Talking Turkey

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Standing on a knoll, on a spring morning in nineteen hundred and ninety nine. "For all those who don't want to read that like it was a century ago, it's 1999". On a small family farm in eastern Kentucky overlooking a vast parcel of federally owned property. My view of the world, and the critters that inhabited it changed dramatically. What succeeded, can only be explained as pure chaos. A madness of sort, an obsessional thirst that couldn't be quenched no matter how many times I drank from the cup. I had heard my first wild turkey gobble.

Until that morning, I had only read about them. Most likely from a Field and Stream or Outdoor Life magazine article. Until that morning, I had zero perception that a wild turkey was living and breathing in the state of Kentucky. I was a "Timber Rat". Set aside chores and schooling. I stayed in the woods. From daylight, until twilight. I had killed and skinned more squirrels and rabbits than Daniel Boone had seen in the state of ole Kentuck'e. With all that rummaging.  I had never seen a track or any sign that a turkey existed on my side of the planet. The springs where meant for creek wading or morel mushroom hunting. Bass fishing or chasing red eyes. What ever a kid of 17 years of age does without any money to blow on important things, other than hunting and fishing of course. 

 Unbeknownst to me. The KDFW had a wild turkey restoration program that spanned from 1978-1997. My goodness, what a program that turned out to be. The immediate years that followed my discovery of that lone Tom. It seemed like you couldn't throw a stick in the woods without hitting a turkey.  Here I am, smack in the middle of it all. Get this... ALONE. I had this seemingly never ending supply of Tom foolery all to myself. I managed to educate half the population of Kentucky Daniel Boone Tom turkeys, to not come to a squawking fool in a hand me down camo shirt, all by my lonesome.  No one turkey hunted in my neck of the woods.

 It's amazing to think about the dramatic change in the numbers of wild turkey in the United States in the 20th century. In the early 1900's the wild turkey was on the brink of extinction. Our generations have been very fortunate to witness the true golden age of the wild turkey restoration, and wild turkey hunting. I brought in the 21st century with the opportunity to chase this critter. That opportunity didn't exist at the last turn of the century.

You hear of the golden age all the time. As if it's in the past. Open your eyes and look around folks. You're living it right now when you're speaking of the wild turkey.

The following summer, fall, and winter of 99. I spent my time gearing up for the next spring. I read every article or book I could get my hands on. I also discovered Harold Knight and David Hale. They had their obsessions start in the 70s and was light years ahead on knowledge. They also had the video to prove it. Not taking anything from those two. Those guys could kill a turkey, and Harold could and still can, call to a turkey like its listening to its mother. This is when my first mistake was made. Before I stepped foot in the woods for the first time with a turkey tag in my pocket. I had a pre-perceived notion that a turkey just runs to the gun, mainly due to their video editing skills. Strike 1, Me 0 Turkeys 1. I clearly hadn't read enough books. K&H did manage to sell me some turkey calls. I wore the reeds out of them that summer, fall and winter of 99.

The spring of Y2K. While everyone else was relieved the world hadn't shut down. I had turkeys on the brain. That spring was meant for blunders, missed opportunities, and a world of experience. I soaked up the knowledge like a forgotten sponge in the corner of the sink. This was the year I learned that patience wasn't just a word in the dictionary. It had a meaning and I was not disciplined to it.  

I did however, manage to fool one dumb turkey out of what seemed like one hundred smart ones "smarter than me", and filled my first turkey tag. I can explain in exact detail of how this hunt went down. Matter of fact all my hunts are engrained in my memory bank like they happened moments ago. I'll save all that for a later day.

 I quickly found that a bird with a brain the size of a walnut was pretty dang smart. Even without pressure. Even, having never heard an ill used turkey call. I discovered a turkey could see a gnat dance on a squirrels ear from 1000 yards away "no exaggeration here". That grew that thirst that I was talking about earlier to be even more unbearable.

Lets circle back to the fact. I had all these turkeys to myself. I want to point that out, because that changed.  On a parcel of federally owned ground about the size of Rhode Island "not really, no where close". However, it felt like it once I started chasing turkeys over it. I managed to keep this jewel a secret for 4 springs. It wasn't until 2003 that I saw another turkey hunter on my federally owned piece of ground. By that time, I had become a self crowned professional in the turkey hunting woods. It just so happened, that the invader I found traipsing across my closely guarded secret, was also a self crowned professional. Advanced enough that he was making his own trumpet style calls. These trumpets were made from river cane. Hollowed out and glued together. Hey, they sounded like a turkey. Sort of. 

The sport of turkey hunting started out slow in my neck of the woods. Once it got started, it exploded.  People started looking for those untouched flocks of Toms and what was once a serene patch of forest became a hunter littered parking lot. None of that mattered, no one knew how to kill a turkey anyway.

Over the years of making calls. 25 years and counting. I've made a gabillion different models and styles. These days,  I limit how many I make in a year. The last few batches have been donated to churches to raise a few dollars. In other words, I don't push the sell of turkey calls like I used to. Not only is the market saturated. I feel like people have lost touch with the value of a true hand crafted call. When I started, there was nothing any better. You couldn't simply buy this quality off a major store shelf somewhere. With a custom call. Someone took their time. Selected the wood, hand crafted and made sure the call had a turkey in it. 

Now days, I see that there isn't as many turkey hunters as before, and whether the departments admit it or not. Turkeys are on a decline. The places I used to perch and listen to countless gobbles in the spring. Are now silent of turkey talk. It could be many factors. Too many predators (Coons, Foxes, Bobcats, Coyotes, Possums), poor nesting weather,  or habitat loss. 

The places we hunters have to hunt turkeys are on a decline. Whether it be land leasing, timber production or selling the farms for housing with leaky roofs. We face times now that weren't thought of in the early turn of the century. 

Is the golden age coming to an end?

Here's a few Pictures of calls that I've made in the past. Each has a turkey in them. They where all Kentucky Hens... Enjoy