Spring Means Turkey Hunting in Central Oregon

We were pretty much convinced that this turkey hunt wasn't going to pan out. We had only seen one hen in the first two days, and we were running out of leads. The snow was starting to fall and there was a pretty good chance that we would spend the day in the cabin depleting our beer supply. Then an old cowboy pulled up in the driveway. "You boys can't kill a turkey sitting here drinking coffee, you need to be down at Cal's place. I saw turkeys in there every day last week. Here's the key to the gate."

Nick and I graciously accepted the offer and threw our gear together. If there's one thing I've learned when it comes to hunting, when you get a hot tip, you move on it.

We rode the ATV's down the bumpy dirt road, stopping occasionally to glass the far hillside. It didn't take long to find a lone tom, strutting his stuff in a clearing below an Aspen thicket. Time was running out on the day, and we wagered that the bird would head to roost soon. We opted to vacate and return early the next morning.

The snow let up and we awoke to a bright dawn, just the type of weather break that could really get the birds active. Instead of one lovesick bird in the glade, this morning there were three. We parked the bikes and hiked the last mile to get above the birds.

Nick went to work on his slate call. Thirty uneventful minutes went by before one of the bird's heads popped up twenty yards in front of me, and I had my first wild turkey.

I came late to turkey hunting. My dad had never taken me as a kid, save the one time he got the family stuck overnight in a rainstorm when I was still in my mother's womb, but that's another story. I guess I just never really thought about hunting turkeys, not until one of my hunting partners went to Medford a few years ago and came back beaming. He had killed a bird, and was hooked. I had to see for myself what this was all about. Now having had the full turkey experience, I long for the spring turkey season with the same kind of enthusiasm as the autumn archery hunt.

Oregon actually has some fantastic turkey hunting, and is one of few western states where three birds can be harvested in a season. For much of the state, the limit is two birds, but a bonus tag can be purchased in the units around Medford, and Roseburg, the turkey capital of the state.

We have two sub-species of wild turkey in Oregon. The majority of the birds are Rio Grande's, found in Southern, Eastern, and Central Oregon. The Merriam's sub-species haven't taken as well in much of the state, but isolated populations can be found along the Columbia, from The Dalles east to Milton-Freewater.

Locally, the Ochoco and Maury mountains, and Metolius area all harbor healthy bird populations. I have yet to hunt any local spots, opting for Southern or Eastern Oregon, but I understand that the hunting pressure can be substantial, and most of the birds are pretty spooky. However, many hunters who put their time in scouting fill two tags every year within an hour drive of Bend. I would suggest calling our local ODFW biologists for Deschutes and Crook county turkey tips.

Calling is the most widely used method for hunting turkeys. Though gobblers will respond to hen calls all year long, it is during the spring breeding season that they are most receptive to both seductive hen imitations, and challenges from rivals.

"Gobbling" is generally used to locate birds, and should be used sparingly. Once a gobbler is pinpointed, hen calls are used to bring them into gun range. There are thousands of turkey calls on the market. For the novice hunter, you're probably best off with a box or slate call, before learning a diaphragm call. There are some very good audio and videotapes out there that teach the basics of calling. Spot-and-stalk methods have their place in turkey hunting, especially in open country.

The turkey I shot last year was spotted from over a mile away. However, it was the calling that eventually brought him into gun range. Wild turkeys are extremely wary animals and have keen eyesight (camouflage is a must). They are also quick learners, and become "call shy" after one or two close calls (no pun intended). Old "longbeards" are a true trophy, and a successful hunt will require the same patience, skill and persistence necessary to bag a bull elk. In fact, there are many comparisons between calling April turkeys and September elk. Maybe that's why I love it so much.

November is for the Birds

The six of us scrambled to get out of the truck as two rooster pheasants had caught us off-guard on our drive to the gate. They both flew before we had a chance to pursue. No sooner had we let one of my dogs out of the truck than a big covey of quail flushed, and the game was on.

We shot through plenty of shells and managed to take a few of the little speedsters. A little further down the draw we flushed two roosters, and Tyson and I teamed up to anchor one of them. A covey of Hungarian partridge blew off the sidehill, too far to shoot, but good to see after a two-year drought of these birds in my neck-of-the-woods. All in all it was a good opening day of upland birds season. Rusty shooting and rusty dog work prevailed as is often the case after eight months of fishing, big game hunting, and other endeavors that involve neither shotgun, nor pointer.

Oregon’s pheasant hunting has gone downhill since I was first old enough to carry a shotgun. This year seemed to be a little better, judging from the numbers of roosters I saw on our brief opening day jaunt. The real problem for most hunters lies in access: most pheasants are on private ground. However, there are some public land options for those willing to put in some drive-time. The Malheur Wildlife area and the Umatilla both offer pretty good pheasant opportunities. These hunts have special regulations and seasons, so pick up a game bird synopsis for more information.

Perhaps the ideal game bird is the little California Quail, a native son of the beaver state. Tight holding, fast, and delicious on the table, these little guys will test the skills of any shotgunner. Quail like the cover of creek bottoms adjacent to croplands, but also inhabit the sagebrush and juniper country: good news to the public land hunter. Quail typically hide in the thickest cover of a draw and without a dog you’re liable to walk right past them.

They will generally flush as a covey, so the hunter must pick out individual birds and watch where they land. Often dog and hunter can pick up the singles once the flock has dissipated.

I’m relatively new to the Hungarian Partridge, another import whose very name lends a hint as to its origins. This quarry is a perfect complement to my Brittanys, as the “Hun” tends to hold very well even on dogs that may be a little rambunctious. The difficulty in taking Huns lies in their tendency to all fly together in a tight group.

If the shooter fails to single out one bird and tries the ever popular but completely ineffective “flock shot”, then he/she will soon lose the respect of a hard-working gun dog. Some hunters bag on the Hun as table fare, but I think they taste just fine. For the fly tier, there is not a more valuable pelt than that of the Hungarian Partridge. If you can fill the daily bag limit of 8, you’ll have enough soft hackle to tie flies for years.

This brings us to the most challenging game bird in the land, the Chukar Partridge. A Mediterranean import, the Chukar gets its name from the sound the bird makes to locate others once a covey has been split up. If you like to beat yourself up in the pursuit of a bird, then this bird’s for you. Chukars inhabit the big desert canyons abundant in Eastern Oregon. The good news is that there is an abundance of public land to hunt chukars on, but all of it is very steep, rocky, and tiresome. A really good Chukar dog is a rare occurrence and if you have one I’ll gladly trade you my two mediocre ones. A dog needs to be able to point birds at a distance and make long range retrieves or you’ll wear holes in your boots before the day is done.