Turkey Hunting in PA

I had a chance to spend some time with my parents last weekend in PA.  Played chess with mom, ate a few good  meals with them and my sis' family, and I had a neat little turkey hunt with my dad.

We arrived just as dawn broke, and as we drove back a dark, single track lane the headlights illuminated tall trees on either side.  For some reason I flashed back to Wales where friend Andy and I drove the back winding roads looking for sea run brown trout late at night, during what he referred to as the witching hour.  At the end of this lane was a white farm house, a barn and a few out-buildings  nestled beside a pond.   The geese were awake by now, two pairs of them, honking their spring mating calls.  We would hear them echo off the hillside down the valley throughout the morning. 

We walked quietly up a small hill and followed a bench on top of a hardwood forest hill covered with last season's leaves. About halfway down we sat on a log facing east and watched the morning arrive.   Eventually we heard turkeys gobble - a group of 3-4 down in the valley plus a single up top behind us.  We worked them off and on through the morning, once bringing them from several hundred yards away.  My dad worked the calls expertly - yelps, clucks, purrs and cuts.  Never too aggressive, sometimes subtle, always the right balance.  We never did see them, but it was pretty cool hearing them gobble closer and closer, and then hang up 50 yards away just over the crest of a hill, and then turn and slowly gobble their retreat.

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