Turkey Hunting is Stupid

Turkey hunting is stupid. I know, some of you have already picked up rocks to throw my way; you may have even loaded your Mossberg 500 with three-inch magnums and jumped in your truck to drive to West Virginia. But wait; let me explain.

You get up before the crow has taken his morning leak. Then, you drive for miles out into the country. Just as the sun is starting to pink-up the morning sky, you get out a long tube and blow into it trying to sound like an owl. What you really sound like is a cow with digestion problems.

Then, nothing happens.

You walk about a mile, blow into your fake owl / cow call again and then you hear a turkey gobble back where you parked the truck.

The sun is almost up so you run. Yes, you run like your headed to home plate – like Forest Gump, back to almost where your truck is parked. Then you throw out some plastic birds that look like depressed, meth head turkeys. next, you put your back against a tree and pull a mask down over your face because you think that the turkey you’re hunting knows the turkey hunting expert you are.

Now, it gets even more stupid. You put a piece of rubber in your mouth and start blowing; trying to make a sound like a lovesick hen. The really talented turkey callers move their head in a turkey like motion. They even put their hand up to their face so it is apparent to any turkey watching that they are truly skilled operators. This undoubtedly makes the noises they are creating all that more real.

The gobbler answers again. (Turkeys will sometimes gobble at anything – like a truck door slamming – so don’t get the big head.) This time he sounds really excited. You’ve yelled at him and said, “Hey, I’m a girl turkey and I want sex.” When he answered you, you thought he said, “Here I come baby.” You think you can talk turkey; you’re wrong. What you really said was, “I have a headache and its that time of the month.”

Even though there was not another turkey bird talking that morning, and even though that gobbler was only about 100 yards away. And even though you were begging for loving in your best turkey voice, the gobbler did not care. He flew down – you heard it – and when he hit the ground he gobbled again. You answered with, “Oh baby! I’ll spread my feathers for you!” He answered back and you thought he said, “I’m headed your way.”

What he really said was, “You’re not my type.” As he began to walk away, gobbling about every fifth step.

Turkey’s are stupid birds. Let a woman yell the same thing at a man and he’ll break a leg, ford a river, climb a mountain and try to work a calculus problem while headed her way.

Sometimes, for whatever reason, a gobbler will walk in your direction when you are calling. Sometimes when they do, they get close enough to shoot at. This is typically where the concept of using a shotgun to kill a turkey proves to be just as stupid as hunting them altogether. You aim at the bird’s head – he’s only 20 yards away – and you pull the trigger and he promptly runs off. Somehow he managed to find a hole in the hundreds of BBs pattern you threw his way.

You rub your shoulder and wonder why in the hell you thought a three-inch magnum was a good idea and decide a bologna and cheese sandwich, with a warm Coke, would be perfect just about now. Yeah, you could eat it while driving home, listening to that cassette tape on how to call turkeys. (If you don’t know what a cassette tape is, stop reading right here, you’re not old enough to experience the disappointment known as turkey hunting.)

Course, other things can happen when you’re turkey hunting too. Once in Oklahoma I was turkey hunting with an in-line muzzleloading shotgun. The big gobbler came into about 50 yards. Oh, let me tell you, he wanted some of the girl bird I sounded like. I cocked the gun. Well, I tried to cock the gun; the hammer would not stay back. The gobbler was coming and coming fast and the only thing I could do was hold the hammer back and let it go while I held the trigger down.

It worked; the gun went off when the birds was at about 25 yards and the 38-pound gobbler was hidden by smoke. (I’m an excellent judge of turkey weight just like all turkey hunters are – even those who have only killed one.) When the smoke cleared I could see him running across the field like his ass was on fire and his head was a catching. (I figure he thought the blackpowder smoke was mustard gas. I think I heard him coughing when he hit the tree line.) I hate shotguns almost as much as I hate in-line muzzleloaders. 

This is why when I do turkey hunt I use a real gun like a rifle or a pistol. Yes, this is illegal in some states but not in West Virginia. In fact, I’ve found out that turkey birds can ignore me just as well no matter what kind of gun I’m carrying. Maybe the best turkey gun would be something like a Mossberg 500 topped off with one of them high-tech EOTech holographic sights. That, combined with a magazine tube full punk’n balls (For those who don’t know, that’s old timey talk for slugs.) should be just about perfect for stupid, un-killable birds.

I might go turkey hunting this spring. My son has a desire to kill one with his grandpa’s old model 12. Like most turkey hunters, I’m an excellent caller but I’m convinced that the turkeys in my neck of the woods don’t speak southern. (I think when West Virginia restocked and rebuilt their turkey population they used northern birds.) I’m also sometimes convinced that my property is actually a lesbian retreat for turkeys; hens are everywhere but the gobblers always seem to be on the neighbor’s property. They’re safe over there though; he don’t know how to kill those stupid birds either.

TURKEY HUNTING IS STUPID PART II

TURKEY HUNTING IS STUPID PART III