Dan Geddings: Some MRI (most recent information)

Slowing down, I glanced at the powerline right of way, but no wild turkeys were in sight. When I turned my attention to the highway, I was surprised to see several turkeys crossing the road just ahead. I slowed to a stop to give them some space and get a good count. Fourteen hens and two gobblers crossed. The last one was a big longbeard.

I was crushed, disappointed and almost sick to my stomach. These turkeys were crossing from our hunt club property through a cut-over into a neighboring hunt club property. They were leaving the big swamp where I had been scouting for the upcoming turkey season. It was just after four in the afternoon, and I wondered, "will they come back before dark, are they leaving for a few days or leaving the property for good?"

Just a few days before, I had walked down the powerline into the swamp, before daylight. The air was crisp and cool. In the darkness, owls hooted. Some of the song birds were just beginning to stir out in the hardwoods. The eastern sky was beginning to show some color. I could hear water running nearby. I knew from previous scouting trips that most of the turkeys in this section of the swamp were roosting on the north side of the right of way. After standing there only a few minutes, I heard a hen make a very soft yelp from the woods on the south side.

A gobbler boomed an answer from the big hardwoods on the north side. Another gobbler saluted the morning from a distance. That hen never made another sound, but other turkeys called in the predawn shadowy darkness. Hens cackled and cut from the treetops on the north side, and several toms answered with double gobbles. A couple of jakes chimed in with some almost comical attempted gobbles. The woods seemed to be filled with turkeys.

Farther down the powerline, several more gobblers could be heard. I didn't try to move any closer. The ground gets too wet, and I didn't want to be seen or disturb the natural show. The light had crept in behind me, and I glanced over my shoulder to see the sun peeping through the treetops. The next gobbles I heard were on the ground. I could track the turkeys through the timber with their constant calls. I was very pleased to hear all the activity.

Turning away, I heard a hen yelping loudly on the south side of the powerline. I took out my cellphone and recorded a short video of the hen calling and some of the gobblers answering from the north side. It seemed like the powerline was an unseen boundary of some kind for the turkeys. The hen kept up her calling and began moving to the east, parallel to the powerline. If it had been a hunter, I would have scolded him for calling too much.

I walked back up the hill on the powerline and stood there listening. I was surprised to hear a gobbler answer from the area where the hen had started calling. The hen kept calling and moving to the east. The gobbler followed and gobbled enough for me to track his progress. I don't know if he caught up with the mouthy hen, but after a while they both went quiet. Now I know a little more about the turkeys in this area of the club.

Back at the truck, I turned onto the highway and headed toward the clubhouse road. When I turned in, a large group of turkeys was standing in the road, just off the highway. Mostly hens, but I could see a few jakes. They didn't seem to be too alarmed and milled around some before walking into the big timber. I parked the truck, got out and walked to the road where the turkeys had been standing. There were strut marks in the sand where a gobbler had been strutting and dragging his wing tips in the dirt. Probably one of the jakes.

I had seen enough and headed to the house. Now a few days later, I was watching a flock leave the property near the powerline. But I know even if they don't come back, there's still some birds left in the big swamp. If not, then I know some are in the clubhouse road vicinity. That's the most recent information that I have. At least until I go back to scout some more.

Email Dan Geddings at cdgeddings@gmail.com