By Bob & Ginny Riege

The alarm went off at 4 a.m. Wednesday morning and after spending a restless night I was ready to get out of bed and into the turkey woods. Ginny and I had done a great deal of scouting for turkeys in the Wabasha area during the weekend and we knew where there was a large population of toms and hens. In fact, we had a place already chosen for a setup under the large cottonwood tree that bordered the edge of the hayfield. Using our binoculars we counted probably a flock of over 50 birds in the area alone.

Upon arriving at the hunting spot, I picked up my gear and calls and started through the gate onto the hayfield. The moon was in the eastern sky and it was waning to ½ its size, giving me plenty of light to walk along the hayfield. As I walked I would normally periodically stop and cut loose with some calls and I would vary my technique from loud to soft to see if I could locate a tom, but today was different, I already knew where the turkeys were located. As I topped the ridge, I spotted the large cottonwood trees towering over the corner of the hill and I hurried to get at the base of that tree before the first light appeared.

As I sat under the cottonwood, my heart was pounding from the hike and the and anticipation of the opening day, I heard a small songbird break the silence of the woods. Within a few minutes, I heard a turkey gobble on the roost. I then picked up my box call and let go with a few soft tree yelps to let other gobblers know where “this hen” was. I put my decoy in the middle of the hayfield and sat back and started to hear the woods come alive. Then, I started to call. Before I could get out a second yelp, the old tom gobbled back from his roost and I heard him fly down, followed by at least four other gobblers doing the same thing. All five toms appeared off to my right at about 112 yards, but I had hens behind me in the woods calling and I figured sooner or later the toms would strut right in front of me. Well in a perfect world that would happen, trouble is, it was a perfect setup and perfect weather, but the hens decided to go to the toms and all thirty eight hens moved out of the woods and meet up with the toms. After a few minutes in the hayfield they all moved off and over the ridge. For the next few hours I sat below that cottonwood and did not see or hear another turkey.

That evening I waited in the same area for the birds to come back from the fields and to roost in their same spot. The birds did come back, but not where I was sitting. I had decided to move to where the toms had appeared in the morning and of course they came back into the woods within range, of my morning setup.

Later I found out that the distance to the birds was 37 yards and the night before I had patterned the gun at 40 yards. The Turkey Super Full Rem Choke had put plenty of No. 5 pellets from the 3-inch Magnum, 2-ounce copper-platted load into the head and neck area of the patterning target.

My gun of choice is the Remington 12 gauge 11-87 SPS-T Camo. This little stubby gun has a 21-inch barrel topped by two-bead ventilated rib. It also has and extended full choke to make sure that the toms that are out there in the forty yard range receive a maximum amount of the pellets.

The next morning was the same. I sat below the cottonwood tree again. Everything was the same except the toms came out of the woods behind me this time and moved over the ridge taking all the hens with them before I could get them in range. Feeling really frustrated and warm do to the increase of temperature, I decided to move over to the next ridge top and pick up a chair that I had positioned a few days earlier. Ginny was coming down on Friday and I needed another chair for her to sit with me in the woods.

I drove over to the field two ridges over from where I had sat the previous days. I parked the truck and as soon as I opened the door I heard a gobble from the end of the ridge. Every few minutes this tom continued to gobble, so I quickly grabbed my gear and headed to the edge of the woods.

I hurried in the bird’s direction. About 150 yards to the ridge top I stopped to listen again for a couple of minutes. A good gobble this time, louder and less subdued than the first. I hurried to another spot on the ridge top and called again, bang, the gobbler jumped all over my call. I had the bird pinpointed as to where I thought he would come to the top of the ridge. I found a prime setup spot a few yards in front of me, put my back against a large red oak, while donning my facemask and gloves.

Before I could get out a second yelp, the old tom gobbled back and I could tell he was moving toward me. He ceased his strut to answer my three yelps and four cuts with the most vociferous gobble yet. Then he stood there, neck outstretched, looking for his “hen.” Without hesitation I had him in my sights and I sent a swarm of No.5s on their way to the target. I was done, by 10:30 the second day of the hunt, with a 23 lb. gobbler and a call to Ginny we made plans for day three of the season.

Ginny and I arrived at the base of the cottonwood setup at 5:00 am on Friday. The moon guided us to the setup we were as quiet as we could be, but being together in the same spot might add additional movement, and we could get busted.

Ginny has never hunted turkeys, but she has hunted deer with me for many years and this year she wanted to try and get her very first turkey. Of course she would have to get outfitted in Mossy Oak camouflage, boots, head net and gloves. She could use my turkey gun, and I would go with her to call.

Don’t misunderstand me the turkey is quite a game bird. The novice hunter will be up against a 20-pound bird that can run about 15 mph with 3-4 foot strides. Even if the turkey is large it can clear the highest trees within seconds and cruse at 40 mph. It has other remarkable traits such as, super sharp vision, hearing and intelligence. Match these with the speed of flight and evasive running abilities you can understand the challenge of hunting such a formidable game bird.

Therefore, the one constant rule in the turkey woods; is to sit still, especially if a bird is coming to your position. Movement is what alerts turkeys and even spells potential danger.

Well the turkeys must have read the script for the day. Just like the previous days the turkey woods came alive, the gobblers were close and raucous, a hen walked right in front of Ginny’s gun barrel and never knew we were there. We had turkeys behind us, turkeys in front of us and finally a tom presented himself directly in front of Ginny about 40 yards away and she harvested her very first turkey.

Ginny said, “ I would have never known that this many birds were around us in the predawn April morning. I now understand the thrill of the gobble in the deep hardwoods and the bittersweet moment of celebration when you stand over a majestic longbeard.” Now that is Talkin’ Turkey