It was a rough start to the season. For two straight mornings, the bird I was after would gobble like mad on the limb, then fly down, zip his lip, and head in the opposite direction. And for two straight mornings, once he left, I headed back to the truck in search of a willing tom.

Each time I left, I’d drive to the elbow of a dead-end road to turn around. And on both of those mornings, as I rounded the corner, at the very end of the road, there would be a flock of turkeys—three toms fanned out with a few hens mixed in.

The problem was location. The birds stayed at the end of the road where the left side was a wildlife preserve, straight ahead was private land, and the right side was public—except it was so thick that a bird would need to be within ten yards to get a shot.

After striking out the rest of the morning, I headed home frustrated. There were literally birds right next to public land, and I couldn’t kill them. Unsure of a solution, I opened the DNR hunting regulations. I knew there was a rule about how far you had to be from the center of a road to shoot. Hoping for a legal option, I figured I might be able to set up at the minimum distance and call a bird off the road into the thick poplar stand.

I found the rule on the DNR website. It stated:

It is illegal to hunt within 50 feet of the roadway’s center.
It is illegal to discharge a firearm, airgun, bow, or crossbow from or across a highway, or within 50 feet of the roadway’s center.
These prohibitions apply to all public roads.

Note: Certain exceptions are allowed for Class A and Class B shoot-from-vehicle disabled permit holders, and for hunting small game or turkeys from dirt or gravel roads with shotguns loaded with fine shot.

I read that last part over and over. Exceptions for turkeys on gravel roads with shotguns? Did this really mean I could shoot a turkey on a gravel road?

I called the DNR. When I got connected with a representative, I explained the situation and read the rule.

Him: “Do you have a disabled permit, son?”
Me: “No.”
Him: “Well then you can’t shoot a turkey on the ro—wait a second… It sounds like you could legally shoot a turkey on a gravel road. Let me give you the DNR warden’s number to verify.”

I called the warden and restated the situation. He responded immediately.

“Yes, you can legally shoot a turkey on a gravel road with a shotgun. You could even be standing on the road. Gravel roads are considered public land. As long as where you’re standing is legal, and where the turkey is standing is legal, you’re good.”

A new game plan formed instantly. I figured I could set up along the tree line on the right side of the road, and when a tom walked down it, I could drop him right there.

My gravel road, foggy morning tom. This photo was taken seconds after the 2nd tom came in during my photo shoot.

The next morning, I woke earlier than usual, knowing I had some extra walking to do. I planned to park at the elbow of the dead-end road and walk a quarter mile to the end so my truck would be far enough away to avoid any distractions.

When I pulled out of the garage, it was foggy—not just foggy, but thick enough that visibility was under 50 yards. After a slow drive to the public land, I parked at the elbow and walked to the end of the road.

The tree line on the public side sat about five feet higher than the road, and the young poplar growth offered no back cover. Luckily, there was a well-placed stump right in front of the tree line that concealed me well. It wasn’t as close to the end of the road as I would have preferred, but it was the best option.

I loaded my .410 and waited for the morning to begin. A few minutes later, the first gobble broke the silence. Then another—and many more. Two toms were at the very end of the road, with a third slightly to the right.

I made a few tree yelps with my homemade mouth call, then went silent. I hoped the lack of calling, combined with the fog, would pique his curiosity.

A few minutes later, the sound of flapping wings pulled my attention toward the road as I peered into the dense fog. Time dragged. Then, through the haze, I made out a dark figure, followed by another. As they moved closer, I saw a long beard swinging side to side, followed by a bird with no beard.

Even with a hen behind him, the tom was more interested in the phantom hen hidden in the foggy morning. As he walked down the center of the road, he paused. With little cover and unsure if the jig was up, I decided this might be my only chance.

With the bird slightly to my right, I slowly swung the gun, settled the red dot on his neck, and squeezed the trigger. He dropped without a flop.

The hen stood there. And stood there some more. I waved my hand. I stood up. I walked down the incline and through the ditch. Only then did she high-tail it to the next county.

I grabbed the bird by the feet, and only then did he start flopping. The noise triggered a shock gobble from the other two toms, and I realized they were well within 100 yards. Not wanting to spook them and ruin the spot, I fumbled with my gun, gear, and bird as I tried to leave unnoticed.

I jogged down the road until I was about 100 yards away, then stopped to take a few photos to remember the hunt. I placed the bird on the ground and tried to rig a makeshift camera stand with my turkey vest.

In the middle of the struggle, I looked up.

A dark shadow was coming down the road—fast. One of the remaining toms had continued his search for the mystery hen. He closed the distance as I knelt over my bird in the middle of the road.

At 40 yards, he stopped. He stood there for a good 30 seconds before realizing something wasn’t right.

Unfortunately, I only had one tag with me that day.

That crazy hunt might have never happened. If I had simply assumed that shooting turkeys on a road was illegal, I would have kept chasing the stubborn tom that left every time he flew down.

My message is simple: learn the rules. They exist for safe and ethical hunts, but there may be a detail—or loophole—you’ve overlooked. I’m glad I took the time to learn this one and confirm it was correct. Because of that, this hunt is one of the most memorable I’ve ever had.

Not many people can say they called in a tom with a homemade mouth call, and dropped him in the middle of a road with a .410.

Note: This regulation was valid in my state. Your state’s regulations may not allow a similar situation.

Study the Regulations & Leverage Them

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