I never considered that I would shoot a turkey today. In fact, I didn’t even think that I would be seeing turkeys today. My sweetheart and I were going to take a mini-vacation this week, culminating with hiking the Tallgrass Prairie National Preserve. Because I took a half day of vacation and because the current film selection in the local theater was terrible, we decided to go for a walk and see if we could not put her new digital camera to good use. I knew of a local lake that had been producing good numbers of migratory shorebirds, so I suggested that we go there.
Fast forward two hours later. We’d seen American pelicans, cranes, geese, swallows, shrikes and assorted other fowl. After relocating a couple miles down the road I passingly told my sweetie that we were in excellent turkey habitat. The gravel road ended in a massive hardwood draw with a beautiful washout on the right hand side. A considerable clearing with aged trees interspersed throughout looked exactly like the kind of place that a longbeard would hang out…and it was! After discussing the habitat, my partner encouraged me to giving calling a try, just for kicks and giggles. I quickly fished a diaphragm call out of my pack and gave two sets of three-note yelps. I was immediately answered by a gobble a few hundred yards away.
Now we are in a predicament. We are not in turkey hunting
attire. I am wearing my brightest blue jeans, a gray polo, and a Cabela’s hat
with a bright orange fish on it. My dearest was clad in blue jeans, sportswear
and a blue-gray Nike hat. This was going to be interesting. I quickly placed
her behind a large oak and descended the slope about 10 yards to shorten the
potential shot range. I knew this would be necessary. Typically when turkey hunting
I carry a Stoeger 3500 with a Primos Tightwad Choke and Winchester Longbeard XR
ammo. This setup with the 3 1/2” shells (2 oz of 5 shot in a resin-locked
column) will kill a bird way on the other side of 50 yards. However, I wasn’t
planning on going turkey hunting today; I was planning on going walking. So, I
was packing my “walking” shotgun: a Remington 870 Wingmaster retired from a
Midwestern police department and given new life as my home defense gun. It is
perfect for walking because of the light weight, short length-of-pull stock,
and handy single-point sling. Despite its utility, I knew that an 18”
cylinder-bored barrel and 1 ¼ oz of #6 shot was not going to do the job past 25
yards.
After 15 minutes of talking turkey (hah!) I finally caught a glimpse of the tom that had responded. Not only was this the only gobbler I had in range all year, it was also likely the biggest tom that I had ever encountered in the field. His beard was every bit of 8” long. Unfortunately, I only had about a 10 second window to take the bird and he was over 40 yards away. I aligned the rifle sights on his day-glo red head but couldn’t force myself to pull the trigger. I knew the limitations of my weapon and it would have been an irresponsible decision. Soon after the gobbler disappeared into the brush and began putting. Once you hear this turkey vocalization, you know that the show is over. I climbed back up the bank only to find that my girlfriend had watched the turkey for 2 minutes before I ever had the chance to see him.
I’d be lying if I didn’t say that I wasn’t feeling downtrodden. We preceded out of the hardwoods and into a field-edge. A lake channel ran parallel to our path and I intended to make way for an overlook that would provide a good opportunity to set up the camera’s tripod. Half way there and we both heard rustling in the brush to our right. My girl pulls on my backpack and we pause. A few hopeful yelps are quickly sung but no reply occurs. Three steps later and the tall grass on the other side of us explodes in a hurricane of green blades and barred feathers. I immediately can tell that we have busted a bedded tom, but I can’t tell what size. Being the meat hunter that I am (don’t judge) I swing the 870 briskly and slap the trigger just as the bird takes flight. The whole ordeal lasts less than 2 seconds and I have not only my first Kansas turkey, but also my first public land turkey! Upon closer inspection it was obvious that the bird was a jake with a short beard, but I am still overjoyed. After a quick photo session I look up to see three other hunters coming towards us. They are each head-to-toe in matching designer camouflage, are wearing $100 turkey hunting vests, and are carrying camo-clad specialized turkey-hunting shotguns. They also look like I just walked over their grave—as I look like some twisted tourist, wearing a polo with a turkey in one hand and a riot shotgun in the other. After a quick chat with the boys we exchange well wishes and go about our respective ways. Sometimes it is better to be lucky than good and today was definitely one of those days. I wouldn’t have traded this dynamic and heart-pounding harvest for any other.
After 15 minutes of talking turkey (hah!) I finally caught a glimpse of the tom that had responded. Not only was this the only gobbler I had in range all year, it was also likely the biggest tom that I had ever encountered in the field. His beard was every bit of 8” long. Unfortunately, I only had about a 10 second window to take the bird and he was over 40 yards away. I aligned the rifle sights on his day-glo red head but couldn’t force myself to pull the trigger. I knew the limitations of my weapon and it would have been an irresponsible decision. Soon after the gobbler disappeared into the brush and began putting. Once you hear this turkey vocalization, you know that the show is over. I climbed back up the bank only to find that my girlfriend had watched the turkey for 2 minutes before I ever had the chance to see him.
I’d be lying if I didn’t say that I wasn’t feeling downtrodden. We preceded out of the hardwoods and into a field-edge. A lake channel ran parallel to our path and I intended to make way for an overlook that would provide a good opportunity to set up the camera’s tripod. Half way there and we both heard rustling in the brush to our right. My girl pulls on my backpack and we pause. A few hopeful yelps are quickly sung but no reply occurs. Three steps later and the tall grass on the other side of us explodes in a hurricane of green blades and barred feathers. I immediately can tell that we have busted a bedded tom, but I can’t tell what size. Being the meat hunter that I am (don’t judge) I swing the 870 briskly and slap the trigger just as the bird takes flight. The whole ordeal lasts less than 2 seconds and I have not only my first Kansas turkey, but also my first public land turkey! Upon closer inspection it was obvious that the bird was a jake with a short beard, but I am still overjoyed. After a quick photo session I look up to see three other hunters coming towards us. They are each head-to-toe in matching designer camouflage, are wearing $100 turkey hunting vests, and are carrying camo-clad specialized turkey-hunting shotguns. They also look like I just walked over their grave—as I look like some twisted tourist, wearing a polo with a turkey in one hand and a riot shotgun in the other. After a quick chat with the boys we exchange well wishes and go about our respective ways. Sometimes it is better to be lucky than good and today was definitely one of those days. I wouldn’t have traded this dynamic and heart-pounding harvest for any other.
