Reflections From A Turkey hunter of a Certain Age

I just turned 62. As the old saying goes, "if I'd known that I was gonna live this long, I'd have taken better care of myself." Just kidding. All things considered, I'm doing pretty good, even though I'm beginning to doubt that I'll make it to my long-held goal of living to be at least 132 years old. I've noticed a tendency of late to look back upon my life in a more "reflective" manner, and I must say, in overall retrospect it's been one heckuva good run basically divided into two parts: before the wild turkey entered my life, and afterwards!

I saw my first gobbler when I was 23 and already proud of being an outdoorsman with interests in a variety of pursuits....hunting many different species of game birds and animals, fishing in all manner of waters both fresh and salt, and generally immersing myself at every opportunity in the hills and hollers which so draw me to their wonders. Every single one of these endeavors was immediately relegated to the back seat of importance once a big, beautiful wild turkey tom came waltzing in out of a downpour to my poorly rendered attempts at imitating the calls of a timid girl turkey, and my life has not been the same since. How could it be? There is nothing else like these birds in all of nature, and I view the pursuit of wild turkeys during the spring season as the penultimate challenge. The sport has come to absolutely rule my very existence, and it's led to my spending on average more than 70 days per year in the turkey woods.

I've seen a lot of stuff in these thousands of days afield. When I first ventured forth as a wet-behind-the-ears newbie, turkey numbers around the entire country were low. There weren't many turkey hunters, either. The sport itself was more legend than reality for most of us, with any supposed "knowledge" we possessed having come mostly from stories and tales told by what few actual turkey hunters we knew. These guys were held in high esteem and viewed as something special by us mere mortals, and their names were spoken of in whispered reverence. "Hush-mouthed" was a term coined to describe tom turkeys who didn't gobble much, but that moniker could just as well be used to define their old-school pursuers whom we were trying to emulate. Those guys didn't dole out a whole lot of information about either their exploits or their tactics, and so, the younger generation of up-and-coming turkey hunters (of which I was working hard to become a member) had to try and figure things out through the school of hard knocks. Trial and error were our teachers and main motivators; lots of trials, and lots and lots of errors!

The sport of turkey hunting held a great amount of mystique about it, and so did the birds themselves. They were said to possess uncanny and otherworldly powers of deception and escapism, and those of us inclined to fall under their spell treated each other as brothers and sisters should; sharing ideas and strategies, and trying to help one another figure out these vexing birds. We did this while conducting ourselves under the code of never interfering with someone who was already working a bird, and willingly going elsewhere if we found out another hunter had beaten us to "our" spot. In short, we treated one another with the same honor, dignity, and respect as that shown to our noble adversary.

Those bygone days were a simpler time in many ways, but one thing which we had going for us from the late '80's and onward was an exploding turkey population stemming from successful trap-and-transfer programs going on all across the country. It wasn't hard to find turkeys, or places to hunt them...either on public land, or private property which could generally be accessed with nothing more than permission and a handshake. State licenses were cheap, bag limits were liberal, and seasons were long. A fella intent on maximizing his opportunities could easily hunt a dozen or more states in a single spring season, if he was devoted and able to ignore responsibilities back home. I qualified as such in both regards, and many other folks did, too. A whole generation of pretty-darned-good turkey hunters "came of age" in the last couple decades of the 20th century and the first one of the 21st, as turkey populations thrived and continued to expand into practically every available acre of suitable habitat.

However, there were a few negatives to be found alongside all the good, and an over-abundance of media saturation was probably responsible for most of them. After all, the sport looked so easy on TV, and that drew people into the woods who were, quite frankly, unsuited to be called turkey hunters. They didn't have any idea of the sport's history and its subtle nuances, and they certainly didn't have enough respect for either their fellow hunters, or the wild turkey. How else can you explain anyone ever referring to this magnificent bird as a "thunder chicken?" Sacrilege! Turkey hunting isn't the equal of deer hunting, or duck hunting, or the hunting of anything else in the world....it is a far superior pastime to them all, and it should be conducted in an honorable manner and with the utmost dignity. The steady degradation of etiquette seen in the last decade or two has coincided with the exponential growth of the internet. Coincidence? I think not! Morals and ethics are important, and Social Media has facilitated a marked decline in both.

So long as I'm picking scabs, I might as well address another elephant in the room and mildly insult a few folks by bringing up decoys. Let's face it; wide-spread decoy use has quite simply made "turkey hunters" out of a number of people who never would have been able to attain success on a regular basis without this aid. I wouldn't go so far as to outlaw decoys, but it sure does get tiring to see how widely their influence has overtaken a sport which used to hinge around calling a tom into gun range by making him think there was a hen in a place where one didn't exist. Decoys take that ruse away, since the gobbler can actually see the object of his desire (the decoy). Turkeys don't have the mental facilities to tell real from fake. And, of course, decoy use is almost universal when it comes to the video's we all watch, which themselves now flood the internet on sites like YouTube. I guess the proliferation of these things was inevitable, since everybody seems so hell-bent on becoming a movie star these days and getting their 15 minutes of fame, but too much of a good spice spoils the soup...

Universal smart-phone ownership is another technological "advancement" that's denigrated our sport, in my opinion. Folks who were once so scared as to never venture very far from the parking lot can now find their way back to the truck via any number of "apps" on their phone, and that has put boot tracks and additional hunters in places where I never even dreamed other people might go. It used to be that a feller with a compass and paper topographic maps could get away from the crowds, but not now! I always counted on most of my successes coming as a result of working harder than other folks were willing to do, and putting in the greatest effort. However, many of the younger generation these days see busting my hump as nothing more than a character flaw. I may, indeed, have a dinosaur's thought processes going on here, but I think that the use of technology to take out all of the unknowns, guesswork, and intuition feels deep down in my soul like cheating. And now, we've got another latest-and-greatest technology (drones) rising up on the horizon (both literally, and figuratively) to further sully the meaning of "fair chase." Don't even get me started on this subject!

Despite how this blog may sound so far, I do not view today's situation as all doom and gloom. Quite the contrary! I still see the vast majority of turkey hunters as top-notch individuals, whom as a whole understand what this sport is all about and "get it." In all honesty, many of the negatives I've mentioned here basically stem from the enthusiasm with which everyone connected to this sport is possessed. We ALL hold an unabridged love for wild turkeys which lights a fire in our hearts, and that propels us to do anything and everything within our powers to keep the flame alive. This might translate as things sometimes getting carried a little too far, but I know it all comes from a good place. The world (and our sport) could just use a little more common sense and respect...two traits which are, unfortunately, sadly lacking in today's society.

The good news is that the passions found in turkey hunting stay with us forever. We continue to give of our time, our money, and our energies to help the resource. We preserve, protect, and enhance our properties both public and private in order to optimize nesting and brooding habitat, and we raise monies at every opportunity to hire wildlife professionals and game/land managers trained to show us the proper way. We encourage and support youth, handicapped, and women's programs to provide more opportunities for these populations to get out into the woods. In short, turkey hunters are both the way and the means to keep this wonderful sport alive and going forward, and I applaud all the efforts of all the countless people who have made the sacrifices necessary to give us these possibilities.

This last decade or so has definitely seen some challenges, such as a precipitous drop in turkey populations in many areas (particularly in the southeast, but elsewhere, as well). However, there is such a deep, profound, and heartfelt concern for the welfare of the wild turkey raging so strongly in hunters' hearts that the efforts to find out what's going on and correct the issues is taking place even as you read this. I am quite confident that we will eventually get things figured out and turned around, and I'm equally as sure that tomorrow's turkey hunters will evermore thrill to that most magnificent of sounds found in nature....the gobble of the wild turkey!

I am oftentimes both humbled and encouraged when speaking with people who exhibit the same bright-eyed excitement and enthusiasm which steered my course in the early days, and it warms my heart whenever I hear them describe the thrills that calling in one of these glorious creatures creates. Turkey hunters old and young love telling their tales, and turkey hunters both young and old enjoy hearing those told by others. That hasn't changed since time immortal, and I don't think it ever will. My creaky old knees have undoubtedly slowed me down from the way in which I once pursued these birds, but the thrill is still there in the center of my soul...a wonderment that will keep me chasing after wild turkeys for so long as I can venture forth. And when that time comes when I cannot, I know that there will be warm-hearted fellow turkey hunters willing to carry me out into the woods on their backs, if need be, just so I can once again experience the magic which has propelled me forward for all these years.