It felt good to be back in the mountains of southeastern Kentucky during the spring. As a boy, I grew up climbing these same mountains while toting a single-shot .410 shotgun and trying to keep up with my father on those cool October morning squirrel hunts.

Waiting for daylight, I sat patiently looking at the splendor of the mountains during the onset of fall when the leaves change to gold and crimson colors. My mind began to drift back to the memories composed of the sights, sounds and smells of the woods from numerous November mornings spent in a tree stand and waiting for a glimpse of a bruiser buck that was just over the next ridge.

Finally, winter is now giving way to spring and the mountains are undergoing a major metamorphosis. The woods are suddenly alive and light green buds have replaced the once barren gray limbs of the trees. Flowers and other green plants are sprouting up everywhere. Songbirds fill the warm spring air with a welcoming chorus. Suddenly, a loud, booming gobble echoes across the ridge and reminds me that the mountains are experiencing another dramatic change from my childhood days.

Back then, there was no gobbling in the spring, simply because there were no turkeys. Now, thanks to the efforts of the Kentucky Department of Fish and Wildlife Resources (KDFWR) and National Wild Turkey Federation (NWTF), everyone in the Bluegrass State can enjoy the adrenaline-inducing sound triggered by the gobble of the majestic Eastern longbeard. This addictive sound is what keeps me in the spring woods and forces me to call in sick to work on occasion during April.

In fact, don't tell my boss, but that is exactly what had happened on this particular hunt. The weather forecast was just too good and with one tag left to fill, I had no choice other than to take a sick day. Before I could tell my legs to move toward the longbeard, another thundering gobble filled the early morning air. Quickly, I flopped down in front of a white oak tree, which was wide enough to conceal my outline. I desperately tried to control my breathing before hitting the gobbler with a series of soft raspy yelps from my mouth call.

The longbeard forcefully interrupted my series of calling with a throaty, coarse gobble, which seemed to rattle and shake the ground. Next, I could hear the gobbler kicking and scratching through the dry leaves tormenting me with every step as he approached my position. As I waited for the longbeard to finally make an appearance, my mind was flooded with anticipation and my poor heart was racing at the pace of a marathon runner with the finish line in sight.

My shotgun was already pointing at the opening of an old logging road where I thought the gobbler would enter. Suddenly, out of the thick undergrowth, the longbeard marched into the opening in full strut with a rainbow-colored head that seemed to glisten in the early morning sun. I steadied my bead and gently squeezed the trigger, ending another sensational season in the mountains of southeastern Kentucky. Without question, the Bluegrass State offers some topnotch turkey-hunting opportunities. In fact, you would be hard-pressed to find any better turkey hunting than we currently have right out our back door.

SENSATIONAL SEASON
Kentucky turkey hunters once again experienced another phenomenal season last spring. According to the KDFWR, hunters were able to tag an impressive 25,517 birds last year alone. Just how good is the turkey hunting across the Commonwealth?