Re: A cautionary tale

Perhaps surprisingly, turkey toms can inflict some pain using their wings as well! Long ago, I helped investigate a then-nearly-unknown population of Peregrines breeding in the extremely “cliffy” Sierra Madre Oriental in northeastern Mexico (headed up by Grainger Hunt, then of the Chihuahuan Desert Research Institute). We were based in a rented 1-room adobe in a small town. The neighbors had a big tom turkey that would often display at, and attack, us as we sat outside. Given the opportunity, he would not only jump up and lash out with his spurs, but would also slash forward with his bent wings. When he made contact with his bony “wrists” (all those reduced finger bones crammed together), it hurt pretty good. Fun times!

Re: A cautionary tale

I’m so sorry for your misadventure, Tom. Your cautionary tale is valuable to me. I’ve photographed the Dry Creek Cemetery flock of wild turkeys several times. Once, after shooting upright for 10 minutes, I laid down on the ground for a more dramatic view. I spoke quietly to the turkeys as they slowly came up to inspect me. When they got about six feet away, though, I started to wonder if I’d made a poor choice, if turkey aggression was going to find me in a pickle. I slowly got up and they slowly wandered off. I have a longer lens now and going forward, won’t attempt to get up close and personal with the big fowl.

Kevin Merrell
Garden City

A cautionary tale

The other day, I finished my ride without having encountered any Wild Turkeys. So, when I heard there was a flock on Harrison Boulevard, I walked over. I hung around for a while, but then the Tom started working his way over to me. I started backing away, but
apparently not fast enough. The bird got closer and closer, and let out some classic turkey calls. The rest of the flock started moving from the front yard, where they had been hanging out for some time, while the Tom kept moving towards me. 
As I backed up, someone behind me spoke, and I started to turn when the Tom jumped up and attacked me with his clawed feet. I got my hands up quickly enough that he didn’t get my face, but he punctured both of my hands. I kept backing away, while waving my
gloves at him, but he didn’t give up on his shepherding me until I backed down the alley, going south, while the flock was moving north. In hindsight the injuries were minor, but the experience was quite scary. I guess I thought he would only strut and not
attack.
I’ve attached a photo I took shortly before he went into attack mode.
Tom McCabe, Boise

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