Pennsylvania Game News - June 2019 - 30

away in Pennsylvania.
In 2017, for the second time in seven
seasons, I used McCoy's advice to fill a
gobbler tag in the afternoon - and on the
final day of the season, no less.

WAITING GAME

Having tagged birds earlier in the year
in South Carolina, North Carolina and
New York, I felt little pressure that final
morning, other than hearing McCoy's
voice in my head saying, "If y'all can
kill a bird in Pennsylvania, y'all can kill
a bird anywhere."
And the bird I was after had won
every encounter with me and a friend
the entire season.
Not that spring-gobbler hunters are
superstitious, but I decided to change
my routine right out of the chute, going
light on breakfast and skipping the cream
cheese on the bagels. Then I hedged
my luck by using my wife's shotgun
case and carrying only a mouth call by
award-winner Austin Hornberger, of
Ringtown; a box call by NWTF champion Ed Terefencko, of Pottsville; and a
Zink Calls pot call from Matt Morrett,
of Lingelstown, who now works as the
Game Commission's marketing director.
I switched my usual set-up location
and placed a pair of Avian-X hen decoys
in case the old boy's hens had left him to
tend their nests.
Then, I relied on patience, which
is much more than a virtue and a darn
effective tactic to take a spring gobbler.
As I had learned from McCoy, all
tricks work in taking a bird, just not all
the time.
Settling in, the morning quiet was
interrupted not by the anticipated gobbles, but the rumble of distant thunder
moving closer.
I arrived at my truck just in time to
30

wait out the mother of all thunderstorms
while passing time listening to TheBeatles Channel on Sirius/XM Radio.
With the storm off to the west, it was
time to get back to my tree. And a bird
- the bird - finally gobbled at 9:10 a.m.
For the next two hours and 20 minutes, we went toe to claw, with the results
the same as all the previous mornings.
And at 11:30 a.m., it was off to Pine
Grove to attend the Schuylkill County
Conservation District meeting at the Red
Lion Café.
Driving back to the hunting location afterward, I considered which of
McCoy's afternoon-hunting tips would
make the most of the season's final hours.
Rather than use another field setup, I
headed for a ridge in the woods above
where I'd last heard the bird gobbling.
It was 2 p.m., but, remembering
McCoy's advice, I waited until midafternoon - between 3 and 4 p.m. during
daylight-saving time - to begin working
the bird.
My go-to cigar, a Nat Sherman Metropolitan Maduro, helped to pass the
time enjoyably and I made my first calls
at 3:30 p.m., sending into motion what
amounted to a textbook hunt.
Using soft clucks and purrs at 3:50
p.m., the bird responded with the first
in a series of thunderous gobbles that
indicated it was on the move and getting closer.
At 4:05, the gobbler crested a rise,
some 40 yards away, and continued to
close the range before my Mossberg 935
delivered on target a load of No. 5s from
a Federal 3½-inch turkey shell.
Yes, afternoon hunts - even on the
final day of the season - can produce
unforgettable memories. This hunt, however, was mostly about the memories of
a special hero.
Pennsylvania Game News - June 2019

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