Pennsylvania Game News - April 2010 - 28

A Jake for Ben By Larry L. Harshbarger I T WAS SATURDAY, Apri118, 2009, the Youth Spring Turkey Hunt day. My 14-year-old grandson, Ben Kauffman, and I were in my pickup heading for a friend’s camp in Centre County. At 5:25 we pulled into the camp’s parking area, got out and joined the others inside. It wasn’t long until we learned that our other junior hunter and his uncle were already on the mountain behind camp. They had roosted a gobbler the evening before. Because they were east of camp, I asked the others if it would be okay if Ben and I headed west to hunt. “That’s what I would do if it were me,” answered the father of the other youth hunter. Ben and I went to the truck and got our gear together, and within minutes we were sneaking out the forest road west of camp, listening for gobbles as we went. We soon crossed the first hollow and entered a stand of jack pine. By this time I had to stop to rest. Once I got my wind back I turned to Ben and announced, “Look at that brightening sky. It’s going to be the perfect morning for hunting.” That said, we continued on west toward one of my favorite listening spots. Soon we were there. The spot is like a mini continental divide, where the land slopes back east toward camp and west toward the next large hollow. We began listening in earnest for the first gobble of the day. By now it was fully light, and the weather was perfect — clear, cool and still. In fact, I was so confident in the day’s hunt, I turned to Ben and said, “We’re not going to set up and call until we hear one. This is the perfect morning for gobblers to sound off on their own.” After listening for a couple of hours, though, and not hearing a single gobble, I told Ben that I had changed my mind. “Let’s quietly make our way to the next hollow. We’ll set up and make some calls at the edge of that mountain field where we called in that beardless turkey two years ago.” Ben nodded okay and off we went. Fifteen minutes later, we arrived at the edge of the woods bordering the field and hollow. We placed our two decoys — a jake and a hen — slightly into the field and to the left of where we would set up. After putting on our camo face nets and gloves, Ben loaded his 20-gauge shotgun and we sat down among some logs and stumps. Ben was sitting to my left and slightly in front of me. Both of us faced west toward the deep hollow. The open field was to our left, and the woods we had just passed through was on our right. After waiting 10 minutes, I made our first set of calls, using my mouth diaphragm — three yelps, three clucks, and then three yelps again. Anticipating an immediate gobble from the deep hollow in front of us, I was dismayed when we didn’t hear a thing. Ten minutes later Ben turned to me and whispered, “Pap, there are two deer out in the field.” As we sat there listening for gobblers, we both watched the deer move across the field and enter the woods adjacent to the deep hollow. I figure anytime young Ben sees wildlife in its natural habitat, it’s a win-win situation for both of us. As I slowly turned my head back to watch out in front, I noticed that our jake decoy was leaning over slightly. I checked my watch. It had been 20 minutes since I GAME NEWS

Pennsylvania Game News - April 2010

Table of Contents for the Digital Edition of Pennsylvania Game News - April 2010