Fishing guides are smart. If they stumble in the brains department, they often are out of business within a year.

Guides know when to make decisions. and then proceed with an action plan. That plan may not always produce the desired results, but I'd rather have a guide who is willing to make a sound decision based on his experience than fence-straddle all day while nothing happens.

Arnie Minka of Grawn and I had booked a steelhead trip with Mark Rinckey of Honor (231-325-6901) a few years ago. Fishing had been extremely slow, but it's been too nice of a day to reschedule a trip. We were committed to it even though we knew steelhead fishing had been unremarkably dismal for two weeks.

"We are going to try something new," Rinckey told us when we met in Honor at 5:30 a.m. "The water level flowing over the rivermouth where the Betsie River flows into Betsie Bay has been so shallow that few steelhead are moving upstream. We're going after them in Betsie Bay."

Rinckey has been guiding river salmon and steelhead fishermen since 1977 when I first started fishing with him. He's come up with some strange ideas in the past, but they often pay off. Minka and I would go along with this venture with great anticipation.

A hunch paid off with this steelhead for Arnie Minka (left) and Rinckey.

We got to a spot that borders the Elberta side of Betsie Bay, walked to the water, and stuck short sandspikes at the water's edge to hold the rods. Rinckey began rigging lines with a quarter-ounce pyramid sinker, a four-foot leader of four-pound test, and a No. 8 hook. Spawnbags would be used for bait.

The first bait hit the water, and Rinckey was rigging the second rod, when a steelhead rattled the rod. I grabbed it, set the hook, and held on as a fish powered off on a 20-yard run. Five minutes later an 8-pound steelhead was skidded up to shore.

Rods No. 1 and 2 was baited, and Rinckey was working on Rod No. 3, when the second rod dipped toward the surface, and Minka grabbed it and held on as another fish powered off on a short but determined run. That fish was soon landed, the line was baited again, and we soon had five lines in the water before the sun rose above an eastern hill.

Guides often have hunches and they often produce fast action.

"This is the first time I've fished this spot," Rinckey told us during a lull in the action. "It made sense to me because the fish often follow the dropoff as they move upstream, but I think these fish are stranded here because of the extremely low water just below the M-22 bridge. Very few fish are making it upstream through that skinny water.

Another strike, and this was a 10-pound male for Arnie. I hooked an 8-pound silver female, fought her and she was soon released. The strikes weren't coming too fast, but every 10 to 15 minutes, we'd have a bump or a hook-up and it kept our attention level high.

Boats were trolling the harbor but the action was slow for them. For us, we seemed to be in the right place at the right time. And frankly, folks, that is why people hire fishing guides to show us how and where to fish.

The fishing often slows about 8 a.m., but not today. A bright, sunny day, and the only thing that changed was the fish went slightly deeper. We'd make longer casts, allow the sinker and line to sink to bottom, tighten up the line, stick the rod in a sandspike, adjust the drag and wait for a nodding rod tip to signal another biting fish.

Rinckey with a nice spring fish.

Other steelhead were caught, and then Arnie landed a seven-pound brown trout. The fish fought hard, stayed deep, and was a lovely specimen. It was quickly unhooked, held aloft for a photograph, and quickly released.

"Hunches do pay off," Rinckey said. "I've had a few that didn't work, but often a hunch is based on fishing knowledge, an analysis of existing river conditions, and a small portion of good luck. I thought about this spot last night when I was trying to fall asleep, and it proved to be a genuine hotspot."

He said that tomorrow's fishing at the same location may not produce a fish. If so, then a good guide refers his clients to Plan B.

Rinckey doesn't need a Plan B very often. He knows spring steelhead, and is adept at helping clients catch them. A 10-fish catch and the release of six fish over a half-day of fishing should be good enough for anyone. It was certainly good enough for us.

Posted via email from Dave Richey Outdoors

It was April 1, 1968, and my second year of guiding fly fishermen to brown trout, salmon and steelhead fishermen. My twin brother, George, and I was scouting the Little Manistee River between 6 Mile and 9 Mile bridges, for clients who would arrive to fish the next twp days.

The river was rain-swollen and murky, and in another hour of heavy rain, it would be a foot higher and the color of chocolate milk. I thought a big buck steelie was on a shallow gravel bar an easy cast from shore, and George shinnied up a shoreline tree and stood on a big branch to check things out.

"That fish is huge," George muttered to me. "It's bigger than any steelhead I've ever seen, and his cheeks and gill covers are a bright orangish-red color. This is an awesome fish.

"You know about where he is. Cast a copper spinner upstream and reel hard when I tell you."

The author admires a Betsie River steelhead.

I cast, and George said to cast another six feet farther upstream in hopes of getting the spinner down in the heavy current. My next cast, he said, was on target.

"That's the spot," he said. "Keep casting to it. Reel hard now!"

I reeled, and nothing happened. Cast after cast went into the right spot, and I'd reel fast enough to make the spinner blade turn over in the current, and after 40 or 50 casts, George yelled "Hit him!"

The hooks were slammed home as I felt the strike, and nothing happened, so I pounded the rod tip back to set the hooks again. The huge steelhead rolled to the surface, his cheeks and gill covers glowing like evening campfire embers, and the fish started swimming upstream, his dorsal fin creasing the surface like a shark. He didn't move fast but seem possessed with tremendous power.

I moved along the bank but stayed downstream from the fish. The trick was to make the giant steelhead fight the rod pressure and the river current. We duked it out in the soggy rain for 10 minutes before the fish swapped ends and headed downstream into a deep hole. I was reeling while running but still the fish tangled the line in underwater brush and quickly broke me off.

"How big," I asked George. He'd caught steelhead to almost 20 pounds, and he guessed this ponderous male was at least 25 pound, perhaps more.

Big steelhead were more common back then and there were fewer anglers.

Wow, you say. That's what I said, and of the thousands of steelhead I've caught before and since, it remains the largest one I've hooked or seen.

My point with this anecdote is that incident occurred back in the days of very few steelhead fishermen and lots of big fish. The Little Manistee River at that time had a huge run of spawning steelhead that averaged, according to the DNR, between 11 and 12 pounds. A 15-pounder wasn't anything special, and it took a 17- or 18-pounder to raise any eyebrows.

That same year, also on the Little Manistee River, I found a 30-yard stretch of gravel that was wall-to-wall fish. The river bottom was honeycombed with spawning redds, and 15 or 20 feet away would be another redd, and every one held a female and one to four males. We fished only for the male fish because a hooked hen would take all the boys with her.

On that day I set a record of sorts. I hooked 30 steelhead in eight hours, and am proud to announce that I made a professional release on every fish. If you're unfamiliar with the term, a professional release means I lost every fish, one way or another.

There were far more steelhead in those days than now. There are far more fishermen today than back then. It's easy to do the basic math; fewer fish are being caught by more fishermen.

Brother George casts a fly to a steelhead.

There are still some rather exciting days if anglers can find a spot where fishing pressure is minimal. Two years ago me and another man hooked 30 steelhead in a morning. We landed about half of them, and released each and every one. Those days seldom occur these days.

Low Lake Michigan water levels in the past haven't helped. The Betsie River mouth has been so low in recent years that very few fish made it upstream. Rivers like the Manistee below Tippy Dam can be good at times, but the fishing pressure is just too heavy to suit me. I can take two or three hours of fishing in a crowd, and then get turned off by the whole thing.

That doesn't mean that you should, but it's easy for me to remember way back when to those special days where a steelhead fisherman would consider himself unlucky to see two other anglers all day. And, back in the day, people didn't crowd you or wade down through a spawning bed.

They had some class and good manners. The fish were larger and more plentiful back then, and the rivers weren't swarming with anglers. It was a different era, and the steelhead fishing now remains fairly good, but remembering what it was like 40-45 years ago is enough to make a grown man cry.

Personally, it's my thought that we'll probably never see the likes of those days again but remembering them is still a thrill for an old goat like me.

Posted via email from Dave Richey Outdoors

Steelhead fishing has been my addictive passion for more than 55 years. Give me four or five days of snow-melt temperatures, and a forecast of two or more days of rain, and there's only one thought that goes through my head at this time of year.

It's time to think strongly about hitting the river. One might ask where. Pick any stream, but those larger rivers with a dam and a constant stream flow, may be the best of all. Some good bets this week and over the weekend could be on rivers such as the AuSable, Betsie, Boardman, Manistee, Muskegon and St. Joseph. Many anglers concentrate their efforts in those river stretches just below the dam.

Why? Easy answer. Any steelhead that entered the rivers last fall or earlier this winter have been in the river for varying lengths of time. A run-off caused by melting snow and rain will move downstream, and fish that are holding out in the lake waiting for the water to warm. A temperature rise of only a few degrees will send fish migrating upstream before their spring spawn.

My strategy would be to fish close to the dam. That's where many of the fish will eventually be, and it can be a wise decision. Or start at the dam and begin fishing the holes and runs and an angler works downstream. There is still a good bit of snow in the woods, which can make gaining access to good spots more difficult. It's also a good reason to start fishing near the day because the  angler traffic has made it a bit easier to get around.

Learn to see spawning male steelhead.

Make no mistake about it. The river water is still cold, and fish can be lethargic and slow to move to bait, fliesm plugs or spinners. The trick is to cove every inch of holding water from as many possible position as wading conditions will allow. Anglers must be aware of the possibility of shelf ice extending out from shore, and use caution when wading. Any appreciable run-off can raise the water level, and each spring holes and runs change as sand or other timber debris moves downstream. I've seen holes change completely during a heavy spring run-off.

One key piece of fishing advice is to fish deep, and allow bait, flies or lures to bounce downstream with the current. Make several casts from one location, and then move downstream a few steps and go through the same routine again. Work the holding water thoroughly, and if you aren't getting hung up on bottom debris occasionally, you are not fishing properly. Your offering must be bouncing downstream along the bottom, and at the same speed as the current.

When it comes to bait, spawnbags are the eternal favorite of most anglers. However, keep this in mind: when the water is extremely cold (33-35 degrees) was worms or wigglers occasionally out-produce the tradition spawnbag. Two major fishing methods work for bait, and can be equally successful.

Many fishermen prefer rolling the bait along bottom. Cast across the river and allow the bait to sink to bottom. Splitshot is preferred, and use just enough weight to allow it to bounce downstream. Use too much weight about a foot above the baited hook, and the bait remains in one place. Keep adjusting the weight until you achieve the proper drift. Too little weight will mean a faster drift but the bait will up off bottom, and drifting over the fish's head. Spring steelhead rarely move up in the water column to take bait.

Bobber fishing or rolling spawnbags along bottom?

The second way to effectively fish bait is to estimate the depth of the water being fished, and attach a bobber (float) above the baited hook. Use just enough weight about 10-12 inches above the hook so it causes the bobber to stand upright in the water. Cast as outlined above, and watch the bobber as it drifts downstream. If you are unfamiliar with the river, keep adjusting the bottom. If the bobber lays on its side and doesn't move, slide the bobber down toward  the hook. It can take several adjustments to make the drift carry the bait along and just off bottom.

Years ago, many of us use small leadhead jigs and we'd bait them with a wax worm or wiggler. We used small jigs weighing  1/16 or even 1/32-ounce, and the brightly colored jigs, when combined with bait, seemed to make your offering more appealing to fish.The key to success, with or without a tiny jig, is to use just enough weight to make the bobber stand upright in the water. Watch the bobber at all times, and if it goes down just a little bit, it could have picked up a leaf or twig or a fish could be mouthing the bait. The best indication of a strike is the swift disappearance as the bobber is sucked under the surface. Lift the rod tip with a bit of force, and set the hook.

Late winter streams often feature very clear water. Long 10-12-foot rods work well, and my favorite is four-pound monofilament. If the river rises suddenly with heavy run-off, bait anglers should consider using six or even eight-pound line. Sometimes a fish will clean you (take all the line on your spool), and just keep going. Again, trial, error and experience can be the best teacher on how heavy line can be used. Bait fishing is finesse fishing, and more fish are hooked on light line than heavy line.

Catching fresh-run steelhead on a fly is fun!

Heavier line can be used when fishing with plugs or spinners. Most spring steelhead strikes when using hardware are sure and hard. There's no mistaking a strike, and some fish slam the lure so hard that it can produce a sore wrist. The key thing when pitching plugs, spinners or spoons, is to stay alert. Even though the strike can be a wrist wrenching affair, if you are daydreaming and don't set the hook promptly, the fish can get away.

Great lures for this type of fishing would include plugs like the FlatFish, Tadpolly or Hotshot. I favor the Mepps Aglia spinner for smaller waters if I'm going to use this type of gear, and a No. 2, 3 or 4 Mepps Aglia spinner (without the bucktail) is a favorite.

Back me into a corner, and demand to know my favorite steelhead fishing method, and I'd readily say fly fishing. There's something magical about catch a mint-silver hen or a red-cheeked buck steelie on a fly. Sight fishing works well for those anglers who have enough brains to stay out of the water until the spot a fish. The best action takes place during the spawning period, and when fly fishing to bedded fish, re,e,ber that it's most important to fish for only the male fish. Often a soon-to-spawn steelhead may have three, four or five males line up behind her, and the pecking order places the biggest and most aggressive male closest to the hen.

Fly-fishing for steelhead is the best fun of all.

Watch the fish long enough to spot the silvery hen rolling up on her side. The male moves in close, and together the release a cloud of eggs and milt. The males usually are darker than the female, and they move around more as they chase other smaller fish away. Pick a fish, and fish directly to it. I spent 10 years guiding steelhead fishermen from 1967 through 1976, and pioneered fly fishing on Michigan's tributary streams for browns, salmon and steelhead. Many of the methods my twin brother George and I devised are still in use today.

One steelhead caught on a fly is just about as much fun as a person can have while wearing waders. Watch the weather, and fish at every opportunity. This warm-up has come early, and I've seen years when the run has ended by April 1. The only way to avoid disappoint is to fish as often as possible. Follow some of these tips, and this may be the year you'll hit the run just right. Good luck!

Posted via email from Dave Richey Outdoors

Anyone who has bow hunted more than once knows the importance of sitting quiet and still. Knowing that, and practicing it while hunting, are two entirely different things.

I seldom hunt with another person, but in the past when my kids and grandkids were young, they would go out with me. Most adults can't sit still, and even fewer children can do so.

One of my grandchildren was fidgeting when I whispered to him to sit still. He whispered back that he was sitting still.

Your idea and my idea of being motionless and quiet may not jibe. It's taken years to master the art of silent sitting. I've taken more black bears than I have fingers and toes, and have learned some of the tricks to sitting as still as a stone for long periods of time. Doing so can lead to success.

"The first bear I shot," another savvy hunter said, "was on Sept. 10, opening day of the Upper Peninsula bear season. This was well over 30 years ago, and tree stand hunting wasn't legal. I sat alongside but downwind of an active bear trail with my back against a big cedar root-wad on a warm day.

This black bear was only 10 yards away when I took this photo. He never knew I  was nearby.

"Sometime later, I awoke from dozing and cracked one eye to see a black bear walking past at eight feet. The animal walked past, and a smooth draw and an clean bow shot took that bruin behind the front shoulder. It ran only 25 yards and dropped."

The bear didn't go far, and the hunter said he was absolutely motionless when the bear walked by because he was asleep. He admits that was an accident, but he's since learned to sit without movement or sound.

Over many years of hunting bears and deer, I've found one trick to being still is to be comfortable, and a hunter must learn how to relax and be at ease with himself and his surroundings if he hopes to be motionless and quiet. The first step is to remove anything that can cause discomfort while sitting. My primary problem is it's necessary to remove my wallet from my back pocket. If it is left in, my sitting time is 30 minutes or less before my hip hurts. No one can sit still if their butt is painfully sore.

Sit on the ground, and a root an inch under the dirt will put a crease in one butt cheek, and you'll start moving to get comfortable. I make certain if I'm in a tree stand that no branch stub is digging into my ribs or spine. A stone in the dirt under you butt will feel like a boulder after 30 minutes.

One big secret to sitting still is to be comfortable.

Check out each spot wherever you hunt. Remove offending branches or broken branch stubs. Many tree stands have uncomfortable seats because the seat is too low, and your knees are up under your chin and that makes for an uncomfortable seat. Just as bad or worse is a seat that is too high, and you have to sit on the edge of the seat to keep your feet steady on the platform. This cuts off blood flow to your legs, and your toes and feet go to sleep, which leads to more movement.

Learn to get physically comfortable first, and then learn to relax your body and mind. A man told me once that he meditates while in a stand, and although his eyes may be closed and his heartbeat and respiration slows down, he can hear the rustle of bear hair against bracken ferns or the faint twig snap of a wandering buck. One day, while following his example, I sat still all day within 20 feet of a bear bait, and nine different bears came to visit but none knew I was there.

This isn't recommended for someone unaccustomed to meditation. What works for most of us is to free our brain of all thought, to feel comfortable and relaxed, and to will yourself to be motionless. I've had bucks approach to within several feet of me without seeing any movement, and that is part of the secret. Keep your mind uncluttered by unnecessary details, and it's much easier to remain still.

One trick of mine is to fix my attention on a distant object, and stare at it. It will blur, come back into focus, and blur again. Stick with it, and don't think of deer or work or anything else, and try to become one with your surroundings. Get comfortable and relaxed, and don't feel like an intruder. Relax and become one with nature.

That works for me and some other people I know, but it may not work for you without a great deal of concentrated practice. The first and foremost thing is to be comfortable. Once the human body is comfortable, start working on the mind.

Sitting motionless and quiet is nothing but mind over matter. Start practicing now and you'll be ready for a nice spring gobbler or a buck this fall.

Soon, with continuous practice, it will be possible to sit motionless for 30 minutes. Then start working on being motionless for an hour. If you can get up to two or three hours, many of your hunting problems will be solved.

Learn to expect sudden noises, such as a red squirrel chattering or running through the leaves. Don't be started when a bear or deer steps through dry leaves. Be alert but motionless and still. Sooner or later whatever made the noise will step into view. Never turn to look behind you.

The old Negro League and big league pitcher, Satchell Paige, had it right when he once said: "Never look back. Something may be gaining on you." That thought should be considered by hunters.

If you are not moving, you won't be making noise (unless you snore). Without movement or noise, the only thing you must worry about is being winded. Stay downwind of where bear or deer travel, and you will have removed most of the key things that spook animals.

Turkey season opens in a bit more than a month, and movement or any sound (except a turkey call) will spook birds. Their vision is like you or me looking through 10-power binoculars. I wear a camo mask that covers  my face, ears and glasses, and wear brown glove on my hands. The trick to shooting a gobble-bird is to be ready for a shot when he steps within range. If you sit with the shotgun across your lap, and try to raise and aim at a bird, all you'll probably see will be tailfeathers rapidly getting further away.

Practice now, long before turkey or bow season opens, to sit still and motionless in a non-hunting environment. If you can pull that off for two hours, and you follow the other common-sense hunting rules, there won't be a bear, deer or gobbler that will be safe around you.

Sitting still and not moving any part of your body except your eyes is simply a case of mind over matter. Humans do have a brain, and once they condition it to silent inactivity, their hunting skills will increase.

Posted via email from Dave Richey Outdoors

It was a simple question. A man asked a few days ago if i was a great turkey caller.

The answer was a resounding "no." Great callers are guys such as Greg Abbas, Chris Boesel, Paul Butski, Bob Garner, David Hale, Rob Keck, Dick Kerby, Harold Knight, Arnie Minka, Will Primos, Carl Salling, and a host of others. I'm not a great turkey caller, and must fight hard to make even a passable yelp on my diaphragm call.

However, after many successful years of turkey calling and hunting, I am OK. I can call most birds I encounter. I considered the question put to my by the young man, and it's obvious he's looking for some help. I can't help him much by telling him how to blow a better yelp with a mouth call.

I didn't have much time to talk with him that day but will see him again this week. In the meantime, I can teach him a few tricks about calling and hunting turkeys.

There are two basic things to remember about turkey calling: Don't call too often and don't call too loud. Let's take a look at these aspects of calling.

Gobblers like those fanned out are to call when with hens.

Someone who toodles too often on a turkey call usually winds up spooking birds. They tend to call too often and too loud, and occasionally at the wrong time, thereby spooking gobblers that may be coming to the call. They also may blow a "clinker," a sound that is not natural to a turkey's limited vocabulary. That can send a bird scurrying into the next county … but not always.

Hunters are wise to limit their calling in most cases. As a general rule, let a gobbler do most of the talking. Call just enough to keep him interested. A bird that calls but keeps getting farther and farther away, is not going to come at that time. After the gobblers and hens separate about 10-11 a.m., the talkative gobbler may return to where he heard a hen call. Patience is one of the best friends a hunter has. Sitting still for three or four hours can be a painful exercise but gobblers often return to where they heard an early-morning hen.

My young friend is trying to learn how to run a diaphragm call, perhaps the second-most difficult call to learn. The hardest call to run is a wingbone yelper. I've met a few guys that could play Dixie on a wingbone call but those that can make great turkey music are few and far between.

The easiest call to operate is the push-pull call. Push on a plunger, and it moves the lid over a wedge-shaped piece of wood, and it produces a realistic turkey call providing it isn't used too much. The next two calls — a box call and an aluminum, glass or slate call — are far easier to work. Done properly, they can produce great sounds that imitate an amorous hen turkey.

Learn to use all forms of turkey calls (right).

Everything, within reason, about using a turkey call, is a matter of cadence. There is a certain flow or rhythm to turkey calls, and those calls are difficult to make with a diaphragm call  without a great deal of experience and practice, and knowing what each call is supposed to sound like. Go out as soon as the snow melts, take along a foam cushion to sit on, leave your calls home, and just listen to wild birds calling. Go home, or out in your car with the windows up so you don't drive your wife nuts, and practice. A few people pick up on the sounds they should make quickly, but for most people, it may take two or three years of constant  practice before they can run a good yelp.

The box and slate calls are far easier to use. Box calls can be held horizontally, as I prefer, or vertically as many southern hunters prefer. It makes no difference how you hold the call. What is important is how you bring the handle or lid of the call across the top of the sound chamber. Play with this a little bit to get a good feel for it.

Some years ago, and a few months before my twin brother died in 2003, I was guiding a man and my brother wanted to hunt as well. I didn't want to take out two people at once so in the predawn darkness, I helped George set up a jake and hen decoy in front  of one of my hunting blinds. I gave him a one-minute course on making a yelp. I bid him good luck, and the other guy and I went off to where we were going to hunt. I worked a big gobbler for an hour that morning but the bird wouldn't complete the circle and come out in front of us.

We eventually gave up on that bird when he finally walked off after spitting and drumming for 20 minutes behind us. There was something a bit off about my set-up, and I knew  I could take that bird on another day. We drove to where George was hunting, and there were two gobblers in front of him. I shut down the car without spooking the birds, and watched through binocuars as he shot the largest gobbler. He was geeked to think he'd called in not one but two gobblers on his first hunt.

George shot that bird, and both men wanted breakfast so we headed for town to eat. My brother headed home with his prize, but I managed to snag back my prized call that I'd let him use. The man I was guiding shot his gobbler about an hour later.

Four different box calls that I use (left).

One thing I didn't tell the man who had questioned me about turkey calling was that on any given day a gobbler will respond to only one call. A hunter may start out with what normally works, and the birds pay no attention to it. Learning just one technique or calling can be rather limiting. When next I see him, I'll try to coax him into learning three methods: box call, slate call and diaphragm call, and in that order.

The box call user can become reasonably proficient in an hour or two. The yelp should be the one call used most often, and for many hunters  it's the one that draws in the most gobblers. A whine or purr is easy on a box and slate call but difficult on a diaphragm call. He told me he is trying to perfect his fly-down cackle call, and I asked why. Soften up and shorten up on a yelp, and you've got a close approximation to that call. The trick is to learn the yelp, and how to make a soft and semi-loud call.

Timing is important, and I prefer to put gobblers to bed at sundown. That way I  know about where they will be in the morning, and can sneak in fairly close (100-125 yards) of the roost tree. Know your terrain, and don't try to call birds across water. It can be done, and I've done it a couple of times, but birds often hang up at water. Call to birds you know are on your side of the waterway.

Gobblers often sound off from the trees about the same time as the little tweety birds and larger crows begin mouthing off. Let the gobbler call two or three times in an attempt to determine where all the nearby hens are. Then give a soft three-to-five-note yelp, and hush up. The bird will usually pause and then answer, as will other gobblers in the area, and after he calls a couple of time, give the same soft call again. Keep it soft. Turkeys have amazing hearing and eye sight.
Some old turkey calls from 35 years ago (right).
Once the gobbler starts coming, call only if the bird seems to have stopped or lost his direction. This is not the time to over-call or call too loud. If you have decoys out, keep the jake or gobbler decoy closest to you, because gobblers usually head for the jake to kick his tail feathers although sometimes they single out the hen to jump on.

Have your shotgun up and across your knees with butt of the shotgun stock against your shoulder. The bird may try to circle or may head right for the decoys. Wait until his head comes up to look around, and shoot once, shoot straight and don't miss. Don't shoot at birds over 40 yards away/ Sure, with today's high powered shotguns, it's possible to kill the occasional bird at 60 yards but there too much margin for error.

Calling turkeys is easy, and since no two turkeys sound alike, the notes of your call may be off just a bit. Get the cadence right, stay hid with good camouflage, and don't move. The gobblers often come running, and this, my friends, is what turkey hunting is all about.

It's not just about shooting a big longbeard. It is about calling that heavily bearded limb-walker to the gun. That is what endears wild gobblers to those camo-clad hunters who get up long before dawn to hunt them. It's really all about calling the bird, and the excitement is breathtaking as a bird moves closer. It's what causes sane men and women to forsake a warm bed in favor of sitting with their back against a big tree. Hardly anything in hunting can beat calling a big bird within shotgun range.

Posted via email from Dave Richey Outdoors