Father/Daughter Turkey Hunt
Drip, Drop…Drip, Drop…goes the rain on the roof of our Clam Outdoors Hunting Blind. I noticed the pine needles glistening with water droplets outside of my window. As my dad and I setup our decoys and situate our equipment, I think to myself, how lucky we are to have a shelter to stay dry in.
My dad zips the door shut, all goes dark inside our blind as the game is about to begin. We start the morning off with a couple of yelps using the box call, with no response from a gobbler. We sit and keep watching down the field, while watching the heavy spring rain fall. As the time ticks by, the critters of the woods start to become active. Loons, cranes and crows are all singing their songs.
My dad grabs the box call again, yelp…yelp…yelp while between yelps, I shut my eyes to concentrate on listening for any gobblers that would answer back to us. Still nothing…so back to watching the fields and woods for movement.
Time to use the gobbler call, but first a couple of yelps before the gobble call is used. After that series of calls, we got a fast response of gobbles back. “Sounds like 2 Toms” my dad says.
He calls again, Bam! Another response instantly. This time a little closer than the last. We call, they respond, we call, they respond. Closer and closer they travel to us by the second. In a short time, I make a visual on the first Tom, then I see the second Tom, followed by a third.
My dad and I get ready with our shotguns. All 3 very mature Toms are strutting into our decoys. Now the tricky part, to get them separated so we can get clean shot’s. All 3 Toms are rubbing their feathers together almost like they are doing a waltz.
Out of nowhere, a hen comes from behind us and goes right in front of our decoys. So now the tricky situation just got a whole lot more interesting. In the blink of an eye, the furthest left turkey finally separated from the group, just enough for me to take my shot.
Without any hesitation, my safety clicks off and I take a shot and drop him. Before I even pump my shell out, my dad takes his shot. Out of shock to both of us, my dad had a complete miss, he shot right behind the Tom.
The flock rushed back into the woods with the turkey that my dad missed heading straight for my downed bird. It started beating on my turkey and with patience, my dad held the gun steady for another shot.
The longest seconds ticked by until the moment arrived for my dad to take that shot. When he did, the bird went down. Intensely waiting to see what was going to happen next for the turkey was still moving.
My dad and I rushed out of the blind, handing him more shells as we ran. As we reached his bird, next thing you know, the bird gets up and takes off. We chase him down the trail and right before our eyes, it disappears. Neither I nor my dad moves a muscle looking to see where the bird went. There in a thin grouping of brush, the bird was hiding in, my dad pulls up and takes his shot with the bird dropping in its tracks.
After we catch our breath from the intense chase, we collect his bird and head back to find mine.
Our hunt is one for the books, a dual hunt that turned into a double down success.
