This spring marks my 32nd spring gobbler season. Although that may sound like many years to most, it seems like only yesterday my brother and I were walking in the woods at daylight full of wonder about a bird and how best to hunt him.
Back then, there were not many turkey hunters in my circle of friends and family. I had a friend whose uncle was a dedicated turkey hunter — meaning that was all he would hunt. This made him unlike others who chose to hunt mainly for deer and the occasional squirrel hunt or rabbit hunt.
The problem with my friend’s uncle was he was tight-lipped about turkeys and how best to pursue them. In fact, although I have no real way of proving this, I believe he wanted all the turkeys in West Virginia to be only hunted by him. He was that serious about his craft and what he learned about hunting the bird.
My brother had a friend, on the other hand, who was a fall turkey hunter and was a very good caller. The difference is that he enjoyed talking about the bird and the tactics he used to be successful throughout the years. He even invited my brother to go along on a fall turkey hunt to show him the ropes.
That was all it took — my brother and I ate, drank and slept all things turkey from that day on.
When we first started hunting them in the spring, we were clueless. We understood the exercise of getting up in the dark, climbing the highest ridge possible, and hoping and wishing that a turkey would gobble at sunrise. If he gobbled, especially as a direct result of our calling, we counted that day as victorious.
Other than that, we knew we had to learn to sit still and that was as deep as our knowledge base went on the subject.
Looking back, I am not sure I would have changed a thing. I understand now if you are interested in hunting the wild turkey there are resources galore — in fact, most you can pull up on your phone. But back then, you learned by making mistakes that were and are still painful to recall.
And like with most things in life, you learn the best lessons by making mistakes and promising yourself that you will never make those mistakes again.
Because we messed up so many encounters with Tom Turkey, we got good at accepting defeat from the famed game bird. Losing the battle was simply part of it. But when we were successful, wow, the taste of victory was even more super sweet.
After a few years of acting like we knew what we were doing and, even more importantly, thinking we knew what the turkeys were doing, we expanded our season’s efforts to include taking others and introducing them to the sport. Still to this day, my brother and I hunt more with others and for others than we hunt by ourselves.
We have also learned the most valuable lesson any tenured, seasoned turkey hunter can master — it’s OK to walk out of the woods empty-handed. In fact, part of the thrill is just how challenging the bird can be.
With today’s instant access to information, let’s take social media for example, it can appear that harvesting a turkey 10 minutes after daybreak on opening day is the new norm. If that was the case, many of us would not hold the art of turkey hunting in such high regard and possibly not even give the respect to the bird that he deserves.
My good friend and fellow turkey hunter, David Draper, just penned in his Letter from the Editor column in Petersen’s Hunting magazine, “It’s OK if the Bird Wins.” I couldn’t agree more.
That simple statement is truer today to me than it was 32 years ago. I can’t help but cheering for the bird that has given so much to me over the last three decades, and I hope and wish he continues to do so for others for many generations to come.
