Can you believe spring gobbler is upon us once again? It seems to take forever for trout season to finally roll around and break winter’s deadlock, then the rest of April seems to fly by and turkey season’s here before you know it.

If you’re a normal person — not obsessive-compulsive or addicted — I envy you. You enjoy hunting gobblers and if you bag a bird, fine, if not, you just sleep in when you’re tired without tormenting yourself if a longbeard doesn’t show up.

It’s no surprise few spring turkey hunters make it through the entire season without missing multiple mornings of hunting. Only those as pathologically addicted as my sleep-deprived, redeyed friends and I go out every dawn.

Spring gobbler can become an exquisite type of torture created by those never-ending 4 o’clock mornings. The first week isn’t too bad; you’re still excited, probably have a few birds located, the adrenalin’s pumping. But, if things don’t go according to plan — and they seldom do — getting up becomes a tremendous effort of will, especially if you have to rush back to the house and get to work by 8.

Then, the days start getting very, very long.

Of course, since there is opposition in all things, one inevitably finds himself at odds with the poor wife, who starts getting a little testy about the early rise ruining her own sleep! Attempting to explain that “you” are the real victim seldom generates the sympathy you believe should be forthcoming.

In fact, you may hear about a lot of things you really didn’t care to know; none particularly flattering!

But, the turkeys would be disappointed if they were not shown as the real rock stars of this article, after all, they are the elusive and exasperating center of this exhausting quest.

A big gobbler is a maddening blend of acute sight, perfect hearing, fantastic instincts and flashes almost of brilliance. These first-rate survival skills are aided and enhanced by a fidgety bunch of girlfriends, hens, which complement the gobbler’s survival skills, creating an almost unbeatable combination.

In turkey hunting talk, when one hunter says to the other that the bird he’s after is “henned up,” everyone sighs. Those sharp-eyed hens will keep watch for him, leading him away from any hint of real or perceived danger. Calling a “henned up” gobbler is futile the great majority of the time; his jealous ladies will lead him directly away from you.

That longbeard will gobble his head off in the roost, gathering his little harem, then fly down among them, never gobble again and follow his ladies.

Oh, well, another 4 a.m. wakeup wasted!

Some toms unexpectedly sneak in on you without gobbling. These satellite birds can’t beat the area’s boss gobbler in a fight, but they’re not averse to sneaking in on a cute hen and stealing off with her. They show up when the big bird is gobbling from one spot and not moving. Knowing the coast is clear they may attempt a little piracy!

Of course, you have no idea they’re coming until they see something suspicious, putt and run. Then you can berate yourself for not paying more attention or break down and cry when one gobbles from the exact area you just left 10 minutes ago.

Smarter gobblers sit in the tree until they see their hens. If no hens show up they may sit there until noon. Give me a break! Is my calling totally without any seductive qualities at all?

Setting up on a gobbler is a task laden with pitfalls and potential mistakes. You rush to find a good spot when a bird unexpectedly answers very close to you, can’t find the right large tree to sit against, can see too far or not far enough. You’re also unaware of an old road or trail the turkeys like to use or that there’s an opening just ahead they like to strut in.

A thousand other potential disasters lie in wait. Finally, the longbeard sneaks in, but you screw up for one reason or another. Now you can exquisitely torment yourself, thinking of all you should have done, could have done or “if only that had happened!”

It will haunt you for the rest of the season. But, that’s the glamor of hunting gobblers, you simply never know what is going to happen and the thrill of interacting with these magnificent birds is addicting, though so often painful.

If you have let preparations slide until the last minute you may wish to consider the following. Is the shotgun cleaned and do you have the right brand of ammunition? Is the correct choke screwed in the end of the barrel, the full or ultra-full turkey choke that is, not the improved cylinder you shot skeet or sporting clays with last trip to the club?

Can you find your turkey calls? Do you have chalk for the box call and are your mouth calls still usable or has the latex glued itself together? Does your camo coat have the hunting license on it, a pen for the tag and a small zip tie to attach the tag to the leg in case a small miracle transpires?

Is it possible to locate your seat cushion, camo mask and gloves? Lastly, does your alarm clock still function?

Good luck and good hunting.

Wade Robertson