Here's the story about our little guy. "Little Bossman" was a name that he picked some where along the way.
It all started about 8 years ago when his mom and I........ WAIT A MINUTE...Lets skip to the good part.
To say Connor, and I had a good year would be an understatement. After an unsuccesfull MN fall hunt in horible weather, and a freak 2' snowstorm at our next destination of TX, we were able to find a place in Kansas to hunt. I had never hunted there, but our first trip to Kansas last winter yielded a few first for him. It was his first bird, his first Rio, his first Eastern, and he got to see his dad make a one in a million shot killing two birds with one shot with a bow. I can say I was proud of the little guy, and after he took his third bird I knew he was hooked. Over the next few months we set up a few more out of state hunts, and the challenge was set. Finishing his slam, and at the same time I'd try to finish up mine.
The next trip we had was a down to Florida to hunt Osceolas. Lots of road time, fast food, and rest stops. We even stopped at the Gateway Arch. Twice. Once we got there met the guys, saw the property, and got our stuff unloaded it started to rain. Luckily by morning the storm had moved on, and the birds were moving. Connor shot his about 20 minutes after sunrise, but as luck would have it three more Toms wanted to join the party from the other direction so he had to wait to collect his bird. After getting one of those three for myself, we went out to discover that the gobbler Connor shot was a double bearded bird ranking in the top 100 for Non typical Osceola. Pretty lucky for a six year old. After a miss with the bow the next morning we headed home.
Three down one to go. So off to Nebraska we went for the youth season. We saw some unbelievable stuff there. We watched a hen get bred within gun range, never seen it before, and probably never see it again. Connor had a few chances including a bird coming up the slope and peeking its head up at 4 yards, but we couldn’t seal the deal. I had a second trip planed for a buddy and I to go during regular season so we did some changing and back we went. Connor passed on a trio of Jake the first morning, yes he passed on the last bird of his slam because it was a Jake. The next day we did a little run and gun after not seeing anything in the blind. We walked all the way to the North line of the property, and finally got one to answer back, he almost at the south line. After crossing four ravines, kneeling behind some scrub cedars for 35 minutes we finally got him into range. Connor put the hammer down at 10 yards, and dropped what we later find out to be a Red Phased Merriam.
Thinking it was just an Eastern we kept hunting for the remainder of the week. We had a few chances, and finally at the last stop before heading home we got him on a Jake.
He was done with his Grand Slam, and I also managed to finished up mine. We put on about 7500 miles, over thirty days on the road, and to say the least it was worth ever minute.
What is in store for the future? The little sister is chomping at the bit wondering when she gets to go….
