Spring turkey hunting is a grind and it’s no wonder why more people don’t do it. Here’s the turkey timeline from the last hunt of our 2018 season in Missouri.

3:24a – Alarm Clock Preempted

Over the years I’ve developed the mildly impressive superpower of waking up just before my alarm clock goes off. On this day, it was set for 3:30a. Knowing I’d be foggy-headed in the morning, I had set out my clothes and loaded the Jeep the night before…like a big boy going to his first day of class.

As my feet hit the carpet, the devil on my shoulder whispered, “Do you really think you’re going to even see a turkey today? Is all of this effort really worth it?” The angel on the other shoulder was still sleeping.

4:00a – On the Road

After an incoherent mashup of food for breakfast (because you’re not that hungry at that time of day, but you know once 11:00a rolls around you’ll be starving) I was rolling to meet my buddy Joe. It’s about an hour drive to the property and as I drove, I categorized all the other motorists up at that hour as one of the following:

• Over the road truck drivers
• Fellow turkey hunters
• People on their way to commit crimes

5:00a  – Arrive and Meet Up

A lone cottontail bounced out of the gravel lot adjacent to a cedar thicket as my headlights washed over the parking area. Joe was running a few minutes behind and for a moment I thought a quick nap might be possible, then I remembered that the cargo space behind me looked like a Cabela’s blew up and that getting my bow put together, decoys out, calls tucked into pockets might be a good idea.

Ten minutes later, Joe rolled up, shut his Jeep down, and then broke the morning still with a “Gooooooood morning!” greeting. He was overcompensating. The only kind of morning it was was early.

5:30a – Setting Up

Joe had tried roosting some birds on the property the night before…to no avail, but he did stash a blind near where we intended to set up, so that was a bonus. Between the bow, decoys, chairs, water, Easy-Bake Oven, camera gear, calls, one less thing is always welcomed.

Because there was no gobbling from the roost, we decided to stake out the decoys on a ridge where Dad killed his first turkey a few years prior. Soft daylight spilled over the brimming eastern horizon as we climbed into the blind.

 

6:22a – Gobbling

Finally, some active sign that turkeys still existed on the property! The gobbles drifted up to us from a lower central pasture as I interspersed cutting and yelping on slate and box calls. Joe worked in some mouth calling as he panned the camera over the scene in front of us. Maybe waking up early and all this work wasn’t so bad after all.

[KGVID]http://thethinkingwoodsman.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/05/Gobbling.mp4[/KGVID]

6:45a – Birds!

Joe whispered urgently, “Birds! Tim, we got birds coming.”

To our right, coming up the rocky service road, two gobblers glistening black in the low, early morning sun charged toward the decoys. Beards swinging side-to-side, they circled in behind the full strut jake and hen decoys at 18 yards.

Suddenly, a season’s worth of early wake-ups, miles driven on the road, suspicious gas station “food”…all of it seemed a completely reasonable trade for this moment.

[KGVID]http://thethinkingwoodsman.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/05/Birds.mp4[/KGVID]

At full strut, one of the long beards sidled up next to his foam counterfeit inferior. They had moved so swiftly from right to left that I had to reposition which window to shoot from. At first broadside, I held the single pin of my sight just a touch back from center mass. The gobbler bristled again and turned into the decoy, forcing his head through the tips of the jake fan I had placed on the decoy. Now facing me, I steadied the chartreuse pin against the blackness of his chest, slightly offset to the left of his beard and began executing the shot.

Thwack. Broken feathers billowed away from the tom as he sprung into the air and limped away.

Suddenly, for some reason, I wasn’t even thinking about being tired.

My bird’s partner spun a circle away from the decoys but was still lurking at 22 yards, curious about the scene.

Adrenaline still giving me jitters, I motioned for Joe to hand me the camera.

“Shoot the other bird!”

“Which one is he?”

“The one in front.”

Now fully slicked down and out of strut, the unscathed turkey paused stretched out to periscope the situation while his buddy walked off to find a quiet place to expire.

Boom. A clump of lower neck feathers flew off the bird as he crumpled in place.

7:10a – The Recovery

Joe and I split up to look for my bird. I called Beth and asked for prayer to find him. Bowhunting turkeys is not the typical way to pursue them and I get quite a bit of side-eye for “wasting time” hunting them like that. Recovering this bird would be affirmation of my principles and redemption from a long season.

When I did find him, I snapped a few pictures and began sending them to some of my hunting buddies. It’s fun getting to share in each other’s victories. Beth got a text too. She played an instrumental role in the recovery.

7:30a – The Media Circus

Hero shots. Product photos. Video recreations. Social media updates. All of it takes time and is rarely appreciated by anyone who doesn’t have to do it. All those “natural looking” images from the hunt rarely are. They take time to frame and stage.

9:40a – On the Road Again

“My life’s love is hunting turkeys with my friends…”

The trip home went by in a blur with phone call after phone call retelling the story of the morning’s hunt. I love the fact that a kill becomes an event in my circle of friends.

10:40a – Getting Dirty

After a quick snack (I prefer to eat before dressing game so my peanut butter doesn’t also smell like turkey blood. Just a preference) it was time to take a few additional product photos then debone the tom. One leg was trashed because of the broadhead, but the breasts and left leg and thigh were great. I also harvested the beard and tail fan. I’m not much on saving hooks unless they’re remarkable. These were good.

1:00p – Family Time

With the meat trimmed and cooling in the fridge, it was time to catch up with the Beth and the kids before heading in for a work dinner that evening.

5:00p – Back to Work

Showered and in a button-down and tie, I left the house again, only this time, galactically more tired than I left at 3:30 that morning. I arrived just before six and managed a few minutes of weird dream time with the driver seat reclined back in the parking lot of the event venue.

10:00p – Back Home

Finally home for the day and too tired to sleep just yet, I decided to finish processing the bird. I unpacked the vacuum sealer and meat grinder and played butcher for a little over an hour. Beth appreciates the wild game I bring home, but prefers it to look more like something purchased in the meat section of the grocery store when I’m finished with it.

With all the cuts packaged up, counters wiped down, and equipment put away, I shut off the lights in the kitchen.

11:30p – It is Finished

Having been up and moving for 20 hours straight, it was finally time to call it a night. I didn’t even brush my teeth, just headed straight to bed.

Most hunting trips don’t result in much. It’s the ones that do that keep us coming back despite the time, effort, and expense required. On this trip, killing two gobblers with a great friend in the same spot where my Dad and I killed years before while he was still alive, all those made the exhaustion a happy price to pay…though I might need a year or so to get ready for this grind again.