I have been having a tougher time that most people on this thread. Turkey hunting on public is tough, and I'm not real good at it. In Iowa, we are allowed two tags. The first can be any of 4 seasons, but the second must be a fourth season.
I elected a 1st season although it can be snow and cold. I hunted 3 of the 4 days, and got one nice day out of it. But no birds on public. There was a gobbler talking right under this eagle nest, but it was across a river on private.
This is ended up being my 1st season trophy bird...
I switched to a different, steeper, area for my second tag. It's a place that is rough enough that basically no one is stupid enough to hunt there. Birds tend to roost on or close to the public boundaries and then walk up to spend the days on the edges of private fields. In other years, I've tried to get close to the fields and call one in to public. As with 1st season, the 4th season birds have been almost completely silent, and I never got to hear one gobble off the roost.
High winds have been both bad and good. The birds don't like the winds, but it also concentrates them in sheltered areas and, more importantly, blows them off the private high ground. So I developed a routine of crawling down ridges in a very steep ravine complex and calling for a few minutes, waiting a while, and then moving on. I got a couple of birds to come in, but mostly hens. Several times, I bumped birds that were coming to me, but my patience had worn out so I was on the move and the saw me first. One was a gobbler that saw me first and bailed out faster than I could draw and shoot.
Finally, yesterday, I heard a bird on the roost and decided to try to cozy up to him and whisper sweet nothings in his ears. I ended up getting too close and suddenly saw him and, as it turns out, two others at about 60-80 yds. I don't know how they did not see me. But they called and strutted in the trees for 20 minutes while I made a few calls from a very steep and slippery ridge side. It was a bad spot to set up, but I didn't dare move forward or back, once I realized that they were right on top of me.
Eventually, they flew down into a saddle on the knife ridge where I could not see them. They would either go up the ridge, to private (most likely), or come down to me - about 60 yds away. I bet that, if they came at all, I would need my gun on the right side of a 6" tree. Wrong bet.
The lead bird first popped up directly above me to my extreme left. No cover there for me. I hid behind my backpack (still on my back), and he walked up to within 15 ft. I contemplating trying to pull my 30" barreled 1897 Winchester back about 3 ft, go around the tree, and take a shot. Uphill, it would probably have been a Texas heart shot, so I passed. He got nervous in a minute and left the way he had came.
I figured he was probably gone for good, but if not, I gambled that he, or another, would return on that same side of the tree, so swapped sides. Meanwhile, I heard a tom over the ridge crest putt once. It did not sound good, but in a moment, a head appeared for just a second. He was close and moving back to the right. Move the gun back to the right? I decided to stand pat. Shortly, he reappeared, this time walking quickly to the right. I had only a second to make very awkward 15 yard shot. Down he went. Down and down and down some more. He finally stopped 70 yds down the hill. The long tumble fractured his femur and he bled out, though already dead from a head shot.
As he lay, with Grandpa's 1897 Winchester
Finally bloodied my Seek Outside Peregrine pack too. It may never carry the elk I bought it for, but it is a damn fine turkey pack too.
25 lb, 9 oz. Not too bad for a late season bird. But at last, my carnitas are assured. Wild turkey leg carnitas are just about my favorite wild game meal these days and I was getting worried.