Turkey hunting in Florida, part IV: Yes, we did go turkey hunting!

April 11, 2019

The turkey hunting proved difficult. We had scouted for several days and found plenty of tracks in the sugar sand and mud, but few turkeys. They were mostly quiet, even at first light. We heard some here and there, but not enough to pinpoint. Micah did find a roost and watched a few fly down and strut, but word was that the area he found it in would be a popular one among hunters come opener. At least three different people we ran into mentioned the area by name without prompting.

Strut marks from a gobbler dragging his wingtips along the ground while strutting for the hens

We decided to forego the area with the only solid birds to avoid the crowd. We picked an area that had no other vehicles around, but plenty of tracks. I had also seen a hen while hiking and Micah saw a hen and jake. We split up to maximize our odds. I heard one distant (or so I thought) gobbler, but Micah heard three. One was responding to his calls and coming closer until... ...boom! Someone else got him. I didn't move towards the bird I heard because I thought it was very far away. I'd later learn that if you can hear them through the palmettos, they are much closer than they sound.

We met up mid-morning and headed to the area where we had found some scouting. We saw a rafter of 3 hens and a jake about 75 yards from the parking lot, so we rolled out and tried to call them from right near the lot. Unfortunately, they were already on a march the other way. We hadn't scared them, but they just kept pecking and meandering slowly away. They were in a spot where we had seen a lot of tracks and strut sign, so we planned to come back there again.

We tried a few other spots, to no avail. Also had no luck finding any headed to roost that evening while we were scouting.

On day 2, I set up closer to where I had heard the gobbler from the first morning and Micah went closer to where he had heard some. I heard nothing that morning. Micah heard one and it was getting pretty close until... ...crunch crunch! Some other hunter cut between him and the bird. He tried to get the guy's attention, but had no luck. Micah decided to get up and move toward the bird. When the other hunter saw him sneaking toward the bird, he tried to shoo Micah away. Yay, public land hunting! Neither got a shot at the bird.

We met up around 10am and headed down to the area where we had seen the hens and jake the day prior. We were pleased to see the parking lot empty. Micah planned to set up on the strut zone, but I wanted to cover some ground. We had been accidentally seeing turkeys around the WMA just while driving around, so I hopped on the bike and set out on an overly ambitious route.

About 1/4 of the way into the route, I realized that it would take way too long. We had to quit hunting at 1pm and had intentions to check one other area before that time. I decided to take a shortcut that showed on my map and that Micah had told me looked "like a good trail" when he walked passed it. I'm guessing he meant a different trail, because it didn't exist. I bushwhacked a few hundred yards with the bike to get to my return trail. I was starting to get pretty worn out mentally and physically.

My spirits perked up a bit when I hit the return trail and found it to be the nicest trail for biking thus far. I was cruising and enjoying the "cool" breeze and it felt nice. I stopped every few hundred yards and power-called. About two stops before I got back to the parking area, I messaged Micah that I was almost back and that I would let him know when I was back at the car so he could join me.

Unfortunately for Micah, but fortunately for me, he took that as his cue to get up and head back to the car. When he did so, he noticed a jake at about 80 yards. The jake noticed Micah back and walked away.

At the next calling stop, I let it rip. To my surprise, I got a gobble in return! The first gobble response I had the entire trip. I messaged Micah because the bearing to the bird was right in line with him and we were only about 400 yards apart. It had to be on top of him, right?! He replied that he didn't hear anything but had spooked a jake. This was no jake.

The gears started turning as I thought about where to sit. I thought that going back out the trail a ways would put me closer. I was headed that way when I saw a perfect hide. I stopped short, quickly dumped the bike about 10 yards behind the hide and out of sight of the trail, and got settled. Called again and he responded, much closer this time. I was just off the trail. I thought he would hit the trail a little further out and then follow it up to me, putting him right in front of me in a nice open spot.

I waited a bit and called again. I was shocked to hear the thunderous gobble behind me at about 40 yards. He had gone past me and was now at my 7 o'clock. I could turn that way if I wasn't still strapped in to my backpack! I thought I may be able to rise up and get a shot, but I had flashbacks to the last time I had a bird in the same spot; let's just say I saw the backside of a running turkey. So I held tight. A few minutes later, he gobbled again, this time within 20 yards and at my 4-5 o'clock. That wouldn't work; I'm a righty! I started contemplating how I could flip the gun and shoot lefty but feared he'd see me move at this distance. I held tight again. The whole time, I was convinced that this tom was going to just keep gobbling and walking away to my right, never to be shot.

I thought that I heard him spitting and circling back around to my left, but I had never heard that call in real life. I didn't move. I gave it another minute and called. My heart leaped when he gobbled to my 10-11 o'clock. It sounded like he was right on the trail. I slowly leaned forward and saw his head looking around. He was still looking for that hen. I had a narrow shot-window, but I could clearly see his head and neck, so I put the dot on him and squeezed the trigger. I immediately got up and ran out to a clearing, anticipating that I had clipped the tree or somehow missed, but he was laying right there on the trail, 22 yards from the end of my gun.

I let out a barbaric yell to let Micah know I had been successful. I figured he'd know that was a good yell and not an "I shot myself" yell. He came over to join me for some pictures. He asked where the bike was and that's when it hit me: that tom had overshot me, then came straight towards me. When he was right behind me, he would have been within several feet of the bike. Micah and I noticed that I had pushed the bike back off the trail through a "clearing" where it was pretty open (standing in clearing with trail in background in pic below). I bet the bird hit the clearing, decided to take it back to the trail, walked right passed the bike, and then gave one last gobble on the trail. Whew!

I was so excited about getting my first Osceola. I was also glad that Micah spooked that jake because we were only allowed one turkey between us in our daily bag limit. How tortuous would that have been to have a tom working (the first I'd interacted with all week) and then not be able to shoot it?!

I'm not much for racks, beards, and other measures of game animals. I mean, I like to know what I got, but I'm happy shooting a 3-pt buck or a jake turkey. To me, the cool part was getting an Osceola. But it was nice that mine had the longest beard of all the harvested turkeys that weekend.

We hunted again the next day with a clear priority: get one for Micah. Unfortunately, the birds didn't get the memo. We covered a lot of ground and never heard a single turkey from first light until 1pm. As we drove out, we saw a tom strutting just outside the gate and two others crossing a private field about 1/2 a mile away. Not surprised at all.