Zero to Hero on the Gobbler: First EVER Turkey Hunt Arizona 2025

  In March, I got an email from a veterans hunting group I'm a member of, letting me know that a turkey tag had been donated and was up for grabs. I was lucky enough to be on a road trip and up early that morning to start the day's driving, so at about 0430, I sent my reply: I'd love to hunt turkey in Arizona GMU 1. After a few days, they emailed me back, letting me know I had been lucky enough to get the tag. Now, the work started. I had not hunted the area ever before. Also, I had never hunted turkey before. This was not a good start so I set myself to the task. 

Distribution of turkey in Arizona according to AZGFD

First, I learned everything I could about turkey behavior, habits, and habitat from the library. Ya, they still have those, and they are incredible treasure troves of information for those not intimidated by having to search the old-fashioned way rather than being fed information from blogs and hunting influencers through paid-for advertising on search engines. Also, turkey hunting has been in America since the beginning. I'm not talking bout the pilgrims; I'm talking about the real beginning when both turkeys and people began coevolving on the North American landscape. So, there is no shortage of good information that an amateur turkey biologist can digest and analyze to see trends over time. Or learn just plain cool facts, like did you know that Chiricahua, as in Chiricahua National Monument, is named after the ancient Opata word for "Mountain of the Wild Turkey"? Anyway, If you don't have a library card, shame on you. Get that fixed before your next hunt.

Chiricahua Mountains

    I was born and raised in Arizona, and other than about a decade of military service in the early 2000's, I have always lived here and my family has been here since about 1948. Growing up, the men in my family were avid deer, elk, and javelina hunters but I never heard even so much as a second-hand campfire story from those same guys when it came to turkey. Despite my personal knowledge gap, Arizona actually has a very rich history of turkey hunting predating Columbus' contact in the New World. Modern Arizona turkey hunting dates back to 1913 when the State Legislature voted to classify the fowl as a big game animal with an annual harvest of three birds. In 1929 the state continued the month-long fall season but reduced the bag limit to two birds. Following the post-WWII hunting boom, the limit was reduced to one bird and in 1950, turkey was added to the list of species hunters would have to enter the draw for. As a result of conservation and management efforts, tags are available for both Merriam's and Gould's pretty much statewide. The Rio Grande subspecies was also introduced in 2008, but at the time of writing, there are no tags available.

Gould's turkey photographed during the turkey survey event cohosted by the National Wild Turkey Federation, Gould's Chapter, and the Fort Huachuca Armed Forces Initiative Chapter of Backcountry Hunters and Anglers   

In addition to loving the library, I'm a member of a few groups in my town and got word from the Backcountry Hunters and Anglers Armed Forces Initiative Rep for Arizona, Leland Hart, that the National Wild Turkey Federation would host a turkey survey and education clinic in about a week. Attending in-person events has gone out of style with the millennial hunter, but the experiences and social connections created by attendance are invaluable. At this event, NWTF Gould's chapter members were available to teach calling, talk tactics, and give advice on areas from all over the state. The weekend was spent calling and counting the shimmering Arizona Gould's Turkey all through the Huachuca Mountain and Canelo Hills. This event helped build my confidence in calling and gave me a picture of what makes good-looking turkey spots. While the Goulds and Merriam's are different subspecies, they have much in common, and most attendees had hunted both. At this event, I got a tip on a location that would end up being my favorite hunting spot in the state, not only for turkey.  

Basecamp and Chef Noah

Thursday, Noah and I set out for our camping spot. We arrived at about noon, set up camp and got to glassing. We saw tons of game including elk, pronghorn, and as the sun was going down two incredible toms watering at the bottom of this beautiful canyon. We were in the right place! The next morning, I set up at the spot where I had seen the toms and began my wait. I made a few calls and glassed around the flats, but nothing seemed to be happening, so I returned to camp. With it being opening morning, and I had never hunted the area, Noah and I decided that the morning would be a good time to see the terrain in the early hours. The plan was to scout around again until lunch and then return to that canyon for an evening sit. About an hour and a half later, as we were coming around the curve discussing how the afternoon might look, we both looked up to see the grass about 80 yards away COVERED in turkey. That's when the adrenaline hit; I started my stalk, and my tunnel vision began to close in. Then I noticed that they didn't seem as relaxed as a flock should be while feeding. They were agitated, something seemed off... 

Two hung up Merriam toms.
Photo credit: National Wild Turkey Foundation

They were on the run! I thought I had them, but they noticed me at about the same time I had picked which tom to try to get into range. I saw the outside of the flock rush, and then slowly, the rest of the black jeweled beasts walk and then almost run-glide into the stand of trees. I saw the hill they were going over and knew I might be able to make it to the back of it before they did. We kicked it into gear, and Noah (my youngest son) was beside me, heading to the back of the hill. In haste, I decided to round the high ground early, nervous I had lost my shot at the elusive Arizona mountain Merriam's Turkey. As I crested the hill, I saw the back half of the flock running perpendicular to me about sixty yards out. Like a tackler trying to close the distance with a running back, I began to run-walk what I thought was the most efficient route to intercept the last couple of toms. It worked!

I saw three and clucked my diaphragm call. One stopped and turned. I noted the beard and fired. WHAM, the Remmington 12 guage O/U barked, but I barely heard it, an affliction common to the over-focused hunter high on adrenaline. The turkey drops and gives two flaps of his wings before I know he's done. I walk over and tag the majestic bird. As my head starts to look over the hill, I make eye contact with Noah, who anxiously looks at the top of the rise, not knowing what to expect. About the time my midsection clears the hill, my boy hoots and throws a fist in the air. We did it!      

The author and his turkey