Turkey Poops On You....Then Laughs.

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Lean in and take a sniff.

Remember this: It doesn't matter the height one is pooped on. ~Signed: The Pigeons~

You are still pooped on. ~Signed: The Turkeys~

Yesterday was the last day of turkey hunting season. It went out with a heavy rain, a flat tire, a bee hive, and then lots of sunshine. I spent my day down in a pine stand raking straw for my chickens' nesting boxes.

Several days before, I had an interesting encounter with a wild turkey hen and visited the unofficial Turkey Gobbler King of the area. I was out driving the golf cart with Nena Two Feathers; doing some calls in a place I perceived to be vacant of the feathered bird. First, I was down in the pine stand. The tree top fall-out from the previous winter snow storm littered the ground. I piled lite limbs up for housing to whatever wanted to move in. I purred and clucked; purred and cluck. I looked over to see Nena Two Feathers with her head sagging to the side, asleep. Leave it to Nena to nap on the job. I drove down the road like a bandit trying to wake her up without throwing her out; nothing worked.

I came to rest under a great oak tree, calling away, that abutted a wide open field yet untouched by the farmer's disc. I called again, waited, then nothing. I will attest that I was not dressed in camo for the occasion. I wore a red t-shirt with white and black piping and a pair of blue jeans. On reflection, I am sure I looked like a gigantic male turkey head ghosting around on a sea of blue.

I decided to go back down the road. I turned the curve. Up ahead of me was a turkey hen walking out into the road from the pine stand . I stopped hoping the bird wouldn't be spooked. Not wanting to menace wildlife, I watched her slowly walk down the road and into the old dried grass and wild mustard. I drove up and started doing some calls.

The bird was humorous to watch. She reminded me of a small land submarine as she made a semi-circle. Her motions were walk some, up periscope, walk some, down periscope. I followed her movements for about thirty minutes before she finally disappeared. I remembered I watched the movie U-571. Any minute the turkey would send out a torpedo through the dried grass to blow up the golf cart Destroyer.

My suspicions were this particular hen was the one being menaced by a menagerie of little foot-prints up and down the road. When out driving the golf cart, I would look down at the dirt to see canine, feline, opossum, or raccoon prints hot on the heels of the turkey bird. The writing on the clay was a little drama of sorts where the turkey heroine was stalked by all manner of predatory beast. I wasn't sure if those little robbers found her nest and rifled it.

Giving up on this momentary interaction, I put the golf cart in high gear (more of a slow crawl) to bolt down the road like a mad dodger. I drove to the Turkey Gobbler King's house and knocked on the door. A little short man came out with brilliant green eyes. I told him who I was and explained my cell phone was compromised therefore I couldn't call him back on Sunday as promised. He was fine with my explanation. I had my slate call and he told me, “Let's hear it.” I plugged off a couple of different calls. Seeming satisfied I wasn't a total waste of time, we walked down the steps to his truck. He dug inside and pulled out a jacket with his slates inside. He showed me a couple of things then asked did I have any diaphragms. I told him yes but I wasn't comfortable with their use because no one showed me the proper way. He told me which ones he liked and disliked. I think the oral diaphragms I owned were the ones he didn't care for. He began to call and can confirm; he is a boss.

From what I gathered from him, people have him do the calling while they do the shooting. He calls them in under the guise of getting laid only to have their head shot off. All through the conversation he did repeat the lack of birds around the area; behind his house included. He admitted he had stopped hunting because of the lack of quarry. I wondered if it were not because of over utilizing the landscape to acquire birds then not think they would ever disappear. What was there is now gone. He did feel the need to point this out to me: “Its called turkey hunting because you have to call up the bird; not turkey killing.” Here in my state we are not allowed to bait wild turkey but baiting the deer runs rampant. People pour corn out to lure deer on land all year long in some places. This causes very little work on the part of the hunter. Who would turn down a consistent meal? I am sure deer everywhere would be standing in the tree line, not to far from the feeder, like Pavlov’s dog to munch away. Speaking of dinner bells, I remember reading some dated articles where rifle hunting for bigger game in the mid-west wasn't so well received because the bear equated the gun shot with opportunity for easy food.

I then got to thinking about opportunity and forethought. If you have a private land owner who sees turkey breeding on their property, the opportunity to shoot one is there. Whether or not the person has the common sense to avoid taking every male due to opportunity, is a problem source. Going back to the same spot to capitalize on birds without consideration for number of males per females could lead the next season into a labeled “fair” or worse forecast. If you are gunning birds just to show off a kill in a photo or one-upping the Jones, then when there is nothing left, you rightly deserve the deficit. In consideration of predators, disease, natural disasters, nest destruction through farming, or some other malady, not planning into the future doesn't seem so smart. Yet we can not control the future but we can control ourselves.

Watch out for those types that when you bring this up will say under their breathe, "There is nothing to worry about." Or the one that justifies killing off all the jakes and toms because he or she is going to get their bird regardless. People will believe their own lie to justify and act. Some hunters act like there is a magical turkey factory out there in the forest that spits out birds on a regular basis while causing a surplus.

I know the thought does arise, if I don't kill the turkey then someone else will. The travesty of living in a community where everyone has their own ideas of doing things on personal land and in their private time adds to this problem. If not aforementioned, the problem stated exploitation of birds through opportunity with little regard for the following turkey season and lack of rule-of-thumb. I have met people who do not care for the long term propagation of a species. Once they have their turkey, if all of them go extinct, then what do they care. I keep hearing the words, “I got mine” ringing in my ears.

What can be done about this?
Yes, you can educate people with factoids and memberships. Once they get out there in the bushes where no one is watching (bam!); gone is gone and their shifty little eyes look to see if they were discovered. Not that everyone does this but you know who you are. Next comes the “woe is me”. The only way to solve this problem is lead by example and hope for the best.

What good is the NWTF if people go contrary to their work? Not that we need another governing body that dictates rules and regulations while controlling life and resources. The idea is to get as many people on board with the right ideal but amongst those memberships are people that don't follow suit. This is when you have the insertion of control via an outside source because the individual can't tell themselves no on occasion.

Given all of these thoughts I was okay with not getting myself a turkey because I knew that the forecast was “fair” and the weather was atrocious. I have seen other people who are affected by these same conditions but let us hope next year will be a far better score. Pray to the Turkey Gods. If we are lucky, we will not lose one hatchling from a poult.

As hunters we should always go by a rule-of-thumb. If you don't have one then get one. Don't be afraid to seek out people when you need help or a connection. Not all people are nice but try anyway. The ones that didn't give you the time of day will one day wish they had.

One need not be overtly aggressive because patience is everything especially in turkey hunting. I will reiterate while watching or interacting with wildlife, to get the best advantage, do not rush the quarry. You do not want to stress the animal or bring it to flight out of fear if your present intentions are not to harm the beast, bird, insect, or sea urchin. This being a unique situation to observe behavior, I found it quite rewarding.

Written by: W Harley Bloodworth

~Courtesy of the AOFH~

Female Hunter; Social Stigma

Remember this: All motives do not end in sex (esp. with un-sexy people) but stupidity runs rampant.

The truck was stopped on the road by the sign-in box at the mouth of the wildlife managed area. I stared down the road at what looked like flooding in two spots; one deeper than the other. The little voice in my head said, “Turn back Lewis and Clarke; turn back.”

I pulled over into the new, rock covered parking area by the sign-in box, got out and walked down the road to the small tea colored stream making its way from one side to the other. River water was everywhere. The first hole didn't look deep but I could tell that second one was a doozie. I later tried the first but backed right up out of there on the second. I wasn't feeling lucky.

I was reading the list of people who were turkey hunting since the first of April. Only two male gobblers where taken over a period of 23 days. The weather has been uncompromising while cold yet today it was extremely hot and humid. As I was perusing this information an SUV came rolling by. It backed up and a younger black man asked me if this was the sign-in station. I told him it was and carried the book over for him to pen their names in. He told me they had been there the year before with no luck. I told him he probably wouldn't have good results because it was so flooded and where he might go to find one. He eyeball rolled me and I could tell he did not believe me. Maybe he thought I was trying to send him on a wild goose chase so I could have all that WMA turkey for myself.

They went into the first hole but backed right back out the second to stop and ask me what they could do. I told them there was another access point but I couldn't guarantee the road would be any better. I gave them directions and off they went. I would later drive down to the other access point and find several crater like holds filled with water and flooding across the area. I doubt they went in.

While at the Sign-in box, I heard the soft sound of what could have been a female turkey. I wondered into the brambles to find the origins of the sound but then realized this pitch-black crow was the culprit. I wasn't sure if the crow was bad news or what. There it was, hanging around, trying to punk me in the swamp. I then left.

I stopped by the grocery store on my way home but met a guy in passing who I was familiar with. I asked him did he go turkey hunting. He told me no, but started to talk about it. He was more of a deer hunter. I asked him did he know where in the WMA people actually hunted. He shrugged no.

A pause in silence while I heard mental crickets because I wasn't sure what to say next. Good fortune for me because this little man pulled up in a kidnapper van and started to talk to the guy. I walked off and went to shopping. Guy was still there with the old dude when I got back. I was about to open my door when he walked to the other side of the truck bed and began talking. He told me of several places where I could find a place not on the WMA that would not be so water logged but on the edge of it. He told me about this man that lived down the street who he proclaimed was a Gobbler Calling King. Of course he did direct me, upon calling this Gobbler Calling King, to excessively compliment him while blowing his head up and giving him the credit for pointing me in the general direction.

I was listening intently when he seemed somewhat nervous. I thought, “Uh oh. Here it comes.”

He then looks me square in the face with nervous hands and said, “The only problem you might have is the fact that you are a single unattached female. If you go with any of the men down here, people will probably say you are having sex with them.” In my mind the snotty voice was thinking, if I set foot on the WMA then I am making out with everyone even the game wardens. Oh happy day! I would be exhausted when I got home.

I told him I already new this to be a true statement. All of the people including relatives  I spoke to were showing me their backs or politely directing me to a dead-end.

My reputation is pretty spotless unless someone were to spread common gossip about me. I can't account for every little comment said or unsaid as to my person. Who does? I don't have time for that. Its emotionally draining and counter-productive to my goals and objectives.

We spoke a little longer but I did get some information from him on the turkey. I excused myself then went home to cook dinner and dial up the Gobbler Calling King. I finally got in touch with him and explained what I was asking for. I also told him what the guy said about people talking and how I wanted to work right past this particular issue. He told me he would have to ask his wife. I said that would be fine. His wife knew me. He will probably come back to say no. They always do.

While on the telephone he did relay to me that he went hunting several times but he wasn't impressed with the low show of turkey. The DNR forecast was listing 'fair'. He thought this was because of predators, people shooting gobblers who were not old enough to even have good spurs, the weather, or some other problem. He did tell me some of the turkey taken were young jakes instead of older birds. We were both in agreement in the past 2 to 3 years the amount of turkey seemed to be slowly dissipating. I felt at times he was discouraging with this information like I should give up but yet he was hunting and it wasn't stopping him. He was going with other people. He complained a lot about younger men shooting underling jakes for the sake of getting a turkey tag filled while not considering emptying out the herd when all that is left is hens with no males to breed with. The two men at the sign-in box had this same attitude through conversation of just getting a turkey regardless of it being too young or gobblers per hens. A lot of people want to get a turkey for turkey sake, a photo, and the experience even if the turkey bird is not mature enough. I have spoken to a lot of people that feel the same way in regards to low turkey numbers and this year if the breeding isn't improving or poults don't survive, next year will be no better. There is always a stand-by answer for this.

All men like to say, “There are turkey everywhere.” This may be true to them in their mind but when you see something dwindling down to nothing and a person who has hunted long before you were born is telling you what you've seen in the past 2 to 3 years is parallel to their observation, then I would think someone needs to rethink their hunting habits or do some research. No wonder turkey season only lasts a month. Most people don't even know turkey here were re-introduced because the population got so low and the DNR does their research through surveys based on hunting participants' observation and honesty to determine what is going on each year due to lack of funds or man power. I guess the turkey biologist has got to be pulling his hair out with tied hands.

After this conversation, I sat on the porch with a long face. Why do people have to think of stupid things and act that way when in reality there is not a lot of people that look that good to want to steal their husband or boyfriend. Men picked their wives and married them; I say suffer thy wife and let me turkey hunt. People's personal suspicions are not my problem. If nameless people have to worry that much maybe divorce is in order.

I then pondered over the questions: Is it more relevant for me to be married to justify hunting? Would this make another married woman or man feel safe if I had a wedding band on my finger?

No. Legal papers and wedding bands do not keep a person from straying. The only thing that would usurp this migration is the person's strong moral compass and the ability to say no because the individual actually loves their significant other. No compromises.

On the other hand after deliberating over crazy mind thought shenanigans; I laughed.

I have solved a problem. Turkey hunting with a single female is the litmus test of whether you are in a bad relationship!! Run, hide your husbands because no sheep is safe tonight. The only beacon of light was the guy was dead honest with me and reaffirmed my suspicions. I wondered how long it would take him before he asked me out? Yes, I chuckle at myself sometimes.

In reflection to this stigma of being a single female who hunts, this impairs your access to opportunity while demeaning the person you really are. The idea of someone making comments in regard to your morals, while constructing some fallacy as to your true reason or nature for going to an area to hunt, is one of the lowest common denominators of humanity I can think of.

There are a lot of under-conditioned men and women in the hunting world. The last time I looked some couldn't even crawl up in a deer stand or the side of a mountain. Thinking bad thoughts of innocent people is wrong. If you have to worry that much over someone else maybe you need cognitive therapy to question all those crazy thought.

Once again in the spirit of informing women not so much in a rant, as to what goes on in the minds of other people, so you'll be aware of things that could impede your hunting; this is one of them. I was planning on going into the WMA later this week whether the people in the community help me or not. I have come thus far without their help and will go on to do whatever it is to reach my goals. Its better to be eaten by hogs otherwise the gossip hounds will drive you into a hole then tear you apart; unfounded rumor by unfounded rumor. Common gossip based in fiction destroys lives and makes the people spreading it appear to be stupid cumquats.

Go do your hunt. If the game warden wants to burn you, it might be better to eat a ticket than be put off because somebody can't control themselves while in the woods with you or their wife doesn't trust their husband.

I will say while everyone was trying to get into the WMA, I drove ten minutes away and found this.  Besides, I did not know I was that much of a temptation.

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Written by: W Harley  Bloodworth

~Courtesy of the AOFH~

Turkey Feathers Make Everything Better.

Remember this: When life has you down and it’s not hunting season there is no reason “not” to go into the woods.

 
I have been in a bad mood because my brother told me something that confirmed some situation that has been surrounding me. Up till now it was no more than a vague idea crossing my mind based on someone else's behavior. No one would say anything to me so I was left with the poison thorns put in my path and had to go it alone as well. It has bothered me because I am in a quandary on what to do about it. Now I know what flesh eating bacteria feels like except I don't think I'm going to lose a limb over this; at least I hope not.I moved my camera to an undisclosed location to see if I could catch anything. There was a debate that there might not be anything worth having in that lot of woods. I took my laptop to check it in the woods and put the memory card back in it. The only thing on it was my boobs. The pile was not disturbed even though I knew something was there. I am going to leave it for about three days. Hopefully the battery will not die. It’s on 90%. I dropped some more pears. The apples from the last timer were gone.

I don't know why but when I put that camera up I had gotten it into my head that I was going to come back, divert the grassy area by walking in the woods to see what was on the other side since the storm. I had my mind dead set on finding some turkey feathers. ESP? Deja Vu? Who the hell knows? I just wanted some turkey feathers. I followed the tree line of the woods which was outlined by a small ditch/fire break. Let me tell you it was a mess. I thought I would find some old turkey nest and there would be feathers. I had to use the machete to chop this tree out of the way. I am sure the neighbors were wondering what I was doing back there as the one man's Jack Russell would not shut it up.
I can only imagine if he had let that beast loose I would be back there chopping away while some crumb snatcher was gnawing my leg. Much like the annoying sounds of mosquito.

It was really humid and my clothes were wet with sweat. I should have built myself a fire and chanted. It was like a sweat lodge.

I was having all kinds of anxiety. I had a raging headache and felt a little out of sorts. After I got in there whacking away at my problem in my head I forgot about it and my maladies were gone. I wondered back to the end of the path. I found one turkey feather that was brown and white striped. It was around 14 inches. I stuck it in my ponytail sideways. I wondered some more. I found a smaller one that was iridescent. I jammed that one in there to. Beats carrying them. I stood for a moment in the area because there are a lot of dirt piles long covered with forest debris. You could see the trail marks where things had come and gone and worn them down. I didn't go deep in the area because I knew the wildlife would probably stay around the edge of the tree line. I guess that is why they tell you to measure the distance from the center of the field to the edge of the woods. Someone comes a shooting you only have so much time to make a run for it and for cover; duck and weave-duck and weave.

For 'dumb' animals that's pretty smart. I went in and out of the woods in this field's edge. I didn't see any tracks what so ever so nothing came across it since the wind and rain. The wildlife is probably feasting off those corn fields and people's personal gardens. My dad told me that they ate up all his broccoli, squash, beans, and whatever else they couldn't tote off. Probably thought it was an Outdoor Golden Corral? I was watching a show last night where moose will tear up a broccoli field. Can't say I blame them.

I stuck to the inner edge which was about 12-15 yards from the outside of the field. I found another feather at the usual spot I see them go in or come out of. It was the brown one I posted on my page. I measured it to be 14 1/4 inch long. There was a serious quill on it. I stuck that one in my hair to. I can only imagine if someone had come a rolling up on me back there holding a machete in my hand, turkey feathers 14 inches off my head, serious tan, and the crazy eye.
 
It did give me a sense of being mentally off the grid in a indigenous kind of way. Being a little wild heathen is not a bad thing every now and again. Add turkey feathers and you've got a walking crazy bomb. I just didn't feel choked down by situations or things that were mental prisons I had to worry over. Shit that brings you down is like being in prison. It’s God awful.
 
Anna Botsford Comstock had wrote about two occupations for Saturday afternoon or forenoon (I think anytime but she had a target audience), " Out in this , God's beautiful world, there is everything waiting to heal lacerated nerves, to strengthen tired muscles, to please and content the soul that is torn to shreds with duty and care."(Comstock 3)
 
I hear this strange clutch of noises that sounded like baby raptors. I went to investigate. I was almost right on top of them when I saw up in the tree top the parent bird. She was skipping a beat with her cries. The fledgling birds were making a racket to but they were moving around. I decided she / he must be teaching her babies to hunt or fend for themselves. There was a pissy squirrel raising hell down there to. That must have been what it was after. I watched her from where I was. The bird perched on a limb and you could see her cranking her neck as she was looking at me. I decided to move along but it followed me around the tree tops watching.
 
I sat down on this old fallen tree that was bark-less and turning green. I pondered my problems. I didn't know what to do. I felt like I had been here before but because of my state of mind a couple of years ago I was really in a bad place. I didn't want to do for anyone. My attitude was let everyone rot in Hell for their sins. I wasn't going to put my hand out to help one drowning soul. I did without a lot and I mean a lot. my mentality was rebellion or maybe it was right down nastiness.
I feel like there was something I missed, or someone I went by? Some situation I should have connected to but I wasn't exactly ready. I felt like Magua out for blood. Eat your enemy’s heart I thought. Put them under the knife if you will. It’s a mentality not an actual intent to do harm.
 
I then thought of going into this store the other day. I was in the book aisle. I randomly picked up a book and read just one page. One page mind you. That page said to me, it was one of those devotional type books, in summary:
 
“I have burdened you with many situations that were not all good. Even in your pain I removed you for a great while because I am clearing your mind. For you to do what I want you must have a clear mind and up till now you have been polluted by the world and people around you. You have cried many tears and cursed life for what it has done. All these things I have done to you to bring you to this place where the many blessings I have in store for you, will now be given. Even though there are many troubles and obstacles in your path ~do not given up~ for you will succeed in the things you are to do. Do not give up.”
 
I thought this was a rather odd and random thing for me to do. I shut the book and thought someone had just told me something I really needed to hear.
I guess that is another thing about the mystery of life: One needs to recognize the clue that is given and follow it through?
 
Most people think I am bat shit crazy anyway because they don't bother to get to know me. Just judge me from the fence. I say keep doing that one day you'll learn.
 
I walked along the field because I heard 'walking' behind me. I walked up on this black snake that was a yardstick in length with a lot of small bumps in its body. It was sunning itself beside a root that almost made me not see it. It looked like two chopsticks side by side. I crossed over in and out of a ditch them climbed up on a dirt hill to look around. I headed back to my truck parallel to the road access that was over grown with grasses.
 
I finally sweated myself back to my truck via the continual barks of the Jack Russell. I loaded up and pulled out. As I pulled out of the path and drove home I looked back out at the field I had been walking along the edges of. Out there were three turkeys. One had blown himself up. I started laughing. Those bastards had been hiding somewhere there the whole time. I turned around because I wanted to see the Ninjas for myself. There they were.
 
Gobble Gobble, in the field. I laughed all the way home.

~Courtesy of the AOFH~

Literature Cited and Suggested Reading:

Comstock, Anna Botsford. Handbook of Nature Study. Ithaca, New York:Cornell University Press, (1939). pp. 3. Print

Link to order:
http://www.cornellpress.cornell.edu/book/?GCOI=80140100925610