Ridge Runner: A Turkey Hunting Story for New Hunters

Written by: Ryan Reading, Fall Obsession Pro Staff

The first time I heard a turkey gobble in the spring woods, it stopped me in my tracks. I wasn’t even hunting—just out walking a ridge behind my uncle’s farm with an old pair of binoculars and a vague idea of what I was looking for. But that sound—sharp, guttural, echoing off the hills—lit a fire I haven’t been able to put out since.

That was the beginning. I had no mentor, no fancy gear, and no idea what I was doing. But I was curious. I started by walking logging roads and field edges at dawn, looking for signs—tracks in the mud, feathers in creek bottoms, scratchings beneath oak trees where turkeys had been feeding on leftover acorns. I read articles, watched videos, and asked questions at every bait shop and sporting goods store I could find.

It wasn’t long before I learned about “roosting” birds—getting out early or just before dark to listen for gobbles as turkeys settled into or woke up from their nighttime trees. I’d sit quietly at sunrise, thermos in hand, and let the woods wake up around me. Owls would hoot, crows would caw, and then, somewhere in the distance, that unmistakable gobble would ring out. It was like the woods were giving away their secrets—if you were quiet enough to hear them.

Scouting quickly became half the fun. I started keeping notes—where birds roosted, which direction they flew down, where they went afterward. If I saw turkeys strutting in a pasture at 8:00 a.m. on Tuesday, I’d be there watching again on Wednesday. The patterns were there, if you paid attention. I used trail cameras to confirm movement and dropped pins on my phone’s GPS to mark roost trees and travel corridors.

When my first real hunt came around, I didn’t even carry a decoy—just a call I’d been practicing with for weeks and a borrowed shotgun. I set up 150 yards from a known roost, gave a few soft yelps as the sun came up, and sat motionless against a tree. A tom gobbled in response, then another. My heart pounded. They never came in that morning, but I was hooked.

Over the years, I learned when to call and when to shut up. I learned that less is often more when it comes to vocalizing. I learned that if a gobbler hangs up out of range, it’s usually not because he’s smart—it’s because he’s waiting for the hen to come to him, like turkeys are wired to expect. And I learned that sometimes, making a wide loop and calling from a new angle can turn a hesitant bird into a committed one.

Now, when new hunters ask me how to get into turkey hunting, I tell them this: Start by listening. Get out there in the early mornings before the season opens. Bring binoculars, not a call. Watch from a distance. Look for sign. Keep notes. Scout like you’re preparing for a chess match, not a wrestling match. Because turkey hunting isn’t about overpowering your quarry—it’s about outsmarting it.

Get yourself a simple box call or a pot call and practice. You don’t need to sound perfect—you just need to sound real. Pick up a hen decoy if you can afford one, or borrow gear from someone local. Most turkey hunters I know are more than happy to help a newcomer, especially someone who’s putting in the time and effort to learn.

If you don’t have private land, don’t worry. Public land offers great opportunities if you're willing to work a little harder. Hike in farther than most would. Listen more than you call. Be respectful of other hunters. And if you mess up—and you will—use it as a lesson. Every blown setup teaches something that a successful hunt never could.

I’ve called in birds for kids, friends, and even a neighbor who never hunted before but got curious after hearing one of my early morning practice yelps echo off his barn. Every time someone takes their first bird, the grin is the same. Pride, respect, awe.

Because turkey hunting isn’t just about harvesting a bird—it’s about waking up with the world, understanding the land, and matching wits with a creature that’s been around since the dinosaurs.

So if you’re thinking about getting into it—do it. All you need is a willingness to learn, a bit of patience, and a good pair of boots. The turkeys will teach you the rest.

The moral of this story is for all the new turkey hunters who are getting started and wondering how to hunt turkey. Follow the laws, have fun and never worry about being judged. Listen and learn. One day, you may be the one teaching.