Realtree.com

So This Is Texas?

By Steve Hickoff

Let’s be honest. Turkey hunting is always a “we” sort of deal. While we like to think in terms of “my bird” and “I tagged such-and-such number of gobblers,” the truth is, we all share in it. The guy who finds the turkey is equal to the one who calls in that gobbler to the gun.

Realtree’s Dodd Clifton, who wears a Cheshire cat grin around spring turkey camp if he’s found some gobblers, gave me a tour of the land I’d hunt that afternoon, just as the weather turned warmer (we’d seen west Texas wind, sleet, rain showers and even snow before then).

On a customized MyTopo map of the region, Clifton dissected the terrain. This resource allowed him to discuss some tactical options, and I plan on using this aerial and topo map resource for my own future hunts. He pointed out a section I couldn’t cover, the barrier cut by Dove Creek itself, some oil drilling activity, access roads and a general overall sense of the place. He especially believed in cold calling as you move through the cedar cover. Traveling turkey hunters need this sort of insightful coaching and spot-on scouting.

Not long after stepping out of the mud-splattered rental rig (you can bet I wrote WASH ME on the rear window after unloading my gear), I raised a hen with my friction call. It never materialized, so I didn’t know if that bird had a strutter with her. I continued to cold call through the cedars at a slow pace. Here, I saw turkey tracks, some fresh. There, some droppings. The afternoon turned just slightly cooler, but still mild and all manner of songbirds and bugs grew active. Something good was bound to happen soon.

BEING PERSISTENT PAYS

I raised another hen and such live wild turkeys in the near woods mean a gobbler might be there too. Picking a setup, I plunked my seat cushion down and settled in a pretty opening full of prickly pear cactus and bright green grasses while flanking the edge of cedar cover. Time, as they say, passed---not an unpleasant thing in the spring turkey woods around the country.

Working to strike vocal afternoon gobblers is often based on a sense of place, turkey movement and instinct from years of hunting spring birds. I called every five minutes or so, sometimes just clucking, or running five to nine yelps. At one point, two gobblers at the far end of cedar cover cut me off in that sort of intense aggressive way we all love. Game time . . .

I laid on some serious silence for the next few minutes, thinking they were on their way. No reason, just playing a pokerlike hunch. Let’s just say it felt right. For days some of us in this Texas camp had seen fired up gobblers come halfway to the calls, only to be stolen by intercepting hens. We’d paid some dues. Maybe these gobblers were alone. If so, I might be able to pull them in.

Waiting for unseen wild turkeys to arrive on the scene and in range is routine for us—it’s satisfying though. Often they don’t come straight in; often they target your exact tree as if by radar.

That’s what they did.

Gun ready, pointing in their direction, the first gobbler stepped out while another strode in behind. Enjoying the moment, I settled the fiber-optic sights just below the lead longbeard’s bright head and triggered the smackdown.

Later, back at the rental rig, the animated driver enthused: “See, I told you about hunting those cedars, Hickoff!” I grinned back at that good ole boy from Georgia.

TEXAS HUNT HIGHLIGHTS

Close Call: Day one, a gobbler barked out from a distant roosted position right after we stepped out of the loaner ranch truck. Fellow writer Brian Lovett and I set up on this bird and called in the first turkey of the day, a longbeard that ran across the field to us right after fly down. That “50 Gobble Tom” strode past my position in range, shouting out with every step, but behind obstructing cover. He did the same with Brian sitting on the backside of the same tree.

Weather or Not: We had two Texas hunts: the one with all kinds of weather, and the last several sunny days after the front moved through. Gusts had picked up and the sky turned December gray on my arrival for patterning guns, and glad-handing old friends and some new ones. We’d hunt through rain, sleet and even snow the first few days of the trip—some even used a Yamaha Rhino  to navigate muddy roads to distant spots, and I surely had Sno-Seal on my boots. Texas wild flowers, well on the rise, wilted. By April 9, the sun popped out and it looked like springtime in Texas again. Texas Rios—though they number more than 600,000—aren’t always as easy as they say.

Why We Go: Weather or not, Beverly Rose’s fine country cooking sustained us all during our recent Texas hunt, and her husband and Dove Creek Ranch manager Ronnie Rose’s advice and good humor added to the experience. Turkey hunts around the country are much more than just finding, calling and maybe tagging a bird. It’s the good people and what these places offer that make you travel so far.

Thieving Hens: On Easter Sunday I hunted with writer Jim Casada. We set up on a huge flock of Rio turkeys that answered us, but drifted away when the highly vocal hens took the group away. Once a gobbler seemed to be running toward our calling position, only to stop and do an about face. This happened periodically during our trip. Once more, we called a strutter in to roughly 80 yards (I could see him through ground cover), only to have a yelping hen come in and take him and another unseen gobbler away. Tracks in the snow later told the story.

More Tom Thievery: That Monday morning, I hooked up with Realtree’s Clifton and Stephanie Mallory, and from the morning setup to the ensuing cold calling as we eased through cover, gobblers would answer our clucks and yelps before hens would clearly come in to vocally intercept them and take them away. Such is the case during the spring breeding season. (That Monday afternoon, of course, I’d tag a bird.)

Nesting Birds: Though many gobblers we encountered fit the description of Woods Wise’s Gary Sefton’s song, “All Henned Up and Happy,” one hunter found a nest, and I noted the once-a-day dropping of a hen sitting nearly 24/7, so some early April nesting had already started.

End Game: Nine gobblers. Twelve hunters. We all shared in the success. Mallory took a four-bearded Texas turkey. Yamaha’s Steve Nessl nailed his first Rio Grande gobbler. All experienced what a turkey camp should be like.

Extending the Hunt: Back home, I felt it only fitting to make baked turkey enchiladas with that Lone Star State gobbler. And 15-bean turkey soup. And tortillas . . . after all, they grow ‘em plenty big in Texas.

Steve Hickoff is a turkey-hunting freak and regular contributor to Realtree.com. Look for his book Fall and Winter Turkey Hunter’s Handbook this August. Hickoff can be reached at hickoff@comcast.net.