Maiden Hunt: Wild Turkey, the Old Way
A little jake came into view 100 yards away. He briskly walked alongside the barbed-wire fence line towards our hiding spot in the trees. I nudged my boy Noah, who was asleep on the ground next to me. He’s 12 years old, stands five-feet-nine and weighs 135 pounds. He’s the size of man but still just a kid, and I’m one proud papa.
Noah woke up, startled. I told him I saw a turkey, and he slowly sat up, leaning his back on a tree and reaching for his gun. With a nod I started calling, making the clucks and chirps of a female. The sounds resonated down the valley.
Each April in Idaho, turkey hens begin their complex mating rituals, calling to attract males. In response, big male toms beat up on younger, smaller jakes like the one in our sights as they try to attract multiple hens. The goal in turkey hunting is to use calls to fool the tom into thinking you’re a hen looking for love.
But turkeys know where they stand on the food chain. Coyotes, wolves, cougar, foxes, bobcats and other predators would love a turkey dinner too. This makes the toms nervous. They have keen eyesight and hearing. Knowing this, hunters typically don camouflage, facemasks and even set up blinds to keep their movements and outline hidden from the birds.
Along with a turkey’s natural defenses, further challenge comes from Idaho law, which requires that hunters harvest turkeys with either a bow or shotgun. This limits the effective range to about 40 yards for most hunters, which is up close and personal for a turkey. For most hunters, these ugly birds can be exceedingly difficult to hunt.
Back in our blind, the jake we spotted kept moving, as if something had disturbed him. Then a large tom appeared and ran after the little jake, a clear intimidation move. I called a few more times. The tom’s head snapped up, and he focused on the decoy I’d set 10 yards in front of us. The tom ran toward the decoy, stopped about 45 yards from it and began his gobbler dance. He puffed his feathers, strutted and gobbled, slowly snaking his way toward the decoy. As the tom’s head disappeared behind a small tree I whispered for Noah to raise his gun.
The bird stopped—I’m certain he heard us. He deflated his body, his feathers falling. He looked towards us, not the decoy. He took a few more cautious steps in our direction. As the tom inched forward, Noah and I froze. The tom bobbed its head as if trying to figure out what he was seeing. But our head-to-toe camouflage served us well. The tom’s head went behind another tree, and Noah aimed his gun at the bird. When it became visible again, BANG! Perfect.
The bird fell, did the dead turkey flop and settled at the bottom of the hill. We grabbed our gear and made quick work of the evisceration. We high-fived, hugged and I nearly cried. He asked when deer season started. My heart filled.
Noah did everything right on his first turkey hunt. He waited to shoot until it was safe and when the bird was within range. He gutted the animal quickly, thanking it for its life and accepting the meat that it would provide. He hauled the bird out on his own. He decided whatwe should make out of its breast meat: cured turkey “ham.”
Talking Turkey
In the early 20th century wild turkeys were nearly hunted to extinction in the United States. According to the National Wild Turkey Federation, market hunters and a lack of game management led to devastating losses. It was estimated the population was below 20,000 at one point.
With the help of conservation organizations like the National Wild Turkey Federation (NWTF), the bird has made a dramatic recovery. It is now one of the most popular game species hunted in the U.S.
In 1961, near my uncle’s house in Riggins, the Idaho Department of Fish and Game dropped its first load of transplant Merriam’s turkeys. The NWTF states that there are five distinct sub-species of turkeys in the U.S.: Eastern, Gould, Rio Grande, Merriam’s and Osceola. Idaho has mostly Merriam’s turkeys, but a few isolated locations have Eastern and Rio Grande birds. Since introducing the bird, the Idaho Department of Fish and Game has done a commendable job spreading the bird across the state and allowing hunters access to them.
