Most turkey hunting takes place on private land. However, in response to the popularity of Kansas' Fall Walk-In Hunting Area program, a spring version for turkey hunters is now in effect. As the program leases private land for public use, access doesn't cost the hunter anything in addition to the expense of acquiring a valid Kansas hunting license and a turkey permit or tag. Most of the tracts enrolled lie in the eastern third of Kansas. Individual maps of each county are available via an atlas from regional or park offices of the KDWP, or online at www.kdwp.state.ks.us.

Most hunters contend that eastern turkeys are a bit tougher to kill than are Rio Grandes; I've hunted the former in the Sunflower State, and I'm inclined to agree with that assessment. Much of the difficulty, I believe, stems from in the habitat they occupy. Dense stands of timber typically don't afford the long-distance visual security offered by the terrain that Rio Grandes prefer. As a result, easterns are prone to be more cautious.

A Rio Grande gobbler, on the other hand, tends to gobble more, making it easier for a hunter to keep track of the bird's location and direction. Rios will gobble at almost any loud noise: owls, herons, ducks, car doors, and so forth. I once used the telltale braying sounds of several donkeys in a nearby pasture as the perfect locator call: Every time one of the donkeys would sound off, the gobblers would hammer back in response. I was able to sneak into perfect position and kill a nice tom.

As far as tactics for killing one species or the other in Kansas go, they don't differ much. Apart from preferences in the terrain in which they're found, and other distinctions already noted, both species exhibit the same general tendencies, for the most part, and both will fall for the usual tricks. My 2005 spring turkey season was the perfect example of this.

Both eastern and Merriam's birds exhibit the same general tendencies, for the most part, and both will fall for the usual tricks.

I decided to open the season at a spot west of my Newton home; I'd killed several nice toms there, and my now-12-year-old daughter killed her first bird in the area a couple of years ago. Situated on the Arkansas River, it provides the perfect blend of roosting, loafing and feeding areas, and it was generally a good bet to produce close encounters of the longbeard kind.

Although I'd opened a couple of decades' worth of turkey seasons, I was excited as I'd been on the first one when I walked toward a known roost that morning. I propped the decoys, a hen and a jake, on their stakes and blended into the underbrush. It wasn't long before birds were hammering from the roost. I called softly on my slate; the birds answered. Content to know they knew I was there, I just kicked back and waited for fly-down.