clearing. She looked at the decoys, first with her tail up, then down, her ears relaxed. “Deer,” I whispered so Steve could see her. He called again to find the turkeys, and it didn’t bother her. Then I moved, just a little, and she heard me. I stayed still while she stared. Busted. I was going to be busted by a deer. She took three steps toward me. Steve called again and this time, a loud round of gobbles came back. The deer continued to watch the decoys. There were several of them and they were much closer. After several minutes I moved to startle her, convincing her to leave before the turkeys were in sight. Flag (tail) up, she bolted toward the road, and a yearling I hadn’t been able to see followed her.

Steve called again and this time, a single tom gobbled back. It wasn’t from the birds we’d heard. This one was directly to my right and further away. I listened a couple of times and decided it was coming up the road behind us. Steve moved to put himself in position to shoot.

It didn’t occur to me that this wasn’t going to be my day after all. I was glad that Steve was going to get his first turkey of the year, and we’d be having turkey breast for supper.

This one meant business. He came into sight quickly, spotted Lucy, Ricky and Ethel, and strutted in circles, puffed up and displaying like he ruled the forest. Steve brought the shotgun up, ready to shoot as soon as the tom gave him an opportunity for a good shot. It walked down the narrow path, into the clearing, and I smiled. He was big.

Steve hesitated, lowered the gun a few inches, then picked it back up and looked down the barrel. It was interesting to watch this first hand rather than on television. I’ve never been with anyone when they’ve taken their turkey. The turkey walked directly into the clearing, neck stretched forward, head out for a perfect shot, and Steve lowered the gun.

He lowered the gun. He didn’t shoot.

The tom walked out of my sight, close to the decoys, and I didn’t see him again.

Turkeys came out of the trees to my left, which was then behind Steve, and into sight. I clicked off the safety and raised the shotgun, a Remington 870 Super Mag Bone Collector Steve gave me for my birthday last month. I made sure I didn’t have brush between myself and the birds. My strict rule: clean shot, or no shot at all. I counted twice; five jakes. They looked about the same size. No one bird seemed larger than the rest.

Steve hit the button on the call and gave another yelp.

Five jakes gobbled at once, 25 feet from me. That excited me. They hesitated as they looked at the big tom and three decoys 20 feet ahead of and to the right of me. Steve called again. One jake took the lead while the other four stayed still. I thought I’d wait until one bird stood directly in front of me so I could be sure I didn’t miss. The pattern is very tight with the turkey choke. I was turned to my left a bit. I could be patient, but opportunity knocked. One more call. The jake in the lead took a few more steps, put his head up straight and tall, and I pulled the trigger.

“I got him!”

“Where’d he go?”

“Right there!” He didn’t go anywhere but down. One clean, perfect shot to the head. He didn’t know what hit him.

Eastern Wild turkey and Remington 870 Super Mag Bone Collector

Eastern Wild turkey and Remington 870 Super Mag Bone Collector

I did it. I got my first turkey. It really was my day.

Eastern Wild turkey and Remington 870 Super Mag Bone Collector

I shot my first turkey today mostly thanks to Steve. Ya, I made a great shot that I’ll shamelessly brag about for a while but I got to make that shot because Steve chose to pass on the big tom to give me a chance to see what was coming through the woods. I wouldn’t have been upset if he’d taken that turkey. We still have almost a month to hunt. I’d have been happy for him. He lowered the gun, and he let me have mine.

Eastern Wild turkey and Remington 870 Super Mag Bone Collector

My first turkey!

My small turkey weighed 14 pounds, 14 ounces. I’m calling it 15 pounds. I have one permit left. It doesn’t matter if the next turkey is bigger. As long as the population is thinned so they cause less damage to crops, the high tunnels, young fruit trees and gardens, weight is just a number.

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Stalking the Wild Turkey?

May 2, 2013   Eastern Wild Turkeys, Hunting, Turkey hunting, Wild Harvesting

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We were up and out early this morning. We had a specific spot in mind after seeing six jakes in one place and a tom in another last evening. Steve wanted to go for the jakes but after looking at Google Earth, we decided against it because it was too close to homes. We’d have been fine legally but we know what it’s like when idiots people hunt close to our house. Just because you can doesn’t mean you should. We find shotgun shells on the road in front of our house during bird season, but that’s another flip out story.

We set up Ethel, one of our decoys (Lucy and Ricky stayed in the truck because of the distance we had to walk.) and found a place to sit. Steve called. Nothing. Called. nothing. A pileated woodpecker landed in a maple to my right and a little behind us. It whinnied loudly for ten minutes. Sound carried well across the still air. If there were a cluck, yelp or gobble within a mile, we’d have been able to hear it. Nothing. We sat for an hour, then headed home so we could get ready for work.

I spotted a turkey through the trees. “Turkey,” I nearly yelled, followed by “tom!” I jumped out, put one shell in my 870 Remington Super Mag Bone Collector (12 gauge) and was watching the bird 30 seconds after spotting him. Steve used the wet box and on the third call, he stopped and gobbled. I had the shotgun up and safety off, but he didn’t turn to come to the call. At 150 feet away, through the brush, I didn’t have a good shot. Nothing less than a clean kill shot is ever acceptable to me. If I don’t think I can kill my prey with one shot, I’m not shooting.

Steve called to get him to gobble so I could find him again, but he didn’t answer again. I never imagined stalking a turkey. I’ve always been sitting on the ground, decoys out or at least a box call in hand, waiting for them to come to me. Not this morning. This bird kept walking in as much of a straight line as turkeys walk through brush and trees. I pulled my mask out of my pocket and slipped it on (ugliest piece of hunting clothing I own), loaded two more shells and walked up the road to a side road that cuts through the woods. Walk, stop, listen. Walk, stop and listen again. Repeat. I heard him snap twigs and walk through dead leaves and spotted him 200 feet away. I changed my direction but couldn’t get closer. I heard him a second time after he’d gone over a bank and made his way down the ridge but didn’t see him again.

It was fun. I’ve learned a couple of things while turkey hunting. First, I don’t say “never” now. I said I’d never belly crawl through a field to get to a turkey. Ticks, slugs, dew, cold, wet. No thanks. I belly crawled through slugs, dew, cold and wet the next morning, with my shotgun, when I could hear a tom making that odd humming noise they make in their chest cavity (what’s that called?) over a rise but couldn’t see them. This morning I learned you can stalk a wild turkey. I’m kind of proud of myself. If it hadn’t been quite so brushy I’d have come home with a turkey this morning.

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Preparing for a Successful Turkey Hunt

April 3, 2013   Eastern Wild Turkeys, Hunting, Maine, Nature, Putting Food Up, Turkey hunting, Wild Harvesting

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Preparation for turkey season starts well before opening day. You don’t want to find yourself shivering on the cold ground with a gun that isn’t equipped to do the job or worse yet, you’re unfamiliar with, and making odd noises with your new calls.

It’s never too soon to learn how to your calls in the comfort of your home. It’s perfectly acceptable to cheer using a big loud GOBBBBBBLE when someone scores a touch down during the Super Bowl. The family and friends celebrating with you will be thrilled. Or not…whatever. That’s not the important issue. Practice as often as necessary. I don’t practice outdoors when the toms start answering. I want them to think I’m the new tom in town, and I want them to be eager to strut in to check me out.

  • make time to learn the different calls hens make
  • when should you call
  • when should you not call
  • learn about owl and crow calls as locators
  • learn now to not make your crow call sound like a duck

Dress for the occasion. Choose camo patterns and colors that match the location you’ll be hunting. The clothes I have on at the end of April will have too much brown and not enough green for the end of May. I’ll need warmer clothes an hour before sunrise when I walk to my hunting spot than I’ll need a month later.

If you’ve never hunting from the ground, find a spot and sit still. Turkeys have excellent vision. It’s not as easy as you might think. You want something to sit on if you’re on the ground. Rocks, sticks, twigs, moisture and cold can make sitting still miserable.

While you’re sitting still, stay quiet. Turkeys also have excellent hearing.

Are you going to sit in a blind? Behind brush? Find your spot ahead of time. If you’re using a blind, put it up in time to let the birds get used to it. Turkeys are aware of their surroundings. They know when something changes.

Learn how to use your decoys. You don’t want to stand in the field fumbling with decoys while the turkeys laugh and point their wingtips at you. Learn to place your decoys and get out of the field.

Scout. Find the turkeys. There’s no use in sitting still on a cold morning, not making a sound, if there are no turkeys in the area. They don’t have to be in the field immediately at the beginning of legal hunting time, but they have to be close enough that they can hear you, and that you can call them to you. On a clear morning you can hear toms gobbling a mile away easily. Locate the birds a few days ahead of time.  Don’t frequently be in the area you’ll be hunting when you’re not hunting. The birds will move on if you’re there too often. Look for tracks in mud and sand along roadways. This is what you’re looking for:

Turkey track in mud

Turkey track in mud

Tracks are 3.5″ to 4.5″ long and 3.75″ to 4.25″ wide on a mature bird. In grass, look for manure. In agricultural fields, look for big “bowls” in the soil where they’ve taken dirt baths.

Find the area the birds are going up to roost at night. The spot they choose to end their day is where they’ll start the next day. I have Ricky, Lucy and Ethel. They move with the breeze and are realistic enough that the wild turkeys will try to peck them into submission.

What happens if you shoot your turkey and it doesn’t die? Be prepared to shoot again, or wring or stomp on its neck. They’re tough birds. I shot my first turkey and lost it when it flew away. We searched all over for it. I don’t know if it eventually died or if I only knocked feathers out. If I’d been able to take a second shot safely (it flew over my husband’s head) I’d have tagged the bird. Make sure you can get the second shell in before you hunt.

Know the pattern of your shotgun. This is the pattern of my .20 gauge at 18 yards

spray pattern for .20 gauge shotgun, 18 yards

Picture a turkey’s head in that pattern. You’re aiming for the head and neck. Knowing how wide the pattern will be at different distances will help you make a better shot. Use the ammo you’ll be using when you hunt. I’m hunting with my new Remington 870 12 gauge with a turkey choke, using a turkey load. The pattern above is an example only.

Know where you can hunt. Ask for permission from the landowner. Permission is not only common courtesy, it’s a big safety factor. If everyone asked landowner permission the landowner could tell you who and how many other people are hunting there. If I know someone else is hunting in an area and don’t know or trust them, I stay away. Steve was shot in a hunting incident. I need to know who’s out there.

We have a huge exception to asking landowner permission in Maine. Large timber management companies own large tracts of forest, fields and water in Maine, and leave them open to hunting. Many require a fee for bear baits and tree stands but I don’t know of any that require you to get a permit to bird hunt on their land. Check to be sure.

Eastern wild tom turkeys in Maine

We stroll through like we own the place.

Know the boundaries. I live in WMD (Wildlife Management District) 19. This district opened to turkey hunting recently. Until it opened we could hunt on one side of Route 6 but not the other. If you found turkeys on the other side of Route 6 you could try to call them to you on the legal side, but you risked calling them across the road in front of vehicles. If you watch North Woods Law you know that Maine game wardens are hiding directly over your shoulder watching every single move you make. They’re like moms – they know everything. Or it feels like it. If obeying the law to stay moral and ethical isn’t enough, think of the wardens. Take a turkey outside the legal area is not worth it. It’s just a bird.

Know the rest of the laws. Turkey season isn’t like other seasons in Maine. The hunt ends at noon, not 30 minutes after sunset. Read the book. Find a tagging station before you need it. Get your permits, they might not come with your license. Do you need a transport tag? How long do you have to tag your bird? Know the laws and save yourself time, money and possibly the loss of your hunting priviledge.

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A wild Narragansett hen

March 31, 2013   Eastern Wild Turkeys, Poultry, Turkey hunting

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One of these things is not like the others,
One of these things just doesn’t belong,
Can you tell which thing is not like the others
By the time I finish my song?

Narragansett hen with Easter wild turkeys

Narragansett hen with Easter wild turkeys

The turkey not like the others is a Narragansett hen, an escapee from somewhere. This is the first time I’ve seen her. I’ll call the warden service to find out if she should be removed before she introduces Narragansett x Eastern wild hybrid poults into the population.

She caught my eye when a large white "thing" was "bouncing around" in a field. The bounce was this hen fighting off the tom and other hens.

She caught my eye when a large white “thing” was “bouncing around” in a field. The bounce was this hen fighting off the tom and other hens.

 

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Why Do You Hunt?

July 18, 2012   Black Bear, Food, Hunting, Maine, Maine Outdoors, Moose, Outdoors, Turkey hunting, Whitetail deer, Wild Harvesting, Wildlife in Maine

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“Why do you hunt” he asked, or more like accused. “The deer belong to everyone and you shouldn’t be shooting them.” He was making a statement with a question mark placed at the end of his sentence.

Let’s clear up his first misconception. I “…shouldn’t be shooting them.” I’m not. Yet. I’m working on it. We have a very low deer population in northeastern Maine. Finding a “shooter” is a lot of work and not something I’ve done successfully yet.  I promised I won’t shoot his deer.

It’s a valid question even coming from a man who couldn’t answer my question. “Why do you eat animals that have been treated cruelly in factory farms?” He blinked. blink blink

blink

I’m not a purist now but I used to be. We do occasionally eat factory farmed meat. We go out to eat and eat meat when invited to have supper in friends’ homes. I wasn’t poking sticks at him. I wanted him to think about why he eats the way he does. I pointed out that regardless of who pulls the trigger, he’s responsible for the deaths of animals. Whether I do it or he has someone do it for him, dead is dead. We’re given two Thanksgiving turkeys (even though we raise our own) and Christmas and Easter hams from factory farms.

blink

I’m sure he’s given my question some thought. Mission accomplished.

So why do I hunt?

  1. I am a meat eater. That’s not going to change. I make no excuses for and have no need to justify being a meat eater.
  2. Personal responsibility. We raise chickens, ducks and turkeys. We used to raise a steer and pigs each year. We having laying hens, both chicken and duck, for eggs. I won’t touch a factory farmed egg. Having humanely raised and slaughtered meat matters to me. I love partridge, venison, moose, bear and caribou. Hunting is as normal to me as having a garden to provide our own vegetables.
    I accept responsibility for the deaths I cause. Vegetarians and vegans cause animal deaths, and most I know accept that as a necessary part of eating. Fawns left in fields by their mothers are killed by heavy equipment harvesting plants. Rabbits, birds, mice, deer, moose and other animals are killed for the sake of growing plants. There are so many moose in Aroostook County, an area that produces potatoes, broccoli, cabbage, cauliflower and other commodity crops, that there’s a special hunt to control the population and protect crops.
  3. Ethics. I don’t want to support factory farming. The thought of an animal as intelligent as a pig being raised inside, on concrete, crammed in a cage too small to turn around in, without seeing sunshine or blue sky, breaks my heart.
  4. I want to know what I’m eating. I don’t want artificial hormones, unnecessary antibiotics to make a bird grow faster (the industry answer to not using hormones in poultry), or necessary antibiotics to keep animals “healthy” in poor living conditions.
  5. I love being part of nature. Yes, I can do that without hunting, and I do. I am more a part of nature, the food chain, by hunting.
  6. I am creating a new family tradition: women who hunt. I’m the first woman to hunt in my family. My sister Tammy has followed in my footsteps and sister Melissa might, too. My daughter Taylor will hunt. I don’t think Kristin, my oldest daughter, will hunt but she’s supportive of what I do.
  7. I love a challenge. Finding a track, following it through the woods or down the road, losing it, finding it again, listening for movement or blows–it’s a challenge. Becoming a good shot with rifles and shotguns is a challenge. It takes practice. Maintaining marksmanship is a challenge. I’ve conquered my fear of heights by climbing ladders into various tree stands.
  8. Exercise. Put on boots, long johns, warm pants, cotton shirt, insulated turtleneck, shirt, hunting coat, required fluorescent vest if your coat isn’t hunter orange, and required orange hat. Carry a rifle (I most often use my Browning BAR .308 with scope) that weighs 6.75 pounds, add the weight of the scope. Walk up, down and across ridges looking for signs. Climb over and crawl under downed trees (safely of course). Do that for six hours. It beats driving to a gym to run nowhere on a treadmill. I reserve the treadmill for winter when the weather doesn’t allow outdoor activities.
  9. Education. Have I ever gotten an education. I’ve learned sounds, appearance, habits and habitat of the animals and birds I hunt and those that are around when I’m hunting. I’m positive I know more about the moose that walks the path to the right of a field I hunt in, crosses behind me, and walks in the woods on the left side of the field most of the 118 yard length of the field before going back into the woods than most people know about the cow they’ll be eating for supper tonight. Did you know doe deer will rise up on their back legs and box each other? The sound of crashing hooves is amazing. Shrews follow the same path under the tree stand I most often use when bear hunting.

Not a shooter.

I love to wild harvest my food. There’s far more responsibility in wild harvesting than in walking down the aisle of the grocery store. I dislike grocery stores. I’m counting down the days til bear season opens, followed by bird, followed by deer. We don’t have a fall turkey season in my district but I’ve been invited to hunt on a friend’s land in another district. I think I’ll take him up on it.

10. Hunters and other outdoors men and women who buy licenses, permits and stamps to hunt contribute to 95% of the budget for Maine’s Department of Inland Fisheries & Wildlife that doesn’t come from taxes. IF&W is mostly funded by outdoorsmen and women, not our taxes. We financially support wildlife conservation, game wardens who work to keep the wildlife safer, forestry, research and more.

 

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A Morning Ride

May 26, 2012   Maine, Maine Outdoors, Nature, Outdoors, Turkey hunting, Wildlife in Maine

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In truth, we were turkey hunting but since they’re just starting to come out of hiding again, we didn’t do a lot of hunting. We rode, stopped to call, moved to a new location, stopped to call, rinse, lather, repeat. They are out and about out this way again. I saw four toms/jakes yesterday while riding in Taylor’s truck at 50 mph, no gun, no shells, no camo, no calls (that’s what we get for going to Bangor). We found tracks today, probably from two turkeys together recently and one alone a day or two ago.

A fisher walked along the edge of the road before exiting stage right into the trees a few miles from the house.

We saw a timberdoodle (aka American woodcock) in the road. I was able to take a few pictures for the first time ever. They aren’t good pics because we were so far away, but I’m including them anyway. Woodcocks have an impressive beak. If size matters, they absolutely win. Note how tall he’s standing.

American woodcock

American Woodcock, photo by Robin Follette

American Woodcock

Notice his posture now? He’s crouched, ready to burst into flight. These little birds have the ability to fly straight up into the air. They’ve caused me to screech by bursting out of the grass a few feet in front of me many times.

American woodcock, photo by Robin Follette

American Woodcock

We stopped on a bridge crossing Baskehegan Stream to watch a Hooded Merganser with six ducklings on her back. They were too far away for a good pictures. It took a minute to figure out what we were watching. Beaver? The shape was moving toward a lodge but it didn’t move right.  Muskrat? Too wide across its back, not a muskrat. I knew it was a merganser when she dove, leaving the little ones bobbing on the water. They were quick to get back to her when she surfaced a few feet away.

A second fisher is lucky it’s not road pizza. I saw a flash of something dark in the road before we dipped down then quickly crested a hill. If I hadn’t seen it and told Steve to slow we’d have run it over. It was lying in the road. It darted out of the way at the last second. I have no idea what it was doing in the road.

The afternoon, the red-tailed hawk is back, watching the Silkie chickens. Ava is with them, keeping them safe.

 

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Steve’s Turkey

May 18, 2012   Hunting, Maine, Maine Outdoors, Nature, Outdoors, Turkey hunting, Wildlife in Maine

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Steve's Jake.

Steve shot a 14.25 pound jake while turkey hunting yesterday morning. He saw a rafter of five turkeys on his way home from a Soil & Water Conservation meeting in Machias on Wednesday. He went back to the field Wednesday night to watch for the birds going up to roost. He found them but they went into the woods before roosting. It was getting dark so he was sure they wouldn’t go far. He left early Thursday morning but was late getting into the field. We try to have our decoys out and be settled into place well before sunrise. Legal hunting time starts 30 minutes before sunrise. That sounds dark to some but it’s light out and easy to see that close to sunrise.

He called when he got to the field. No answer. Being sure they were at least nearby, he set Lucy, the hen decoy (yes, he named them…) up in the field. He scanned the tree line and there they were, all five birds in the early morning fog, 150′ away. He walked back quietly, turned the call on and clucked a few times. They didn’t gobble but they were interested. “Cluck cluck cluck cluck cluck.” They turned toward Lucy and started to walk toward her.

“Cluck cluck GOBBLE GOBBLE GOBBLE GOBBLE GOBBLE.”  All five birds gobbled. We can shoot only males in the spring turkey hunt. He called, they came closer, he called again. One young turkey was eager to meet Lucy. He was first to come in close enough for a good shot and stayed in front of the others all the way to Lucy. One shot and it was over.

I didn’t go with Steve because I had an assignment that took me to the coast at 9:30 am. I needed to leave by 8 am. I should have gone. Steve was back so before 7 am. Figures.

He can say that he’s been turkey hunting this year, not just turkey calling.

Ava, our English Shepherd, loves the turkey. She herded one of the cats away from it, baring a tooth from time to time. As far as she was concerned, this was her turkey. She snuffled and snuzzled it from beak to toe and back again four times. I made her back off once when she decided to lick the bird. No taste testing allowed. She curled up five feet away and kept it safe until Steve cleaned it. There is enough meat on the bird for a large pot of soup from the legs and two meals from the breast meat. The bird is just under a year old and should be good eating.

Ava: I'm gonna love him and hug him and call him George. He's mine, Sebastian. Don't touch!

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Turkey Season?

May 14, 2012   Hunting, Maine, Maine Outdoors, Nature, Outdoors, Turkey hunting, Wildlife in Maine

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It’s turkey hunting season but the turkeys don’t seem to know. The season opened two weeks ago. We’ve called in no less than 20 locations and have not had a productive argument with a tom yet. This is how turkey hunting works:

Drive or walk to the place you want to hunt.

Call.

A tom will answer you immediately if he’s in the area and in the mood. If he’s not in the mood but nearby, he’ll return your call within a few moments if you keep calling. A crow call usually works well. Crows rob eggs from nests so they’re a threat to turkeys. Hen calls work well. No return call, no tom (or jake) and it’s time to move. We move a lot this year. We’ve heard gobbles but not in response to us.

If there’s a tom in the area, put out decoys if you use them, and hide in the bushes.

Call the tom(s) in. Make sure you’re looking at a turkey. Never shoot at a gobble. SEE THE TURKEY. Remind yourself that other hunters are in the woods, dressed in camo, are difficult to see, and sound like turkeys. SEE THE TURKEY.

Choose your bird, keep spray and distance in mind, make sure the shot you want to make is safe, click the safety off, aim for the head, pull the trigger. I’m told that’s how this works. After last year’s episode (I don’t think I told you about that, and being old news, there’s no sense in telling you now.), I can’t tell you from personal experience that this is how it’s done. This is what Steve and Peter have told me, and even watched me do, but I don’t have a turkey to show for it. Maybe the joke’s on me. You never know with those two. ;)

I’ve seen three turkeys and four bears this season. I immediately went back to sleep when the alarm went off the second time Saturday morning. I was sleeping so soundly that I didn’t hear Steve come in and out of the bedroom twice. Bless him for letting me sleep. And for making coffee for me before he left. Ava woke me up at 4:45 am by woofing and grr’ing (pronounced gerring, it’s not a growl) in my face. I had time for a cup of coffee before Steve texted to say he was watching a black bear and ask if I was up yet. He left the bear to come back to the house for me. The bear, which is one of the two biggest bears I’ve seen, was still there when we went back. We called. No turkeys. I watched the bear through the binocs and walked an eighth of a mile to see what was over a bank. It wasn’t turkeys, I was just curious.

Steve waved to me when I turned back. We didn’t yell back and forth because we didn’t want to scare the bear still eating in the field about four-tenths of a mile away. He wanted to know the identification of a bird he’d been listening to. I mouthed the name of the bird. He didn’t understand, of course, because I was an eighth of a mile away. I leveled my hand at mid-thigh to indicate the bird was that tall. He nodded. I pointed to my camo shirt to say “it’s brown.” He nodded. I put my hands flat to my sides to indicate a tall, skinny bird. I am the opposite of tall and skinny so that one was lost. He shrugged. Hands to my sides, I swayed back and forth. I probably looked like a camo penguin. He shook his head. Have I lost you yet? We’ve been together for a long time. We have our own weird way of communicating. I pointed to tall, dead grass, put my hands back to my sides and swayed again. He nodded.

Did you figure it out? It’s a mid-thigh(30″) tall brown bird that is thin and sways in tall grass.

It took me less than two minutes to walk back to Steve. I could have waited that brief time and told him the name of the bird when I reached him, but what fun would that be?

“What’s down there?”

“Grass. Freshly seeded, looks good.”

“Bear’s still there.” I watched the bear another minute before Steve said we were hunting turkeys, not watching bears. Pfffft. What turkeys?

We saw one turkey Saturday morning, a hen along the side of Route 6.We saw the fox in Carroll and then only animal signs the rest of the day. I’ll tell you about those signs next.

The early spring, lack of snow and abundance of food, and warm temperatures put a damper on the turkey season before it started. I think the coyotes have been eating a lot of them this spring too. There are no tracks, no poop and no sounds from the local rafter, but lots of coyote activity in the area. They’ve vanished. We should at least see toms and jakes hanging out together. I’m not giving up but I won’t be in the bushes, dressed in camo and sounding like an amorous hen 30 minutes before sunrise every morning through June 2.

Oh! The bird. :) American bittern.

 

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