Turkey Hunting with Dad

Vegetarians, look away now. Others, I thought I would share with you about my second season of turkey hunting. “Why don’t you just go to the grocery store?” you may ask. Because, my friends, it’s about the experience.

When I was growing up, my dad and grandfathers and extended family members and practically everyone hunted deer. While I talked about taking hunter’s safety class, I never got around to it. I love to eat venison, but the thought of killing a deer . . . well, let’s just say that I always had other things to do.

Then, a few years ago, my dad started hunting turkeys. I have no idea why, but killing a turkey doesn’t feel nearly as bad as killing a deer. So in 2009 I applied for an apprentice license (in Michigan you can hunt without a hunter’s safety class for two seasons as long as you are with someone with a regular license. Dad and I went “up in the hills” and he called in this beautiful turkey, which I harvested:

It was a beaut, but unfortunately it was a few years before I got around to taking hunter’s safety and getting  license of my own. Spring is super busy for me work wise. This year, though, I was going to be home for a couple of weekends of turkey hunting. Last Sunday I woke up at 4 AM to meet my Dad to head out to the property. DH felt the need to wonder aloud about why I was able to get up at 4 AM to go hunting with my Dad but not to go to 5:30 AM spin class. I told him because I love my Dad 🙂

We got to the property a bit later than we had hoped, as the sun was already starting to rise. We hiked in to the blind quietly, listening to the birds waking up and the turkeys gobbling in the distance. “Do you hear the pterodactyls?” Dad whispered. I smiled and nodded. They certainly sounded like pterodactyls, but I am pretty sure they are not. We set up in the blind and as the sun rose fully he started the calls. I am in awe that he is able to communicate with the turkeys. I told him that he was going to take the first shot when one came in, because if I happened to miss I would feel awful. Sure enough, a beautiful tom came in.

Then he started the calls again. Two jakes ran by so fast without making a sound, I briefly considered taking a shot but decided to wait. A few hours later I had waited enough and decided that we could go out again next week. I was freezing!

This past Sunday I again woke up at 4 AM. We hiked out to the blind, but it was much warmer. It was also amazing to see how much more green the brush had become, and in addition to the sounds of birds we could hear the spring peepers. Just as the sun started to rise, I saw movement in the brush. It was a deer. Breathtaking. Then Dad saw a coyote, but it was an angle at which I couldn’t see it. We also were able to watch squirrels playing in the trees.

We were able to hear a few gobbles, but not nearly as many as last week and a bit farther away. Finally we heard one approaching, but it came from behind and was facing away from us. “Do you see a beard?” Dad asked. “I can’t tell,” I said. “How bad is it to shoot a hen?” I asked. “Very,” he said. While I’m very proud of him for instilling high hunter’s ethics in his children, after it ran into the brush and started gobbling and we realized it was a tom I sort of wished there was a bit of wiggle room.

A few hours later, I came to realize that we weren’t going to get a turkey that day. We decided to pack it in. That’s OK. I enjoyed hiking in the woods and spending time with Dad. For me, that’s what it’s all about. Feeling the connection to family and land. Getting a turkey is just dressing.