I just received my Illinois Turkey tag in the mail.  That means the season is just around the corner.  I thought I would share a very special hunt with you from a couple years ago. Enjoy!

"Dad…..Dad…Dad…" my 4 year old son, Sam, whispered.  “It is time to go get a turkey”.  I smiled and helped him get all his camo on.  Sam was very excited. This was my 31^st birthday and I was calling turkey for my father.  I drove in late the night before; we live about 350 miles apart and do not get to hunt together as much as we would like. The plan was to go to a family owned piece of property and try our luck.  My Dad and I had scored on a pair of Jakes two years prior.  We knew having Sam tag along would be challenging, but his excitement and willingness to go was all that mattered.  My dad had the rest of the season if it did not happen today.  Today was about spending time with my father and my son in the turkey woods.

Sam getting ready for the big hunt!

            As luck would have it, the birds did not cooperate.  I was able to get two gobblers fired up and move our way, but they had hens and would not commit.  The birds were on another piece of private ground and we could not change our set up.  Sam had heard them gobbling and thought it was cool but was starting to get bored.  We had two to three hours before we had to head back.  I suggested we drive some dirt roads on some public land I have seen birds on before.  So with no scouting or prior knowledge of where the birds like to hang out, the three generations headed off to spend time together.  We would stop every 200 yards or so and call from the truck.  After the 6^th or 7^th try with no response, I decided to check out a gravel pit a buddy of mine had seen birds at in the fall while grouse hunting.  I pulled to the end and called.  I was excitedly answered with a thunderous, close gobble.  I quickly fumbled with Sam’s head net and gloves, when I saw a truck heading our way.  The man said in a plain voice, “are you here for the 4-wheeler club?”  I quickly and quietly told him our situation and we headed off with high hopes.  Little did we know, the guy in the truck headed to the entrance of the gravel pit and instructed everyone who came in to park near the road to keep things quiet for us.

            My dad set up 20 yards of ahead of Sam and me.  I was doing all the calling and Sam was sitting in my lap.  At my first call, the bird immediately answered and started coming our way.  I was so exited.  I thought this is going to be great! Sam is actually going to witness the whole thing.  I had worked with him for several weeks on the importance of not moving, especially if he saw the turkey.  We had watched some videos and practiced, and I was fairly confident he would not move.  The gobbler continued to gobble his fool head off.  I started playing a game with Sam, asking him to tell me when he heard the turkey.  It was so cute.  I was able to get this bird so fired up he was gobbling every time I made a noise and even on his own.  Sam was continuously whispering, “I heard him dad”.  That was so much fun and helped Sam stay excited during the 90 minute battle with this public land long beard. 

            Several times the bird moved to within 50 or 60 yards and would stand there and gobble.  After a minute or two, he would fade off continuing to gobble.  Each time he moved off, we would pack up and move toward him.  I did not know the lay of the land and was not sure how to get around him.  Every time we did this, he would come back in to 50 or 60 yards and do the same thing.  After 4 times of this, I could see a small ridge ahead of us.  I realized the bird had slipped down to the bottom.  I knew we could sneak to the edge of the ridge and get close without being seen.  When we got to the edge, I called.  A very loud gobble raced up the ridge.  This bird was under 70 yards.  I knew birds would come up hill to calling so we scrambled fast.  Sam and I sat down 10 yards behind my dad.  It was very thick, and I could only see about 30 yards in any direction.  The ridge was only 10 yards from dad, so he could not see anything coming up it.  Also, there was a big blow down to his left.  When I called again the bird gobbled, this time much closer.  He was about 45 yards from me (35 from dad).  I now knew something was going to happen.  I told Sam that Pa was going to shoot soon and he could not move.  He said" O.K., Dad."  My heart melted.  This was awesome.

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Even if we did not get the bird, this was an incredible morning with my son and father and one I will cherish forever.  I decided to yelp very softly.  The gobbler roared again 15 yards from my dad.  I heard his safety click.  I again whisper to Sam to get ready.  I made 5 very soft clucks to make the bird show himself.  Then, I saw a large fan floating our way.  He was moving to my Dad’s left.  He came out in full strut into an opening 15 yards from Sam and I.  He was 5 yards from my Dad!  My Dad had caught a glimpse of his fan at about 15 or 20 yards, but did not see him to shoot until he was 5 yards away.  My Dad had to move to shoot, and when he did, the turkey putted and started to run.  I quickly started yelping as loud as I could with my mouth and slate calls.  The turkey slowed down, picked up his head and my dad dropped him at 15 yards!  Sam jumped up and started to give Grandpa high fives.  I ran over and gave Sam and my Dad a joyous hug.
            This amazing hunt was an enriching experience for me.  I have always appreciated the experience, the fellowship, and camaraderie, that hunting has to offer, but now it is different.  Obviously, the reason we are out there in the first place is to attempt to harvest an animal.  Harvesting is a major part of the hunt and an important one.  I am sure it helped to hook Sam for life (hopefully).  I now have a better appreciation for the word “attempt”.  That is what hunting is about.  The trying is the fun part.  Pulling the trigger is the easy part.  The actual kill is not necessarily that fun.  I did not shoot and this was the most fun hunt I have ever been on.  Seeing the excitement in my father was great.  Watching a young boy experience the outdoors with a sharp eyed turkey was fantastic.  I was very proud that at his age he was able to sit that still.  Do not be afraid to take young kids hunting.  Sure it may result in not bringing home game, but what you and the youngster will bring back will be much more important and valuable then a filled tag.  Who knows you may be lucky and accomplish both.