|The 70 yard turkey, yes I really did it but it was pure luck. This 3 bearded turkey appeared to be closer in my scope, as it cause and optical illusion of being closer, so I shot. One number 4 went right through his head
“He sounds like the Spirit of the Wild.”
An early morning fog drifted in without a sound with a peaceful but eerie effect, which lent a quiet stillness to the remote hills, piney woods and creek bottoms of the beautiful Louisiana country. Some where in a tall majestic pine tree, roosted a solitary boss gobbler. The rest of the harem, were beneath him on the pecking order of things, and made their nighttime refuge on the creek bank below the ridge where they where safe, constantly under surveillance by the Lord of the Wild Turkeys.
You can not put the wild turkey in comparison with human characteristics as all the traits that makes up the perfect wild turkey seems anti logical to the human side, or then again maybe you can. He struts swelling his snood, he is arrogant, and doesn’t get along with his friends too well being obnoxious and down right combative, wild and uncivilized. He will hit his brother when he is down, and expects the women folk to wait on him hand and feather, then come instantly to his beckon call. The young males are not the choice of the females, while the older boys are the rock stars.
Ruark’s Cape buffalo looked at you like you owed him money. The Long Beard looks at you with an evil eye of aristocratic disgust, as if you should kneel before him, like so many peons. To make eye contact with this creature, instantly deflates the ego, which brings out in men the worst fear of all, that of failure.
He comes in boasting to the call, head on with courage like the charge of the Light Brigade, half a league, half a league onward into the valley of death. He dares you to make one mistake, and that you will. Perhaps this is why Benjamin Franklin recommended the Wild Turkey instead of the Bald Eagle as the National Emblem. Our turkey is indeed a brave patriotic fellow.
So you enter this hollowed cathedral of endless forest, cascaded with the spring awakening of the red bud, and the biblical dog wood tree, as you remember to yourself the promise that no dog wood will ever grow large enough to ever make another cross. For a moment you feel a certain peace come over you, as you enter the state of grace of the turkey hunter.
This euphoria is instantly shattered, by the faint sound of a gobble in the distance. This one sound, multiplies the senses to the absolute extreme. It is of the wildest of nature’s calls and yet so common in a barn yard that it goes completely unnoticed. In this environment however it becomes the challenge, the beckoning enticement, the filibustering of the wild turkey to summon you to the age old duel.
Accepting the challenge is easy, following through may be a little more than the average hunter wants to do. It’s safe to say you can through more money at the wild turkey than any other huntable species and never get one. Or you can just as easily nail one the first time out. You just never know as they are that unpredictable. Would you have it any other way?
There is so much information on the wild turkey that you would think hunting them would be a cinch. Camouflage that makes you invisible, blinds to hide in. Incredible guns and ammunition that would up end a Russian tank, or archery equipment that can hit a dime at 40 yards. Calling is so refined that if a real turkey entered a contest of calling he would probably lose. Still there is not even a smigit of a guarantee of success. So hunting them becomes a Vision Quest, as those who hunt the wild turkey and like it, prefer nothing else. PASS IT ON……