The Water is Rising

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Remember this: The water is rising. When a woman says, “Don’t go in there.” Don’t go in there.

 

I decided yesterday that I was going to go turkey hunting in the WMA on Friday. I scouted the area for the water table. The water was rising and spreading. I blamed this situation on the fact the moon is going into its dark nighs then growing. The moon doesn't change shape but affects the water table and tides. Just through the woods to the river you can see the salt water and the fresh water meeting. I knew the Gobbler King told me to call him on Sunday but that would give me three days left to turkey season. Rain killed the first part of the month for me. I didn’t want to count on him because I figured he was going to back out of this anyway then where would I be; empty-handed and not even trying.

The day before I drove the golf cart around for about an hour and a half at a different place; calling for anything. I got no response. That is when I schemed my plan with the help of Nena-Two-Feathers. I decided I would get my mountain bike, assorted hunting necessities and beat back the rising tide of river water. Mountain bike with a metal basket; extreme and hardcore, I know. Wait til you see pictures of me looking like a bag lady pushing a shopping cart in the woods with a buck in it when I am fifty years old. By then I will be a nutter and it won't matter what the game warden is telling me because I will be tone deaf.

I checked my bike for flat tires and loaded her up into the truck. I got all the stuff I needed and drove down to the WMA. I looked down the road and the water had now pooled well onto the road in front of the sign-in box. I pulled in onto the gravel park, got out, walked over and signed the notebook inside. A truck drove up with a Mr. Wilder from Tabor City, NC. He was driving a Z71 but his four-wheel drive was compromised. He asked me did I think he could get in. I told him no. I did ask him did he want to walk  with me up the road but he seemed disgusted at the idea of getting wet.  I offered. He had never been in the area and did not know it. I explained the terrain to him. He relayed stories of other hunters submerging vehicles in the next county near Punch Bowl because they couldn’t see what was before them. Mr. Wilder decided to turn -tail and go back home.

I had sat at the sign-in box the day before talking to the propane driver from the next county. He didn’t think he would be able to go down the road either. He said he stopped going hunting when he got married, took up horses, got divorced, then stopped with the horses. I guess marriage and divorce is a buzz-kill.  

I waved good-bye to him then walked up the middle of the road in my snake boots watching the turtles drift by. I finally got to the second parking area and walked up on a turkey that flew into the woods over the briar bushes. I meandered through the thicket, after hiding my bike in the briars, to see if the water was there too. It was. I passed on this area.  I pushed on through the earthy tea of the swamp.

 

 

 

 

I heard a vehicle coming up behind me as it broke the water. These two men pulled up.  The driver had never been there before. He asked me if I thought he could make it. I told him no but he could make his friend get out with a stick to dip test areas for depth of hole; made sense to me. Once again, Sacajawea was telling Lewis and Clark not to go there but they did.

 I was now the unofficial swamp troll telling hunters if they could pass or not. Somehow, I thought I needed a staff like Gandalf, while proclaiming, “You shall not pass!” The problem with these two guys was the truck. It was one of those low riding Nissan deals. I could see it sinking into the mire while water flooded it.

We talked about turkey because they were there to hunt like me. It was about 10:30 am and the two hunters were trying to find a gobbler after the hens left for nesting.  We discussed the surveys the DNR sends out and how I got one that was a psychological questionnaire. I told the guy, “I am now starting to question my mental status because I am here, knee deep and up to my eyeballs, pushing a mountain bike with a shotgun strapped to the handle bars.” We laughed.

The driver also told me he thought some of the younger men shoot the turkey and drive right out of the WMA without saying a thing so they can reserve their tags for other days. I think this was probably his opinion but I don’t know what people do and don’t do in the WMA once they get dead birds to their truck. I kept in mind he said he had never been to this WMA so I am wondering if he didn’t mean some other where he had seen it. I am not the game warden but people sure do tell me a lot of stuff.  After shooting the breeze a little more these two intrepid souls decided to chance the water and mystery holes on the road horizon while pushing forward to their dreams.

I wondered up the road and came to a small clearing that lead to a grown up road with a gate in disrepair. I thought about going down it because something had stomped down a path. I looked down in the ditch to find an assortment of red shotgun shells floating there. I piddle for a while then realized it was to overgrown. I went across the road and down in the water-filled ditch. I was unceremoniously up to my waist in water but made it across to the dryer part and mounds of dirt. I messed around in that area but it was one of those spots that one step and you are down in it with your head sticking out. I passed on this but while standing on the hill heard a motor coming. A red jeep wrangler appeared pulling the little green Nissan in tow with the driver laughing like Santa Claus and his co-conspirator, riding in the truck bed, laughing it up at me while I cried, “I tooooldddd yoooouuu soooo.” The swamp troll was vindicated. Those two guys looked like they were in their forties but the look on their faces reminded me of two sixteen-year-olds out with new drivers licenses and getting in trouble.  I thought it was hilarious and so did the jeep driver. They were just waving and laughing.

I then went to the trouble of getting me a witch cane and measuring a section of ditch to cross that wasn’t so deep. I barely made it across but I didn’t get my backpack or gun wet. I walked back up the road to get my bike. I then thought this wasn’t going to get better but I remembered back at the sign-in box there was a gate and I saw a turkey. I walked back. At the second park, two men stopped me to tell me that I didn’t have to wear safety orange because someone would shoot me and the game warden couldn’t write me a ticket because it was turkey season. I told him people worried me enough with their drinking and hunting. The one old dodger had a cannula in his nose where he was getting oxygen. I thought he must be a boss because even sickness wasn’t going to hem him down. He was giving my shotgun googley eyes and said, “That is an 870. Best gun ever made for turkey shooting.” I said, “Yes sir.” He looks at me and says, “Go in there girl and get that turkey.” He excused himself and rode away with his friend. He didn’t want to go down the road either and he had a new Jeep Liberty. I wished at that point I had a Jeep Wrangler but all I had was a mountain bike. Yep, good old mountain bike.



 

 

 

 

I watched them go and strolled through the waters. Finally I got to the gate and steered around the post to go inside. Dart frogs were shooting in every direction. This road was previously bush-hogged and I could walk it no problem. I wanted to be far off the road because of the no shooting zone. I came to a bend and went right where I eventually found a little cul-de-sac and nestled in. The only water I had to cross was a small low place with running water. It was dry as a bone and you couldn’t tell from where I was, that not too far in the other direction, it was flooded. I sat giving my calls and listened. I heard purrs and some yelps. I then concluded that I was on the dry spot with the hens, which were nesting because by this time it was mid-day. Every so often I would do some calls. I was so engrossed at one point with practicing my purr-cluck, I didn’t notice the fast moving black racer that came up to three inches of my snake boot to stare at me. It looked to be over six feet long. It scared the bee-jesus out of me to start with because it snuck up on me and I tossed my flex-tone wooden piece to my slate somewhere in the beige straw grass. I yelled and it shot over to do a semi-circle around me. My inner voice said,  “Snake I am not a hen laying an egg. Go away.” I thought about how this was probably adding to my white hairs that I have had since I was twenty.

 

Of course there is the old superstitution that if a black snake crosses your path, someone is trying to do you harm. I don't think so because this snake was just after something to gulp down.

It’s funny how even snakes can hunt eggs and hear or feel a sound that signals a hen is laying and came calling. I decided after sitting for about two hours that I would call it an empty-handed success. I then saw baby ticks on my gun. It wouldn’t be hunting unless the ticks were invited unannounced to the party.

I did want to see where the road leads but half way up it was muddy like a hog parlor. I relented, jumped on my bike and peddled away. I was doing well until I hit the water hole at less than top speed but didn’t sink the boat. I was exhausted but fairly accomplished.

I then snickered that I had found the hens and walked up on a turkey. I was still in the woods making calls when everyone else was giving up over water and not looking for options. I didn’t wait on someone else but went to do my business, whether I failed or succeeded. I laughed at intrepid souls who laughed at themselves and met people, all men who have been hunting longer than I have. I transversed a ditch to get to the other side then went back into that same ditch to come out. I questioned my mental status while knowing I was not insane. I stood on a hill and laughed at people's shenanigans. There were hunters knew to the WMA that didn’t have a clue and I was educating them and giving them advice. I was encouraged by a man that looked like he was two steps from a nursing home bed.

With hunting, it’s as much what you observe people doing and how they deal with situations that arise. It is not just actually scoring a turkey for you. People are amazing, funny, and informative when you get off your computer, out your house, and strike out down a path to a spot in the brambles. I do have new found respect for ancestors that ran with the Swamp Fox through those same swamps. I signed out after four hours while watching people come then giving up. I thought and laughed a lot going home.

After all, I did it on a mountain bike.

 

 

 

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.
 
Written by: W Harley Bloodworth
 
~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

The Turkey Republic: State of the Union Address.

 

 

 

Remember this: When you are reading something from 'the experts' that is a contradiction of itself; question everything. Prior planning prevents piss poor performance. Get Informed.

Declaration Statement: I truly do appreciate all the work the SC DNR does especially with compromised funding and restricted budgets. Everything is a work in progress.

Part 1: The Introduction to the Situation At Hand.

Let's take a closer inspection of this problem why don't we?

Its March 12, 2013 and turkey season here in the Great Palmetto State starts on April 1, 2013. I previously went to the shopping center to buy some shells for the upcoming turkey hunting activities. I was standing there looking at an empty gun shell and bullet case. The Customer Service Manager of this store tells me they haven't gotten a shipment of ammo because of the current state of affairs with the 2nd Amendment being stepped on and gun ownership in America being thrown into some dark storm of distress, anger, and outrage.

I was outraged this political tirade was getting in the way of my turkey hunting by compromising my ammo availability. Its un-American and not to be heard. The Customer Service Manager sold me my box of shells at a discount after sending me off without paying then chasing me down in the store to tell me she has to sell them at the hunting counter or walk me up to the front and leave it with a cashier until I finish shopping for provisions. Great I thought. Crack-pots are ruining our lives and good times. Off I went thinking about hunting the turkeys. On the way home I saw five in a field migrating to their intended breeding grounds.

Whittling away in my inner sanctum I googled the 2013 Spring Turkey Season on Private Lands and WMA's off the internet. I already snagged a book from the hunting counter at the shopping center. I perused everything to plot my course. I had previously acquired my turkey tags to keep up with my limits in certain zones. There are five game zones in my state with defined do's and don'ts when hunting.

Today there was a post by the state DNR proclaiming the public could ask the 'Turkey Expert' any questions one might have. I thought that was a novel idea. I started to read the previous comments. My questions became unemotional reactionary questions because of what I was reading. The state I live in does not allocate enough money due to budgeting towards research of wild turkey in the state. There was a question on whether or not there was research done on poult mortality due to predation such as coyotes because since the establishment of 'fox pens' used for training dogs to hunt, coyotes are more rampant. Some 'fox pen' owners were acquiring 'coyotes' to put in the pens. Eventually due to hurricane damage or other unforeseen problems the coyotes escape and start to become a hazard to local wildlife. At this point I think coyotes transplanted into 'fox pens' become an invasive species to the local area and a damage to wildlife. It would be my opinion that 'fox pen' owner that are found to harbor clutches of coyotes in their pens should have to make financial amends to the habitats and wildlife. I wondered if this has anything to do with the well publicized open hunts for wild pigs and coyotes because now they are deemed 'nuisance' and 'pests'.Wild pigs and coyotes easily can go into a turkey nest and eat the eggs or crush them.

Back to our "Turkey Expert".

The walking contradiction (reminds me of the Korean/Scot on the Starburst commercial) I speak of is the comments made by the 'Turkey Expert' that there is no funding for wild turkey research but public statements about turkey herd health have been posted which to me could mislead the public into a false sense of security as they go out on their hunting excursions. Surveys that are mailed out are forms of research. Maybe rudimentary at best but something is better than nothing in the face of governmental agency poverty. Which limited budgets are a sign of interstate poverty in agencies. One gets grants and monies in feast while another aspect of the departments get the famine. The wild turkey got the famine while the deer sector got the feast. Poor turkeys.

This was the copy and pasted answer whoever was answering the questions applied to several questions:

No. Unlike our deer program, which has funding to conduct research through the sale of antlerless deer tags, the department's program has no dedicated source of funding. Therefore we are unable to conduct turkey research.

To me this indicates they have no current firm data on the aspect of turkey goings on in the state at all except ride bys looking out the window of a truck or walkabouts on the ground. Maybe they are going aquatic and viewing them from boats? Or planes?

Turkey season is April 1 to May 1. where bag limits are 2 turkey per zone with a total of 5 turkey statewide. Deer season is Sept 1 to Jan 1. The question I have about this is if the population of turkey which was previously restored at some point in time was in jeopardy why would the state agencies not fund that research to make sure the restoration program is not declining? Would not research be prudent to keep tabs on this game animal when by hunting season of thirty days and stringent bag limits that this would tell you the turkey population could be fragile at best if one excluded hunting from its ranks?

I also noticed that this Turkey Expert podium was a way to pump the general populace for problem solving tactics towards fund raising. The anonymous expert reported it was all a budgeting issue which I am sure it is.

A commenter mentioned paying for a turkey stamp and another mentioned charging for turkey tags. These are tags that are not public draw. If hunters want to hunt a particular WMA that requires a specific tag they have to appy and pay for it. Additional charging for turkey tags has to be approved into law by the General Assembly. There was also a question as to the change in legsilation.

Here were the posted links:
http://www.dnr.sc.gov/wildlife/turkey/index.html
http://www.dnr.sc.gov/wildlife/turkey/baglimits12.html
http://www.dnr.sc.gov/wildlife/turkey/springseason09.html
http://www.dnr.sc.gov/wildlife/turkey/2012TurkeyHarvest.html
http://www.dnr.sc.gov/wildlife/turkey/2012BroodSurvey.html
http://www.dnr.sc.gov/wildlife/turkey/fallseason.html


Then the expert commented:

Anecdotally based on our deer research it would appear to be the case. However, unlike our deer program, which has funding to conduct research through the sale of antlerless deer tags, the department's turkey program has no dedicated source of funding. Therefore we are unable to conduct turkey research beyond the survey work we do now. Definitely agree that we need to be doing research along these lines.

We have an ongoing cooperative research agreement with Clemson, however neither Clemson or DNR has money for turkey research. Grants are available through some entities, but they are very competitive and currently most grants are related to non-game species.

With these statements I wondered this: If I have a yardful of chickens/turkeys and I don't feed them then walk out my front door one day to find all them dead....do I have a situation? Should I throw up my hands in exasperation because I didn't see that coming? Can I readily replace them? Should I have been more vigilante and responsible in my ability to feed said chickens/turkeys or take care of their needs to propagate my flock? Was I living in a dream world of magical corn that appeared for the chickens/turkey to eat while I was busy doing something else? Are all my eggs rotten? All my chicks dead?
I also thought: Prior planning prevents piss poor performance.

I looked at the 2012 Wild Turkey Summer Survey based on DNR data. Where I live is the North Coastal plain. This being a  previous restoration area.:

Figure 1. Map of physiographic regions for 2012 Summer Turkey Survey.

Table 1. Summary of reproductive data for 2012 Summer Turkey Survey by region.

Region	Gobbler Hen Ratio	No. Hens w/Poults	No. Hens w/o Poults (%)	No. Poults	Average Brood Size	Total Recruitment Ratio
Piedmont	0.68	576	726 (56)	2,261	3.9	1.7
Midlands	0.74	122	205 (63)	551	4.5	2.1
Northern Coastal	0.84	163	227 (58)	679	4.2	1.7
Southern Coastal	0.91	369	311 (46)	1,565	4.2	2.3
Statewide	0.78	1,208	1,472 (55)	5,085	4.2	1.9

Table 2. Statewide Summer Turkey Survey reproductive data 2007-2012.

Year	Gobbler Hen Ratio	No. Hens w/Poults	No. Hens w/o Poults (%)	No. Poults	Average Brood Size	Total Recruitment Ratio
2007	0.77	904	1,269 (58)	3,240	3.6	1.5
2008	0.71	1,504	1,446 (49)	6,336	4.2	2.1
2009	0.66	1,296	1,499 (54)	4,889	3.7	1.8
2010	0.69	1,687	1,151 (41)	7,508	4.5	2.6
2011	0.76	1,442	1,223 (46)	5,987	4.2	2.3
2012	0.78	1,208	1,472 (55)	5,085	4.2	1.9
Average	0.73	1,340	1,343 (50)	5,508	4.1	2.1

I read this on a link posted above:

Much of the state, particularly in the coastal plain, had no open season because there were few or no turkeys. In 1975, a comprehensive biological plan was developed by the Department for the restoration of turkeys in the coastal plain. This restoration plan was implemented between 1976 and 2003, resulting in the capture and translocation of approximately 3,542 turkeys on 204 restoration sites statewide. In 1993 a portion of all counties were open to spring gobbler hunting and in 1998 all counties were fully opened with the exception of recent restoration sites.

I am doing the math here: 1975-2013= 38 years ago. I hope they have updated their plans. How would we know? Not sure. They don't have money to figure that out or evaluate whether the current system is actually beneficial or working. I also took into account that this was done in the Piedmont region which is up near the top of the state as it was reported one of the areas that was turkey plentiful. Not the case in the lowlands so how the 'Turkey Expert' felt this would reasonibly answer my question became quite a mystery to me because as stated the area I live in which is Zone 4 was a restoration area because there was 'no purported turkey'.

Based on the fact there was a restoration project would make one think that intermittent turkey research with concrete data instead of abstract data would be more prudent and effect in making long-term decisions or evaluations of wild turkey populations in this state. Making decisions on vague or non-existant facts is a false sense of security and even worse lack of the value of responsiblity for our wildlife's habitat, health, and future in general. Undoubtedly there is some limited data collected as seen in the 2012 reports.

After reviewing this online conversation I was a little upset with the fact the expert just posted out-dated information as an answer to pressing current questions and problems without current empirical scientific data to support current trends in turkey populations in previous restoration sites versus restoration sites that were not in jeopardy of low to no turkey.  Also in my opinion I feel that if any statement is made as to the nature of the current turkey populations especially in the lowlands where I live then I would wonder just how accurate or true these statements are  based on the lack of long term scientific research put toward the wild turkey. If you are sending out surveys to hunters without reaching a broad range of people in different zones that information could be very emaciated in terms of content, quanitity, or quality.

I also understood how the 'Turkey Experts' hands were tied if there is no budgeting for wild turkey research. I guess they will pull that magically out of the air when a problem arises because the public will want answers immediately.No backlash there in the media if persons start to question why it took so long to get on that problem to solve it or head it off. Reminds me of those bovids in the Cambodian jungle that were left to become extinct or near extinct.

I know that the season starts on April 1 but there is also the problem of a slow spring where the weather fluctuates mostly to cold. This in itself could cause the wild turkey to be slow breeders. If this is the case there will be a lot of shooting with very little incidences of breeding to make up for an improvement in turkey populations for next year. If its not laid, hatched or lives to tell a tale then all we'll be shooting at next year is a printed turkey target or air.


Sidenote on Hunter Participation or a Naturalist: (Which granted by the comments and the lack of knowledge of this type of participation existing is that its not better marketed. This would give people access to data om terms of content and quality.) I would wonder if the DNR doesn't need better marketing strategies to get the information out there. I guess Q & A is one thing but its not in the spirit of educating the public if you're just tossing a page at them without making sure they understand what is before them. The other problem this poses is no education on surveyors because misguided or careless people could be tromping around in the woods, handling eggs, and scaring off the hens to abandon the nests could happen. If the survey period is July 1 there should be some kind of public seminar to train or educate people at least a month in advance.

“Anyone interested in participating in the annual Summer Turkey Survey is encouraged to sign-up”, said Ruth. The survey period is July 1-August 29 annually and those who participate typically spend some reasonable amount of time outdoors during that time period. Cooperators obviously must be able to identify wild turkeys and must be comfortable in telling the difference between hens, poults, and gobblers. Cooperators are provided with survey forms prior to the survey and a reporting notice and postage paid envelop at the end of the survey period. If you would like to participate in the survey, send your name and address to Summer Turkey Survey, P.O. Box 167, Columbia, SC 29202. You will be added to the cooperator list and receive materials at the end of June annually. Those interested in the survey can also download instructions and survey forms at the following website:
http://www.dnr.sc.gov/wildlife/turkey/volunbroodsurvey.html

Get involved I say, ask questions and for the love of God don't wonder when someone is going to do something about problems. You are that somebody. Go make it happen.

Written by W Harley Bloodworth
~Courtesy of the AOFH~



Here is some good sites to go visit to learn more about Wild Turkey:
http://www.pbs.org/wnet/nature/episodes/my-life-as-a-turkey/wild-turkey-fact-sheet/7299/
www.nwtf.org