Early yet in the first week of New York’s spring turkey season. It is an annual pilgrimage each year at our household like so many others. As mentioned in an earlier blog post, family health issues has taken center stage and supersedes even the most ingrained rituals one might have. With myself and one of our daughters cleared from a cancer scare, we are batting at good odds, one more family member to go. None of us will rest easy nor sleep well until such time as we get the all clear news…
Opening day was a late start with Lee, my bride of nearly 17 years. It has been a couples date every season with only a few exceptions. with all the non-hunting related issues going on, and the both of us recovering from pneumonia, it wasn’t much of a surprise. We slowly hunted our way in, and the late start was not much of a detriment as with all the countryside we could hear you could not buy a gobble much less lather up a lusty gobbler. Owls and crows were no more successful at pulling out a gobble as we found out quick enough. We did set up at the strategic spot we like on our property and settled in for any strong but silent type gobblers that might be out for a morning search party. We did hear one single shotgun blast early but that would be all we heard until a distant blast an hour later. After several hours we decided to hunt back to the house and managed to raise a rather large Jake. He gobbled on top of any calls I made and was covering lots of ground. He, in fact, showed up in range but behind us, and in one hell of a hurry as he scurried away as fast as he showed up. He headed up the hill away from us and in a few short minutes I called him back just as quickly as he left, except this time he was in a more open area. I had clear target lock on him, but no significant beard to be seen. Looked to be every bit of sixteen pounds, a big jake for sure, maybe a two-year-old with his beard hugging his body as they sometimes do. As before, the jake left nearly as fast as he approached. Apparently, he was racing around from spot to spot much like Rio Grand Turkeys like to do. Lee nearly got an opportunity, but the bird moved on before she could get her gun lined up on him. No third time is a charm calling him back. All in all made for a very nice morning excursion with some action and a live participant to boot.
This morning I went solo for just a brief hunt as work demands I be in the office early. Much cooler and with a slight drizzle of rain, I decided to see what I might make happen in the turkey woods. I headed over across from our property to that of our good friends Jeff and Missy. Many fond memories there as it’s where I took my first gobbler in 1993. Lots of gobblers carried back to the truck since that time. I headed to their back twenty acres as I knew it would be protected from the wind, and I would be able to hear anything resembling a wild turkey. Being located in a large horseshoe-shaped bowl I could hear a lot of territory including properties I could not hunt and some that would require getting the truck to drive over to. Fly down time from the roost came and went, and not a wing flap, a yelp or a gobble to be heard anywhere. That would be a consistent story, set of facts to be entered into the records up until I left for work. With the all the quiet, the tranquil surroundings I would close my eyes and could hear the chickadees from far enough away I could not accurately tell you how far. As much as my quest was to have an epic battle with a monarch of these woods, I found leaning back just enough to watch the clouds roll on by to be just as enjoyable. As I would remember as a little boy, I have not forgotten some of these most simple pleasures. The rebirth of all things in the spring is ever more so in the turkey woods. Today I relaxed long enough to take it all in, and enjoy it for what it is, in its most simple forms.
With all the happenings going on in my family, myself, work obligations, and the list of things that dampen my well being my soul, situations I cannot change nor have yet found a way to accept, I find peace in the turkey woods. Whether it be non-stop action, a hot gobbler marching in looking a for a ride in the truck or in this case, my case, needed food for the soul, it remains as a favored sanctuary wherever I spend time in the turkey woods. My brief time this morning in a place that I have spent a good share of during the past twenty-five seasons was as uplifting and satisfying as any of the grand days I have had the good fortune to experience. The only downside or regret while walking back was that I could not enjoy a bit more time there. There will be other days in this special place or others I have deemed to be, and I look forward to more times in each of them. It is my sincere wish that each of you have such places to enjoy or come to know well enough as the seasons’ pass.
With most of the season yet ahead of us I wish you all much success in as many ways as you may enjoy. May all your days in the turkey woods be grand days…
-MJ
© 2017 Mike Joyner- Joyner Outdoor Media
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