Arcadia
Wildlife Sanctuary (Northampton
Audubon) - Normally I
write a trail description and tell
you about a particular place. But
I'm going to depart from my normal
trail descriptions because I have
to tell you a story about what
happened to me here a few years
ago. So, I'll just say quickly
that Arcadia Wildlife Sanctuary is
a great spot to capture some peace
and tranquility. Birds of all
types abound and there are nice
man-made perches and huts to view
them from. Arcadia has a nice
variety of terrain for a place
that's relatively small and all
the trails are flat and easily
managed. Part of it borders an
oxbow of the Connecticut River so
that probably explains the
abundant bird life since the oxbow
is a perfect habitat for the
amazing frequent fliers who
migrate through or take up
residence. In spite of what I'm
about to tell you, I highly
recommend it and if you haven't
been to Northampton, MA. that's
also a good reason to go since it
has small town charm mixed with a
touch of big city life. Arcadia is
five minutes from downtown. But
onto my story because in all my
years of hiking I've only had one
scary encounter with a wild animal
and it happened here. I wish I
could say it was a bear, mountain
lion, or rabid coyote, but I
can't...it was a...well...it was a
turkey.
If you ever go on a hike and are
attacked by a wild turkey...don't
ever tell anyone. They won't let
you live it down...ever. I know,
because this happened to me when I
hiked at Arcadia Wildlife
Sanctuary one cold, March day.
Most people laugh at me when I
tell the story but a few refuse to
believe me (even had one lady flat
out tell that there was no way I
could have been attacked by a
turkey..."that could never happen
because turkeys don't do that."...
said she was going to ask her
scientist friend if that were
possible). Like I'm going to lie
about getting attacked by a
turkey?! I should have lied and
said it was a bear.
Here's what happened (sense of
humor needed).
A few years back I lived in
Northampton and one wintery March
day I had cabin fever and needed
to get outside. I had seen the
signs for Arcadia but had never
stopped in so I decided that this
day would be a good one for
visiting. I knew with the cold
weather and icy conditions I'd
basically have the place to
myself, and so it was. The trails
were very slick in certain spots
because ice was still prevalent
from the dwindling winter snow
cover. But it was a nice day,
since it was quiet like only
winter can be quiet, and some
early spring birds were quite
active. I hiked the main trail
loop which isn't too long and
enjoyed my exploration. I was
heading back to the main parking
lot (about 500 yards back in
woods) when the silence was
interrupted by a bizarre sound.
You know how that can happen when
you're hiking alone...you
sometimes "hear" things that seem
otherworldly but always turn out
to be some mundane thing (falling
rock in the distance, tree snap,
etc.). This was a sound that made
me stop and look around. Just as I
was about to get spooked I heard
it again but then instantly
recognized the rapid fire "gobble,
gobble, gobble" of a turkey. Whew.
It took me a minute, but off to my
right I saw the turkey through the
trees and he was walking over
towards me. I said to myself,
"Cool! ...rarely see one so
close." Little did I know that I
was about to do battle with a
beast more fearsome than The
Predator that Schwartzenneggar
faced. This was no potential
Thanksgiving meal but a tom (a
male turkey) ready to defend his
turf or just in a really bad mood.
The sight of him was fascinating
at first. Wild turkeys are big and
they sort of look like dinosaurs.
People made fun of Ben Franklin
when he suggested that the turkey
become our national bird. I'm with
Ben. I'm 6'1" and this tom was up
to my waist and looked awfully
sure of himself. Usually they'd
never come close to people but
this guy was walking right up to
me. It seemed strange that a wild
turkey would do that, then I
deduced that he might be tamed and
used to people. "Ah, you're tamed
and looking for a handout. Sorry,
little fella', I don't have any
bread for you.", I said quietly,
peacefully... Well, my Sherlock
Holmes deduction that he was tame
was WAY off! I
was thinking that "Tom" and I were
having a nice, peaceful moment
together but my joy of having a
handsome wild turkey standing
right in front of me was savagely
taken away when Tom decided that
he was going to open up a can of
whoop ass on me. What prompted
this, I'll never know. After our
zen-like encounter was over I
looked into his eye as if to say
"Well, best be on my way, you see
later little fella'". I no sooner
finished that thought when Tom
smashed his beak into my crouch
with a thunderous blow. Thank
goodness for hard denim jeans and
long underwear or I'd be talking a
few octaves higher today!
"Whooaaa!!!" I shouted at him and
put my hand up as if he'd actually
understand the universal hand
signal for "stop". Until that
instant I had never given a turkey
a second thought. I always thought
they were kind of cool and mellow
creatures who kept to themselves.
I certainly never thought of them
as a potential threat in any way,
shape, or form. I quickly tried
step back because I thought he
might be threatened by me and
needed a sign that all was well.
But the section of trail was a
sheet of ice and I sort of did one
of those cartoon deals where my
feet spun in place until I gained
my balance again. I froze and
quietly uttered, "Uh-oh". I just
had a sense that Tom was not a fun
guy. He was looking like he could
use a good fight and he had me
right where he wanted me. He knew
it, and I knew it. This was about
to get ugly.
Tom and I then faced off Clint
Eastwood style for a few seconds
as I tried to figure something
out. I laughed out loud at the
upsurdity of being slightly
intimidated by a turkey. But I had
to be on my toes since I was more
than a little unnerved at the
thought of taking another blow
from Sid Vicious. The first one hurt.
"I'll just walk right past him and
nudge him if I have to.", I
strategized. Wrong. In the blink
of an eye Tom blasted me three
times in the stomach, hip, and
crotch. And these weren't little
bird pecks...these were
"OOUUUCCCH!!!! Am I bleeding?!"
poundings. I was now officially
scared as I realized I was in an
official fight that I wanted no
part of. The ice was foiling any
attempt to get away from him.
"Unbelievable", I thought. I'm
standing in the middle of the
woods, on a sheet of ice, nobody's
around, with no way out but
straight through wacko Tom.
Now, I respect all forms of life
in general. If a bee gets caught
inside my house I'll trap it in a
glass with a make-shift cover,
open the window, and let it free.
But Tom was scaring me and he
looked like he was just warming
up. So out went all that "I brake
for animals" crap and I went into
fightin' mode! (though I've never
really been in a fight unless you
count a couple grade school "Hey,
you cut in front of me!"
encounters). I'd like to think of
myself as a good athlete
(baseball, basketball, football,
skateboarding, mountain biking,
etc.) and was known for my lithe
coordination. I didn't want to
hurt him but if I had to get
physical and use my superior human
attributes to put him in his
place, I was ready. Before I could
act, Tom struck me hard in the
crouch and went for another strike
so I tried to blast him in the
head to frighten him but he ducked
out of the way with lighting
moves, evaded my hand, and blasted
me in the crouch...again! I tried
to kick him like a 50 yard field
goal but I just kicked air as Tom
ducked under my boot and I nearly
fell on my...the ice. "This is
ridiculous!! You're a freakin'
turkey!!!!!", I yelled out,
half-laughing, half-nervous, as if
Tom would hear my words and come
to his senses "Oh, yeah, I am a
turkey. What am I doing?!
Then all laughing stopped. This
had to end. The humor in finding
myself trapped by a turkey was
gone. I was worried he'd put a
serious hurtin' on me. I thought
about jumping him and grabbing him
by the neck and throwing him off
the trail. Then I quickly realized
what a ridiculous idea that was.
I'd probably wind up with a face
full of snow and leaves with Tom
on top of me with a clear shot at
my head. I took a couple of quick
steps into the woods to get off
the ice and onto the snowy leaves.
Tom blasted me in the ass as I did
this but that was okay because I
was in a better place...it was
just one of those things where you
knew it was going to hurt but you
took the pain to get it over with.
At some point I stepped on a stick
and immediately picked it up. I
was armed!! Yes! "Alright, you
little bugger (I used another
word, but children might be
reading this) I think this changes
things." It did alright, as Tom
got really pissed at the sight of
the stick and blasted me in the
stomach, crouch, and knee. I swung
wildly and with anger but Tom
darted back and forth and bobbed
up and down to avoid my strikes
and landed a stinging blow into my
gut, but I finally landed
back-to-back blows to his chest
and back. That got his attention.
"Oh, you don't like getting hit
either, huh? Kinda hurts, don't
it!? Now...I don't want to hurt
you so just go away!!", I said to
Tom. I could have sworn that Tom
grinned like only a bad guy can
grin.
Tom was sporting a look that said
"I'm the man." I had
tried the old "I'm bigger and
superior to you" Darwinian process
but Tom wasn't having it and was
looking for another round. So I
just bolted for the car. Screw all
that macho crap...I had met my
match and nobody was around to see
me run through the woods like a
piglet stalked by a jungle tiger!
I figured if I put on a burst of
high speed running for about 50
yards I'd dust this dirt ball. But
I was to find out later that
turkeys can run 30 miles-an-hour
and their reflexes are ten times
faster than ours (which explains
my inability to defend myself). I
only got about 10 yards and turned
around in time to see Tom gaining
on me like a dinosaur in Jurassic
Park. I whirled with my stick
raised. This protected me from
another strike as old Tommy Boy
wasn't so tough after all as I'm
sure he remembered the few ninja
blows I landed. But I knew that
this wacko wasn't going to leave
me alone so I literally had to
hike out of the woods backwards,
while holding a stick in order to
keep Tom at bay. Eventually I made
my way to the nature center and
main parking lot. This caused Tom
to drop back a few steps, but he
literally followed me all the way
to my car as if to say "get in
that car and get your sorry little
self atta' here." As I started the
car and turned on the heat, I
sighed a big relief. I was
actually joyous at being safe
inside my car from a turkey. "That
didn't just happen", I laughed. I
took one last look at Tom as he
strutted victoriously back into
the woods. "I'll be back!!", I
jokingly yelled out.
I did go back a number of times
through the years for a chance at
Hiker vs. Turkey Part II, but I
never saw him again nor has anyone
else because I asked a volunteer
at Arcadia if anyone had a
reported a similar incident. She
just gave me a "yeah, right"
response. All's I can say is,
thank goodness for cold weather
clothing, or the Vienna Boys Choir
might have its oldest member ever.
Even with all my winter clothing
on I still had a few welts the
next day. My story has brought on
bundles of laughs and hysterical
finger pointing. A few denied it
happened as it did because they
just can't believe a turkey could
do such a thing. Because I came
off as such a wimp in other
people's eyes and so many others
claimed they've never heard of
such a thing, I did a little
research on the Internet to ease
my mind. My research confirmed
that turkey attacks are nearly
unheard of but it seems as though
I'm not the only turkey survivor
out there! A postal worker in
Newtonville, MA refused to deliver
mail to a certain street because a
turkey attacked him with a
persistence that can only be
described as maniacal...and just
him...other postal workers didn't
have a problem with the
Newtownville Maniac. Then there's
the northern California senior
citizen community (Alfred Hithcock
wouldn't even be so mean as to
write a script like this). Seems
as though a group of young toms
wandered into a new part of town
and decided a game of "let's chase
old people around" would be fun.
Fortunately, the little juvenile
delinquents were rounded up and
taken far away.
Someone else has confessed to more
turkey hyjinx. I'm feeling more at
ease about my encounter. Jim
Porter (http://menotomyjournal.com
- nice resource for things going
on in his area) has a local
television show on Channel 8 in
Arlington, MA. He ventured out for
peaceful hike, but it didn't end
that way. He wrote: "I also
feel a kind of kinship to the
poor soul who wrastled with a
turkey. While hiking the Alander
Mountain Trail in the late
Spring of 2003 (which I actually
heard about at the time from
another website) - rather tired
because I was on my way down the
mountain - I heard a sudden
rustling in the trail beside me.
It seemed like a different
rustling from the sound of the
chipmunks that had accompanied
my walk all day long. I looked
down and I was surprised at what
I saw -- the biggest and ugliest
baby duck you could ever
imagine. Then I spotted another,
and then another still. I was
surrounded by these mutant
quackers. Out of nowhere I heard
this blood-curdling scream that
startled me out of my wits. I
turned around and standing right
behind me, wings outstretched,
looking mighty distressed,
pacing quickly back and forth,
was a mother turkey. It seems I
had unwittingly stumbled upon
her brood, and she was none too
pleased. The mother turkey
stopped, look me right in the
eye, and then darted straight
for my crotch. I yelped a kind
of little girl scream, and then
started running as fast as my
legs could take me. It occurred
to me that should I stand and
fight, not only might I create a
group of orphaned turkeys who
would never survive, but I'm
sure I'd be breaking some
serious wildlife laws and end up
in federal prison with my luck.
The mother turkey was in hot
pursuit. Man, those things are
fast! She pecked at my ass once,
then again, and I hopped and
yelped like a Girl Scout each
time she did. Finally, she
slowed down and let me go. I ran
all the way back to my car. I
had completely forgotten how
worn out I was.
"
Now, you shouldn't be afraid of
turkeys because of my story (or
Jim's either). It was an anomaly.
It was just one of those crazy
things. Perhaps I ate too much
turkey the previous Thanksgiving
or didn't give proper thanks for
the dark meat. Normally, turkeys
are afraid of people. Afterall,
hunters shoot thousands every year
(Hunters use special "calls" that
duplicate the sounds of a tom
during mating season which
attracts other toms who perceive
this as a threat and therefore
walk right into a hidden ambush.
It's not hard at all to sit behind
thick bushes dressed like Rambo
with a high powered rifle or bow
and shoot a turkey. Those aren't
real men like me. I went
toe-to-toe with a huge tom with my
bare hands!). It's rare to see a
turkey while hiking but I've seen
dozens of them throughout my life
as I've hiked deep into the woods
or across remote farmlands. All of
them have run away or stayed a
huge distance away from me. All of
them except one. I don't know what
the life span of a turkey is or if
Tom was lured into an ambush by
one of those cowardly hunters, but
it's possible that Tom is out
there somewhere. If you come
across a turkey that isn't acting
like a turkey...grab a big stick
and...RUN!!!!
Hiking at Arcadia was great in
spite of my wild encounter. I
think you'd really enjoy it. Nice
trails, serene forests, and some
great vantage points along the
Connecticut River oxbow. Perfect
place if you're into birdwatching.
I also learned a valuable lesson
there. Turkeys rule and that's all
there is too it. I know my place
and it's not as high as I thought
it was. Tom knows this too.
Nothing has intimidated and
humbled me like the great
one...Tom the Turkey. He was the
baddest dude I've ever met. And as
such, my respect for turkeys is
immense and mythical. I look upon
them with great respect like a
young ninja respects his sensei.
Doomo arigato gozaimasu, Tom
Turkey-san. Keith
The following directions were
taken of Arcadia's official
website Arcadia Wildlife Sanctuary
18 (Rt 5, Northampton). Take a
right onto Rt 5 south. After 1.4
miles, take a right onto East
Street at the sign for Easthampton
Center (Oxbow Sports is on the
corner). Follow East Street for
1.2 miles and turn right onto Fort
Hill Road at the Mass Audubon
sign. Go 0.9 miles and bear right
at the next Mass Audubon sign and
turn left into the sanctuary.
Click
here if you're interested in
getting a guided hike in this
region.
Print
out Arcadia page
If you have any trail updates to
share or have feedback/questions
please click
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203.788.7665
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