The Sons of Moto

I got Turkey Camp opened up Saturday. I have learned that it is not wise to show up on a Friday night. You never know what you’ll find. I always wait for Saturday morning to go down. The place was just as we’d left it. My sons came down a few hours later and went out for a late-season squirrel hunt.

I ventured out mid-afternoon to check out The Honey Hole. It was pretty much as I’d left it last Yute Opener. I was out getting audio for a podcast when I got a call warning me that NR license sales had been suspended. I’d had a brainstorm out there the week before about how to build a fake stump by nailing plywood between two trees. I had painted a board, but never got a chance to nail it up. The fake stump is meant to replace the massive oak tree I had sat against over a decade. The tree fell over a few years ago. The board will be right next to where I used to sit. I had to clear out some old fence, but once that was done, I sat down and it was like being home again. You’ll here more about the fake stump later.

All this is prelude to what happened at sundown. I have to go all the way back to 2010. That was the year Mister Moto started gobbling. He was just there that spring. His first appearance was in the pre-season. There was this gobbler over on the neighbor’s place that would not shut up. He was the first to gobble and he kept going all morning long. He never showed any interest in us. He always stayed on his side of the line. He strayed over to our side late that season and caught me napping at The Thoughtful Spot late one afternoon. We at least got a look at each other that once.

After that, Mister Moto, the motor-mouthed gob, gobbled all the way to summer and beyond. I heard him in every month of the year. By fall, he was back across the ravine on the north side and he stayed there after that. I came back in 2011 and he was there to greet me. Moto lasted about 5 years, and then, one spring, he was gone. The cool thing was that by this time, we now had The Sons of Moto all gobbling their heads off. Whatever it was, it was genetic. Then one day the Sons of Moto were gone as well. I think that was about 2017-2018. We had silence for a couple of years. Meanwhile, the Motoid stock had moved up and down Pity Creek from our place. You could hear them distantly on good mornings.

Motoids came back to our ridges in 2019. They were in great abundance in 2020. Last night, while I was sipping my scotch, they started up again. There were at least three. Two were on our property, down in Hootin Holler. The third was in some tall cedars on the neighbor’s property close to the original Moto’s favorite roost.

The big thing about the Motoids is their desire to gobble in every month of the year. They never turn off. I was here a decade before Moto showed up. Our ridges were pretty silent from June to mid-March. Secondly, they don’t shut up. Moto would go all morning during season. Third, and I don’t know if this is still true, but the original Moto seemed to be a lonesome bachelor. I never heard hens around him. He never came to our calls. Lastly, these birds not only like to sound off in the morning, but they do a lot more evening gobbling. It was a rarity to hear a bird gobble at sundown around our place. Now it is a regular occurrence. What’s more, I’ve heard gobbling parties a few times that stretch to dark. One night I went to bed and they were still gobbling.

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