Charlie Elk

pseudonym of a man

Wisconsin Collector Stamps; How to order

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There was a time when hunters and fisherman received the actual stamp at the time of in person purchase.  Nowadays we all buy our sporting licenses digitally, and the stamp fee is listed on our receipt to prove we have paid.  For the most part, hunters just pocket their receipt or in some cases load it onto a smart phone and head for the fields, marshes, and forests.  In all the

the excitement of preparing for the hunt, the last thing we think about is an artistic stamp.

Not long ago the Wisconsin Department of Natural Resources announced the artists who won the collector stamp competition.  This news got me to thinking about, “back in the day”… where upon it dawned on me that I have a lot of the old stamps. Are these new stamps available even to those who purchase licenses online?  The answer is YES.

2017 Wisconsin great lakes salmon trout stamp

To see the contest results and rules for upcoming stamp competition go the Wisconsin DNR website and enter key word “stamps” in the search bar.  The artists compete for the honor of being the best; they are not compensated monetarily, their work is a donation to the cause.  Of course by competing they get publicity for their work and bragging rights if they win.  My grandpa also said, “it ain’t bragging if you do it.” and “no brag, just fact.”

2017 Wisconsin Pheasant Stamp

2016 WI state waterfowl stamp

 

 

 

 

 

 

To obtain stamps for previously purchased stamp privileges:
If you purchased a license for the previous or current year with the Wildlife or Fish Stamp privilege(s) you can obtain the stamps by the following methods:

  1. Request your stamp online by completing the Online Order Form;
  2. At any DNR Service Center.

Anyone can purchase Wisconsin collector stamps by:

  1. by mail using the Collector Stamp Order (form 9400-567) [PDF]
  2. at any DNR Service Center.

The funds raised through the purchase of these stamps are used to improve habitat.  I encourage more people to step up and do their part

2017 WI trout stamp

to improve wildlife and fishery habitat across the state of Wisconsin.  Some folks are probably wondering why charlie has the fishing stamps; each year I purchase the Conservation Patron license, this license includes the financial requirements for almost all the outdoor activities in WI.  Even though I do not use the state park system, rarely fish and only sometimes trap I recognize these are important aspects of outdoor recreation that deserve support so that all can enjoy pursuits of the outdoors now and in the future.  Money well spent.

2016 WI pheasant stamp

 

Leupold LTO Thermal Tracker Viewer; User Review

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A hunter who is planning to purchase a Leupold LTO thermal tracker to use for finding downed game–Save your money.  If you are thinking of using this unit for security, then it might be worth it.  The LTO works for seeing intruders outside in cleared areas around buildings if there is nothing in the way.  In other words, it can function as a limited night vision scope.

In July Cabelas gave me a special price, $499 plus free shipping.  I’d been reading the professional/celebrity hunter reviews regarding this tracker. Heck, sounded like the solution to those difficult tracking problems particularly during the early season bow hunts when the Wisconsin vegetation makes seeing a downed deer or bear nearly impossible until you bump into it.

Sadly, this does not perform well under field conditions.

For many years I’ve been a big fan of Leupold optics, so I expected this tracker to work as advertised.  Sadly, it does not live up to the hype.  Here the selling points:

  • Operating Temperature: -4F to 140F – The temps I used it ranged from 65F – 90F.  If anything was between the target and the tracker heat interference was so intense the target could not be discerned.
  • Detection Distance: 600 Yards- No way this thing can help you see anything at 600 yards distance.  In the dark, looking for some horses and cows standing 200 yards distance. Nope, could not identify them, they were just “heat lumps” mixed in with the heat rising from the pasture and fence posts.  If a deer had been down somewhere in that field, the hunter would have had to walk around checking out thousands of heat signatures.  My flashlight did a better job of locating the animals.
  • Six optional thermal palettes and adjustable reticle – Yes has these but they were not helpful dealing with any background or foreground heat signatures.  Heat from everything; trees, grass, brush and the gravel road showed up on the screen as blurry colored heat spots.
  • Find game using thermal imaging – The prime reason I purchased.  Wanted this LTO to work and I tried to find ways to make it work for finding downed game.  I killed a rabbit for some fresh animal blood to experiment with, not to worry we ate the rabbit meat.  I could not see the blood spots using the LTO during the day or in the dark. The rabbit lying dead in the lawn was obscured by background heat on the screen even though I could plainly see it.  It seemed like the rabbit’s fur blocked its body heat.  The only heat was on its nose and the openings of the ears.

Fur blocks body heat!?

Yes, it does.

My Siberian husky has a lot dense fur (as do deer), and only her nose and eyes showed up on the Leupold LTO.  My Vizsla has short hair; his body heat signature showed.  However, when he entered long wispy grass, he disappeared from the LTO screen.  It is puzzling that anyone who has sorted through a challenging trail would find this unit helpful. I suspect those reviewers who claim that the Leupold LTO is going to make hunters “lazy trackers” because it is so easy to find downed game have not used this product in the field or bothered to test it under any semblance of conditions on the ground.

I concluded, after using the Leupold thermal tracker under conditions commonly encountered while hunting that it will be more of a hindrance than a help.  There are no technological shortcuts to finding game animals.  Hunters must train themselves and continue to practice good woodsmanship.  Thankfully, I purchased it from Cabelas and was able to return it for a full refund.

How Hen and Poults Roost Photo Essay

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Thanks to Tennesse Magazine for these photos

Wild turkey on the roost with her poults trying to give them the best shelter that she can provide.

Giving shelter with her wings

Notice the large lateral branches the hen has chosen. When scouting note trees with these types of branching, wild turkeys favor them for roosting.

Looks like the poults are getting unruly–Yelp!

 

Attention, something is coming our way.

Notice how small these poults are and they’re sitting up in a large tree already.

 

Looks to be more peaceful while the kids were in the eggs.

Looks like the nesting hen is turning her eggs.

Please post your captions in the comments.  Enjoy. 

Wyoming Snow Turkeys

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In many parts of the country, July spells are hot, or July suffers hot spells, in any case, the heat can be oppressive.  While all this is happening memories of snow and frozen turkeys sound extra appealing. After experiencing an intoxicating Colorado turkey hunt that came to an end much faster than anticipated any “regular” turkey hunter would try to figure out where to hunt next.  Well, Wyoming is on the way home from Colorado to Wisconsin, right?

At times it seems like Nebraska is everywhere

On the drive north to Wyoming, hey forgot about having to traverse Nebraska too, the weather forecast for Sundance not only contained rain.  But the rain was expected to turn into snow by morning in the shadow of Devil’s Tower.  Change of plans on the fly seemed a prudent choice.  Check the Wyoming map, err; What Wyoming map?  A stop at the Sidney Cabelas fixed that problem with the purchase of aWyoming onXmap GPS map chip.  Cell phones do not work where there is prime hunting in the hills of Wyoming.

Wunderground has personal weather stations all over the country for which they provide point weather forecasts.  Due to incoming weather, my decision was to hunt much further south than usual where only rain was supposed to fall during the night. The map chip got me to a remote campsite in an area with lots of potential and high enough that I should be able to hear morning turkeys for quite a distance.

Totally content, sipping a hot cup of coffee in a snug camp I figured I’d better refresh the old memory about the ins and outs of Wyoming hunting regulations.  “You have got to be kidding!?” my brain silently screamed, a habitat stamp is required, and the kindly elder lady at the gas station forgot to mention when I asked if this is all the license needed to hunt turkeys.  Oh, well, bless her, my mother wouldn’t have told me any different.

Turkey hunting destinies do not work out in obvious ways. The jeep’s bouncing along in the dark on my camp’s trail signaling the 160+ mile habitat stamp round trip was nearly the end.  I now felt like something great was going to happen in the morning.  Thank goodness that Shopko had still been open on this fateful Sunday.

At my predawn awakening, it was evident by the sag in the tent, that snow had moved further south.  The good news, the temperature was

Wyoming spring turkey hunt welcome mat

well below freezing which ensured the Colorado gobbler was frozen solid, likely for the duration of the expedition.

At this point in the story, I’d love to write about toms on every mountain top angrily gobbling the snow away and stomping in practically tripping over their beards.  But, alas, that is not the way the day went.   This turkey hunter did his share, make that more than his share of tromping or slipping up then down hill and dale to the tune of a gobble-less day.

My body tells time, there is no sense to wearing a watch or checking a phone see what the time is, a turkey hunter must learn to operate on turkey time.  Whatever in the world that is exactly.  Unmistakably, it was approaching evening meaning it would be a good idea to move from my after dinner relaxation and into putting a gobbler to bed mode.  Camp is remote, thankfully, I shouldn’t have to travel far, just to point over there and make some turkey talk.

Stretching as I stood up from a good camp meal I put the wingbone call to my lips and let loose some plaintive lost yelps immediately answered by the first gobble of the day.  The sound echoed making it difficult to tell where it emanated from, yelped again.  By golly, those birds are close and getting closer fast!

Grabbed the shotgun and started heading for some kind of a setup.  As any experienced turkey hunter can attest a “setup” can be overrated in particular when you see the strutters heading your way across an open alpine meadow.  Hunter movement is not helpful in this case, so I artlessly hide standing behind the closest towering Ponderosa pine.

The gobbling has stopped for what seems an eternity.  A peek to see what is going is imperative in my mind.   The peek reveals two toms strutting on their toes as if a pair of ballerinas.  At thirty yards it’s time to get to the shooting part.  Mountain Merriams are not noted for how close they get to a hunter.

As I stepped around and even with the tree keeping my left shoulder in contact the far gobbler drops out of strut and begins eating!  The near tom stays in half strut while extending his neck to get a better look at the expanding tree.

This is why it is important to camp where the game is rather than staying miles away.

Perhaps he thought the shotgun was just a growing branch.  Somethings we will never know.

 

 

 

Nightfall brought clear sky with bright stars.

Nothing to do now except enjoy the evening.

A Sensational Turkey Hunter Goof Up

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Luck is an indispensable asset during any successful turkey hunt.  Not just luck at the beginning but it requires luck at every intersection of the hunt.  Take for example one of my recent hunts during Wisconsin’s last spring season.   I had a surefire plan, also known in turkey hunting parlance as a preconceived notion.

The previous day I had a six and half hour calling duel with a blabber beak type of gobbler who did not have the good manners to come and show himself.  We introduced ourselves at 8:45 A and chatted back and forth until 3:15 P. Tried the silent treatment on him several times, needed a break from all the noise not to mention the old fingers were in need of rest.  Plus the wingbone pucker needed to ease off my face. But each time he matched the silence while moving off 100+ yards to then give that nana you can’t get me gobbles, this only made me more determined to kill him.  No luck, so all that night as I slept, I dreamed up – The Plan.

After the three miles foggy Mississippi River boat ride, the tedious wet slog to Mr. Babbler Beak’s haunt begin.  The determination to get this particular bird was dominating my thoughts even though a wrong step could have frigid water pouring into my knee boots.  Swamp turkeys can be most provoking.

Less than a quarter of the way into the plan an urgent gobble erupts.  An unaccounted for occurrence in the hunt is an intersection; the hunter must decide to continue or change of mind.  An easy decision, change of the plan.  I figured out a doable setup on a relatively dry finger of land, a few soft tree yelps and settled in for fly down.

Air swooshing through feathers followed by a dull thud marked his landing.  Scratching out the most urgent yelps I could muster brought a robust series of approaching gobbles.  Down went the slate and up with the gun, just in time he’s right there in strut with two hens flanking him.  When he moves clear, the blast swirls the fog, and I launch up to claim my prize.

Except, there is no prize laying there.  What the heck?  I saw him go down, after searching the area I turn around to go back to the setup, perhaps I’m looking in the wrong spot. Uh, no, that ripped down sapling caught all the shot.  The tom is unscathed.

I Swear there really was a turkey there, while sitting against this tree.

Here  I am at another intersection, is this a sign to go on with the original plan or stay in the area and pursue this lucky gobbler.

Working my way in the direction the hens went pays off.  They flush, rising straight up above the oaks heading different directions, excellent they are out the picture.  The tom should miss them at some point and call out for his ladies.  I grin when he does – I’ll do the answering.

One of the hens had a nest on an elevated piece of ground to keep it out of the coming flood.

Like the hands on a clock, I move forward listening carefully.  At different points, a couple of does break cover crashing off leaving behind their well-hidden fawns. Who can pass up taking those pictures?

Need to be careful where a hunter steps today.

Another one! I really have to watch my step.

Gobbling begins in earnest somewhere up ahead, can’t pinpoint it exactly as I continue moving forward until I realize he is on another strip of land to the east.  The water is too deep to cross so backtracking is required to a more amicable crossing point. Dang river has been at flood stage all spring making stealthy approaches on longbeards difficult at best.

The woodland is open, full of mature maples and oaks with good visibility on the strip he chose.  This is good news in that I have a better chance of seeing him and bad news, he has an even better opportunity to see me.  Move down a bank to sneak along the water’s edge, slipping on the mud occasionally but this breaks up my outline while allowing to see.

The tom’s course yelps carry through the mist to my ears telling me it is time to pick a spot and start talking turkey. Of course, these spots are never perfect, my seat sinks down, no matter it is showtime.  My first calls are answered with robust gobbling that is closing in.  And, of course, he is across the water from me as he walks by out of range.  I amp up my calling as soon as his head goes behind some trees this causes him to spin back and walk his back trail right past out of range.  My calls continue every time he can’t see me, his gobbles start to fade with distance.  My hope is he is going cross back to my side somewhere up ahead.  Taking advantage of the pause in action I reposition into a convenient blow down which provides me better cover and good visibility.

There’s a white/blue head bobbing its way towards me, stopping to look for danger and hens.  At fifty yards he goes behind and large maple,

Turkey hunting is great if for no other reason plans change

seemed like he stayed there for an eternity.  When a gobbler is searching like this silence is a turkey hunter’s friend.  His juking head preceded him as came out trotting in full strut facing my position.  At thirty yards dropped out of strut to start yelping.  I won’t claim to know

The shot caught him mid yelp.

what he was saying in “turkey speak” but those were his last words.

 

 

 

Stressed Hen Turkey Struts and Drags Wings

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Submitted by AWTDA
It’s a hard life, trying to protect seven babies by yourself! This hyper hen was in a near perpetual 3/4 tail strut, almost dragging her wings,
warning anybody that sees her she’s a formidable threat. Notice her head position is always on alert, she rarely gets something to eat herself, always on a lookout for danger. Where are them big tough gobblers, when a mother could use a little help around here?

Do hens suffer from the loss of gobblers? For more tiptoeing around the issue see AWTDA

What did the Hen say to Her Poults Before Crossing the Road

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Updated July 5, 2017

Courtesy of American Wild Turkey Hunting Dog Association

Notice how smart birds are, that they know enough to get off the road when a car is coming? As if they tell the young ones: “Be careful crossing the road, your great, great, great Aunt Matilda was killed by a car and don’t you forget it!”

How many are left?

What’s the odds of one hen’s 13 poults surviving until 2 weeks old? We
got a good count when they crossed the road this morning.

14 turkeys survived the fireworks, a 1/4 mile from their roost last night. Watch a 25 second video in Vivid Color from this morning

Video of Wisconsin Wild Turkey Hen with Poults; Video added

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Here is another hen with her brood this morning. A beautiful hatch, despite that it has rained 15 out of the last 17 days here. Either it’s an old wives tale that getting wet will kill poults when less than 3 days old, or Wisconsin turkeys have evolved to tolerate it.
I count 13 poults. Only saw the one hen, but I suspect her cohort(s) was/were nearby. Two or more related hens will often lay eggs in the same nest, take turns setting, serving as sentinel and raising the brood, with adjacent barren hens and male turkeys announcing danger in the neighborhood.
Notice this hen has a slight beard – never shoot bearded hens.
How old do you think these poults are on June 29, 02017?
At 44.27° N Latitude in Wisconsin.

Update June 30, 2017 – Next day video

Going the other direction today. Four poults flew 3′ off the ground, by tonight they’ll roost in the trees.

More video July 1, 2017

Waited a long time for them to cross the road, to get a good count on the 13 poults (believe there’s 7 in the first group). Haven’t seen another hen yet in the last 3 days, so they must be all hers. It’s rained 16 out of the last 18 days here too. Join the AWTHDA, members receive access to exclusive content.

How does she protect 13 little ones by herself?!

Hard to Stop Turkey Hunting

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The last day of Wisconsin’s 2017 wild turkey hunt dawned quiet, very quiet; at least as far as turkey sounds are concerned.  The usual bird rush hour was in its normal fine form, but on this morning the turkeys apparently had other plans.  The season has been rewardingly long this spring from the first week in April hunting Colorado Rios, moving up to Wyoming Black Hills for a snowy Merriam and back to

Take time to teach the next generation of hunters.

Wisconsin for some youth hunt mentoring until my first Wisconsin tag validation the last week of April.  Not a morning missed, rain, shine, or somewhere in between and now here I set wearily reflecting on it all to the sounds of silence, the 30th of May with no complaints or regrets.  Yeah, I missed a turkey or two and zigged when a zag was needed more often than I care to remember.  It’s not good to focus on negative thoughts because if you do, they become self-fulfilling prophecies.

As the morning birdie rush hours fade into memory, I stand, stretch and give thanks.  Wild turkey season has come to an end for me…Until later while walking the dogs, a lone gobbler takes to flight out of the VPA field and glides lazily to the opposite woodlot.  It’s 1:30 in the afternoon, the season is still open, and I have two unpunched tags left.  VPA is private land that the Wisconsin DNR leases for public access, the field is open for hunting but as is so typical the woodlot is not enrolled, so it is closed to hunting without permission of the landowner.

The internal debate heats up; tiredness makes its nagging request just to forget him and rest.  While the prey drive says “two open tags and several hours to hunt a gobbler you can call out to kill.”

I feel sorry for the poor dogs after promising them on my return this morning that my hunt was over until the fall season and Vic would get the hunt the next time.  Funny thing about plans, they are subject to change, and here I am setting up in some long grass barely able to see the freshly planted corn field, calling on a tongue teaser to what seems like wide open empty spaces.

2017 spring’s most effective call for me

As 3:00 rolls around my sanity in some quarters would be questioned and the of quitting continues to grow in appeal.  The sun seems searing in intensity; you’d think the biting gnats would have their wings burned off, sadly it just appears to energize their bloodlust.

Time crawls to only 3:15; Has my watch stopped?  Ok, enough for one spring; as I roll off the gobbler lounger to take a final 360 look around a neon blue spot moves on my right…How in the heck did he get that close without being seen? And, as always, these birds come in from the direction least expected.

Rarely, is movement helpful when a standing tom is staring at you at close range.  However, he must have thought another turkey was moving around in the long grass causing him to up periscope for a better look-see, a fatal mistake.  I rose to my knees and looked at the twitching gobbler through the shot-tunnel in the grass.  Must be a mirage! Another tom is closing fast, heading directly to the dead bird and the end of my barrel.

Two toms, side by side.

For a moment I thought it was just a dream, so I waited for the empty field to rematerialize.  But you know, the weight of 40+ pounds of turkey over your back brings reality into focus.  On the half mile stroll back to the truck there was a moment or two when the memory of turkey tags still available and the season does not close until 8p something…hmm.

Run’n’Gun or Sit’n’Wait: Why Not Both?

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By Huntfishtrap

Most turkey hunters seem to fall into one of two camps – on one side you have the people who prefer to sit in one spot and wait for the turkeys to come to them, while on the other you have the folks who like to keep moving as much as possible. And both camps generally think their way is best. It’s kind of like politics, only (usually!) more polite. They each have their pros and cons, and you can be very successful using either strategy, but I prefer a more situational approach, where I let the needs of a specific hunt dictate what kind of tactics I use. I think the following story illustrates the benefits of this approach very well. 

Going into our 2nd shotgun season this past spring, my hopes were high, as I had roosted 3 birds on one of my favorite properties a few days before. I expected a relatively short hunt on opening day, and my expectations were met, although not quite in the way I envisioned. Despite picture-perfect weather that morning, there was very little gobbling on the roost anywhere within earshot, and none at all on the property I was hunting, nor on the neighboring one where I also had permission. I set up anyway, and stayed until 7 AM, but heard nothing close except for a few hen yelps. I knew there had to be gobblers around but was getting impatient, so decided to go elsewhere in search of more cooperative birds. 

I drove to another property a couple of miles away from where I’ve often had good luck later in the morning. This is a small farm, only about 35 acres, but I’ve killed a number of gobblers there. They generally roost on the neighboring properties and congregate on this one after fly-down. I set up just inside the woods on the back side of a small cornfield and made a few series of yelps. After my 2nd or 3rd series, a gobbler answered me from the neighboring property to the north. The tom was about 300 yards away, so I decided to cut the distance between us as much as I could, and eased down over the crest of the hill on which I’d been sitting until I was about 75 yards from the property line. I don’t know if he spotted me moving, or just wasn’t that interested, but after the 2 initial gobbles, I never heard from him again. After a fairly dull half-hour, I decided to make a move and headed back up to the ridgetop where I’d started out. I walked to the end of the ridge, which overlooks a very large valley, and pulled out my loudest aluminum friction call. The first series of ear-splitting yelps brought a faint response from a distant gobbler way off down the valley, so I elected to drop down to the valley floor, even though I knew I couldn’t get very close because the property ends just past the base of the hill. 

When I got to the bottom of the hill I called again, and the still-distant bird answered again, but this time another, a much closer tom gobbled as well. I quickly found a spot with decent visibility and hunkered down next to a tree. The gobbler answered my next series of calls enthusiastically, then went silent for a few minutes. Finally, he gobbled again, and I could tell he had closed the distance quite a bit, but was circling around me on the hillside above. He continued to gobble as he moved but didn’t deviate from his course, and I was unable to move because I knew he could see down into the valley from his position on the high ground. Eventually, he circled far enough around the shoulder of the bluff that I figured he couldn’t see my position anymore, so I grabbed my pack and gun and took off running around the base of the hill, trying to get ahead of the bird and cut him off. Running up the steep, 300-foot bluff nearly killed me, but I knew I had to beat him to the spot where I wanted to set up. Thankfully he kept gobbling every so often, so I could keep track of his position. I huffed and puffed my way to the top of the bluff about 100 yards in front of the gobbler, and just over the crest of the hill from him. I crawled up behind a large oak tree that offered good cover and scratched out a few soft yelps. He hammered right back, and I thought it would be over quickly. But even though he gobbled heartily every time I touched a call, he wouldn’t budge from what I now assumed to be his strut zone on the ridgetop. I knew I was between where he was and where he probably wanted to go, so I settled in to wait him out. 

After a 20-25 minute stalemate, during which time he didn’t seem to move more than a few feet in any direction,

Wonderful Iowa Turkey

I suddenly saw a red head pop over the crest of the hill, peering down the slope in my direction. The head was quickly followed by the rest of the bird, as he came walking down the ridge toward me. I already had my gun up and resting on a fallen tree branch, so it was a simple matter to swing it over a few degrees and track him with the muzzle as he approached. After navigating a patch of thick saplings, he finally popped out into the open at a mere 20 yards and stopped. A trigger squeeze later, and my first turkey of the year was flopping his way down the hillside. 

Given his behavior and the fact that it was relatively early in the spring when most older toms would still be flocked up with hens, I assumed I was dealing with a 2-year-old bird. But when I bent over and grabbed a leg to pick him up, I almost fell over in shock. He had perfectly matching 1 9/16” spurs,

Perfectly matching 1 9/16” spurs, both razor-sharp

both razor-sharp. He was otherwise relatively ordinary, weighing just under 24lbs, with a wispy 9” beard. But judging by the spur length, he was definitely an old turkey. That fact made the successful conclusion to the hunt even more rewarding. 

Looking back on the hunt later, I realized I had utilized both patient and aggressive tactics to kill that bird, and most likely would not have been successful had I stuck with one or the other. It was a good example of why you should let the turkey’s behavior determine how you hunt, rather than sticking with a predetermined course of action. Planning has its place, but to be a consistently successful turkey hunter, you sometimes need to be able to change things up on the fly and adapt to the situation at hand.

Wisconsin 2017 Spring Wild Turkey Harvest – with all the details

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Here are all the 2017 spring wild turkey harvest/kill stats you could ask for from Wisconsin.  The first chart is the kill by county, sex, and age. Scroll down for the number bagged by the number of hunters and continue scrolling down for all the harvests/kill from 1983 to 2016.

An interesting number 384 bearded hens were taken during spring 2017. Sauk County had the most, 20, bearded hens taken.

  Type of Turkey Total (ALL)
Hen Tom
Age of Turkey Age of Turkey
Adult Juvenile Adult Juvenile
Kill Kill Kill Kill Kill
County Of Kill 9 . 664 144 817
ADAMS
ASHLAND . . 85 16 101
BARRON 2 . 311 92 405
BAYFIELD . . 149 23 172
BROWN 2 . 518 92 612
BUFFALO 6 1 524 130 661
BURNETT 1 . 211 49 261
CALUMET 1 . 236 63 300
CHIPPEWA 5 . 546 117 668
CLARK 5 . 591 164 760
COLUMBIA 15 1 988 226 1,230
CRAWFORD 4 . 751 122 877
DANE 13 2 1261 245 1,521
DODGE 10 . 762 151 923
DOOR 2 . 554 63 619
DOUGLAS . . 111 28 139
DUNN 5 . 636 133 774
EAU CLAIRE 2 . 539 101 642
FLORENCE . . 86 21 107
FOND DU LAC 10 . 667 166 843
FOREST 1 . 83 13 97
GRANT 8 . 864 148 1,020
GREEN 8 . 612 115 735
GREEN LAKE 2 . 394 115 511
IOWA 27 2 971 132 1,132
IRON . . 30 9 39
JACKSON 8 . 571 146 725
JEFFERSON 4 . 597 134 735
JUNEAU 6 . 614 108 728
KENOSHA . . 49 12 61
KEWAUNEE 7 . 465 63 535
LA CROSSE 4 1 477 85 567
LAFAYETTE 8 . 422 46 476
LANGLADE 2 . 284 61 347
LINCOLN 2 . 360 87 449
MANITOWOC 14 . 786 160 960
MARATHON 12 1 1036 246 1,295
MARINETTE 1 . 504 141 646
MARQUETTE 6 1 709 153 869
MENOMINEE . . 2 . 2
MILWAUKEE . . 4 1 5
MONROE 7 . 780 163 950
OCONTO 9 . 690 165 864
ONEIDA . . 154 40 194
OUTAGAMIE 3 . 540 124 667
OZAUKEE 4 . 268 59 331
PEPIN 3 . 212 49 264
PIERCE 4 . 573 123 700
POLK 3 . 359 105 467
PORTAGE 2 . 669 147 818
PRICE . . 220 56 276
RACINE 2 . 82 16 100
RICHLAND 17 . 704 125 846
ROCK 6 1 595 105 707
RUSK 1 . 293 70 364
SAUK 20 . 1019 175 1,214
SAWYER . . 103 25 128
SHAWANO 9 . 1006 136 1,151
SHEBOYGAN 16 1 642 132 791
ST CROIX . . 492 139 631
TAYLOR 1 . 553 105 659
TREMPEALEAU 5 . 521 123 649
VERNON 4 . 711 163 878
VILAS . . 74 23 97
WALWORTH 4 . 350 91 445
WASHBURN 1 . 185 52 238
WASHINGTON 4 . 607 114 725
WAUKESHA 1 . 494 142 637
WAUPACA 21 . 1155 228 1,404
WAUSHARA 7 1 525 183 716
WINNEBAGO 2 . 308 91 401
WOOD 4 . 492 131 627
Total (ALL) 372 12 35400 7521 43,305

 

Below is the number of hunters who each bagged the number of turkeys.  

Example from the chart 32,476 spring turkey hunters bagged one turkey each.  215 hunters bagged 4 turkeys each, etc.

Bagged By number of Hunters
1 32476
2 3368
3 761
4 215
5 79
6 36
7 18
8 5
9 5
10 7
11 2
15 1
21 1

 The historical number of permits issued, harvest and

permit success for spring turkey hunting, 1983-2016.

Year Permits Harvest Permit Success
1983 1,200 182 15.2%
1984 1,950 303 15.5%
1985 2,025 496 24.5%
1986 3,675 793 21.6%
1987 6,040 1,478 24.5%
1988 11,070 2,486 22.5%
1989 21,280 4,400 20.7%
1990 29,877 6,465 21.6%
1991 37,414 6,846 18.3%
1992 43,925 8,798 20.0%
1993 61,767 12,316 19.9%
1994 71,420 12,637 17.7%
1995 68,588 15,323 22.3%
1996 75,812 18,000 23.7%
1997 92,734 20,992 22.6%
1998 101,141 28,338 28.0%
1999 112,256 33,168 29.5%
2000 132,318 38,686 29.2%
2001 151,522 39,211 25.9%
2002 160,101 39,336 24.6%
2003 169,277 42,970 25.4%
2004 186,608 47,477 25.4%
2005 193,826 46,183 23.8%
2006 200,869 46,662 23.2%
2007 205,306 52,428 25.5%
2008 208,972 52,880 25.3%
2009 218,133 52,581 24.1%
2010 214,356 47,722 22.3%
2011 210,384 40,133 19.1%
2012 201,984 42.612 21.1%
2013 217,798 37,804 17.4%
2014 210,496 41,815 19.9%
2015 208,250 40,975 19.7%
2016 212,772 45,501 21.4%

After The Storm

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by FirstBubba

From no bird since 2011 to the spring of 2015!
At least I’m not greeted by thunder and lightening this morning! Meant to be up by 5:00 AM. When my bleary eyes finally locate a clock, it’s 5:26 AM!
Coffee and dressed and I’m out the gate at 6:03 AM! Not bad for an old, fat cripple!
It’s 6:43 AM when I stop at the gate and it’s beginning to break day. Quite a difference from the deluge of two days ago! The air is still, quiet and nearly 60°. The sun promises a cloudless, bluebird sky! AWESOME!
Somewhere across the bottom, a gobble breaks the silence! I quickly gather my gear and head out across the still soggy pasture, birds gobbling from time to time. The crystal clear notes tell me they’re still on the roost.
I set the “deke” and make my spread. Then the “Gobble Fest” begins. I must be hearing 10 to 15 birds from three different directions.
Low lying fog spreads across the bottom. The fog is beautiful, and I take a few pictures. Two coyotes stop and check the hen decoy before moving along.
Muffled gobbles tell me birds are on the ground. Buffing the slate call, I throw out a “cut” or two. They’re greeted with gobbles. Yelps and purrs are more often cut off with gobbles than not!
Checking the camera, I see the batteries are getting low. Retrieving the four new batteries from my coat pocket, I pop the old batteries out and drop the new ones in. I replace the camera on its monopod and shove it into the soft ground and realize that two birds are almost to the pecan trees! One looks to be a very nice bird! Oh, well!
Checking back the way they came in, I see a big white head about 30 yards out.
What do I do now? The gun is resting on its tripod, probably 70° from where the bird is! I contemplate my next move.
I lift with my right hand on the wrist of the stock and slap the fore end with my left, lifting the gun out of its cradle.
Startled, the bird stares at me as I swing the shotgun into position and slap the trigger!
He’s mine!

Not as big a bird as the “Rain Storm” gobbler, but a VERY pretty bird! 16 pounds 3/4″ spurs 9″ beard

 

The Kamikaze Bird, by huntfishtrap

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By, HuntFishTrap

The morning of May 5 brought clear skies and mild temperatures to my corner of Iowa, and I was itching to get back into the turkey woods again, after a 2-week layoff following the hunt for my first bird of the year, back in our 2nd shotgun season. We’re allowed two gun tags for spring turkey hunting here in Iowa, and of the 2 one must be for the 4th and final season, for reasons I have never heard explained by the powers that be.

Being strongly averse to rising early in the morning, I elected to set my alarm for 6 am, and then hit the woods after fly-down. Since it was a weekday when most of the competition would be at work, I elected to go to a public land spot where I had long wanted to kill a gobbler. The property had produced a number of close calls over the years, including missing a big longbeard two seasons prior, but I had always seemed to be snakebit there.

I pulled into the deserted parking lot a little after 7 and set off into the woods as the rising sun painted the just-emerging maple and oak leaves with shades of gold. I walked about a ½ mile into the timber before stopping to call for the first time, knowing from past experience that calling close to the parking lot is usually a waste of time on public land. The first series of yelps did not produce a response, so I kept going, stopping to yelp a few times every couple hundred yards or so. My destination was a ridge overlooking a large oak flat that often held birds, and I had almost reached it when I heard a faint gobble from somewhere off in the distance. I cut loose a few loud yelps on my go-to long-distance aluminum pot call and received an answer. Still, could not tell exactly where the bird was, so I eased up to the top of the ridge and tried again. This time the far-off gobbler was joined by another, much closer bird, somewhere down on the oak flat in front of me. I quickly scanned the trees around me for a good spot to set up and chose a large oak tree with a deadfall in front of it which acted as a sort of natural blind.

After settling in, it didn’t take long to ascertain that the distant tom was way down in a big valley on the other side of the oak flat, and was most likely a lost cause. But the closer gobbles were only a few hundred yards away, and it sounded like there might even be more than one bird. My first few series of calls brought immediate responses, and it sounded like the bird or birds were moving closer, but then they seemed to begin to lose interest. So I started switching calls, looking for something they’d like, but without much success. The occasional gobble would ring out, but they didn’t seem to be answering anymore. Finally, I got to one of my three wingbones, which I rarely use, and mostly carry for emergencies. That was the ticket, as they – by now I was certain there was more than one – started responding again, and began working their way closer. The birds got to within 200 yards, then hung up, and a stalemate ensued. I would call, they would gobble, but wouldn’t come a step my way. I knew the area quite well and didn’t think there were any obstructions that would prevent them from moving my way, so after about 30 minutes I was getting exasperated. Finally, I’d had enough, so decided to make a move.

I eased back over the ridge until I was certain the turkeys couldn’t see me and started looping around one side. The open oak woods didn’t offer much cover for trying to sneak up on anything, but I knew there was a small ditch on the far side of the ridge that I could use for cover if I could get there. I made it to the ditch and followed it as far as I could, until reaching the point where I had to climb out in order to keep moving in the right direction. At this point, I figured I was still at least 150 yards from the last gobbles I’d heard, but at least I was now on their side of the ridge. I elected to stop and call just before reaching the top of the bank above the ditch, but before I could get my wingbone out of my pocket the toms gobbled again, but they sounded much farther away. I cut loose with a little wingbone music and received silence in reply, tried again, the same result. I was standing there a little despondently, trying to figure out a new plan of action, when I heard what I thought was a hen putting just over a small rise in the ground, about 100 yards in front of me. That was followed immediately by a loud commotion that sounded like several turkeys running in the dry, crackly leaves.

I figured I had somehow spooked part of the flock I’d been hearing, and almost started to jog up to the top of the knoll to see if I could catch a glimpse of them, when a red head popped over the hill in front of me, followed immediately by two more! I froze in consternation because I knew that standing in the middle of the open woods without any cover near me was a recipe for disaster. But thankfully when they lowered their heads they disappeared behind the rise in the land again, and I could drop to my knees and scramble several feet backward until I was up against an oak tree. I just had time to raise my trusty 870 and steady it over one knee before they came trotting over the hill, headed right for me. At this point I was not certain what kind of birds were coming in – the gobbles I’d been hearing all morning had sounded a little choppy at times, like jakes – but the first bird in line was a nice long beard, and he was determined to be first to the party. He came trucking right toward me, beard swinging from side to side, while I tried to make myself small against the oak. While he was coming in, I heard a loud spit-n-drum from beyond the rise and saw a fan pop open, so I knew there were still more birds coming but was focused on the one at hand.
He paused at about 40 yards, and I almost shot him, but just as I was about to squeeze the trigger he kept coming, and I kept tracking him with the gun muzzle. Even in the heat of the moment, the thought popped into my mind, “This bird is like a kamikaze – I’m going to kill him, or he’s going to run me over!”. Finally at 25 yards, he started to slow down, and finally stopped and started giving me the old hairy eyeball, so I centered the bright fiber-optic bead on his glowing head and sent 2 ounces of #5s on their way. The gun boomed he dropped like a stone, and turkeys took off in every direction behind him.  There were at least 5 or 6 different birds, a mix of jakes and toms. I will never know what made that flock suddenly reverse course and come right to me after essentially disregarding my calling for the previous 2 hours, but I’m not complaining. Sometimes the unpredictability of turkeys is bad, and sometimes it’s good.

When I looked at my watch, I saw that the time was 9:35 am, only 5 minutes later in the morning than when I killed my first turkey of the year, two weeks before. This bird would then tip the scales at 20 ½lbs, with 1 1/8” spurs and a 10 ½” beard. A nice 3-year-old tom. After snapping some photos, and stopping to enjoy the beautiful day for a while, I loaded the bird into my pack and set off on the 3/4+ mile walk back to my truck. The hard part of the hunt was just beginning, but it was a small price to pay for such an awesome morning in the turkey woods.

Are Turkey Hunts like Chess Match or Card Game of Chance?

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What do you think?  Is a wild turkey hunt more like a game chess in the woods or is it more like the card game solitaire?  

Something, perhaps mostly unknown about charlie elk is the fact it took him five wild turkey seasons before he finally killed a gobbler.

What took him so long?

After all, he helped Minnesota catch grouse for the Minnesota/Missouri turkey/grouse exchange release program so he should have learned something about turkeys during that long restoration period.  Well, not so fast.  Charlie was an accomplished big game hunter who frequently stalked within longbow range of bedded cervids across the North American Continent.  And then, in the early eighties along came the wild turkey opportunities.

After finally being drawn for a Minnesota turkey license in the zone where a band of turkey nuts, including Charlie had released turkeys from Missouri years before; the young, cocky, self-assured Charlie was humbled by a bird with a brain about the size of a walnut.  It is amazing how a feathered bird-brained creature could be so elusive.

He planned all his hunts so carefully, doing research to determine in advance where the turkeys roosted, where they would want to go from roost and how they would get there, all to no avail.  Then late one morning he saw a truck with plates from Missouri pull into the parking area, an elderly gentleman stepped out walked around surveying the area and then did some cutting on a long box call.  Answered by a robust gobble, not more than 100 yards down the trail Charlie had just walked back to camp.  The veteran hunter headed down the path and soon a there was a gunshot.   The fellow came walking back with a very nice turkey over his shoulder.

The mistake Charlie had been making, in his humble opinion was that he’d been hunting turkeys using many of same tactics as he used for hunting big game.  Big game animals do things for reasons that are quite apparent to an experienced hunter.  Whereas the wild turkey does things that are apparently done for well, maybe no clear reason at all.

A lot of turkey behavior, if not most, is random, much like the shuffling of a deck of cards.  For example, if a turkey is flushed and somewhere different with suitable habitat and maybe an available hen during the spring— that turkey is likely to be just as content in the new location as he was in the previous one, he’ll just roost in whatever tree is convenient as it gets dark. Once this randomness soaked into charlie’s sometimes, most times, dense head, he has killed a turkey in every season he has hunted over the last 40 years.

 

Wisconsin Turkey Season Winding Down

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As this is written there are only three hunting days left to Wisconsin’s 2017 spring turkey season.  For the most part, the toms have stopped gobbling to tip off their locations and they have started forming their summer time bachelor groups.  This is the moment some hunters eagerly wait for because when the toms are properly motivated with gobbler talk, deep sounding clucks followed by a slow raspy yelp or two. Make sure it’s just one or two yelps clearly separated and not run together.

The added challenge much like in fall hunting is finding the turkeys.  When turkeys form groups there will be more areas without and the other areas will have more birds.

After sleeping in until 5:00 a, sleep deprivation is taking its toll on me; a gobbler who has irritated me since early April by consistently strutting in the middle of a field I can’t hunt. Worse, no one else has hunted him either so all he does is strut at me nearly everytime I drive by.  This morning he was in the middle of the dirt road strutting as beautiful as a peacock with the rising sun glinting off his feathers.  I did feel a temptation to stop and shoot him or just run him over, but clearly, those thoughts were just symptoms of sleep deprivation, I just blew the horn instead.  That tom tipped me off to his roost location as he flew off.  I had a good feeling the next morning I’d get him.  He was clearly callable onto some land I have permission to hunt by a farmer who likes to have a lot of turkeys removed from his land.

 

I continued on my way to check out a hillside pocket that is only reachable by boat and since the rivers were above flood stage the turkeys should be in the “pocket”.  Sure enough, I settled in called with a few clucks, noticed a black stump that looked very much like a turkey staring at me, red-headed and all.  Figured it was a stump with a cardinal sitting on it.  There have been a lot of cardinals and scarlet tanagers this year causing excitement here and there.  Lack of sleep does that to you sometimes, so I lowered my eyelids to check for leaks.  When I opened them a few minutes later the black stump was gone; I clucked and there he was not quite 30 yards standing at attention in the wide open woods staring at the lump that was me.  Fortunately, my gun sling is always hooked on my left knee holding the barrel level out front and this tom is standing right in front of the gun barrel.  All I needed to do was raise it up and one tag for the last season was filled.

Tongue Teaser call brought em in again.

That left two tags in my pocket for Friday.  The determination to bag that most irritating strutter in the county rose to an obsessive level. That is, until Friday morning, when I forced myself out of bed, shooting that poor turkey did not seem as important as it did yesterday.

At 6:10 am I found myself laying back in a grassy field wash using the folds of the field to hide me. Lying back when you need sleep is not conducive to remaining alert.   However, the chain gobbling that answered my first tongue teaser yelp sure did get my full attention and when that yelp was followed up with some walking clucks and a single yelp to be answered by near constant incoming gobbling from two sides—sleep just slid way down the priority list.

During late seasons my Willow Ridge Tongue Teaser – Gobbler Pine Box is the call I turn to, Scott made this special for me to use in the fall for calling in gobblers.  It works whenever, the need to make gobbler calls arises.

In about 20 minutes the five toms converged on my location, marching as if on a mission to either recruit the lonesome gobbler (me) or kick his butt.  I do not which it was, for they did not get any time to explain. At mid-gobble my gun commanded silence from the first one at 15 yards.  The other four turned around marching away single file when a single cluck stopped them and turned em around for the gun to silence the second one mid-gobble at 30 yds filling my last two tags for the final season.

Late season turkeys are challenging to find, but when you do it might be double the fun.

You’d think, the season would end there…  Not in Wisconsin, there are still thousands of OTC tags left and two of those are now in my pocket.  Heck, sleep is overrated, I have all summer to catch up on it.

 

 

The Rain Bird

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The Rain Bird

by FirstBubba

It’s April 13th and so far, turkey season has been a bust! I’m seeing birds but my every attempt has been thwarted! Soooo…I’m up early this morning to try again!

A gusty north wind greets me at the door. Lightning to the northeast provides brief illumination as I scurry to the truck with my shotgun. I almost turn back, but forge ahead into the gloomy morning.

Parking at the gate, the one ton Dodge rocks and rolls as the blustery wind buffets it broadside!

Again I think, “Why don’t you just go home?”.

At 6:45 AM, daylight is breaking through the gloom. I gear up and head across the soggy pasture to my ” spot”. Thirty-knot wind gusts and 58°! It ain’t fittin’ weather fer man nor beast! After fiddling around a bit, I get my gear spread out and set up.

Buffing the surface of a slate call, I send a few yelps into the gale. That won’t be heard until it reaches the next county over! Oddly, I get a reply from across the creek to the east! Cross a creek? In a rain storm? R-I-G-H-T!

I settle back and wait.

The spot is comfortable, but the wind is miserable. Especially since it’s beginning to spit rain. “Just what I need!”

Lo and behold! Out of the storm, I see a jake cautiously approaching. I get my gun up but a small hackberry tree blocks my shot. A little shift and lean to the right and I get him lined up, but it also spooks him and he’s having none of it! He scurries off in a trot.

The rain picks up.

Minutes later, what appears to be a rain-soaked tom gingerly approaches from my left. I suppose it’s because of the rain, but this is one scroungy looking bird!

The rain picks up.

Approaching dead on, I’m having a hard time detecting any “tom” features like beard or fan. One or two tail feathers seem to be dragging the ground.

The bird finally turns far enough to his left that I can detect a decent beard through the rain, thunder, lightening and wind.

The safety snaps to the off position and he approaches dead on. At 20 yards, he stops and stares at me through the rain. (did I mention it was raining?) The recoil is unexpected and he collapses in a pile of soggy feathers.

FINALLY! This was my first bird since 2011!

I retrieve my bird and begin to pick up my gear as the cadence of the raindrops increases.

Two toms appear out of the storm from the east! They had to be the birds gobbling at me from across the creek earlier. I’m in a “2 Tom” county, but they’ve seen me move and all the soft clucks and purrs won’t bring them in. They skirt around me at 70 to 80 yards and head west across the rain-soaked pasture.

I get my gear picked up and reach over to a broken limb to grab my hanging camera. The two toms that came from the east are coming down the fence line from the west…..in the rain!

When I step out into the open, 8 to 10 birds gathered under the pecan trees scurry across the pasture and the two stragglers join them!

I’m covered up with birds! I’m soaked! I’m cold! I’m elated! I’m going home!

Old Rainy 22 lbs. 9-inch beard and .75 inch spurs

This bird only had 7 tail feathers! It appeared that maybe a predator had shredded his tail. Five feathers on the left. The two on the right hung loosely and drug the ground!

I tried several times to pose him for a picture or two. Nothing worked! I finally just snapped a picture of him lying in the mud! It WAS raining, you know!

As the diesel roared to life, I realized that water was still pouring out of my rain-soaked”Boonie” hat and had to laugh! My dad used to tell me, “Son! It was raining so hard, water quit running IN my boots and started running out!” I knew exactly what he was talking about!

Neon Tom – Gobbler Rumble End

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“Neon” Tom
by FirstBubba
The “Gobbler Rumble” ended when the six toms broke into smaller groups and headed to the field with the hens.
One of them, however, headed off on his own to the pecan grove to the east.
The grove has huge, old trees that have shaded out most undergrowth. As they leaf out, they also leave the ground under them in dark shadows.
This tom seemed to be on a mission. He never gobbled, yelped, spat or drummed. He simply walked into the dark shadows of the trees and began to strut proudly. I turned the video back on and began to track him. A few rays of the rising sun were stabbing through the timber east of the trees and provided perfect backlighting for his gaudy show!
I decided I wanted prints instead of video and switched the camera to “Smart Capture”, but alas, the show had ended! I did eventually get one nice photo of him (shot #3) as he strode off with a couple of hens that had arrived for the “Gala”!
As hard as I tried to make an 8×10, the “still from video” function just won’t allow a clear enlargement! Therefore, 4×6 is the best I can do! When we darken the room, his tail stands out in his framed photo like a curved beacon.
So, in all his “radiant glory”, these are the shots I call; “Neon Tom”!

Now is that a ” shiny hiney” or what?

FirstBubba’s Gobbler Rumble

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Written and photographed by FirstBubba

Basically, this was my first attempt at “wild game photography”.

Armed with a Kodak Z5010 camera and a 21x zoom lens and my trusty Ruger 6.8mm Ranch rifle, (there’s lot’sa wild hogs in the area!) I set out about a week before season to locate and photograph turkeys…or what ever else may pop out.

Settling down in a gully behind a willow log in the gathering light, gobblers loudly greeting the dawn all around me and my heart goes into overdrive!

Wanting some action shots, I set the camera to “Video” and wait.

It doesn’t take long!

Two toms approach from the west, three from across the road behind me and two more from across the creek.

A “herd” of hens gather by twos, threes, and fours from all directions until I’m a nervous wreck!

I can’t track them ALL! …and don’t want one to “bust” me!

These six toms break off, cross under the fence and are joined by one stray hen who quickly scuttles away when the six square off.

I have trouble finding the birds on the screen!

RATS!

I finally get the camera recording, the raucous “fighting purrs” breaking the early dawn quiet and filling the bottom with sound.

Now if I can just keep them on screen…THAT didn’t happen!

With nearly 2 minutes of jittery video, at least the sound turned out good! LOL!

It was nearly 10 o’clock before all the turkeys left and I could escape unnoticed.

Only when I got home did it dawn on me that I only had video and no “pictures”.

The little camera, though inexpensive in the grand scheme of things, has a feature to make “stills” from videos!

That is what you see that Charlie has so beautifully “recreated” here!

Thanks, FirstBubba for these great pictures of Oklahoma gobblers getting ready to Rumble!  It’s not very often if ever turkey hunters get a front row seat to this sporting event.  Heck, how many hunters would take pictures or just watch before shooting one of these fine toms?

Thanks for sharing these with us Bubba, it is really appreciated.  Sure gets a turkey hunter’s blood pumping.

Be sure to check out our Turkey Sitrep and leave turkey stories and reports in your state.

Photo courtesy FirstBubba

Photo courtesy FirstBubba
Gobbler Rumble

Photo courtesy FirstBubba
Gobbler Rumble

 

Photo courtesy FirstBubba
Gobbler Rumble

Patterning Board Surprise!

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Yesterday evening while performing one of the most important spring rituals – patterning the turkey guns, three gobblers sounded off at each shot.  How is that for incentive?  Yes, I do the patterning ritual every year because there are always new turkey loads and a hunter can never get enough practice. Those loud-mouthed gobblers on the hillside who kept me entertained weren’t the biggest surprise of the evening.  It was the Improved Modified (IM) choke tube that performed better than the turkey full chokes.

The gobblers flew up to roost with a lot of shooting light left so; I assume they must have decided to study this situation more in-depth too.  As I continued firing away, checking and double checking the patterns on the targets at varying range, those toms would purr, cluck, yelp and gobble in apparent “turkey deep thought”.

A few years ago Federal Prairie Storm, and their Mag-Shok turkey loads, both use flightcontrol wads with copper coated lead got my attention because the good folks at Federal recommend using an improved cylinder (IC) choke. Using IC choke makes it easy to change from regular upland bird hunting and turkey hunting in the fall.  Patterns are very good for the specific game out my 20 or 12 gauges without needing to swap choke tubes.  These loads raised my awareness of using a more open choke for better performance and accuracy. Still, for spring gobbler hunting my head stayed stuck on a turkey full choke.

Last year a good friend gave me a case of Federal 3rd Degree shells, thank you very much, good friend.  This gift allowed me to test them without spending $4+ per shot.  While patterning the 3rd degree through a variety of chokes from cylinder to turkey full, I discovered the Benelli factory improved modified shot the best pattern from 10 – 50 yards.  The 3rd Degrees put the scatter back into scattergun.  A turkey will need to be standing by himself, at least two feet from another bird or there will be collateral taking involved.  At 50 yards it’s common for all shotshell patterns to be spread out.  The good thing about 3rd Degrees is they are consistently spread into a nice pattern all the way.  Nine to twelve pellets were delivered into the kill zone at 50 yards.  I might try these during this spring’s hunt.

Thinking about the difference in shot metallic hardness of heavy shot, steel, bismuth, copper plated lead and nickel plated lead a light came on regarding the choke effect on each shot type.

Vicker hardness of shotgun shell metals

  • Nickel 638
  • Copper 360
  • Iron 608
  • Tungsten 3500

For decades my turkey shell of choice has been Fiocchi nickel plated Golden Turkey because they pattern well, inexpensive and efficiently kill turkeys.  Plus with the moderate price a hunter can practice without breaking their wallet.  The thing is my head got stuck on the turkey full choke is the better concept and until now.

Nickel plated shot is almost twice as hard as copper, meaning the nickel should perform better out of a more open choke, in the same manner, steel shot does, this is why I was at the range yesterday with an audience of gobblers testing standard factory chokes from Remington V3 and Benelli M2.  With the V3 a modified choke shot best and the Benelli’s improve modified shot best, this was the patterning board surprise. Actually; the second surprise in that I should have thought of this a very long time ago.

 

Carlson Turkey Choke at 50 yards

 

 

IM choke Benelli 50 yards

 

IM Benelli choke 25 yards

I have no plans to shoot turkeys at 50 yards, my personal limit is 30-35 yards. It’s just more fun to call them in close.

As for the gobbling gobblers, well that is just pared for the course here in Wisconsin.  Heck, sometimes they have the audacity to walk in front of me while I’m shooting.  Not to worry, though, that reckless behavior ends come hunting season.