While the mother has a direct attachment to the pregnancy, I believe most fathers begin thinking far into the future for when the time comes that we get to meet the thing growing in mom's stomach. I am guilty of this "far-ahead" thinking. Kitty and I decided to go old school and wait to find out at birth if we are having a son or daughter. I catch myself time and time again thinking about who they'll be, raising them, teaching them how to do various things and making difficult decisions to ensure that they will be on the path to being a good part of this world. While most of those thoughts tend to keep me up at night, I find the most pleasure in pondering all the adventures we'll have as a family along the way. Most adventures I see in our future of course, revolve around hunting, acquiring food and the outdoors. The more time spent outside the better. I want my kid to get dirty, know where their food comes from and be exposed to the wild world. Rather than wait until the baby is born, Kitty and I decided to get a head start on the "family adventures" as I had the great opportunity to take Kitty on her first turkey hunt while 23-weeks pregnant.
Last year after finishing up a dinner consisting of turkey schnitzel, Kitty decided she wanted to join in on all the fun and exhilaration that is turkey hunting. Over the next several months, we prepared for this years season. We talked turkey behavior, calling and practiced shooting. The time had finally came to put all of this to action. The morning of opening day, I was filled with anxious excitement. Kitty has killed several deer over the years but this would be her first time ever hunting turkeys. I felt the pressure of ensuring the experience was pleasant so that we could do it again the following year.
As we crossed over the boundary onto the piece of public land we aimed to hunt, a distant gobble broke the silence of the morning! My head whipped around to look at Kitty and ask her if she heard it but she beat me to the punch and before I could even say anything she whisper shouted, “I heard a gobble!”
The excitement in her voice matched the excitement that filled my body. I did my best to keep my cool because if there’s one thing that is for sure about hunting, nothing is guaranteed. We started hiking our way in the direction of the gobbles, using the predawn darkness as cover to slip in unseen. We followed a cut through, which quieted our steps. The path took us down into a draw that then gradually inclined back up to the main ridge of the area. Once on top of the ridgeline we veered southward, entering the woods and began creeping through ever slowly. Gobbles could be heard in almost every direction! It was paradise for a turkey hunter and exactly what I had hoped for. We reached an opening in the timber and stood there silently, listening for more gobbles and coming up with a plan. From the sounds of the gobbles, I’d guess the closest turkeys were still a couple hundred yards from our position. We held tight as the birds were within calling range and I didn’t want to press our luck and possibly bump them off the roost.
As we stood and listened, a barred owl rang out, “Who cooks for you? Who cooks for you all?”
You’re probably thinking, wow an owl that speaks English?! Well, no I’m not saying that. If you've ever heard a barred owl, it does sound like it’s saying that phrase but through “hoots”. Look up a video and you’ll see what I’m talking about!
As soon as the owl finalized its last hoot, out rang another one to our left! The groups of roosted turkeys responded to all the owl chatter with gobbles of their own. The noise of the woods was filled with owls and turkeys vocalizing back and forth. I couldn’t help but turn to Kitty and laugh because the setting was so surreal. Kitty was getting to experience what turkey hunters dream of and I couldn’t have been more pleased. I looked at Kitty and said, “Now we play the waiting game.”
There was still a good half hour or so until the sun would rise and still time after that before the turkeys would glide down off their roost. I positioned Kitty against a tree and I got comfortable against another about ten feet to her left. We sat in the darkness and listened to the turkey talk. As the sun rose, the woods lightened up and the turkeys eventually quieted down telling me they were off the roost. I let out a few yelps with my pot call, mimicking a female turkey. I hoped and expected to be met with a response from a tom, but rather I was met with silence. I didn’t get discouraged as I know it can sometimes be difficult to a call in a gobbler fresh off the roost. A lot of times they will be with hens and their mindset is why leave this lady for another that I can’t even see. It’s just a part of turkey hunting. After a few calling sequences, we sat silently. For a little bit, the only noise of the woods were song birds and the honks of geese far off in the distance. I looked over at Kitty, her eyes shut as the peace of the morning created the ideal place for a nap. I whispered over to her that it’s time to move and her eyes opened as she shook her head in the affirmative.
We moved to the west roughly 150 yards and then dropped off the ridge southward down into a little bowl. We stopped and listened for a bit and due south of our position heard a gobble. I estimated the bird was 200 yards off so we continued down into bowl another 100 yards or so until we reached an area with decent visibility. The new growth of spring made for thick woods and I knew any shot opportunities would be up close and personal. Kitty sat up against a blackjack oak and I sat spitting distance behind her against another blackjack. We were well concealed and had a good sight line ahead of us where I hoped the bird would show up. I grabbed my mouth call and placed it against the top of my mouth. With a few forces of air from my gut, I let out a sequence of soft yelps. Immediately my call was met with a nearby gobble. Kitty looked back at me smiling from ear to ear! I responded back to the gobbler with more yelps but this time he cut me off with three gobbles in a row. Here we go.
The calling aspect of hunting is something I love. Whether it’s ducks, elk or turkeys, there’s just something about making an animal believe you’re one of them that is so satisfying. Spring is the turkey mating season and while turkey gobbles can be heard anytime technically, they are most prevalent in the springtime. The unique thing about calling turkeys is that naturally, a tom gobbles to let any hen nearby know that he’s there and the hens travel to the males location. Well, when you’re calling for turkeys, you are doing the opposite of what nature intends by making hen sounds, hoping the gobbler will come to you! Plus, certain noises mean certain things and it’s all about speaking the language. Once the gobbler cut me off, I knew I had him on a string. I decided it was time to give him the silent treatment. Something most men can’t resist. I shut up entirely. My tactic worked as the tom started blaring out gobbles one after another. I whispered to Kitty, “He’s coming.” Each gobble became louder and louder indicating the bird was closing in.
I pointed out a unique tree in front of us about 25 yards. The tree grew from the base and then forked off forming two main branches that then twisted around each other almost mimicking a loose knot. I told Kitty that if the gobbler got within that, he would be within range to shoot. The ol’ tom was right on top of us but he was nowhere to be seen. Kitty held her shotgun at the ready. My heartbeat raced in my chest with anticipation. Finally, the bird behind the gobbles presented himself as we caught a flash of a red and white head through the underbrush. The bird was in range as I whispered to Kitty, “Shoot him. Shoot him if you got him.”
The tom’s head became more apparent as I waited for the shot to ring out. He inched closer and closer until “BOOM”! The blast of Kitty’s shotgun rang out, silencing the woods after its echo elapsed. Roughly 15 yards off, lay a dead tom turkey. A magnificent bird at that, who sported a 10 inch beard and spurs just a hair over the 1 inch mark. Our plan worked and Kitty filled her first turkey tag. We now have several delicious meals in our future with the meat from this bird. I knew from Kitty's reaction that we would be chasing turkeys together for the rest of our lives. The smile on her face is a memory I will always cherish.
A feeling of accomplishment overcame me and I thought back to my first turkey while hunting alongside my dad. There is satisfaction in getting to experience the joys of the hunt with someone and I now know how my dad must have felt on that day several years ago. I couldn't help but picture the exact same scenario years from now when our child will join me. Kitty is far enough along in her pregnancy that they say the baby is starting to hear noises and can feel the emotions of mama. I like to think that during this whole experience, our baby listened in on the turkey gobbles, the owl hoots and felt the rush of excitement that we felt on this particular morning. This hunt wasn’t just Kitty and I, but all three of us. Our little family. I look forward to getting to experience all the emotions of this day again, except it’ll be our child shouldering the gun and making the perfect shot on a long beard. Just like their mama did today. Pregnancy, like hunting, requires patience. The process can sometimes seem long and drawn out, but it's the result at the end of it that makes the wait all worthwhile.
Until next time...stay wild.
Brock
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