THE FIRST MORNING
It was slow going at first. With a 3 a.m. wake-up, none of us were overly willing to get out of bed. But after a quick cup of coffee, we set out to the hills, armed with our shotguns and Jay with his camera. As we walked through the rolling landscape, our guide, a seasoned hunter named Bob, gave us some tips and tricks on spotting the elusive turkeys and how to prepare for a shot. For three first-time turkey hunters, we needed all the help we could get.
Our group hiked for a few short minutes until we finally came to a clearing. We settled in along the tree line and waited, scanning the woods for any sign of movement and listening closely. “First thing in the morning, you’ll hear the turkeys before you see them,” Bob explained.
The morning was quiet, except for the sound of a light breeze. We waited a bit longer but still heard nothing. Time to move spots. We kept our ears open as we ascended the canyon walls, but the birds refused to cooperate. The coffee had worn off and we were finally warming up in the morning sun, so the three of us nodded off until Bob mentioned heading back for some breakfast.
After a bit of food and some downtime, we were feeling refreshed and ready for an evening of hunting. “We usually get 90% of the birds in the morning and 10% in the evening,” Bob warned, keeping our expectations in check. But as the sun dipped lower in the sky, we started to hear some distant gobbles. My heart raced as I realized that we might have a chance after all.
We spread out, hoping to cut off the gobblers as they made their way back to their roosts. After a few hours of sitting and calling, it dawned on me that we might be in over our heads. The turkeys wouldn’t cooperate, so we packed up to head back and grab dinner.
DAY TWO
The morning of our second day started out even slower. We were sore and tired from the previous day, to a point that coffee couldn’t even fix. Thankfully, we still had some residual excitement left to keep us moving. The birds had been much more active, but refused to approach within shooting range. The end of day two found us empty-handed again. According to Bob, it was unnatural that neither of us had taken a bird yet. Everyone was feeling the pressure and we wanted to maximize our chances in whatever way possible. Jay was there to shoot photos, but he had a tag and a gun ready just in case. We talked with our guide and decided that we’d split up in the morning. I’d go with Bob, while Nick and Jay would hunt with Gene, another guide on site. We were down to our last day of the hunt.
DAY THREE
Bob and I went back to the same area as the previous morning, hoping to get another crack at any of the numerous birds we heard the day before. We sat apart, letting out the occasional call to a vocal group of birds in the drainage below. For some reason, they refused to move out of their location. Two shots suddenly rang out in the distance as I sat shivering on the ground. “Was that them” I wondered?
*bzzz bzzz* I heard Bob’s phone go off behind me, but I couldn’t hear what was being said. Shortly after, he approached. “Let’s go. We’re gonna see if we can make a move on this bird,” Bob claimed. We quietly hustled down the hillside, making sure to stick along the trees. Bob motioned for me to set up in a stand of small pines as he got into position. Everything happened in a flash. All it took was a couple quick yelps on his pot call to entice a group of turkeys up the draw. The big tom in the group beelined straight toward us. As the turkey came within range, I kept my shotgun raised and took aim. It was an intense moment, and I felt a mix of excitement and nervousness as I squeezed the trigger. The shot rang out, and the bird tumbled to the ground.
After tagging the bird, Bob and I met back up with the other guys. They each got a turkey. We let out a collective cheer as we high-fived each other. For Jay’s first hunt ever, we were thrilled to see that he got the biggest, most mature tom. It was a moment of pure adrenaline and joy, knowing that we had succeeded in our mission. We took some photos in the morning light and thanked Bob and Gene for their guidance and expertise. As we packed up and headed back to camp, we were all exhausted but elated. We each took some time to process the turkeys, making sure to save all the meat we could. The legs were headed to the smoker and the breasts went in the freezer.
We learned firsthand that spring turkey hunting can be an incredibly challenging but rewarding experience for first-time hunters. With the right gear, guidance, and patience, anyone can learn the art of calling and bagging a turkey. And who knows, it might just be the start of a lifelong passion for hunting and the great outdoors.
