Hunting the Ghost Gobbler

-By Brandon Wikman

The nice thing about turkey hunting is that the majority of us don’t have to make a mental beard measurement or guesstimate live body weight before squeezing the trigger. This isn’t whitetail hunting, where judging age and maturity is crucial. A gobbler is a gobbler and that’s that, right?

As much as I said that to myself, I couldn’t bare the truth. I held off pulling the trigger like a savvy buck hunter would, passing on gobblers as I would an immature 2-½ year old buck. I wanted to kill a certain turkey, a long-beard by the name of Ghost Gobbler.

I’ve put my time and efforts into hunting Ghost Gobbler for the past two years. His name reflects his illusive, and uncanny, abilities to make me look like a first time turkey hunter. You may question why I’m so certain it’s the same bird over the last couple years, considering turkeys look nearly identical. I will be more than happy to share his distinct background and bizarre personality.

Ghost Gobbler Facts:

1. I’ve never witnessed him strutting
2. I’ve never heard him gobble
3. Runs away if called to or decoyed
4. Runs out of the field if a car passes
5. Seen in the field for no more than 10 minutes throughout the day
6. Has no set pattern throughout the day
7. Has a thick beard I’d estimate at 11 inches

After nearly ten encounters with this unpredictable turkey, I have yet to fire a shot or even have him within 100 yards of my setup for that matter! I’ve learned that using decoys are as good as releasing a pack of hungry dogs after him. Calling is what you do if you want him walking the opposite direction from you. His uncharacteristic entrances and exits from of the field prove his smarts. His brief field visits are random; it could be eight in the morning or eight at night! There’s no telling.

The only way I’d be able to kill this bird is to sit along the edge of the field all day and not only hope that he shows, but be settled in the right spot. There’s only one problem, there isn’t a ‘right’ spot.

My Memorial weekend was spent hunting this un-killable bird. I spent the entire day of Saturday and Sunday in the field. I felt as if I were whitetail hunting during the rut! Pulling all-day sits, hoping a wandering creature would stroll by. Saturday I saw absolutely nothing. I didn’t see a single turkey, nor hear a gobble. It was quite the dampener for any confidence I had left in straining my mind another long day. Regardless, and against all odds, I sat all day Sunday. The only way to kill the bird was to put in long shifts and have your wish come true.

At approximately 1pm I spotted the Ghost Gobbler. He slinked his way out from a patch of tangled brush and into the field. My heart felt as if it were a pinball, bouncing around in my chest. Mr. Unpredictable stood no more than 80-yards away. He made his way across the field, pecking for bugs and grabbing a fast-food style lunch. The only chance I had was to hope he didn’t get too full before reaching the 40-yard mark!

As he took each step, history documented itself within my mind. He eased closer, his beard grew bigger, and his massive body inflated larger. You’d think I was in line with the next world record whitetail, in my mind I was! The Ghost Gobbler reached the 40-yard mark. I dropped all sense of nervousness, clicked the safety off and exploded a 3.5-inch shot shell into his vitals. I killed him.

The Ghost Gobbler had eluded me so many times. I think I may have had a small impact on making him one of the most intelligent birds on the face of the earth by the countless times I tried using regular turkey hunting style methods on him.

The bird sported an 11-½ inch beard, 1-½ inch spurs and weighed 25 pounds. He wasn’t the new world turkey record by any stretch of the imagination, but in my heart and eyes he was. A little luck, and relentless pursuit surely paid off.