Kansas Turkey Adventures
- Thread starter kansasdad
- Start date
Aaron and I went to the magical hayfield for an afternoon search for the elusive Kansas gobbling turkey, and we had quite a concert provided for us. Sneaking into the bottom corner of the field, Aaron spotted a hen cruising just inside the fields edge, pecking at this and that, and then she would hold stock still for minutes at a time, before once again bending and picking up mid afternoon snacks. We used the woods to cover our approach, and when she had fed back into the woodlot, we put out two decoys and positioned ourselves for an ambush.
Crows cawing got the toms to gobble. They responded to my calling, and I decided to shut up, and make then come find us. Train horns, crows, other gobbles all caused further gobbling.
I knew just where these gobbles were coming from, and frustratingly, it turns out that I was correct in believeing that this tom would tease us with gobbles that seemed to be approaching, only to think that the next ones were distancing themselves from where we were. A good concert of at least two toms calling for over 15 minutes would be our reward for our trip north as we never saw any legal birds, only hens making an appearance on our side of the fence.
After sunset, I snuck in to the trail camera location. Antler growth has commenced, and at least one doe is nearly ready to drop her fawn/s as she appears quite large.
Crows cawing got the toms to gobble. They responded to my calling, and I decided to shut up, and make then come find us. Train horns, crows, other gobbles all caused further gobbling.
I knew just where these gobbles were coming from, and frustratingly, it turns out that I was correct in believeing that this tom would tease us with gobbles that seemed to be approaching, only to think that the next ones were distancing themselves from where we were. A good concert of at least two toms calling for over 15 minutes would be our reward for our trip north as we never saw any legal birds, only hens making an appearance on our side of the fence.
After sunset, I snuck in to the trail camera location. Antler growth has commenced, and at least one doe is nearly ready to drop her fawn/s as she appears quite large.
Southwind
New member
She is ready to pop!
One of the longest floppiest snoods I have ever photographed. 
These birds love a pecan grove for hanging out or feeding time.
Sometimes when your glassing, that far off tree stump moves!!
About ready to drop that feather.
These birds love a pecan grove for hanging out or feeding time.
Sometimes when your glassing, that far off tree stump moves!!
About ready to drop that feather.
Turkeys like to strut in open spaces. Today a road was deemed a good strutting spot. Parked 100 yards from the strutters I could hear the wingtips scratching the asphalt. 
After leaving the road, this tom found a small clearing in the woods.
Maximum puffball status
A little later, he was joined by a couple of buddies.
After leaving the road, this tom found a small clearing in the woods.
Maximum puffball status
A little later, he was joined by a couple of buddies.
He is a pretty turkey
I can imagine these guys looking for a hot hen to try to impress.
Here is what he thinks of turkey paparazzi.
This tom has long sharp spurs and a bad foot. With left side clubbed toes, I think he must have a harder time latching on to his roosting branch.
I can imagine these guys looking for a hot hen to try to impress.
Here is what he thinks of turkey paparazzi.
This tom has long sharp spurs and a bad foot. With left side clubbed toes, I think he must have a harder time latching on to his roosting branch.
May in Kansas often means "bumpy" weather. Live tornado shots from multiple locations made network TV viewing an impossibility last night.
"My" birds were doing a lot of fluffing and preening this morning after last nights weather shenanigans.
I hope nest destruction and poult deaths will be minimal with the flooding.
"My" birds were doing a lot of fluffing and preening this morning after last nights weather shenanigans.
I hope nest destruction and poult deaths will be minimal with the flooding.
Last edited:
noharleyyet
Well-known member
Every day is Saturday night for gobblers in the spring. Awesome pics Mark.
Last week I was able to "have a go" Friday evening with Katie, Saturday by myself, and Sunday with Aaron. Each night we went to the 80 acres of Kansas hayfield/woodlot nirvana in search of adventure and turkeys. As Katie and I were pulling on our camo, we heard a gobbler sound off south of our property. We looked at each other, and quietly discussed whether we should go up the hill as has been our custom, or should we attempt to draw the tom across the road onto our land. In the end we went to the field, and while there set up a couple of decoys and waited in vain for some birds to heed my calling.
A ladybug portrait with Katie's silhouette as a background.
We left long before the end of legal shooting time to make it to a family dinner. As we were loading up the car, we looked south and saw several turkeys moving along the top of the watershed dam. Silly turkeys (US!!)
Saturday I went up with a plan to make a play for the "southern" birds. I figured that these birds were roosting on our property and then traveling south to feed on agricultural fields further south, and then coming back to our land to roost. I thought I might be able to intercept these birds as they were coming back to roost. As I waited just across the road I would scan the horizon with the binoculars looking for a little head to pop up on the horizon. Success!!
Two hens and a full strut tom put on a show for nearly an hour on the far hillside. Eventually the hens left stage right, with the tom in tow. I tried in vain to overcome the pull of the hens leading him to a roosting spot on the wrong side of the road. SO CLOSE, YET SO FAR.
Sunday night we knew that we wanted to work these southern birds. I dropped Aaron off right where the birds would need to descend the hill, traverse the dam, go through the fence, cross the road, and enter our property. I drove around the corner so as to not have a car parked alongside the road that might tip off the turkeys that hunters were up to no good.
I arrived at the ambush spot just as a little red dot appeared on the hillside. I pointed out to Aaron where the turkeys were coming out of hiding, and we watched as 5 legal birds (spring turkeys must have a beard to be legal) along with one hen spread out across the hillside getting their feedbag on, and showing off how fantastic their strutting skills were.
We decided that we were going to call these birds to us, instead of allowing them to drift off towards a roost across the road. The wind was firmly from the south, so the first soft calls may not have been strong enough to get their attention. Leaning on the slate a little stronger, we saw all the birds snap their heads around when I called the next time. The strutting continued, but there was a generalized shifting towards the dam road, and finally we could tell that some of the birds were nearly to the fence.
These birds found a way to cross the fence, and dropped down onto the county road. We had three birds at 20 yards, and yet we couldn't shoot as they were on the road. I didn't call as these birds moved down the road past us, and we wondered if they were looking for a path through our fence to get into the woods. I called again, and was met with silence. Losing patience, I stood up from the high grass that was hiding us, and took a couple of steps towards the road. Where are they???? On the road, looking for you kansasdad!!. These turkeys were calling their "where are you?" calls and looking for the seductive hen that had drawn them through the fence and onto the road. One bird came right up to our fence and craning his neck stood there for what seemed like hours, looking for that sweet young hen calling to him.
We could here the car coming down the road, and our birds decided to cross back across the road from whence they came rather than come that two more yards they needed to come to avoid sharing the road with the car. SOOOO CLOSE, and yet so far. 20 yards, and three legal birds begging to ride home with us, and we couldn't take the shot.
A ladybug portrait with Katie's silhouette as a background.
We left long before the end of legal shooting time to make it to a family dinner. As we were loading up the car, we looked south and saw several turkeys moving along the top of the watershed dam. Silly turkeys (US!!)
Saturday I went up with a plan to make a play for the "southern" birds. I figured that these birds were roosting on our property and then traveling south to feed on agricultural fields further south, and then coming back to our land to roost. I thought I might be able to intercept these birds as they were coming back to roost. As I waited just across the road I would scan the horizon with the binoculars looking for a little head to pop up on the horizon. Success!!
Two hens and a full strut tom put on a show for nearly an hour on the far hillside. Eventually the hens left stage right, with the tom in tow. I tried in vain to overcome the pull of the hens leading him to a roosting spot on the wrong side of the road. SO CLOSE, YET SO FAR.
Sunday night we knew that we wanted to work these southern birds. I dropped Aaron off right where the birds would need to descend the hill, traverse the dam, go through the fence, cross the road, and enter our property. I drove around the corner so as to not have a car parked alongside the road that might tip off the turkeys that hunters were up to no good.
I arrived at the ambush spot just as a little red dot appeared on the hillside. I pointed out to Aaron where the turkeys were coming out of hiding, and we watched as 5 legal birds (spring turkeys must have a beard to be legal) along with one hen spread out across the hillside getting their feedbag on, and showing off how fantastic their strutting skills were.
We decided that we were going to call these birds to us, instead of allowing them to drift off towards a roost across the road. The wind was firmly from the south, so the first soft calls may not have been strong enough to get their attention. Leaning on the slate a little stronger, we saw all the birds snap their heads around when I called the next time. The strutting continued, but there was a generalized shifting towards the dam road, and finally we could tell that some of the birds were nearly to the fence.
These birds found a way to cross the fence, and dropped down onto the county road. We had three birds at 20 yards, and yet we couldn't shoot as they were on the road. I didn't call as these birds moved down the road past us, and we wondered if they were looking for a path through our fence to get into the woods. I called again, and was met with silence. Losing patience, I stood up from the high grass that was hiding us, and took a couple of steps towards the road. Where are they???? On the road, looking for you kansasdad!!. These turkeys were calling their "where are you?" calls and looking for the seductive hen that had drawn them through the fence and onto the road. One bird came right up to our fence and craning his neck stood there for what seemed like hours, looking for that sweet young hen calling to him.
We could here the car coming down the road, and our birds decided to cross back across the road from whence they came rather than come that two more yards they needed to come to avoid sharing the road with the car. SOOOO CLOSE, and yet so far. 20 yards, and three legal birds begging to ride home with us, and we couldn't take the shot.
Meet IRATE neighbor whose property line doesn't correspond to the fence line and is really unhappy that you are there to persue turkeys.........check.
Driving up out of the hollow to call the property owner to tell him of the encounter with the IRATE neighbor and receive land owners encouragement to carry on.......check.
See a strutting turkey at the northwest corner of the hayfield........check.
Drive around to the bottom of the hill and quickstep it up the hill and bash your way through the wood lot to beat the tom to the northeast corner of the field........check
Set up, catch your breath, realize that you will fight the setting sun until it dips behind the trees, striker up a very sexy hen yelp, and get met with a chorus of gobbles directly north and back to the west before he decides to drift away......check
Call that strutter down the hill on the correct side of the fence/hedgerow to within 60 yards and no further.......check.
Her your daughter say she had a good time with you tonight.......check.
Sweet evening overall. Thanks Kansas.
Driving up out of the hollow to call the property owner to tell him of the encounter with the IRATE neighbor and receive land owners encouragement to carry on.......check.
See a strutting turkey at the northwest corner of the hayfield........check.
Drive around to the bottom of the hill and quickstep it up the hill and bash your way through the wood lot to beat the tom to the northeast corner of the field........check
Set up, catch your breath, realize that you will fight the setting sun until it dips behind the trees, striker up a very sexy hen yelp, and get met with a chorus of gobbles directly north and back to the west before he decides to drift away......check
Call that strutter down the hill on the correct side of the fence/hedgerow to within 60 yards and no further.......check.
Her your daughter say she had a good time with you tonight.......check.
Sweet evening overall. Thanks Kansas.
I pose a question to the forum.........
.......which is more painful?????......
.......trying to stay awake during a dance recital in a stuffy dark auditorium,
........or trying to stay awake on a warmish morning after arising at O-dark-thirty to get in place before the first hint of lightning of the eastern sky?
.......which is more painful?????......
.......trying to stay awake during a dance recital in a stuffy dark auditorium,
........or trying to stay awake on a warmish morning after arising at O-dark-thirty to get in place before the first hint of lightning of the eastern sky?
johnp
Well-known member
o-dark-thirty days for me . As I get older, even a mid day nap doesn't make up for early starts and late sunsets. Dance recitals would be easy to stay awake for compared to after lunch dept review meetings .
noharleyyet
Well-known member
...iffin' it's the right kind of dance hall.....ummmmm
My best naps are in the deer stand.
Kansas spring season ends on the last day of May after being open since April 1st. On the last Friday of May (the first day of a 4 day Memorial Day weekend) kansasson and I thought that there may be one more bird to be found at our local public hunting area. On opening weekend while walking in I counted at least 8 different roosts that had toms gobbling. We had seen one hunter walking out with one of these birds on a previous outing, and had heard various and sundry shotgun blasts make it likely that legal birds were few and very very skittish.
During our walk in on May 27th , we were met with dead silence. Setting up to intercept a bird flying down into the planted cornfield, or moving past us to or from the adjacent field, I had made up my mind to swallow my calls, and not put out any decoys as these late survivors have had the kitchen sink thrown at them, and could probably tell you what brand of call was being used, and even whether the hunter calling on that slate call was using either left or right hand on the striker.
Near sunrise we heard one "weak sauce" gobble behind us, and I thought we were in perfect position for an intercept. We never heard the noise of flydowns, but out in the planted corn field I caught movement. Three hens were wading in the muddy field barely visible when tipping over, and only neck and heads visible when they were upright. They moved out into the middle of the large field feeding away from us, moving towards the part of the field that is first sunlit. On the far treeline we saw several deer out and feeding, and still there was no sight or sound of a legal bird.
Time faded, and Aaron began to get restless. "I think I want to check out the field behind us, he might have flown down in that direction" he said. I reminded him that the birds are on high alert, but if he was sneaky he could make it happen. He moved off into the woods, each step making a sucking noise in the dripping wet mud. Once he realized that he needed to slide his feet sideways to release the wader boot from the mud, he became more than ninja-like to make it happen.
About 10 minutes after he left, I saw that the hens that had drifted west and then south were once again on my side of the field, and headed my way. One hen had left the trio, so the duo kept coming closer, until they were well within shotgun/archery range. Looking in vain for any semblence of a beard, I had to be satisfied with taking several photos of their passage.
These spooky birds somehow sensed Aaron's return before I knew he was sneaking back to where I was seated, and he whispered, "dad, I found him!!"
Out in the middle of the adjacent cornfield, a strutting tom's fan had given his location away. Aaron said he was hopeful that they were in a stalkable spot, and told me where he was headed to get his sneak on. I gave him about 10 minutes of a headstart, and then I moved into a position where I would be able to see this tom way down the other side of the field, and hoped that I could get some good photos of Aaron getting this bird. Still not calling, and simply relying on stealth, I moved to a spot that gave my a good view of the tom and his hens, and decided to wait and watch.
This group of birds were milling about in the muddy cornfield, teasing Aaron by coming slowly closer, then fading back, and once again easing nearer. My legs were cramping pretty badly as I kneeled behind a screen of lilacs. The tom would pop his fan periodically which made it easier to follow his movements, and then sometimes I could see his cherry red neck craning tall over the growing corn. I saw one or maybe two hens leaving the strutting area with some significant haste. Uh-oh, kansasson may have dropped his guard and signaled his presence? Not sure, but at least the tom and some of his hens remained in the cornfield looking quite contented.
I tried to find a more comfortable hiding spot so as to stop the pain in the legs. The next time I looked up, it seemed that the tom was nowhere to be found. What??? And then I saw his fan pop, and he seemed to be headed my way. He was following the corn row and indeed was headed towards me. Time to take your sling off kansasdad! Fumbling with the sling stud, I looked up again, and he really was headed my way. Hunkering down behind the bushes, I looked through a little hole in the leaves, spotting the fan pop, and thought that he was about 150 yards away, and closing. If he continued along the current path, he would come over a little rise in the field about 20 yards out, and it would be kansasdad for the win!
Wait, what, where is he?? No sign of the tom at the time and place I had anticipated. Nearly laying my head on the ground and looking through the bush that was my natural blind, I lost his location. I took a risk and slowly raised my head up to see through a bigger hole in the leaves. Nada. Uh oh. Ever so slowly I raised further up, and in my peripheral vision I caught some movement. 8 yards to my left the lead hen was already nearly past me, and there was another hen behind her. These hens had been leading the parade, with the tom as usual bringing up the rear. His bright red head cleared a shrub 15 yards ahead of me as he and his entourage had surprisingly crossed me up by leaving the corn and drifting into the CRP. Trying to bring my shotgun butt towards my shoulder as slowly and smoothly as I could, I was nearly all there when he turned his head towards me and locked onto my little hideyhole. One surprised "danger!!" putt uttered, he made like a cartoon character and turned himself inside out and tried to exit stage left. My first shot had too much lead for this running bird, and on his next step he was spreading his wings to continue his exit. Boom again, and his flight angle changed, but he continued to gain altitude. One more shell, I centered him up and down he dropped from quite a ways up. Sadly no video, but his body hitting the ground did slightly register on the US Geologic earthquake monitoring system.
I kept hiding in my spot, as I hoped that there may have been another legal bird in the cornfield that I didn't know about and maybe Aaron had a last second chance. He later told me that he knew there was only one tom in the field, but he had fully scoped out every hen, trying to will a beard on one of those turkeys. Looking back over to where the bomber had crash landed and been flopping, I saw that he seemed to be purposefully raising his head off the mud. I made the 25 yard dash to where he lay and laid my boot over his neck to make very certain he was dead.
Aaron joined me several minutes later, unsure at first that it had been me that had shot. "Three shots?" he asked, and I recounted the story, showing him where I had hid, where the birds had passed, and I then asked him to take a look at the bird. This tom is the first double bearded turkey that I had shot, and he immediately realized that this bird had one major beard, and a shorter secondary beard.
I had left the stools, backpack and decoys back where we had first set up. Walking back to the gear with the tom over my shoulder, I looked forward to getting the turkey strap on this bird, as holding him over my shoulder was quite uncomfortable on both hand and shoulder.
The slog back to the car with my son leading the way was hot, muddy and quite satisfying. We joked that we should have brought a sign to put up at the entrance to the parking lot reading something like: "This area no longer has any legal birds, closed for the season"
During our walk in on May 27th , we were met with dead silence. Setting up to intercept a bird flying down into the planted cornfield, or moving past us to or from the adjacent field, I had made up my mind to swallow my calls, and not put out any decoys as these late survivors have had the kitchen sink thrown at them, and could probably tell you what brand of call was being used, and even whether the hunter calling on that slate call was using either left or right hand on the striker.
Near sunrise we heard one "weak sauce" gobble behind us, and I thought we were in perfect position for an intercept. We never heard the noise of flydowns, but out in the planted corn field I caught movement. Three hens were wading in the muddy field barely visible when tipping over, and only neck and heads visible when they were upright. They moved out into the middle of the large field feeding away from us, moving towards the part of the field that is first sunlit. On the far treeline we saw several deer out and feeding, and still there was no sight or sound of a legal bird.
Time faded, and Aaron began to get restless. "I think I want to check out the field behind us, he might have flown down in that direction" he said. I reminded him that the birds are on high alert, but if he was sneaky he could make it happen. He moved off into the woods, each step making a sucking noise in the dripping wet mud. Once he realized that he needed to slide his feet sideways to release the wader boot from the mud, he became more than ninja-like to make it happen.
About 10 minutes after he left, I saw that the hens that had drifted west and then south were once again on my side of the field, and headed my way. One hen had left the trio, so the duo kept coming closer, until they were well within shotgun/archery range. Looking in vain for any semblence of a beard, I had to be satisfied with taking several photos of their passage.
These spooky birds somehow sensed Aaron's return before I knew he was sneaking back to where I was seated, and he whispered, "dad, I found him!!"
Out in the middle of the adjacent cornfield, a strutting tom's fan had given his location away. Aaron said he was hopeful that they were in a stalkable spot, and told me where he was headed to get his sneak on. I gave him about 10 minutes of a headstart, and then I moved into a position where I would be able to see this tom way down the other side of the field, and hoped that I could get some good photos of Aaron getting this bird. Still not calling, and simply relying on stealth, I moved to a spot that gave my a good view of the tom and his hens, and decided to wait and watch.
This group of birds were milling about in the muddy cornfield, teasing Aaron by coming slowly closer, then fading back, and once again easing nearer. My legs were cramping pretty badly as I kneeled behind a screen of lilacs. The tom would pop his fan periodically which made it easier to follow his movements, and then sometimes I could see his cherry red neck craning tall over the growing corn. I saw one or maybe two hens leaving the strutting area with some significant haste. Uh-oh, kansasson may have dropped his guard and signaled his presence? Not sure, but at least the tom and some of his hens remained in the cornfield looking quite contented.
I tried to find a more comfortable hiding spot so as to stop the pain in the legs. The next time I looked up, it seemed that the tom was nowhere to be found. What??? And then I saw his fan pop, and he seemed to be headed my way. He was following the corn row and indeed was headed towards me. Time to take your sling off kansasdad! Fumbling with the sling stud, I looked up again, and he really was headed my way. Hunkering down behind the bushes, I looked through a little hole in the leaves, spotting the fan pop, and thought that he was about 150 yards away, and closing. If he continued along the current path, he would come over a little rise in the field about 20 yards out, and it would be kansasdad for the win!
Wait, what, where is he?? No sign of the tom at the time and place I had anticipated. Nearly laying my head on the ground and looking through the bush that was my natural blind, I lost his location. I took a risk and slowly raised my head up to see through a bigger hole in the leaves. Nada. Uh oh. Ever so slowly I raised further up, and in my peripheral vision I caught some movement. 8 yards to my left the lead hen was already nearly past me, and there was another hen behind her. These hens had been leading the parade, with the tom as usual bringing up the rear. His bright red head cleared a shrub 15 yards ahead of me as he and his entourage had surprisingly crossed me up by leaving the corn and drifting into the CRP. Trying to bring my shotgun butt towards my shoulder as slowly and smoothly as I could, I was nearly all there when he turned his head towards me and locked onto my little hideyhole. One surprised "danger!!" putt uttered, he made like a cartoon character and turned himself inside out and tried to exit stage left. My first shot had too much lead for this running bird, and on his next step he was spreading his wings to continue his exit. Boom again, and his flight angle changed, but he continued to gain altitude. One more shell, I centered him up and down he dropped from quite a ways up. Sadly no video, but his body hitting the ground did slightly register on the US Geologic earthquake monitoring system.
I kept hiding in my spot, as I hoped that there may have been another legal bird in the cornfield that I didn't know about and maybe Aaron had a last second chance. He later told me that he knew there was only one tom in the field, but he had fully scoped out every hen, trying to will a beard on one of those turkeys. Looking back over to where the bomber had crash landed and been flopping, I saw that he seemed to be purposefully raising his head off the mud. I made the 25 yard dash to where he lay and laid my boot over his neck to make very certain he was dead.
Aaron joined me several minutes later, unsure at first that it had been me that had shot. "Three shots?" he asked, and I recounted the story, showing him where I had hid, where the birds had passed, and I then asked him to take a look at the bird. This tom is the first double bearded turkey that I had shot, and he immediately realized that this bird had one major beard, and a shorter secondary beard.
I had left the stools, backpack and decoys back where we had first set up. Walking back to the gear with the tom over my shoulder, I looked forward to getting the turkey strap on this bird, as holding him over my shoulder was quite uncomfortable on both hand and shoulder.
The slog back to the car with my son leading the way was hot, muddy and quite satisfying. We joked that we should have brought a sign to put up at the entrance to the parking lot reading something like: "This area no longer has any legal birds, closed for the season"
Southwind
New member
Congrats, that is a very good bird for the area. I have never shot a double beard there. I really believe that place is better later in the season like you hunted it, the birds that had been spooked east on private ground start to come back to the public. That is pretty indicative from what I have taken there in that the beards tend to be long but not real heavy. How big were his spurs?
Great bird and way to pull it off at the 11th hour brother!
Great bird and way to pull it off at the 11th hour brother!
He was a two year old bird....3/4 and 7/8 spurs not yet sharp and only weighed 16 pounds.
Felt like a hundred pounds after walking through the swamp, er, I mean Corn fields. I think the nearest official weather station recorded 2 2/3 inches of rain over the previous 24 hour period.
Felt like a hundred pounds after walking through the swamp, er, I mean Corn fields. I think the nearest official weather station recorded 2 2/3 inches of rain over the previous 24 hour period.
Southwind
New member
That makes for some fun walking, way to stick with it to the end!
