| Turkey Articles |
John N. Felsher's Turkey Hunting Adventures
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Well before dawn, Harold Yarbrough cupped his ear and listened
intently as he stood on a narrow trail winding through the bottomlands of
Sherburne Wildlife Management Area near Krotz Springs, La.
As a hint of daylight greeted the eastern horizon, nocturnal animals
scurried back to their lairs. Diurnal animals awoke with various cheeps,
screeches and cackles. Pileated woodpeckers clamored raucously before
jack-hammering into dead timber for grubs. Crows cawed their disapproval
at everyone and everything.
Yarbrough ignored this woodland cacophony, listening intently for one
particular sound. Soon, a faint gobble, almost imperceptible to untrained
ears, rumbled across the vast stretch of hardwood bottomlands in this
section of the Atchafalaya Basin.
“Heard that? That’s a turkey gobbling,” he said. “He’s across the
bayou."
In fact, I did not hear it. On my first turkey hunt, my ears didn’t isolate
the gobbling of a tom turkey giving orders to his harem. The sound
jumbled with the din of other swamp denizens. I heard the next one, though.
In the largest riverbottom swamp in North America, Sherburne Wildlife
Management Area, Atchafalaya National Wildlife Refuge and adjacent U.S.
Army Corps of Engineers lands in Pointe Coupee, St. Martin and Iberville
parishes at the northern end of the Atchafalaya Basin west of Baton Rouge,
La., offer 43,617 acres of prime bottomland habitat. The Louisiana
Department of Wildlife and Fisheries owns 11,780 acres. The U.S. Fish
and Wildlife Service owns 15,220 acres and the COE owns the rest.
The LDWF manages the entire tract of state and federal lands as one
section for public hunting. Near Big Alabama Bayou, the state operates a
shooting range and a camping area. Private campgrounds offer more land
to park recreational vehicles or pitch tents.
Primarily bottomlands, the management area contains lush
cottonwood, sycamore, oak, gum, hackberry, ash, willow, cypress and bitter
pecan trees. Beneath the towering hardwoods, maple, mulberry, dogwood,
rattan, greenbrier, dewberry, blackberry and ferns provide excellent cover
for deer, squirrels, rabbits, woodcock and even a few black bears.
The bottomlands also provide habitat for a thriving turkey population,
but in such thick swamps, sportsmen rarely see more than 20 to 30 yards.
Hunters find more turkeys by sound than sight. Soon, an almost
imperceptible gobble wafted through the oak, pecan, sycamore, gum and
hackberry forest.
Laced with interconnected bayous, sloughs and swamps, hunters
cannot always target a close bird if it sits on the opposite side of an
impassable waterway. In such an environment, hunters sometimes must
work in teams along different shorelines.
“That’s one on our side of the bayou over this way,” Harold said.
“Let’s get him.”
As silently as possible, Harold and I trudged through the bottomlands
toward a lonesome gobbler on our side of the bayou. Our companion,
Judge Steve Broussard of Sulphur, La., headed off in the opposite direction
to find another gobbler.
Near where he heard the gobble, Harold picked a comfortable tree,
chopped brushes and saplings to fashion a ground blind near a tree. He
then positioned several Outlaw silhouette and full-body hen decoys at good
shooting range. He also placed a couple decoys across a small creek
flowing through the area.
“Swamp turkeys often use small creeks and sloughs for navigation,”
Harold explained. “They walk along the edges eating bugs and berries.
Creeks also offer more open viewing than dense thickets. I usually set up a
jake decoy (young male turkey) or two, but not on public land. I don’t
expect to see anyone coming through our area, but on public land I don’t
take chances with someone mistaking us for turkeys or shooting at our
decoys.”
Hen decoys attract gobblers and keep their attention away from
shooters. The presence of jakes infuriates dominant gobblers who think
the young males conspire to breed their harems.
With the turkey decoys in place, we “camoed up.” We pulled face
masks down and put on gloves to conceal everything that looked human --
and to prevent mosquitoes from biting us. Blessed with keen eyesight, wild
turkeys rank among the smartest game animals in North America.
After we positioned ourselves, Harold fluttered actual turkey wings to
simulate the sound of gobblers flying down off their roosts. Then, he
stroked his hen call to lure a lonely tom. Later in the morning, he preferred
a gobble call.
“Gobblers roost in trees and fly down at dawn,” he said. “Sometimes,
they move around in midday. In the morning, tom turkeys gobble to tell the
hens to come to them. After they breed, hens go off to lay eggs. That’s
when Old Tom finds himself alone in the woods and he becomes
susceptible to calling.”
We waited for action, listening to the awakening swamp. Later, as we
readied to move, an old gobbler stepped from a thicket along the creek
edge. Without making a sound, he saw us and disappeared quickly into
thick brush. Bagging the wiliest game bird in North America in thickets
takes considerable skill, effort, quickness and a bit of luck. Luck did not
shine on us this day.
To reach Sherburne WMA, follow Interstate 10 to the Whiskey Bay exit
and head north. Two private boat launches on the northern portion of the
area, and two public launches, one on Big Alabama Bayou, and one on
North Little Alabama Bayou, provide access to the interior.
For more information on Sherburne WMA (337) 948-0255.
intently as he stood on a narrow trail winding through the bottomlands of
Sherburne Wildlife Management Area near Krotz Springs, La.
As a hint of daylight greeted the eastern horizon, nocturnal animals
scurried back to their lairs. Diurnal animals awoke with various cheeps,
screeches and cackles. Pileated woodpeckers clamored raucously before
jack-hammering into dead timber for grubs. Crows cawed their disapproval
at everyone and everything.
Yarbrough ignored this woodland cacophony, listening intently for one
particular sound. Soon, a faint gobble, almost imperceptible to untrained
ears, rumbled across the vast stretch of hardwood bottomlands in this
section of the Atchafalaya Basin.
“Heard that? That’s a turkey gobbling,” he said. “He’s across the
bayou."
In fact, I did not hear it. On my first turkey hunt, my ears didn’t isolate
the gobbling of a tom turkey giving orders to his harem. The sound
jumbled with the din of other swamp denizens. I heard the next one, though.
In the largest riverbottom swamp in North America, Sherburne Wildlife
Management Area, Atchafalaya National Wildlife Refuge and adjacent U.S.
Army Corps of Engineers lands in Pointe Coupee, St. Martin and Iberville
parishes at the northern end of the Atchafalaya Basin west of Baton Rouge,
La., offer 43,617 acres of prime bottomland habitat. The Louisiana
Department of Wildlife and Fisheries owns 11,780 acres. The U.S. Fish
and Wildlife Service owns 15,220 acres and the COE owns the rest.
The LDWF manages the entire tract of state and federal lands as one
section for public hunting. Near Big Alabama Bayou, the state operates a
shooting range and a camping area. Private campgrounds offer more land
to park recreational vehicles or pitch tents.
Primarily bottomlands, the management area contains lush
cottonwood, sycamore, oak, gum, hackberry, ash, willow, cypress and bitter
pecan trees. Beneath the towering hardwoods, maple, mulberry, dogwood,
rattan, greenbrier, dewberry, blackberry and ferns provide excellent cover
for deer, squirrels, rabbits, woodcock and even a few black bears.
The bottomlands also provide habitat for a thriving turkey population,
but in such thick swamps, sportsmen rarely see more than 20 to 30 yards.
Hunters find more turkeys by sound than sight. Soon, an almost
imperceptible gobble wafted through the oak, pecan, sycamore, gum and
hackberry forest.
Laced with interconnected bayous, sloughs and swamps, hunters
cannot always target a close bird if it sits on the opposite side of an
impassable waterway. In such an environment, hunters sometimes must
work in teams along different shorelines.
“That’s one on our side of the bayou over this way,” Harold said.
“Let’s get him.”
As silently as possible, Harold and I trudged through the bottomlands
toward a lonesome gobbler on our side of the bayou. Our companion,
Judge Steve Broussard of Sulphur, La., headed off in the opposite direction
to find another gobbler.
Near where he heard the gobble, Harold picked a comfortable tree,
chopped brushes and saplings to fashion a ground blind near a tree. He
then positioned several Outlaw silhouette and full-body hen decoys at good
shooting range. He also placed a couple decoys across a small creek
flowing through the area.
“Swamp turkeys often use small creeks and sloughs for navigation,”
Harold explained. “They walk along the edges eating bugs and berries.
Creeks also offer more open viewing than dense thickets. I usually set up a
jake decoy (young male turkey) or two, but not on public land. I don’t
expect to see anyone coming through our area, but on public land I don’t
take chances with someone mistaking us for turkeys or shooting at our
decoys.”
Hen decoys attract gobblers and keep their attention away from
shooters. The presence of jakes infuriates dominant gobblers who think
the young males conspire to breed their harems.
With the turkey decoys in place, we “camoed up.” We pulled face
masks down and put on gloves to conceal everything that looked human --
and to prevent mosquitoes from biting us. Blessed with keen eyesight, wild
turkeys rank among the smartest game animals in North America.
After we positioned ourselves, Harold fluttered actual turkey wings to
simulate the sound of gobblers flying down off their roosts. Then, he
stroked his hen call to lure a lonely tom. Later in the morning, he preferred
a gobble call.
“Gobblers roost in trees and fly down at dawn,” he said. “Sometimes,
they move around in midday. In the morning, tom turkeys gobble to tell the
hens to come to them. After they breed, hens go off to lay eggs. That’s
when Old Tom finds himself alone in the woods and he becomes
susceptible to calling.”
We waited for action, listening to the awakening swamp. Later, as we
readied to move, an old gobbler stepped from a thicket along the creek
edge. Without making a sound, he saw us and disappeared quickly into
thick brush. Bagging the wiliest game bird in North America in thickets
takes considerable skill, effort, quickness and a bit of luck. Luck did not
shine on us this day.
To reach Sherburne WMA, follow Interstate 10 to the Whiskey Bay exit
and head north. Two private boat launches on the northern portion of the
area, and two public launches, one on Big Alabama Bayou, and one on
North Little Alabama Bayou, provide access to the interior.
For more information on Sherburne WMA (337) 948-0255.
Wily swamp gobblers challenge
the skills of spring sportsmen
the skills of spring sportsmen
Harold Yarbrough of Sulphur, La., waits for a big gobbler to emerge
from the underbrush of the Atchafalaya Basin in south-central
Louisiana between Lafayette and Baton Rouge.
from the underbrush of the Atchafalaya Basin in south-central
Louisiana between Lafayette and Baton Rouge.
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