Talkin’ Turkey

Tips for chasing spring gobblers.

The alarm blared at 3:30am, and I lay in bed staring at the ceiling thinking Why in the world am I up at this hour for a bird with a walnut-sized brain? Eventually, I stumbled across the room, trying not to step on the dog and wake my wife, and grabbed the truck keys. With temps in the mid-20s, I might as well have been headed to the duck blind, but instead I was planning to sit under a tree for 40 minutes—with no heater—just to beat the gobblers out of their roosts.

Sitting in silence, I shivered to stay warm. The songbirds began to sing as a slight hue of orange crept through the pines. Then, out of the blue: a gobble. The turkey isn’t too far away, but I’m reminded why turkey hunters don’t usually ask, “were you successful,” but rather “did you hear any gobbles?” Hearing a turkey gobble is akin to hearing an elk bugle—your heart begins to beat faster, and you tremble in anticipation. Regardless of if you get a shot off, the noise alone makes an early morning worth it.

Find a tree to sit or stand against, and call every once in a while to bring the turkey in. Don’t call every time it gobbles. Just like in high school, sometimes it’s best to play hard to get.

History in Montana
There are five subspecies of wild turkeys across North America, but only two are found in Montana: the Merriam’s (most prevalent) and the Eastern (only in the northwest corner of the state). Both are non-native to Montana, as the Merriam’s was introduced by FWP in the mid-’50s, and the Eastern variety was introduced—most likely illegally—into the Flathead Valley around a similar timeframe. Merriam turkeys first populated the Judith Mountains, but have since expanded and been introduced elsewhere throughout the state. Preferring rugged hills, pine forests, and cottonwood river bottoms, Merriam’s is the only species present in southwest Montana, where they create a plethora of opportunities for hunters up to the challenge.

Tips for Success
Scout, scout, scout. Use digital maps to find areas where turkeys might live, then get into the field before your hunt to look for fresh sign: tracks, feathers, and scat. Before the season opens, find private fields where the birds are concentrated, and think about how they might move onto surrounding public lands as the snow melts.

Camo. A turkey’s number-one defense against predators and hunters is its vision—three times better than a human’s. To get within shotgun or bow range, you’ll need to cover up from head to toe in camo so as not to stand out. That includes face mask, gloves, hat, pants, and long-sleeve shirt. Alternatively, a homemade ghillie suit of some kind can do the trick.

Be patient. The best turkey hunters are often the most patient. Once you locate a turkey, it’s imperative not to rush straight at it. Be calm and patient. Find a tree to sit or stand against, and call every once in a while to bring the turkey in. Don’t call every time it gobbles. Just like in high school, sometimes it’s best to play hard to get. Remember, the bird’s brain is the size of a walnut.

Pattern your shotgun. Nothing is worse than doing all your scouting homework and calling a longbeard into range just to miss the shot. To be lethal in the field, make sure the choke and shells you plan to use pattern well, out to 40 yards.

Cody Ristau is an avid outdoor enthusiast. He has spent the last ten years in the Gallatin Valley, and spends most of his free time on the river casting a line or bird hunting with his two labs.