From: “Grand Days in the Turkey Woods”

Gates of Forever Roost- Traditions & Passings

While back at my office this afternoon working on building a successful technology company, I sometimes get a few moments to ponder things not so tech related. Setting up a computer or crunching design rule checks on a sensor or pcb layout, there are periods of waiting for the computer to do the tasks that it does best.

The morning routine today which happens to be mid-war spring turkey season was a bit different. With the big storm that blew in last night, and out early morning I got to enjoy three luxurious hours of extra sleep. With no success the prior evening in roosting gobblers, I would opt to start the hunt mid-morning, and hoped that the later arrival in the turkey woods would coincide with the birds coming around and shaking off a bad night. Of course, I was counting on them to start gobbling in earnest.

I would hook up with my long time hunting partner, Paul Walling. You find his name here within these pages often, and as you may recall in each of the books I have published to date. Having let the foul weather pass, we would now go about the business of filling another New York spring season tag. We got in the woods before nine o’clock and the day had blossomed into a beautiful sunny day. As always we would chat about many things including recent events and what might be chewing at the back of our minds from time to time.

Several weeks earlier:

2014 proves to be a challenging year in many ways. The start of New York spring turkey season would support that thought in earnest.

In any typical season in the Joyner household, whether it be opening of deer season, fall turkey or especially spring turkey it is normal and expected that I enjoy the opener with my beautiful bride of fourteen years; Lee Joyner. Most years, most seasons it is a couples date for us.

For the past few years Lee’s mother (affectionately known as my mother in-law) had been battling cancer. Having beat it twice before, she was once again in a fight of and for her life. Lee’s father, Leroy Harrison, whom I have wrote about in a prior blog passed away just before PA deer season in 2008.

In all honesty we all felt she would soon follow as they had been married nearly fifty years and did everything together. She was shy, her personality low key. Despite this she put up the fight of a champion and all for her love of family. Much stronger than I would have thought, much stronger than I would myself imagine being. Round three with cancer would be her final fight and she passed on April 29th. As many of you have witnessed heroic and well fought wars with cancer, so have I, and hers was impressive in her effort and will to live. Mother in-laws are typically the subject of much humor, but as mine she was a great one, much like my father in-law was. They will both be remembered often and sorely missed.

Lee headed down the following day, and I would follow several days later. The New York opener would start as a solo act. To be truthful, I found the turkey woods to be soothing as they always do spending time in God’s creations. Just as truthful, I loathed not spending it with my wife. Never heard a bird gobbled that morning and the highlight was bumping five hens off the roost, no suitor nearby. Even hooking up with Paul Walling later that morning I felt uneasy, and it detracted from enjoying it as I would normally. As much as I love my time in the woods, I was not at peace there during this difficult time. The afternoon was spent clearing my plate of business matters before leaving for an extended weekend to attend the funeral.

Today we lay to rest Susanne Harrison, she no longer is in pain, and in our faith we believe she is in a better place.

I would return to the turkey woods soon and my thoughts of both of my in-laws will be prominent in my thoughts. For my wife it is a passing of a generation and the baton is passed on to her and her siblings. The yearly tradition is altered for this year but will go on, and no doubt the memories of our loved ones will occupy our thoughts while resting up against a majestic maple or the aptly named monarch in a set of woods. For us, we have a twisted old tree we call the turkey tree. You’ll find us there from time to time and hopefully in spirit when we too come to pass.

R.I.P. Susanne Harrison

Back to the turkey woods:

This would be much of what was on my mind as I met up with Paul a week later.

With my recent loss of my mother in-law in her battle with cancer, the conversation would be part of a slow progress along a big ridge. We would talk about who would handle our affairs when our time came, what was important to pass on, and to whom. I would jokingly remark (in ways maybe more serious) that I would look out for him and his affairs but I would be teed off if he didn’t send at least another hundred gobblers to the “Gates of Forever Roost” before heading off to his own special place. Yes, even as mighty hunters we are painfully aware of our own fragile nature and mortality. That may come as a surprise to those who view us in a negative light for our love and passion of hunting.

Although involved in a deep and serious discussion, we did not ignore the task at hand. Our hunt would be deliberate and patient. Given that the birds were not committing to the calls, the gobbles seemed to be even further away than they may have been. Despite that we still knew that it could change in a few very short minutes. I have recounted several stories over the years of hunts that started and ended in less than a few minutes. Our progress out along the ridge would be no faster than a hen contently feeding along a roadway…

In our quest each season, and as much as we love our great pastime, in practical terms, it’s about harvesting gobblers. From the bird’s point of view, it is not likely to be a favorable one. It is, however, our personal bond with the natural world that we come to appreciate it the way we do and understand in a very deep and emotional way the cycle of things such as life and death. It is a perspective not gained by way of conveniences that we enjoy in modern society.

One can and should be self-aware, close to their human existence. We share experiences that make us lifelong friends and companions participating in any number of favorite pastimes or activities. I would not claim what we so love to do is better. For many of us, it is. I would submit to you, that despite the over the top marketing of hunting products, our sport of turkey hunting is not one of blood lust, or testosterone filled fantasies. It is in many ways closer to nature, and akin to the creations around us.

As an outdoor writer I strive to bring my experiences of the turkey woods to print in such a way that you may see, empathize, and possibly even experience it as I do. I will flatly claim that I barely manage to bring a fraction of all the things I observe of my time in the turkey woods. In my quest to convey what I so love about turkey hunting, I can sometimes put you in the tree next to me, or at least cause you to remember a similar experience. In that, I am sometimes successful, and will continue to hone my craft.

…Paul and I would continue our way along the ridge and stop occasionally to see if those “over in the next county” gobbles might grow feet and come our way. Our conversation would continue as we worked the same ridge back which is another favorite way we have found to call up birds to the gun. Our hunt back to the truck was just as slow, and deliberate, the conversation just as priceless. Those conversations with Paul, whom I have come to know and respect over the many years, are beyond description and something I hold in high regard. We would return back to the truck without carrying the extra weight of a defeated gobbler. That would matter little to either of us.

Today’s hunt was as relaxing as any meditation or yoga class one might take, and was as peaceful as my soul required today. We would hear gobbling until almost noon, but they had plans other than granting ours. It was a morning of great friendship, great discussion of most serious matters, and as good a hunt that I had in recent memory.

I wish all of you to have days in the great turkey woods like the one I had today.

© 2015 Joyner Outdoor Media