How to Hunt Public Land Turkeys in the Appalachian Mountains

In any turkey hunter’s pursuit, certain dates stand out. For me, the first—and perhaps most important—one came on May 10, 1988, my third year as a turkey hunter with still no birds tagged. As a schoolteacher, I had only two vacation days annually, and with the season nearing an end, I took half my vacation for the year and ventured into Virginia’s George Washington and Jefferson National Forests (GWJNF).

I had little understanding of how to kill a turkey and possessed only a rudimentary understanding of how to use a box call, and I couldn’t effectively operate any other type. I had been practicing a great deal with a diaphragm, but the sounds emitted were more akin to those of an ill goose. Around 7:30 that morning while I was meandering through the public land, a gobble rang out. Panic stricken, I sat down at the nearest tree and croaked out a cluck—the best rendition of that sound I had uttered to date. The tom, shockingly, gobbled again and ran straight to me. After I shot the bird I realized the whole affair had happened so quickly that I hadn’t had time to blow the opportunity.

Looking over my turkey hunting records, it’s amazing how many of my most memorable hunts took place on national forests in the eastern U.S. Indeed, the most heavily populated part of the country has an astounding number of public lands, especially national forests, running down the spine of the Appalachian Mountains from Maine to Georgia and encompassing 14 states.

For example, another unforgettable hunt took place on May 22, 1993, by which time I had tallied eight birds and was beginning to think this turkey hunting thing might work out after all. It was the last day of the season, and once again I was afield on the GWJNF. A friend, having tagged out, offered to take me to a spot where he had worked a longbeard the entire season, the old boy never bothering to come in. Miraculously, though, as my buddy made clucks on his slate and I chimed in with yelps on my mouth call, the tom exploded with gobbles and soon presented himself for an easy shot. The lesson I learned that day was the old saying about all public land gobblers being “hunted out” or pressured into silence late in the season wasn’t true.

I gleaned another lesson on an April 23, 2003, ramble in Tennessee’s Cherokee National Forest. After arriving in Jonesborough that evening and checking into my place of lodging, I went for a drive on a nearby rural road that featured small parcels of land bordering the public property. My goal was not to hunt those small private domains, but to gain permission to walk across one or two so I could access the Cherokee.

After several nonproductive stops, an elderly gentleman granted me permission to stroll across his 5-acre woodlot to enter the Cherokee. Around 10 o’clock that morning, I was walking back through the man’s yard with a tom slung over my back. The lesson here is that although most folks you ask won’t let you hunt their spreads, quite a few of those same people will permit you to cross their properties to reach public land. I’ve successfully gained access to national forest land in Virginia and West Virginia by employing this same tactic.

Then there was the hunt on May 5, 2004, in the West Virginia portion of the GWJNF. On the previous Saturday, I had encountered a gobbler that boasted a considerable harem. I knew, however, that it wouldn’t be much longer before his female companions would desert him.

It’s 46 miles from my Virginia home to the Mountain State portion of the national forest, and from my house to the school where I teach is not quite 7 1/2 miles. I calculated that fly-down time would be about 6:30 a.m. and that I would have approximately 30 minutes to hunt before I would have to leave for school.

I likely need not worry about any turkey hunter questioning the rationality of my plan for that morning, though others may wonder about the sanity of arising at 4 a.m., driving on winding country roads in the dark and walking up a mountain in the inky stillness of a highland morning—all for a half-hour hunt. At 6:15 I uttered some tree yelps and 15 minutes later performed the fly-down cackle. The gobbler roared at both sounds, and the two of us were back at my truck by 6:50. My wife was considerably perturbed to find an un-plucked gobbler residing in our refrigerator when she arrived home from work that afternoon, but yes, I was on time for my first-period class. What this hunt proved doesn’t apply to just public land: you can’t kill a gobbler if you don’t go hunting.

FINDING THE BIRDS

The Appalachians offer millions of acres of public land for turkey hunters, but of course turkeys aren’t found just anywhere. Smart hunters will do some homework to narrow their focus. Mike Dye, upland game bird biologist with the Virginia Department of Wildlife Resou

rces, has some tips on finding areas that harbor Appalachian longbeards.

“One of the most important things to do is study aerial photos and look for places where forest disturbance has occurred,” he says. “Places where there are openings and mowed fields, and where timber harvests and prescribed burns have happened, are certainly good places to start. Also look for places where there’s young herbaceous growth near mature timber and perhaps some older pines for roosting.”

In short, Dye notes, the more diverse the habitat, the more likely turkeys will be present. He also recommends looking for agricultural activity adjacent to public land, which can attract turkeys.

“Generally, I think the presence of quality habitat is often more important than trying to find places where other turkey hunters aren’t going to,” he says. “Although there are certainly exceptions to this statement, there’s so much public land in the East that it’s easier to escape from other hunters than many people think. And it’s certainly easier than it was 30 years ago when there were more hunters than there are today.”

An important caveat for those interested in hunting the spine of the Appalachians is that many areas are exceedingly steep highlands. Dye encourages hunters to study topo maps of the places they plan to hunt and be prepared for up-and-down hikes.

I also tap another source for information before driving to an area by contacting the local tourism agency. I ask about places to stay and dine as well as local sporting goods stores that might be able to give current hunting details.

SOUND STRATEGIES

Larry Proffitt of Elizabethton, Tenn., is one of the best turkey callers I know. He has hunted turkeys in most of the Appalachian states and has solid advice for luring in public land longbeards.

“You can’t be as aggressive a caller as you can on private land,” he says. “I once saw a Cherokee National Forest gobbler on its way to where a friend and I were set up. When the guy started yelping at the bird, it turned around and left.

“Turkeys, no matter where they live, make soft clucks and purrs all day,” he notes. “Those are the type of sounds you should generally restrict yourself to in the mountains. Forget about making loud yelps, and definitely don’t do any cutting.”

Proffitt says that once he has determined turkeys are in an area, he looks for a downed tree in the general area and makes a ground blind within the boughs of that tree. If no such tree exists, the Volunteer State sportsman will construct a “hide,” as he calls it, out of branches, various debris and perhaps some camo cloth stretched between two pieces of wood. (Check state regulations on hunting from a blind made of branches in spring turkey season. In Pennsylvania, for example, blinds must be manufactured of manmade materials.)

“If you know turkeys are in the area,” Proffitt says, “the less you move around on public land, the better. I can sit in one spot all day if I know turkeys are nearby.”

ROAM THE RIDGES

Not every turkey hunter enjoys sitting for long periods and waiting for the birds to work through a given area. Some would rather be mobile, and this approach can pay off, too. Although many areas are steep, hunters can use the Appalachian topography to their advantage. Quaker Boy’s Ernie Calandrelli often hunts the spine and puts the terrain to work for him.

“There’s this belief among mountain hunters that you can’t call a gobbler downhill,” the New York State turkey pro says, “and that the birds are much easier to call up a mountain. I don’t know why, but in this case the conventional wisdom is correct. Very rarely have I ever convinced a gobbler to come down to me.”

Calandrelli moves along a mountain ridgetop and sends calls down the slope. He keeps moving until he gets a response.

“A few times, I’ve had a gobbler on a ridge opposite of mine fly over and land just below me,” he says. “But most of the time, if you get a gobbler to answer from an opposite ridge, you’ll have to run down your ridge and up the next one to get in position to kill that bird. When you’re running up that ridge, make sure you get on at least the same level as the tom.”

To provoke a gobbler into voicing his whereabouts, Calandrelli no longer employs crow or owl locator calls, feeling they are often overused—especially on public land. Instead, he uses the Quaker Boy Alpha Male Coyote Howler, which he says really “strikes a nerve” with gobblers.

My experiences while hunting the spine bear this out. I’ve often heard hunters rambling down a national forest road stop their trucks, blast out a barred owl call then roar off again. I also recall an April hunt with Proffitt when we heard someone in the Cherokee National Forest repeatedly hooting like an owl—around 1 o’clock in the afternoon. No turkey answered, of course, but at 1:17, my records show, Larry called in a longbeard for me by using soft clucks and purrs. The 3-year-old flaunted 1-inch spurs and a 9 1/2-inch beard.

Gobblers don’t usually come easy along the Appalachian spine (save for maybe my first, which I chalk up to beginner’s luck). However, the challenges of chasing the birds that live here will make for many memorable spring seasons. There is a lifetime of turkey hunting to be had in these mountains, and they’re open to any gobbler fanatic up for a climb.

Appalachian Destinations

• These eight areas encompass millions of acres of public land open to turkey hunters.

GEORGE WASHINGTON AND JEFFERSON NATIONAL FORESTS

Together, these two adjacent national forests include more than 1.8 million acres in Virginia, West Virginia and Kentucky. In Virginia’s northern reaches, Fredericksburg makes a good base for hunting operations, as does Harrisonburg farther south. In the lower reaches, Roanoke and Abingdon lie close to the forests. On the West Virginia side of the Appalachians, towns that make good bases are Franklin in Pendleton County, Moorefield in Hardy County and Romney in Hampshire County. “There’s so much public land in the GWJNF that it’s easier than many hunters might think to get away from the crowds,” says Mike Dye, Virginia Department of Wildlife Resources biologist.

CHEROKEE NATIONAL FOREST AND PISGAH NATIONAL FOREST

The Cherokee and Pisgah national forests span the Tennessee and North Carolina border. Hunters can pursue turkeys in both states and forests in one trip. Those who want to try this two-state game plan can use Elizabethton in Carter County, Tenn., or Banner Elk, a resort town in Avery County, N.C., as a base.

“Both Tennessee and North Carolina offer all day hunting, and both the Cherokee and Pisgah have the same type of mountainous habitat,” says Tennessee hunter Larry Proffitt. “Though they have different names, they’re basically the same national forest.”

MONONGAHELA NATIONAL FOREST

Mike Peters, turkey biologist with the West Virginia Division of Natural Resources, says his state’s public hunting grounds are “way underutilized.” That makes the state’s largest public land, the Monongahela National Forest and its 920,000-plus acres, a prime destination.

“There are four district offices, and the main office is in Elkins,” says Peters. “Call one to get some basic information, and ask questions concerning wh

at habitat improvement projects have taken place in recent years.”

Several other factors are worth considering as well. In these highlands, snow may still be on the ground in April, and hunters could even see it falling. Another aspect to ponder is the elevation. There’s a reason West Virginia’s nickname is the Mountain State.

PENNSYLVANIA WILDLIFE MANAGEMENT UNIT 2F

Call maker Roger Parks of Mifflintown, Pa., says some of his home state’s best public lands for turkeys are located in Wildlife Management Unit 2F in the northwestern region. The area features mostly mixed hardwoods and conifers.

“It has some rugged mountains, but if you are willing to walk, you should be able to get away from people and find some birds,” Parks says. “Pennsylvania has a pile of good public lands, such as the Allegheny National Forest, in the northwestern part of the state.”

Forest County lies in the heart of 2F, and the town of Tionesta makes a good base. Along with the Allegheny National Forest, there are also several state game lands and state forests in the area.

FINGER LAKES NATIONAL FOREST

According to New York Department of Environmental Conservation Public Participation Specialist Kendra Ormerod, the Finger Lakes National Forest and its 16,000 acres receive a moderate amount of hunting pressure. An enticing fact is that both the National Wild Turkey Federation and Ruffed Grouse Society have conducted habitat improvement projects there.

“Our higher elevation public lands often have fall and winter snowfalls that cover hard mast such as acorns and beech,” says Chris Kirby, Quaker Boy president, who regularly hunts New York. “That mast often remains covered until the spring thaw, and so it really draws turkeys when the season begins.”

GREEN MOUNTAIN NATIONAL FOREST

Josh Morris, public information officer for the Vermont Fish & Wildlife Department, raves about the turkey hunting in his state. He suggests that hunters zero in on the southern half of the Green Mountain National Forest. A number of state WMAs, like Otter Creek, border the national forest and are worth checking out, too. The towns of Arlington, Brandon, Manchester and Rutland all make good bases.

“We have really good public hunting for turkeys, and the state as a whole has a really strong population,” Morris says. “While a lot of states are seeing a decline in turkey numbers, that’s not true here.”

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