Turkey hunting can be rewarding when things go in your favor and frustrating when they don’t. There are ample options for the latter case that fall under what might be called standard turkey hunting practices. When those don’t work but you’re not ready to yield the day, you have to think outside the box, or in the case of turkey hunting, outside the box call.

A classic example is the henned-up tom. He already has what he wants. Call all you want but he’s not coming unless he has a really good reason. Real turkeys tend to be a lot less vocal than those of us who pursue them, but occasionally you encounter the odd vociferous hen. Mimicking her is a good option under any circumstances but especially if she has a suitor. She might lead him away from a potential rival but is just as likely to come your way, and drag her companion along.

Sometimes Old Tom hangs up even when he’s alone. He’ll strut back and forth and gobble at your every call but won’t come a step closer. Fortunately you have several options. One is to give up and find a more willing participant.

Two others involve either getting closer or farther away. Occasionally, if you play hard to get and simulate a disinterested hen leaving the scene, calling as you go, Old Tom will break the standoff and follow. The other approach involves trying to get closer, into his comfort zone. You risk being seen; then it’s game over. If there’s enough cover, it might turn the tide in your favor.

Speaking of getting close, it also can work in other ways. The classic scenario involves finding a roosted bird at dusk, then slipping in close but not too close the next morning and calling it to you. It might come and it might not. If conditions like wind, rain or wet ground and sufficient cover allow, and you get there early enough, you might be able to slip in so close the bird is already in range when his feet hit the ground.

Quick thinking and ad-libbing can also turn the occasional tide. I was slipping through silent woods one morning when I spied a distant gobbler about the same time he saw me. It should have been over right there but instead of beating a hasty retreat, he froze. So did I, before very slowly sitting down in just enough cover to conceal myself.

At that point I had nothing to lose so I launched a volley of calls but the bird stood like a statue. Then I remembered the double push-pin call in my vest, which I used to perform a bout of fighting purrs. The tom’s head turned from pale red to bright red, white and blue; he puffed up into full strut and came directly toward me without hesitation.

We still lose more than we win because so many things can go wrong. Experience teaches us some tactics to tip the scales but when those don’t work, you can always try something radical. You have to break a few eggs to make an omelet.

Bob Humphrey is a freelance writer and Registered Maine Guide who lives in Pownal. He can be reached at: [email protected]