The scoreboard is racking up quickly on the turkey side, but it seems the birds aren't playing fair. Its more like they're not playing, at all. I feel as though I am at war with someone who has no desire to fight.

To give some credit to 2017, I seem to already have had more chances than I did all of last season. I have just been out maneuvered and tricked out of true opportunity. On the opener the five to six birds that gobbled together from daylight to 09:00 ended up just below me after finally crossing onto National Forest property. But the terrain forced me to attempt a wide loop to get around them and, when I went up the wrong draw, the birds ended up above me and I watched a big, black turkey run the ridgetop in the opposite direction. No more gobbles heard. No idea where they went.

Friday, 4/14 started with a single bird gobbling well on the roost. I made it up the hollow and he sounded off on up the ridge top on my right, but he threw his voice up the mountain and, instead of being 300 yards away, he was only 100. After climbing to the top of the ridge I was met by the sound of turkey feet quickly exiting through the leaf litter. Boogered, again.

So, unmistakably, those were my fault. I never called to either of those two birds, opting to try to get into position, first. As always, the turkey let me know my mistakes. Know your terrain. Take heed of how sound can carry through that terrain.

Thursday I was able to take the kid out to private land before he had to go to school and I to work. We moved in on a hot gobbling bird only to encounter two hunters already set up and working him. While I was suspicious of the situation, I wasn't completely convinced the hunters were there as the calling was just right and the context clues were indefinite. But they were there and set up 15 and 20 yards in front of us. They killed the turkey, too. This was a bit of a gut wrenching reality check that situational awareness and safety are so the highest priority in this sport, and that it is much easier to slip in on folks unaware than one can ever imagine, even on private land. On top of that, I am trying so desperately, for the second season, to get a bird in front of this kid, but the turkey gods are clearly toying with us.

Time spent in the National Forest so far has revealed some seriously henned up birds. Though they are a bit more willing to talk this year on the roost, they sure aren't answering calls. Couple this with unforgiving terrain and no foliage to aid in maneuvering, and you've got a perfect storm that makes getting in front of a bird on the brink of impossibility.

Then, of course, just to throw some "Remember last season?" jokes in there, I've had two mornings on state land with nary a gobble heard.

But there is a glimmer of hope. For whatever reason, I have never killed a bird before the third weekend of the season. It seems as though this is the time that hens begin spending much more time on their nests than with their lovers. Gobblers finally begin to take interest in what I have to say, and I have been able to play the game a bit more with a willing opponent.

Here's to hoping that the same happens in the next week. I could use a win in the turkey woods. Not necessarily a kill, though it would certainly be nice to eat wild turkey again as last season's three tags didn't taste all that good. What I really need is some sort of experiential validation that I can do this, though I know I can. It isn't a problem that any human can help. It is between me and the birds. I am not one to give up. I embrace the challenge.

And so it goes in the turkey woods. It has been a frustrating start to the 2017 season. But I guess if all is fair in love and war, then there is nothing for me to do but adapt to this new style of fighting.

Tuesday will begin our fourth annual Turkey Camp. My father has still not killed a spring bird and I am hell bent on being a part of his first. We will add another Turkey Camper and first timer to the mix this year, as well. No matter what happens in the woods, the time spent in Turkey Camp is unmatched in importance to our yearly fulfillment of the hunter's spirit.

Tom Kelly says that, "you pay for every turkey you kill and the coin you use to pay for them is time". The kid, my father and I are all paying our dues. I feel each of our chance to cash in the chips will come right when it is supposed to.

There has been a lot of success on the board here, so far. Many congratulations to all of you who have notched a tag or three!

Best,
Royce

Keep after 'em, Royce. They are henned up here in Halifax County too but that should change in a week or so. At least they are talking pretty good this year so we know where they are.

I've had a good year for sure, but as of today they are still henned up big time here in the Northern Shenandoah Valley. I was out this morning and had one gobbler and two jakes fired up and here came the hens and dragged them off. Later on after the rain started, and I'd called it a morning, I drove around the farm and spotted single hens in 3 different locations, no doubt nesting nearby. Soon enough I have to believe most of the hens will be on the nest and things will improve.

Great recap of your hunts so far. Persistence usually pays off for hard hunting turkey hunters such as yourself. Really hoping its pays big for your dad.


Earl

Royce --

I've followed along on your hunts (through your writings of course) and at times, while reading, have felt as though I can smell the musty scent of wet leaves littering the forest floor. I can see the steep grade and feel the accompanying physical fatigue of climbing your rugged terrain.

As Greyghost stated, nice job writing up your recap/update, and I too am rooting for You and your Dad.