Opening morning of the late turkey season began at 5am with a walk in the dark. Heavy dew, a crescent moon amid a starry sky accompanied me on the way to my chair blind a quarter mile from my truck. With calls, binoculars and assorted paraphernalia at the ready, and a hen decoy positioned some 27 yards from my hideout, a rousing chorus of gobbles from nearby roosting toms began at 5:40 am.
My Day 6 PlotWatcher Pro surveillance camera had provided 10,000 photos daily of the activity in the winter wheat field, and as scheduled, my first glimpse of a hen turkey came within the hour. Atop a camouflaged tripod sat a Cannon Vixia HD movie camera just outside the blind to capture the anticipated action.
For the next several hours, only hens were spotted along with a few crows out for morning breakfast.
Sneaking a peek
But, I was in it for the long haul in secluded comfort waiting for a good tom knowing that a majestic gobbler could appear at any moment. Then, a distant hen was in high gear as it raced back toward the security of the woods.
Obviously, something spooked it and at precisely 9am I learned the cause. It was a Deere, as in John Deere. The massive field sprayer rig barged right in the field a thoroughly covered every inch with fertilizer. Before it could run over my decoy, I ran from the shelter and watched my highly anticipated opening morning get destroyed.
I debated with myself whether to leave or to gut it out. I could call it a day – a short one at that – or hope that the birds would return. Six disappointing hours later, after seeing only a lone coyote, I gave in.
Day two began much the same but at 9am I began to coax some distant gobbles toward me by working a slate call. The raucous voices were approaching and three toms appeared about a hundred yards away. I worked them – maybe too much in hindsight – and after a half hour of fruitless coaxing, they disappeared behind me never presenting themselves for an opportunity.
Day three’s action began at 6:10 am as three hen turkeys descended onto the feeding grounds directly in front of me. Thirty minutes later, a lone tom alerted me from the woodlot. Maybe this time he’d fall for my ruse.
But, then came a loud cracking sound like the heaviest human alive had stepped on a tree limb. I twisted my neck toward the sound but could see nothing moving but that all changed moments afterward. Horses! Two draft horses followed closely by a man holding reigns walking between the gobbler and me ended the session at 7am. Turns out some log dragging had to be finished from the chores begun months before.
This time I wasn’t about to sit around waiting for things to settle down. I packed my gear and blind, tucked tail and began to work on plan B.
I moved my PlotWatcher camera to a new location in an effort to get away from the extraneous commotion. When things don’t go as planned, it’s time to hatch a new plan and the process with a healthy dose of persistence begins anew.
