Hope Springs Eternal in the Turkey Woods
I have a enormous sense of affection for wild turkeys (Meleagris gallopavo). I cringe every time I hear someone say that wild turkeys are ugly, unintelligent, or otherwise unworthy of our admiration. More than likely, if someone thinks a wild turkey is ugly, that person has probably never been up close to one. The colour of their feathers is almost impossible to pinpoint and when examined up close on a sunny day, has a shimmer that is hard to overstate. I’ll concede, their head looks like something that might have been drawn by someone with a complete disdain for colouring inside the lines (then again, so are many of the most celebrated art masterpieces); however, wild turkeys are big, beautiful birds whose ability to gobble a spring predawn forest to life is unparalleled.
In Ontario, we also have a lot to be thankful for with regard to the eastern wild turkey (Meleagris gallopavo silvestris), and they deserve our respect. Wild turkeys were extirpated from Ontario by 1909, as a result of unregulated hunting and changing land organization, in particular habitat loss due to the clearing of land for agricultural expansion.
In 1984, efforts began to reintroduce wild turkeys to Ontario, and in 1987, trap and transfer programs expanded the range of birds to additional areas of the province. From an estimated 4, 400 birds initially released throughout Ontario, the 2007 estimated population of wild turkeys stood at more than 70, 000.
Thanks to hunting and conservation organizations like the OFAH and CWTF, the population is now believed to be even higher and the status of wild turkeys in Ontario is stable and healthy. The first regulated wild turkey hunt in Ontario took place in 1987, and there has since been an expansion to new management units, an additional season implemented, and an increase in limits.
An Enduring Affection
I absolutely love turkey hunting. Wild turkeys were the first species I hunted, and I live in what I think is one of the most beautiful areas of Ontario (the Kawartha Lakes region), so to a certain extent, I credit them with bringing me into the world of hunting. The spring turkey hunt holds just as much excitement for me as the opening day of the deer hunt. I suppose part of this is because my experience hunting turkeys has been defined by a collage of wonderful juxtapositions.
I have actively hunted these birds for 5 spring seasons and I have yet to be successful. As days grow longer in the spring, we get increasingly more time to hunt; this of course also means the alarm is set earlier each day. As the days warm, there are few things in life better than spending an afternoon basking in the sun under a tree; then, the mosquitos can be unbearable by mid-season and make sitting still next to impossible. The sound of toms (male turkeys) gobbling just before the sun comes up is both haunting and adrenaline-inducing; the sight or sound of them flying down from the roost in the opposite direction from you can be agonizing.
Wild turkeys are somewhat of a perfect combination of the characteristics that define other hunts: you can hunt them with gun or bow; you call them, and they call back; they require patience and discipline; you hunt them while they are fired right up and focused on breeding; they have a fascinating natural and cultural history; they have their own set of sensory advantages over us, adding a big challenge to their pursuit. Yet, unlike virtually any other big game species, you might as well give up all hope of any kind of spot and stalk strategy to hunt them. This means that a very familiar situation for a turkey hunter is hearing a bird screaming at you just out of sight – over a hill, across a fence row, behind some trees – and being completely unable to pursue the source of the call.
In other words, wild turkey hunting is both wildly addictive and intensely frustrating. It’s probably the combination of these that makes this species such a perfect representation of what hunting means to me, what keeps me coming back for more, and will have me out in the turkey woods every spring.