The Great Turkey Hunter

I recently went turkey hunting for my first time. Our friend Clay was home from college and picked me up early in the morning while it was still dark out.

I was excited, but kind of nervous, too.

We headed north to where he thought would be a great spot to sit and call turkeys. When we arrived, he crow-called to see where they were at. We followed the sound of their gobbling reply, he got me set up and the decoys placed.

We could see turkeys roosting in the trees beyond where we sat. He started calling them. Sure enough, they made their ways down to investigate. There was a tom, a handful of jakes and a few hens in the group. I got really excited as the tom started strutting closer to get a better look. He didn’t venture too far though; he was afraid he’d miss an opportunity with those hens since the jakes were with them.

We sat a while longer, and they walked the opposite direction. We set out on foot to see if we could find them. We made our way through the draw, crossing water and climbing over fallen trees. I quickly realized I was likely more of a liability on this trip than Clay had potentially bargained for. I fell several times. In fact, I fell over one tree twice. I learned later that he pointed out that tree and my experience with it to some hunter friends the next day.

We were able to find those turkeys again, but they were still moving away from us, so we went back to the pickup. Clay felt badly that they didn’t come closer. I didn’t mind. I was enjoying myself.

We had to stop a while to put some of our calves back in a pasture. While there, we could hear gobbling close-by. When we were done, we drove a very short distance before seeing them on a neighbor’s land. Just before we stopped to look, I thought I’d spotted a turkey on the other side of the road. We backed up. I was right. We parked and snuck part way up the hill. There was a jake and a hen. Clay called some and the jake was definitely interested. The only way to get closer was to crawl on our stomachs up the hill when he wasn’t looking. Clay took his gear off and carried my gun for me since he’d already witnessed my lack of finesse at our first stopping point.

I prayed our hired men wouldn’t drive by while my backside was sticking up in the air.

We made it up the hill, camped out on our stomachs in the grass. Clay realized he left his call at the bottom of the hill.

“I have to use my mouth. This might sound stupid.”

His call was far from stupid. It was great. And the turkey bought it. He gobbled at us for a long time and slowly made his way closer.

Clay asked if my nerves were starting to mess with me yet.

They sure weren’t. Thirty seconds passed.

“They are now.”

He asked if I could feel the ground rumbling when the jake responded to us.

“All I can feel is my heart pounding out of my chest.”

As we watched and whispered back and forth, I began to relax again. The turkey kept moving in.

Clay said I could shoot any time, aiming where the neck meets the feathers.

Two and a half hours after leaving my house that morning, I lifted my gun, aimed and closed my eyes as I pulled the trigger. I don’t know exactly when I opened them again.

“You got him!”

He said I yelled back, “Yeah!” and quickly put my gun on the ground.

I jumped up watching my turkey, making sure he wasn’t going anywhere, then realized Clay was standing beside me holding my gun, waiting for me to give him a high five.

We gathered my trophy (which had two beards), took a few pictures and headed down to the shop to show Joe and the guys.

My husband was just giddy. I’m pretty sure even though he knew I probably could shoot a turkey, that I probably actually wouldn’t.

Everywhere we went, Clay or I told people what we’d been doing. Most everyone’s reactions were much like Joe’s. I received a lot of congratulations, typically accompanied by laughter. I didn’t care. I shot a turkey. In fact, this was my first time shooting any living thing.

We had friends coming to hunt that afternoon and headed to town to run some errands. While there, I asked Clay if we could stop by the courthouse.

I needed another tag.

He headed back to school that Sunday evening. Monday morning I ordered myself a slate call, crow call and a hen decoy.

I was going to take my husband hunting.