American Friction - Custom Turkey Calls

My Boy Called His First Wild Turkey!
by Bruce Wurth

It was early afternoon on April Fools' Day 2001 when fourteen-year-old Justin stroked his paddle call and a gobbler responded with a resounding gobble. Justin looked at me and said, "How did you know?" I knew a young gobbler resided in the area from my pre-season scouting, but I didn't tell Justin. This was the opening weekend of spring turkey season and the first time Justin had ever had a gobbler respond to yelps he had made! He was shocked to say the least. I was a very proud father when he harvested that bird.

Earlier that day Justin and I were in the bottom of Green Canyon, which is located on a cattle ranch in Northern California. We had worked our way into a set-up position in the pre-dawn hours. We knew a monstrous gobbler and his hens were roosted a hundred yards or so up the canyon. We had put several birds to bed the evening before and had chosen this bird for the morning hunt. I started my calling right after fly down. Most of the time I wait until after fly down before making my first call. After a few calls, and getting responses from the gobbler and hens alike, one hen came into our decoys. Another hen stood off about fifty yards and just yelped her head off. She was very mad at us for calling in her area. Meanwhile, and much to our disappointment, the gobbler and a couple of other hens headed up the canyon and away from our set-up.

I told Justin that I knew we should have set-up up canyon from the birds and not down canyon from them. In this particular canyon, as the case is in most western mountains, turkeys head up-stream or up-hill after fly down. One would think that after all the years I have turkey hunted I would not make any more mistakes. The hen that came into our decoys decided to hang out for thirty or forty minutes. All the while the gobbler was moving further away and I was very frustrated because I wanted to move. Justin and I listened to his gobbles fade away.

What I did not want to do is spook the hen that was amongst our decoys. I take a very low impact approach to hunting turkeys. In other words, I try and never let any turkey see me. Educated hens will ruin a hunt just as fast as an educated gobbler. At least with an educated gobbler one can hopefully harvest him. An educated hen hangs around for years. We don't shoot hens! So it's best not to educate them. Anyhow, she finally went away. Now, I wanted to try and get ahead of this big gobbler and I knew it was going to take a lot of effort.

This mountainous country is what I refer to as big country. The canyons in this area are steep, big, wide, deep, and the terrain is open. It takes a lot of extra effort to get around. Finally, Justin and I headed up hill and out of Green Canyon. Once over the top and in the next canyon over we moved up-hill fast. After we had moved about three quarters of a mile we crossed back over the top and into the bottom of Green Canyon. We setup and I managed to call another hen but I could not get another gobble.

Justin and I moved further up the bottom and continued to call, but silence was the only response we got. It was getting to be late morning and I could not get a gobble. We had worked our way to the property line and now had to head back the way we had come. Walking along disheartened, I was trying my best to get my boy a gobbler. So again, I hammered hard on my paddle call and got no response. Then out of the creek bed, forty yards ahead, came a lone hen.

We were caught out in the open, fifteen yards from any trees. When the hen went behind a tree I sat down, then laid down in the grass that was about six inches tall. I told Justin to do the same and he did. Another hen came out of the creek area. I whispered to Justin "I'll bet that a gobbler will come out next. My guess was correct. It was the boss gobbler, the bird that had whipped every other gobbler in the area and the same bird we had set-up on early that morning.

At forty-plus yards I thought he was just out of range. I called and to my surprise the hens and gobbler worked their way towards us. They were somewhat apprehensive of two lumps lying in the grass but they were going to pass by at about thirty yards. When the gobbler was in range I told Justin to take him. The bird was off to Justin's right side so he had to turn to get a shot. You guessed it Justin moved, the bird spooked and that was the end of story. That's OK because John Higgley harvested him the next weekend. He was 21lbs, 10-5/8" beard, and 1-1/8" spurs, but that's a different story.

Now, I get a little upset when I decided to take a bird and do not get that bird in hand. So to avoid giving Justin a hard time I walked off down a cow trail. I set-up when I was about four hundred yards down the trail. About ten minutes later Justin came slowly walking by and I called his name. I was about ten yards away from him sitting against one of about six small oak trees. I watched as his eyes searched for me. He called for me twice and asked where I was. I ever so slightly waved my hand. His response was "Oh there you are," and I said, "see what movement does for you" trying to emphasize a lesson. Justin said to me "What was I supposed to do" and "did you see the rattle snake in the trail back there" Walking down the cow trail, I had walked right over a forty-three inch rattler. I teased the snake for a while and made him rattle so Justin could hear what one sounds like. We got the snake for dinner and that made things better.

Justin and I left Green Canyon and headed for the other side of the ranch. After stopping in at camp for a bit to eat we arrived at the head of what's called the Dallas Pasture. It's a flat bottom canyon area that runs for about two miles. I knew, although Justin did not, that there was a bird that resided at the end of this pasture. I also knew it would take us an hour or so to get to where he was. I was hoping that we could pick up a bird along the way. I was also giving Justin lots of time to practice calling since whenever someone hunts with me I always do the calling. I guess with my children I should have made them call at some point, but I never have. That is until this day. We have always practiced at home or in camp, so the kids know how to make sounds like a turkey. What they don't know is situation calling and that's 99% of what's needed. My mistake!

As we entered the head of the Dallas Pasture I turned to Justin and said, "Call". He always carries his calls. Justin responded in surprise "Me?" "Yes," I said "You!" "But I don't", "Call" I said, "But", "Ok, I'll show you once", "You have heard me call for years and I'm tired of calling birds for you and you spooking them off". I thought, be nice and take it easy on the boy. "If you are going to spook a bird off it's going to be one you called." "Now get your call out and I'll help".

For the next hour he practiced calling and we talked about turkey situations. I was getting him ready for that young gobbler's answer that I knew was just around the corner. I was also determined not to help when that bird answered Justin's call. When we got to the end of the Dallas Pasture, where it opens up into a wide-open area, I placed a decoy. Justin asked me "Why are you putting out a decoy?" I replied, "call". Guess what happened? You got it, a bird gobbled. Justin looked at me and asked, "How did you know?" "Your daddy's smart!" I said, "Now what are you going to do?" "Set-up" he answered and I asked where?

Justin picked the set-up spot and we both dawned our head nets and gloves. Justin asked me if he should call again. I asked Justin what he thought. He told me he thought he should. I asked, "What are you waiting for?" He called and, again another gobble! I told Justin that I was not going to help him and that this bird was his. Whether he got this bird or lost it was going to be on him. Justin waited a few minutes and called, the gobbler responded with a double gobble.

Now Justin knew it was all on him and he was doing a darn good job. You know, he learned from one of the best! He called sparingly and the bird was on the move toward us. After about ten minutes we saw the bird. At about forty-five yards the bird stopped, strutted, and gobbled. He was in view and Justin knew he could not call with the bird being so close and in easy eye contact. But the bird was hung-up. I imagine Justin's brain screamed WHAT SHOULD I DO? He panicked and asked that in a whisper. I did not answer and in a more panicked whispered he said, "You'd better call dad!" "No" I whispered back. Again he asked in a panic "What should I do?" My response was "What do you think?" Justin's reply was "I think I should wait" and I told him I though that was a good idea.

All of us who have hunted turkeys know these feelings. I was having a blast, because this was my son's first time. Justin was correct the bird did not need any more coaxing. As this young gobbler moved well into range Justin again inquired in a whispered if he was in range. Again I resolved to ask what he thought. Justin's response was "I think he is." I said, "Then what are you waiting for!" There is that moment when one knows he is going to take the shot and the whole world slows down. The safety was moved into the firing position. I knew that a great moment was about to happen.

It has got to be one of turkey hunting's greatest joy's watching your child call his or hers first wild turkey gobbler. What would follow would be celebration, laughter, stories, and tears of joy! Justin dropped the hammer! BOOM!!!!

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