Well, despite a more than honest effort on my part, I didn’t end up bagging the turkey I was pursuing this spring. Those of you who know me best understand that I’m a very committed whitetail hunter. I’ve bagged a few turkeys, but they were either in the fall, or it happened so quickly and easily that I didn’t get a lot of experience. For instance, last year I scouted a group of birds and shot a decent gobbler on my first day out, within the first two hours of being in the woods. That was great, but it certainly didn’t make me a better turkey hunter. This year I decided I would really put forth an effort and try to learn something. Mission accomplished.

Since I last posted, I don’t think I missed a morning in the woods. Unfortunately, things really cooled down in the turkey world. On one morning, I never heard a gobble, and on the others, the active birds were many hillsides away, and out of my range. I never did have another face-to-beak with the bird I spent so much time chasing. When he sounded off this morning, I thought he might be within a reasonable distance for me to get to, so I beat feet as quickly as I could in his direction. Sweating profusely, I got to what looked like a good ambush point and made a few soft calls. As was the case the previous few mornings, he quit gobbling the minute he hit the ground. I’m not even sure he’s looking for a hen at this point and may just be gobbling because it has become the norm for him every morning. With that I headed home to help my wife prepare for a picnic we had planned with our family. I gathered all of my gear and returned it to my hunting room, where I’ll revisit it in a few days to put everything away properly.

A funny thing happened during our picnic that’s worth mentioning. About 2:30 p.m., I heard my bird gobbling excitedly on a neighboring hillside. Over the next hour, we listened to him work his way across the ridge, eventually picking up a jake along the way. If there was ever a time he seemed vulnerable this was it. I just laughed about it with our guests and was satisfied that he beat me this spring. I hope I have an opportunity to see him again this fall, or maybe even next spring. I had his number when it came to enticing him into range with my calls, but unfortunately it’s not how you start, but how you finish, and that’s where he owned me. Still, I consider it a tremendous season, and one where I learned more about turkey hunting than I ever had before. I have a ton of respect for that old bird, and I have to believe somewhere in his pea brain he has some respect for me. I have to say that I’m officially hooked on turkey hunting now, and I’ll blame that on a bird that I will likely never harvest.

Thanks you filthy, rotten old buzzard!

My Dad (right) with his first bear. Friend Jim Stormer also scored on what looks to be a great animal.

The good news is my Dad got his first bear while hunting in Canada this week. I can’t wait to hear the story. I don’t have any details yet because technology is pretty limited there as you might imagine. I do know that it weighed about 250 pounds, which is pretty good for a bear from the great north.

As for me, I’m still playing around with my friend Mr. Turkey. I thought I had him figured out the other day and I positioned myself accordingly at first light. I made a few calls just to let him know I was there, but I kept it pretty low-key. Well, just like most of the rest of the season, he pulled the unexpected. Let’s just say he about took my hat off when he gobbled in my ear from behind! Yep, the old buzzard came in silent until he got to within about 20 yards, and then decided he should announce his presence to the hen awaiting his magnificence. After another gobble I tried to peek around the tree with my gun barrel, only to hear him sound off his alarm and scoot out of harm’s way.

I made an adjustment this morning, but it turns out the bird was roosted well away from my setup. Not having a lot of time before work I decided to call it quits for the morning. I have a new trick up my sleeve for the next hunt, although I doubt it will work! Thank God there are just a few days left in the season.

Back to my reading for school. I apologize in advance for what will likely be many quick and less detailed posts. I’ll do my best.

The majority of the hens are sitting on nests right now, which gives hunters a late season opportunity to find a lonely gobbler.

This year more than any other, I dedicated a lot of time to turkey hunting. The bird I picked out prior to the season is still out there, and I’m down to one more week before having to pack away the gear until next year. One of the things I’ve learned this spring is sometimes it can be easy, meaning no matter what you do on the call, the bird is coming and will give you an opportunity. Another thing I’ve learned is sealing the deal can sometimes be the hard part. I used to think it was calling, but I’m changing my thinking on that. Finally, I figured out how how to turn frustration into enjoyment, which is a good thing when turkey hunting. Let me explain.

Yesterday I had a well though-out setup that included my blind in an area where I could see the birds coming in my direction from a good distance. I’ve been out enough days to know what their pattern is, so I figured I’d just cut them off along their route. Since the giant tom I’ve been flirting with is roosting further away, I decided I’d be willing to take a lesser bird if one presented itself. There are three gobblers in the group I’m watching, with two being jakes and the other somewhere in between. Just when it looked like things were going according to plan, I have to sit in the blind and listen to the “big guy” come through gobbling his head off as he walked through an area I had set up in many times previously! On top of that, the birds that normally stroll through where I was set up decided they would zig instead of zag, and walk through yet another area that I was using for an ambush location. This has been the story of my hunts over the last week or so, and in a strange way, it has been great!

My "other" life as a baseball manager.

After a lot of thought and research, I decided to go back to school for my master’s degree. Thanks to much better technology than when I got my bachelor’s degree at IUP a few moons ago, I’ll be able to get the degree in about 18-months by taking several six-week courses in succession on-line. With a little luck and a lot of hard work, I will have a master’s degree in psychology with a concentration in sports and performance from the School of Professional Psychology at University of the Rockies in Colorado Springs, CO. It’s a topic I’ve always been interested in, and I realize it’s a far stretch from the conservation field that I work in now.

I became strongly intersted in sports psychology when I began managing the Indiana Blackhawks adult baseball team last season. We did some remarkable things, and I attribute much of our success to our mental approach to the game. I’m interested in learing the formal concepts behind sports psychology, and the lineup of courses offered at the school are just what I was looking for. As for what I’ll do with it, I don’t know for sure. What I do know is that it will position me better for high-level positions in sports-related fields, among many other things.

The demand on my time will be the most interesting challenge, particularly this fall when hunting season is in full swing. I’ll have to work hard to keep my focus on school, while still trying to enjoy time in the woods.

Jason Mears with his trophy gobbler.

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After hunting almost everyday for the first two weeks of the spring gobbler season, getting up early each day was starting to wear on me but I was still able to drag myself out of bed come Saturday morning. I had seen nine different long-beards since opening day, but it was a constant battle with hens that have yet to nest. Finally after doing some scouting late last week, I was beginning to see gobblers without hens in tow.

I got into the field early on Saturday, around 4:45 a.m. and set up in a corner of a field that I have been seeing several gobblers roost in. As the sun began to brighten the morning, I heard a bird gobble about 75 yards to my left. He sounded like a jake based on his gobble so I wasn’t all that concerned with him. Within several minutes, other birds began to fire up in surrounding areas as well as two other gobblers about 100 yards behind me. I taunted them with some soft clucks and tree yelps and they hammered back with every call I made. Before long, the birds where on the ground and coming my way just over the hill in a small valley to my left. I worked these birds for over an hour but could not call them up over the hill, which is typical of what I have experienced in the past. I could also hear some hens in the mix which never makes things easy. I figured it was time to change the set-up. I quickly grabbed my decoys and changed my location to the end of the small valley in the woods. Once set-up I gave a few loud yelps and was promptly responded to with a thundering gobble. Within minutes, the large tom peaked around a wooded corner adjacent to the field and was within range. I put my bead on his head and squeezed the trigger. The result was my first bird of the season. He has a 10 1/2 inch beard, and 1 1/8  inch spurs.

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Thanks again to Jason for sharing his story. The timing of his text message on Saturday was amusing because I was just leaving the woods after having called in yet another gobbler, only to watch him flee because he saw me before I saw him. I set up mid-morning and was just enjoying the day, making a few calls when the bird came in silent. Of course, he came in to my right, and I was mostly watching to my left. I couldn’t tell if he was an older bird or not, and I thought it would be best to just let him scoot away without pursuing him and spooking him further.

On a lighter note, I did see my first fawn of the year. I’m guessing it was only about two days old based on its behavior. When its mother ran for cover upon seeing me, she gave the customary warning call, which caused the fawn to drop to its belly in the grass without moving. It’s amazing that they instinctively know how to respond to danger after just two days. Eventually the tiny deer got to its feet and bounded toward its mother. At that point, I didn’t care if I saw or heard another turkey. My day was made.

The below article is from the Ohio Department of Wildlife. A man from Minford, OH has the distinction of being the person who will pay the highest restitution for a poached deer in history. I applaud Ohio for punishing poachers as harshly as they do. It’s a despicable crime, and I don’t have an ounce of respect for anyone who engages in it. Check this out:

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Poached Ohio Buck

Johnny B. Clay, 37, of Minford pled guilty to four charges including taking a deer in a closed season, hunting without permission, no hunting license and no deer permit. The Honorable Judge Roy E. Gabbert Jr. presided over the case and ordered Clay to pay $1,500 in fines, an additional $134 court costs, and to forfeit the deer as well as the bow he used to kill it.

In addition, Clay will lose his hunting privileges for life. Clay had 10 prior wildlife convictions for deer violations and has spent time in jail for several of those offenses. He will be entered into the Wildlife Violator’s Compact and most likely will lose hunting rights in 33 other states.

The Division of Wildlife is also imposing restitution for the deer in the amount of $23,572.05. This is in accordance with Ohio’s revised restitution law for illegal taking of white-tailed deer. The law went into effect March 2008 and allows the Division of Wildlife to seek an increased recovery value on all illegally harvested wildlife.

The typical trophy deer, scored according to Boone & Crockett (B&C) guidelines, netted an impressive 197 2/8. This deer was the largest typical white-tailed deer harvested in North America during 2009. In Ohio, this deer would rank fourth all time in the Buckeye Big Buck Club records.

Concerned citizens contacted Ohio Wildlife officers Chris Rice and Chris Gilkey about the questionable taking of the trophy deer in March 2010. Upon closer investigation, the officers discovered that the deer was unlawfully taken in Adams County, Ohio during 2009. Clay then checked the deer in as a Kentucky archery kill.

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To add insult to injury, this was the top buck killed in North America in 2009. What a sad way for this great animal to end its life. Instead of the deer being taken by a respectable hunter following all of the rules and hunting ethically, it was taken by a terribly selfish criminal. If you know someone who is poaching, please do your part and report it to your local conservation officer or game warden. It’s the right thing to do.

Blinds can be very effective on turkeys. Unlike deer, they don't seem to be bothered by their presence.

Why didn’t somebody tell me that turkeys actually use the Internet? Apparently the bird I’ve been after saw my post last night that I knew where he was hanging out because he was on the opposite side of the hill this morning. I thought we were following some basic gentleman’s rules in this battle, but apparently nobody told him.

When you take a good punch you have to counterpunch, so I pulled out an ace that I had hidden up my sleeve. Being in the blind will allow me to be a bit more comfortable while I wait the bird out since I’ll be able to get away with a little bit of movement. All I need to do is climb into it under the cover of darkness and wait. This bird won’t stand for calling anymore, so I’ll be hunting him like I would an old buck. I’ll wait it out until a hen drags him into harm’s way.

Hey Mr. Turkey! Since I know you’re reading this, don’t make any long-range plans.

I know where his “hood” is. I know where he’s sleeping, where he’s eating, and who he’s hanging out with. He knows I’m out there, and that I have bad intentions. We have even been eye to eye a few times. I have no doubt that I’ve made him smarter, and that a few poor decisions have swung the odds steeply in his favor. Knowing this only hardens my resolve.

He thinks he knows me. He expects me to make another mistake. He has home field advantage, and he’s seen more than a couple of winters. He’s not lacking confidence. He may know that I’m out there, and generally what I look like, but what he doesn’t know is my desire. He can’t understand my passion to succeed. I may not come out on top in the end, but I’ll be on him tighter than lug nut on a junkyard Gremlin. If it ends in his favor, I learn from it and move on. Unfortunately for him, a mistake on his part means it’s game over…forever.

If you’re reading this Mr. Turkey…I’ll see you in the morning.

If you haven’t noticed yet, I added a link a few weeks ago to a blog titled “Skunk in the Woodpile.” I would encourage you to check it out, particularly if you’re a Pennsylvanian. The site was developed by three people who I know, including Roxane and Vince Pallone, and Bob Frye. Roxane is a former Commissioner of the Pennsylvania Game Commission and a retired forester with the U.S. Forest Service. Her husband, Vince, is the brains behind making the blog tick according to the site. Bob Frye is the Outdoors Editor for the Pittsburgh Tribune Review, and the author of an excellent book, “Deer Wars – Science, Tradition, and the Battle Over Managing Whitetails in Pennsylvania.”

The team covers a variety of topics in a witty and entertaining way, while hitting tough issues governing hunting and fishing in Pennsylvania head on. Once you read the first post you’ll find yourself digging through the site looking for more. Since I don’t write everyday during this time of the year, I encourage you to give “Skunk in the Woodpile” a read.

First, let me thank all of you for e-mailing and calling about the status of Rub Lines. I’m flattered that so many of you took time out of your day to check in, and ask if the site was going back on-line.

Now that the site is live again, I’ll take a few moments to tell you about some changes to the format of the blog. First, you’ll see a lot less “reporting” about my time in the woods or on the water. I feel that I’ve been a bit too detailed at times, and got away from the art of putting my readers in the moment. I don’t think it’s terribly interesting to read about someone else’s play-by-play account of their hunting or fishing trips, so I won’t bore you with mine. Also, I plan to cover broader conservation topics that affect our outdoor pursuits. I do a lot of reading about various conservation issues as part of my profession, and I think many of you would be interested in my perspective on a few of them.

I sincerely appreciate all of you who follow the site. It’s what fuels me to keep going. With your help, I hope to make Rub Lines better than ever.