As we drove out to the ranch, I just couldn’t wrap my head around it. How was spring turkey season so frustrating and difficult?
Yes, I know turkeys have incredible eyesight and can detect movements easily.
But we saw turkeys all throughout deer season, and they just trotted in to the feeder like little velociraptors heading to their restaurant reservation for a steak dinner.
That didn’t just didn’t seem that hard, to me.
Boy was I about to learn the hard way!
Planning and Preparation
Court had prepared me for what to expect as far as some major differences from deer hunting. Because of their incredible color eyesight, we would have to wear head-to-toe camouflage and sit extremely still when they eventually came into view.
He had loaded up his 12 gauge shotgun and instructed me to aim where the red of the head transitioned into feathers at the base of the neck. As soon as my target Tom stretched his neck up and out, I would pull the trigger and with proper aim, shouldn’t have any trouble hitting my target.
There was also the matter of where to sit, which we felt was pretty straight forward. The family ranch is a narrower strip of land between two larger ranches; in general, there just aren’t very many resident wild game animals on our side of the fences.
Turkeys used to be plentiful around the ranch until Hurricane Harvey took out some of their roosting trees back in 2017, making turkeys even more difficult to find on our side of the fence. Luckily, we feed almost year ’round, so they know where to find corn at odd times of the year.
We have one feeder in a field that happens to intersect with a sendero running towards the fence line; it’s this feeder that the turkeys will trot to after carefully hopping the fence from their roosting tree on the other side.
And on the way to the feeder, there is a small grove of trees and bushes that make for the perfect hiding place for a couple of turkey hunters. It was right across from this grove, out in the open sendero, that we set up some decoys visible from the fence to draw in our quarry.
Everything appeared to be going to plan except for one thing; the weather.
First Hunt
Immediately after the alarms went off that morning, the rain fell almost sideways against our little cabin. One thing I already love about turkey hunting is that these turkeys are a lot like me; they like to sleep in and don’t particularly care to get wet if they don’t have to.
When the rain finally let up enough for us to head down range, it was nearly 8:00AM. We rushed down to the senderos and got set up as quickly as possible before settling in under a hunched mesquite tree.
Court got out the call and started working the hen clucks and calls. According to the trail cams, the turkeys weren’t really active at the feeder until about 9:30AM, so we had plenty of time.
The tell-tale gobbles started echoing from behind us and to our left, towards the adjacent property. Court picked up calling and I settled the shotgun onto one knee in anticipation of a turkey sighting.
The sun started to rise higher and the gobbles sounded closer with each one. My heart pounded, my back ached, but it didn’t matter as long as those gobbles got closer. Eventually, the delicate clucks of hens even reached us from across the fence, as though they were arguing about whether or not to hop the fence. I hoped they would decide it was worth the trouble.
Around 9:15, the clouds suddenly swept back over the sky. As the sendero darkened, the gobbles were devoured by silence. My bunched muscles slowly relaxed until my legs were splayed out in front of me, the gun resting across my lap.
The sky darkened to an angry grey and we decided to pack it up for the morning. Although we came back empty-handed my first spring turkey hunt felt like a success.
After a quick breakfast and some chores around the cabin, Court’s grandfather suggested we take a little trip to town; the next move time wasn’t until 1:00pm, anyway.
Someday, I want to devote a blog post to Goliad, Texas. There’s something really special about this little town in the coastal plains shrouded in history and a deep Texan pride. Where trees have been left to stand tall in the middle of roads, complete with reflector signs to protect them from drivers in the night. Where the courthouse is in the middle of the downtown square, surrounded by historic buildings turned into restaurants, banks, a library, and eclectic little boutiques. Casting an ominous shadow on this square is the Hanging Tree, long-since retired of its former duty to the state. Out beyond the downtown square, you’ll find the Presidio La Bahia standing as if frozen in time. You’ll also find a glorious monument not unlike the one found at the Alamo to honor the Texans that lost their lives at the Goliad Massacre. And beyond all of that, you’ll find ranches with monster deer peering out from the shadows; droves of wild pigs snorting and digging their way through the brush; wild turkeys trotting and chuckling through the senderos; a single bobcat slinking silently from shadow to shadow; and occasionally, the unmistakable sound of a Chupacabra in the night.
But that’s a story for another post.
When we returned from our little excursion into town, the weather had taken a turn for the sprinkley. I was determined, though, to go another first hunt for me; shed hunting. Remember above, when I said there aren’t too many resident wild game animals on the ranch? It’s the same for deer, so finding sheds on the property isn’t too common. I still wandered around the fencelines, looking for an unusual-looking stick or something with a unique texture, only to end up getting caught in some rain and getting rescued by Court in his truck.
One of my favorite parts about being at the ranch this time of year is the wild flowers. They were beautiful.
To kill time, we settled down with Court’s grandfather for a few games of dominoes. Don’t let them tell you differently; when we played the first game, I had no idea what I was doing and didn’t understand the rules. And by the time I got a good grasp of them, it was too late to catch up. That’s the only reason I was able to destroy them both in the second game. They’ll try to tell you I hustled them, but that’s not how it went down!
The rain that was supposed to clear up around 1:00pm only came down harder, so we pushed back our next hunt to the next move time, around 4:30pm. If there’s one thing we do at the ranch, it’s eat well. We casually rustled up some Oysters Rockefeller and then settled down to relax for a little bit.
One of the best parts of the ranch to me is simply hiding away for a weekend in a calmer, simpler place. Away from the hustle and bustle of life, all the noise, all the demands. The closer we find ourselves to Mother Nature, the closer we find ourselves to peace.
We didn’t do much hunting that rainy afternoon, but I wouldn’t have traded those moments playing dominoes, relaxing on the porch, and enjoying some fantastic oysters with family for anything else.
The hunt continues in part 2…
Jess and the Outdoors 