By Mike Roche

Tuesday morning found this writer in Leavenworth, Kansas, for the turkey season opener. For over 20 years it has been my serious duty to travel to Kansas and visit my younger sister Pat Wolf, because that is what good brothers do. The fact that these April visits come at the time of the Kansas spring turkey hunting season is merely a coincidence.

An exception occurred last April when the Kansas Department of Wildlife and Parks, in response to sharply declining turkey numbers, reduced the numbers of nonresident turkey hunting permits by 75% and my name was not drawn. Fortunately, the network of horse owners who compromise a large portion of my sister’s friends include a number who live in neighboring Missouri, which is only a short drive. That resulted in my buying a Missouri turkey tag and filling it the opening morning and keeping my string of visits intact.

This year my name was drawn for a Kansas tag. There was a slight setback when a very large piece of land which was used by the Leavenworth Hunt Club for “hunts,” where their horses follow hounds that now pursue coyotes instead of foxes, was sold. That property was also a great place for turkey hunting and “the brother” was able to take a number of gobblers on the property. Like a good sister, Pat reached out once more and other places were lined up for me to hunt at.

An hour before dawn, my owl hoot (done by mouth as taught by the late, great Randy Julius) was answered by a gobble and the game was on! After setting a hen decoy in the pasture, the perfect spot for my turkey lounger chair was selected and the wait began.

After things settled down, the slate call made by my good friend and outdoor writer/call maker Stu Bristol was used for some soft “tree calls” and the gobbler knew exactly where this seductive hen was located. A half hour of gobbles later, things got silent. Then a softer gobble informed me that the tom had flown down and was now on the opposite side of what locals call a “hollow” and that was followed by silence that indicated that he was with hens.

After a wait, the decoy was picked up and a short walk resulted in my catching a glimpse of the displaying mature gobbler following a group of what appeared to be at least a half dozen hens. A pause to think about options resulted in a slow circling of the pasture on my side, with stops for calling, and then back to square one.

Since this was only my second time on the property, a trip across the hollow, which involved walking carefully down and then back up the steep incline, brought me to where the birds had last been observed. Standing just below the hilltop, things got interesting! A large tom, sporting a very long beard, was just cresting the hill from the other side. It was hard to determine if he had spotted me as he was desperately trying to figure out how to get through the six-foot-high stock fence.

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Forty yards away, yours truly watched the show as the bird raced back and forth in each direction repeatedly. Adding to the drama was gobbles emanating from the adjacent property on the other side of the stock fence where another gobbler was obviously with the hens. The tom in front of me would gobble or respond when the other tom did as he trotted back and forth.

This went on for 10 minutes while I knelt and watched. The bird was in range, particularly if the 3 ½ inch Federal blend of #5, #6, and #7 heavy shot was loaded from my pocket to replace the #7 TSS round. However, killing a turkey under those circumstances, and particularly on opening morning, was not something that was going to happen. I did, however, take a picture and a short video clip of the confused bird for posterity.

Driving back, my self-doubt kicked in when processing the weather forecast for the remainder of my stay. The next few days would feature a continuation of strong winds, which always make turkey hunting less enjoyable, and rains. The precipitation would include thunderstorms and what a local meteorologist referred to as a “deluge.” The following day was scheduled for a hunt with my good friend Kin Hickman and he is one of the few people who this turkey hunter would join on a rainy day.

Pat, her husband Jim and I will make our mandatory trip to Cabela’s and buy some waterproofing spray for my turkey hunting jacket and turn up our collar. At this point, my years of turkey hunting have gotten me to a point where turkey hunting and the experiences with wildlife and good friends like Kin are more important than bagging another gobbler. As has been said many times, “when you pull the trigger the fun ends and the work begins!”

Some good news on my right arm. After starting physical therapy at Athol Memorial Hospital before leaving and diligently doing the recommended exercises, there is daily improvement and almost no limitations to my daily and hunting life. A big thank you to those who offered support!

Mike Roche is a retired teacher who has been involved in conservation and wildlife issues his entire life. He has written the Sportsman’s Corner since 1984 and has served as advisor to the Mahar Fish’N Game Club, counselor and director of the Massachusetts Conservation Camp, former Connecticut Valley District representative on the Massachusetts Fisheries and Wildlife Board, a Massachusetts Hunter Education Instructor and is a licensed New York hunting guide. He can be reached at mikeroche3@msn.com.