The 2022 Kentucky Spring Gobbler Season started about as well as any. It rained overnight but stayed in the mid-fifties. The last shower evaporated a few miles from us just as we were heading out. It looked like things were going well. They did, just not for me. Angus and Moose had a tremendous morning.

I was out at the Honey Hole, due south of the cabin. There was gobbling, but nothing close. I ventured out of the blind after 0800 and put up my new experiment. I got the idea a few years ago, watching gobblers in the pre-season trying to make love to my umbrella mike. In the off-season, I acquired a rainbow-colored umbrella hat. I mounted this on a decoy stake and placed it out in the field. Nothing ever showed, but the hat caught the morning sun and jostled about in the breeze. My guess is that if a gobbler had seen it, they would have glommed onto it. However, the experiment failed for a lack of turkeys. I had a nice warm morning, a thermos of strong coffee, and a good book to read. That is all I have to report from my end. Considering I started the week flat on my back in the ICU, I call this a win.

Next comes Moose. #2 son has fallen in love with a blind at the top of Dead Skunk Hollow between the two old barns, east of the cabin. He bagged his monster gobbler last year from there on the Opener, so he was sure to be there to see if lightning would strike twice. It did, just not in the same way.

Shortly after legal hunting started, a gobbler came up behind him on his right side. The first indication he had was a spit and drum just behind his right ear. The gobbler was strutting about 10 yards from him with a potential shot blocked by a thick cedar. While Moose was angling about, looking for an opportunity, another gobbler came up on his left side and two more came out of the hollow and made a beeline for him. These two gobblers attracted the attention of the first and all four retired down into the hollow, kicking up a monumental bit of sparing. The whole lot disappeared down into Hootin’ Holler without ever presenting a shot. Moose characterized it as the best bit of turkey hunting he has ever experienced without closing the deal.

Angus, #3 son, chose Westwood for his Opening Day sit. This is a blind at the far end of our western pasture, nestled in the treeline. Like me, Angus had an uneventful sunrise and proceeded to doze off, waiting for things to develop. In the intervening hour since their departure from Moose, the gobblers had traveled down Dead Skunk Hollow to where it joins the larger Hootin’ Holler. They then traveled up this ravine and popped out onto the mid-ridge that splits the property. This would have been a journey of 400 yards or so. They then moved into the western pasture and finally showed up at Angus’ blind. Two of the gobs had become inseparable and marched right up to the blind without presenting a shot. When they veered at the treeline where Angus was hiding, Angus clucked and this was enough for them to pull apart and go into a strut.

I was some 500 yards away watching nature, when at 0819, there was one shot from behind my position, followed by a familiar holler. I called on the walkie-talkie. Angus had bagged one of the twins, and set the other along with a mess of hens and still another gobbler fleeing in panic. By the time my nature walk was over, the rest of the Shamanic Dream Team was already in, and the bird was ready for the freezer. He sported 1 1/8″ spurs and an 11-inch beard. We currently have a surplus of mature gobs on the place. Due to Covid restrictions, we were not able to hunt in 2019, and it left a whole cohort of birds to get fat and happy.

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