Last Call
11/01/2025
I parked in the empty camping spot all ready to hunt turkey. Outside the truck I put my hip boots on and grabbed my gear. Under the beam of my flashlight I crossed the shallower section of the creek, under the dim moonlight, to the other side. I could have parked along the road and walked across the bridge to the pipeline gait but that would have took longer. On the other side of the creek I took off my hip boots and put on my hunting boots I carried with me. I put the big flashlight in my folded hip boots and laid them against a big rock along the bank. I took out my smaller, pen like, flashlight and walked up to the pipeline.
It was the first day of fall turkey season here in Pennsylvania. I was camping along the Clarion River for the past week or so. I’v been hunting the area around the camper but didn’t hear or find any sign of turkey in the area. Upon driving River Road I’d come across small flocks of turkeys but they were always in posted areas except one spot.
For the past couple of years I would see a few turkeys feeding in the openings of the wide pipeline trail. One day, on the drive back to my camper the past week, I saw a few turkeys crossing the pipeline trail. Without any signs around my camper I decided to hunt the turkeys there.
I had already checked out where to cross the creek in shallow water. I knew it might be more dangerous, meaning I might slip crossing with rubber soled hip boots, but I thought it would get me to the pipeline quicker and not walk up the pipeline in the morning light from the road.
On the pipeline I walked into the woods. Being I never hunted on the other side of the pipeline trail I was walking blind. I only went maybe 20 yards into the dark woods, found a tree to sit by, scraped leaves away and sat down to wait out the darkness of the morning. I loaded the over and under double barrel, put on my camo gloves and was hoping the turkeys wouldn’t spot me in my camos I was wearing from head to toe. It was a quiet morning in the darkness. Every once in a while a cool breeze would blow through the tree tops rattling the bare branches and some of the fragile leaves that still hung from their limbs. On occasion I’d hear a vehicle, from the side of the road I parked my truck, drive up the small section of pavement and then upon the gravel road leading along the creek till the sound was unheard. I sat listening to anything that was within ear shot but it was quiet until dawn.
It was just starting to get light out when the whole hillside erupted in turkey clucks and gobbles. Up to my left it sounded like a bunch of wild turkeys clucking, and yelping noisily like they owned the hillside waiting to get together on the ground. Over to my right, about a hundred yards or more, gobblers would gobble as if letting the cluckers know they are listening.
Once it was bright enough I suppose the flock, or two, up to my left flew down from their roost. For about a half hour or so it sounded like an all out riot of name calling by a few rival pirate gangs in a grog shop. While that was going on the gobblers to my right would sound off as if cheering them on. I finally heard them fly down but they were somewhere in the distance beyond vision. For about a half hour after all the riot noise, on occasion, I’d hear a few clucks and gobbles until the woods fell silent. I tried to coax one to come in my direction but they didn’t appear that any of them wanted to do anything with a stray lost turkey caller. I sat till around 10 and then walked deeper in the woods to check out the area.
I made it to the top of the hillside and the ground was tore up with turkey scratchings. Both old and fresh leaves were scattered about showing that the turkeys visit the hilltop often. I sat for awhile and watched a few squirrels and chipmunks playing around. I spotted a couple of deer and a buck with a very visible rack a little over a hundred and fifty yards away. With no signs or sounds of turkey I headed back down the hill and back to my truck. I figured to go back to camp, eat lunch, take my senior citizen nap, and come back in the evening. I figured I didn’t walk far enough in the woods in the morning to be within sight of the roosting turkeys. Now that I was more familiar with the area I might have a better chance for locating a flock.
About 2 pm I got my camos back on and drove down to the pipeline. Instead of crossing the creek I decided to cross on the bridge and slow and quietly walk up the pipeline before walking into the forest. It went as planned.
Into the forest I still wanted to be able to see the pipeline so I walked about fifty yards or so into the woods and made a place to sit. It was a long wait while watching squirrels and chipmunks scurrying around before I heard the sound of fallen leaves being rustled on the forest floor behind me. I slowly turned to my left and looked down towards the pipeline. There were at least 5 gobblers, I spotted, rustling and feeding into the crisp leaves. Some of them were long beards. I was able to turn easily to get my shotgun within vision without too much movement or noise. Two of the turkeys were well within my vision feeding but I felt out of distance range of my 3” mags. I must have watched them for about 15 minutes as they fed and unknowingly teased me with a shot. There was a thick diameter log laying upon the ground that at least three turkeys were feeding beyond but two of them continued feeding on my side of the log. They slowly fed getting closer but there was thin short leafless saplings scattered between me and the two. One hopped over the log towards the far side. There was a scattering of thick branches, it looked like beyond the log, of a fallen tree. It appeared that the two of the turkeys on my side were going to head that way which they would disappear from my sight. The one turkey got within my shot gun sight. He was maybe 40 yards but not more than 50. I could only see his neck and head as he stood, head up, as a lookout in the crows nest. I decided to take a shot before he disappeared behind the log. I pulled the trigger and watched as the turkey I aimed at and the others flew back towards and over the pipeline. I evidently didn’t hit the turkey as he flew off without looking to be wounded. I thought I heard a cluck beyond the thickest part of the branches of the dead fallen tree. I waited a bit before slowly walking down to see if there were feathers of the turkey I shot at. There was none.
Figuring I might of scattered a flock that was nearby I backed up just this side of the log out in front of the thick saplings I shot through. I sat high enough that I was able to see over the fallen log though not through the thick branches of the fallen tree. I had a clear opening, without much interference of the short sapling, for about 50 yards or so. While sitting there for about 20 minutes or so I heard some clucking beyond the thickest part of the fallen tree. Just after that I heard the gobblers on the other side of the road start to answer. I decided to cluck along hoping to get a turkey interested to come out of the thickest part of the woods and into my vision.
Slowly, walking with caution, a turkey appeared within my vision. He had his head up and I’m sure looking for any signs of distracting movement. I already had my double barrel up with my elbow resting on my knee. The gobblers on the other side would call out and I’d cluck and purr now and again to get the turkeys attention. On occasion he’d look my way and look back again towards the gobblers as if trying to make a decision of which way he wanted to go. He was within 30 yards I’d say when he was in view and without any interference of brush. I called out for the last time and he stopped and looked my way. I looked down the shotgun rail and put the bead on his neck just under his head and pulled the trigger. The double barrel sounded off, in the quietness of the forest, like a cannon being fired from a pirate frigate on the high seas. He tumbled backwards upon the leafy ground as if he just gotten shot in the chest by a pirates blunderbuss. I listened to him flapping his wings as leaves blew off the forest floor from his frantic flapping. My gun was up for another shot but he was evidently doing a death roll. He disappeared in a divot in the forest floor out of my vision. I heard a few more rustling of leaves before everything turned quiet once more. I waited a short after reloading from the spent shell in the bottom barrel. Quietly I got up and attached my hot seat to my belt and wrapped, and locked, my fanny pack around my waist.
Slowly I moved towards where I shot at the turkey. I found him, feet upwards like a passed out drunken swabbie on the main deck of his ship!
I looked at my cell phone and it read 6:05 pm. After field dressing the 6” bearded turkey I carried him to the truck and drove towards camp.
Back at camp I hung the gobbler from a tree limb and went and had supper. After that I got a hot campfire going in the cold chilly night. I lit up a Last Call cigar and opened a can of beer. I sat back and enjoyed the camp life!
~doubletaper
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