Turkey Scouting and Social Distancing

I step out from my apartment into the crisp morning air and climb into the Jeep for the first time since the governor issued the official “stay home” order for Washington on Monday. I’ve been cooped up in this building all week, I tell myself. I’ll still be away from other people and, hey, I deserve some fresh mountain air.

I’ve been self-isolating, along with pretty much the entire country, in an effort to slow the spread of COVID-19. The only thing that got me through the week was knowing I’d get to go up to some national forest and scout for turkeys today.

I feel a little bit like a rebellious teen sneaking out of their house late at night to go hang out with their crush, except it’s broad (and beautiful) daylight and my crush is Washington’s public lands.

The First Meadow

The drive up to Colville National Forest quickly reminds me just how hard and fast I’m falling for Washington. The mountains roll by, swept with seemingly never-ending trees. I feel almost as though I’ve been stranded in a desert for the last week and the trees are a cool pool of water I finally stumble upon. Their deep greens, distant blues, and scattered brownish purples pour color and life back into my parched soul.

My boyfriend and I have a sort of unspoken game when we take drives like this. The game involves pointing out any and all animals you see - bonus points if it’s a really cool animal like a bald eagle or a bunch of elk. I relish this game, but it hasn’t quite sunk in yet how cool it is to be able to see these creatures from my little speeding window.

Our mission today is turkeys. He’s got a couple spots in mind he wants to check out and set up some trail cameras. I’ll be joining him during turkey season this year (my first one!), so it only seemed right I helped lay down some of the groundwork.

By the time we roll up to our first spot, the Jeep is already caked in mud - my favorite look for the beast. I hop out, lace up my boots, and throw on my jacket, eager to see what prepping for a hunt is all about.

We hike up the hillside through some snow. We crunch across the top of most of it, but sometimes we take a step and sink down to our knees in the icy stuff. I don’t know if it’s the week of being stuck indoors, but for some reason I find this endlessly hilarious, I erupt in involuntary giggles every time it happens.

We make it up to the meadow Conor wanted to scope out. He does a quick burst of calls, but we hear nothing. We trek across the clearing to some trees on the other side. He says, “It’s still a little too snowy for them to be in here, but they’ll be down here in the next few weeks.” He wants to set up a trail cam on a tree at the back of the meadow where he thinks the turkeys will come from.

There is some deliberation on which tree or what angle is best, but I soon help him strap the camera to the most promising tree and we are on our way.

The Second Meadow

About 200 yards from our second spot the road is too snowy to venture forward with the Jeep, so we walk the rest of the way. On the walk we come across what looks to be some fresh turkey tracks in the snow. I get a little flutter in my stomach and I start to see what makes hunting so exciting, challenging, and interesting.

Conor gives another couple calls and this time we hear a loud gobble in response. He’s close. We continue our walk, occasionally calling out to our feathered friend. When he answers, it sounds like he’s walking parallel to us just a little further up the hill.

“He’s heading right toward where I wanna go, that’s good,” Conor grins.

In our second meadow, we spread apart and walk along the perimeter of the clearing looking for sign. He tells me that male turkey poop looks like a “J,” while the females’ looks like more of a spiral blob. I find it fascinating that you can tell the bird’s gender simply based off something like that. We see lots of J-shaped poop, making this meadow the perfect spot to set up another camera.

As a bonus, we also saw a big ol’ pile of elk sign along the far edge of the clearing. The idea of seeing an elk from the other side of the Jeep window made my heart skip a beat. My head was on a swivel, my eyes scanning everywhere they could in search of an elk. Sadly, seeing my first elk up close and personal will have to wait.

On our way back to the car, I catch a flicker of movement out of the corner of my eye on the hillside to the left of us. I point and hush-exclaim,”Look!”

There are four turkeys trotting away from us - hens. We stop and watch, nothing but the sound of the wind whispering its secret language through the pines surrounding us. And something clicks inside me.

I’ve always loved the outdoors. I enjoy nature and prefer exercise that provides me with some sunshine and fresh air. Learning how to fish took that love to another level, and I think hunting is going to do the same. Diving deeper into how these animals interact with their environment, and how we are connected to all of it, is an unexpected obsession I seem to have acquired lately.

Between my first turkey hunt and my first environmental book choice of the year, I am starting to scratch that itch for knowledge. I’m getting a sense of the wider world of hunting, and more importantly, the hunter’s role in issues like conservation, wildlife education, and land use.

Sounds like I have a lot to read about during my next week of self-isolation in my apartment.