Help From Above

Help From Above

            For the past several springs I have had the good fortunate to guide for a local spring gobbler hunt in my hometown in Pennsylvania. Through the years, several of the clients participating in this hunt have become close friends. The hunt organizer, and one of my close friends, Brian Haines, was unable to make the first few days of the hunt this year. Brains father had passed away the previous week, and we were all relieved when Brian made it up Tuesday evening, to hunt on Wednesday. 

I began my scouting in early April, covering nearly three counties and locating multiple gobblers. The first day of the hunt, ended with a very unfortunate miss; after working a gobbler for nearly two hours.  None-the-less, we were enjoying our time in the springwoods with good friends. As we were eating dinner Tuesday evening, I told Brian I was going to go for a walk and try to roost a gobbler for the mornings hunt.

            Experience has taught me that if you are able to hear a turkey gobble in the evening, they are usually ready to work the next morning. I headed out to a very familiar spot, where I cut my teeth turkey hunting, as a young boy with my father and uncle. That mornings weather was cool, rainy and windy; not exactly good weather for turkey hunting. There was a change in the weather and that evening it turned clear and calm. Sometimes the gobblers get fired up after a change in the weather. I let out my best rendition of a barred owl hoot,  “whoooo cooks for you, whooooo cooks for you all”. I was surprised when a gobbler eagerly answered my first owl hoots! I stood there smiling of my good fortune, of hearing a gobbler in evening on highly pressured public land.  I listened to the gobbler gobble a few more times, to pin point his position, before quietly walking back to my truck.

            I excitedly called my hunters and told them that I had a hot gobbler roosted, and knew exactly where he was. We changed our agreed-upon departure time to ensure we were the first ones in this spot.

            Sleep came hard that evening, and all I could think about was the next morning’s hunt will play out. We arrived at the spot by 4:30AM, grabbed our gear and headed into the woods. On our way to this spot, Brian began asking me where we were going and he then told me this was one of his fathers favorite hunting spots. Brian had lost his father that week, and I knew this hunt would be extra special to us. I had no idea that this was where Brian’s father had hunted, and knew his father would be there watching over us.

We quickly climbed the mountain and were set-up near where I thought the gobbler was roosted the evening before. As daylight started to break, I heard a few gobbles ring out down the ridge from us. I kept thinking I knew that gobbler had to be close to us. After the gobbler behind us flew down, I decided maybe we weren’t exactly where we needed to be.

            We had quickly and quietly moved up the hill further to where the gobbler was. As we were navigating our way to the gobbler, I wanted to check him before we got any closer. I softly yelped to him, and he immediately gobbled back. The gobbler was 200 yards away from us, and the woods were wide open due to a late spring.  The gobbler was around the bend in the hill, and a large oak tree to our left offered the best set-up. Danette and I set-up ahead of Brian and I told her to get ready. I let a few minutes lapse, and softly yelped on my mouth call.  The gobbler remained silent for several more minutes, and I decided I needed to see where he was. I let out a short series of excited cuts and yelps, and he answered right back. The gobbler had not moved from the time we initially struck him, until now. I decided to play the waiting game, and went silent for several more minutes. After a long time had passed without any word from the gobbler or me, I decided to throw a series of excited yelping and cutting towards him. Gaaaaarrroobbbllllle he fired right back at us.

            After that short series of yelping and cutting, the gobbler knew exactly where we were. I told Danette that I was done calling for a while because we needed him to get curious and start looking for us.

            Several minutes had gone by, when I noticed movement directly below us. A hen materialized out from behind a blow down. I told Danette to stay still and that a hen was 60 yards below us. Three more hens materialized from the exact same location. The hens went into a small ravine and Danette readied her gun and started scanning the woods for a silently approaching gobbler. Several minutes passed by, and I heard “pfffft-duuummmmm”,  the unmistakable sound of a mature gobbler strutting. Danette really started to get excited after seeing the gobbler working our way. The gobbler was following the hens and the group was slowly heading in our direction. As the gobbler disappeared in the ravine, Danette made a few last minute adjustments to prepare for the shot.

            The three hens were now within 12 yards of us, and I was worried they would see us at any moment. The old gobbler came out of the ravine in full strut, and slowly picked his head up to see where the hens had gotten off to. Danette settled the red dot on the gobbler’s neck and squeezed the trigger. At the shot, the hens flushed off the hillside, and as I stood up, I saw a flopping gobbler lying in the ravine! I ran out and grabbed her gobbler and brought it back to her. This was her first turkey, and man was she excited! We all hugged, high fived and shared that special moment.  As we were all talking about how the hunt played out, we all agreed that we had some help from above. Brian’s father was with us in spirit, and we all believe that he had a hand in watching over us on his favorite hillside. Danettes gobbler had a beautiful full fan, nearly a 10” beard and over 1” spurs.