I’m not sure why it happens, but it happened again this year. I had gobblers galore hanging out at Horseshoe Hills pretty much all fall and winter and into early spring, only to have them disperse and move to the fringes or out of the area all together by the time hunting season started. There was a group of seven gobblers that eventually slimmed down to four by early April, and by the May 2nd opener there were just a couple showing up on camera, but inconsistently. Undeterred, I set my blinds in the usual places and Mike and I headed out on opening morning to give it a shot.
All things considered, we had pretty good weather. It was cold with the daylight temperature hovering just above freezing, but I’d rather have that than have it be unseasonably warm. We chose the blind on Buck Meadow as it has been a consistent producer, and it also sits high on the property allowing us to determine the location of gobbling birds pretty easily. It turns out we didn’t have to wait long because we had a very active bird going well before first light. In fact, it was at least one mature tom with what sounded like a couple jakes or subordinate gobblers. The problem was they were well off to the east and likely near the property border, and unlikely to come our way.
We waited and listened for about a half hour after sunrise before making the move to the blind setup on the Gas Well plot. I was using my very productive two hens and a jake Dave Smith Decoys setup, which has helped me bag many birds over the years. Everything looked great, and when the birds promptly answered my first call, I thought we might be in business. Our strategy was to wait the mature tom out and not call to him. He knew where we were and given we were hunting in a high pressure area, we figured less was more. Turns out we were right because the next time the bird gobbled he had cut the distance in half. I whispered to Mike that, “This just might happen.”
The next time we heard the bird he was likely within 50 yards, but we couldn’t see him. He was between the creek and our setup, and I anticipated his arrival any second. I clicked off my safety and got settled for a shot, expecting to see the old boy entering the plot to our left. I waited, and waited some more before having my hopes doused with cold water when the bird next gobbled a good distance past our setup. Apparently he never got close enough to see the decoys and likely was in the company of hens. His closest gobble to us was an invitation to join his party, not an announcement that he had arrived.
The short version of how the rest of the morning went is we did get the tom to respond a couple more times, but it was obvious he wasn’t coming in as long as there were willing hens around. Me moved back to the Buck Meadow blind as the sun broke through the clouds hoping the birds might circle up that direction, but it didn’t happen. Around eleven o’clock we decided to call it a morning and went home empty handed.
Even though Sunday hunting is now fully in play in Pennsylvania, this spring is a bit of an oddity because hunting is not allowed during the 2026 spring gobbler season. Our seasons run from fall to spring and don’t go by the calendar year, so it won’t be until next spring that Sundays are open. I mention that because I had to wait until Monday to get another crack at the bird. This time I started the morning from a location Mike and I set up after our close encounter where we figured the bird likely moved through. I had a couple of hours to hunt before needing to start my work day, but I thought that might be all I needed. Mike was still in town so he joined me but hunted with his bow from the Buck Meadow blind.
As predicted, the mature tom gobbled as the first hint of light started to show over the ridge. What I didn’t predict was him being closer to the top of the hill than the bottom where I was. Mike heard him too, and was equally surprised by his location. Despite my best effort, I couldn’t get the smart old bird to answer me once he pitched from his roost, and that made it a pretty quick morning because the woods quickly fell silent. Mike stuck it out for a couple hours after I left, but reported later that he never hears another gobble.
I tried again on Thursday morning but this time the birds were across the creek on the neighbor’s land and didn’t seem to have much interest in crossing to my side. I only heard a few gobbles while the birds were still roosted, and just a couple after fly down. Once again my time was limited so I did a little scouting before calling it a morning. My assumption is the hens are giving enough attention to the gobblers that it’s going to be difficult to get a tom to cover much ground to investigate a call. Until that changes, it’s going to be slow going for me, especially considering I typically have only a couple hours to play with each day.
With a rained out Saturday and multi-day work trip coming up, I’m not sure I’ll get out again until the middle of the month. Frankly, if the fishing is good, I may not go again this season. I enjoy turkey hunting, but if I have to choose between that or fishing, fishing is always going to win. I’m also not nearly as competitive with the birds as I used to be having bagged more than my share. I do hope to try again a time or two this season but I won’t love any sleep over it in the meantime.