My niece, who has never shown any interest in hunting, decided that she wanted to go turkey hunting, kill her own bird and fix it for the family Thanksgiving dinner. We hunted hard a couple of weeks ago during the first week of split season and got very close a couple of times but just couldn’t finish with a bird in hand. So when the second week of split opened she was still primed to go and off we went. My Dad, just couldn’t make it this trip but he was with us in spirit. I made the trip out to a “special spot” Friday evening to see if I couldn’t line a few birds out for her the next morning. After some calling and such (I decided to use only calls that I had made this trip so I had a box, trumpet, wingbone and pot call in tow) I finally located a mixed hen/youngins/gobbler flock feeding along a hillside above a property line creek in a fresh gasline project with lots of fresh seed. I figured that if I could get into them I could maybe take a bird, but mostly bust them up good and since it was late they might not group back up until the morning. Well, it partly worked. I did manage to get set up and call a few of them around my way and took a nice bird with 8” beard and just shy of ¾” spurs. And the birds busted good scattering all along the creek bluff. But it was just too early in the evening. A couple of those old hens sailed all the way down across the creek and onto property I don’t have permission for. Eventually, most all the birds ended up there. So…for the next morning plan B. We got on another property and slipped in close to a known roost site in the am darkness. The birds were close and between wakeup and flydown we got some great turkey talk. They were gobbling and carrying on good. But like turkeys they answered about everything I threw out there but when it was time to go they had another destination in mind because they drifted off. We jumped out to another spot and even before reaching the area I raised a couple birds on the hillside across the creek from us. We got set up and I started working on em a little bit. My niece was wired up like a Jack Russell on Redbull by this time so I had to settle her down. Told her this mite take a while if it worked at all. Patience. Patience. It took over an hour to finally break em off the hillside and commit to crossing the creek. I could see her tense up when she first saw those black birds coming down the hill. Topped by two snow white golfballs. 2 nice gobblers with beards a swinging. We were in a great little setup so she could move a bit, get the gun up and adjusted. After that we just tracked them until in shooting range in the creek bottom below us. A gave her the go ahead on a shot and she didn’t drop the ball. She picked her shot well and made it count. One of the birds dropped and flopped strate off. I will never forget the look on her face and the light in her eyes when she turned to look at me. She was thrilled! We raced down to the bird, high 5’s, knucks and hugs all around. It was good. Of course later the work started. She carried the bird out by herself and never fussed. All 19.0 lbs, 8 ¾” beard and 7/8”; 1” spurs of him. Since she wanted to cook up the whole bird, we proceeded with a hot water bath and plucking (which I rarely do anymore) on both birds. She stayed with it every step of the way.
So she got her Thanksgiving dinner bird, had her first real hunting experience and the excitement AND hard work it can bring. And I got some more quality time and memories for another great family adventure. Another great day in the fall woods. She is a great cook so now I am looking forward to the memories of an extra special Thanksgiving dinner!
HAPPY CAMPERS



TURKEY COUNTRY this country is really different than my home turf. Almost flat!


