The latest rage in the grand endeavor of turkey hunting is the use of manufactured blinds. Videos of birds coming to calling or decoys indicate that they pay seemingly no attention to a cloth blind big as a Volkswagen right smack in the middle of their daily haunts. Of course I may never have seen a single video, out of at least a hundred, on a quest for the hard-hunted eastern birds we have in these parts.

Still, I would like to try one of the new blinds on spring gobblers. I crouched in one with Ben McDonald some time back on a vigil for whitetail deer and it was nice not to have to be so still. Of course, purists might see such a blind as gaining an advantage over a long beard that would provide a greater challenge had he been called by a hunter in the open. And I might come to that conclusion should I try a store bought blind.

However, the purpose of the blind is to hide, and we already hide with our camouflaged clothes, hats, gloves, masks and guns. And most of us cut branches to stick up in front of us to hide behind. Some carry a piece of camo cloth with stakes to sit behind. I have such a “blind” held up by straightened coat hangers stuck into the ground.

But my jury is still out on the use of blinds, and I hope to try one before judgment time.



A Friend’s Hunt



While I was considering the use of blinds for turkey hunting, an E-mail arrived from a South Dakota friend, Larry, telling and showing me the results of his spring turkey season. The photograph he sent clearly showed his new blind in the background.

His story made me long for the days when I hunted the fine Merriams gobblers in the mountains of Wyoming, Colorado and New Mexico. And in a way he made me jealous.

Yet in another sense that longing for the big-footed mountain birds was countered by my awareness of the supreme challenges that our eastern gobblers provide right here. Nevertheless this past season, as I sat for hours in silent woods, I often wished I were sitting on the rocky ground beneath ponderosa pines listening to a Merriams eagerly hustling up the ridge to my yelps and clucks.

Larry’s season was one to remember, and his store-bought blind played a major part. “I got two nice gobblers with my bow,” he announced. “I shot both of them from my ground blind. The first one I called in to six paces. The second one came in to about 75 yards but then would not leave the hens so I just had to wait until the hens fed and putted their way up to the decoys.  I got that one at 18 yards,” he continued.



Typical Western Toms



 Both of Larry’s birds were 18 pounders with nine inch beards, typical of Merriams toms that grind off their beards and spurs on the rocky ground where they live. I have never seen a Merriams gobbler with sharp spurs and a very long beard.

The icing on Larry’s cake this season was calling in a tom for his daughter, Sara, as her husband, Matt, looked on. “I called Sara’s in to 6 steps,” he said, “and she shot it with her 20 gauge with Matt sitting right at her side. What a hoot, or should I say gobble we had!” To complete a story book season Matt also got his gobbler in a less dramatic fashion (an ambush.)

There is no more ethical hunter around than Larry Baesler. So he really has me thinking hard about trying blind hunting for long beards. I realize such an experiment might insult these Rhodes scholar eastern gobblers and incite them to unmerciful laughter. But such hilarity could be no worse than the merriment they have already enjoyed at my expense.