The Perfect Hunt

I have never been on a hunt where everything looked like it was scripted for a television show. Not until the opening day of the 2020 spring gobbler season. My son, Chris and I have hunted many first days together and I usually manage to mess it up. I miss, I shoot too soon, I do not shoot. I move. If there is a way to ruin a turkey hunt, I have done it. But my son, patient and persistent, keeps taking me. (But I have wondered why we only hunt that one day together. Hmmm?).

Now Chris is a dedicated turkey hunter, and has been for decades. Me, well, not so much. He is very good at it. Me, not so much. But this year I had a good feeling. Felt confident. I had sighted in my gun the week before (a novel idea). I had gone the day before season and had located several gobblers on the roost before I headed off to work. I had a new, lightweight turkey vest to compensate for the weight I have gained.

It was a very foggy morning. We headed to a spot that had kicked our behinds before. Actually, most spots have kicked mine. It was here that one of us missed a huge bird after a hen practically stepped on him. One year we chased a gobbler for hours, only to to push him to the other side of the ridge. I will not tell where this turkey challenge is, but it is in my Clarion 120, actually only 30 minutes from my house and on public land.

We arrived at our spot around 5:00. It was completely dark, but we headed in. I had not forgotten anything and found everything that I needed right away. A good start. Part way in Chris asked me to turn my headlamp off. When we got to the end of the old gas line access road, we went 15 yards around the bend and stopped. Chris insisted that we stand by a tree, in case we did not have time to find one later. Around 5:30 the first bird gobbled, a healthy distance away. Then three birds gobbled. Then four. Then one not too far away. And finally one startled us to attention at about 5:50. It was behind us, barely 100 yards away and right where we walked in. It was a good thing my light was off when we came in.

We sat down right against the trees we had been standing near, the perfect location as it turned out, and after a few minutes Chris gave one call. The bird hesitated then answered. Chris went silent. Shortly after 6 Chris gave a soft, short call. “Just to make sure he knows where we are at.”, Chris told me. As it got light we looked around. There was thick brush straight ahead of me, and Chris to my left, so I turned toward the road. “That bird is going to walk right down that old road looking for that hen. You can shoot through that thin cover if you have to.” When Chris told me that, I set up in a shooting position facing the end of the cover. Then we heard the bird leave the roost and heard it land. When he hit, he gobbled one time, went into full strut, and started down the path, just like Chris said.

I could see him coming 40 yards away. He had flown down the path close to 50 yards when he came out of that tree. He knew where he was going and why. All I could see at first was the tip of the fan, and then the upper half of his body and his head. It was a foggy, dull morning, and silhouetted against the fog, he looked like a tank just gliding through the woods, surreal, unstoppable in his mission and destination.

But I stopped him when he stepped one step out from behind the brush and paused, walking right into the sights of my gun at 16 yards. He hit the ground at 6:05 and again, for the last time, at 6:08. I do not know if Chris or I was the most shocked when I did not move or miss, but he was on his feet, whooping and looking for a high five, kind of his trade mark, before I convinced myself that Mr. Tom was not going to move.

We tried to follow up on another bird quickly, but after it answered and started toward us, it just disappeared. We were hoping for a double, but we were satisfied. I harvested that bird. But it was Chris’ understanding of turkeys and turkey hunting that made that hunt. Even more so, it is his vast knowledge of the woods in the Clarion 120 that led us to this spot years ago. A perfect hunt with your son in your 120 is as good as it gets.

There are plenty of turkeys in the Clarion 120. Between scouting and hunting, there are many great days to be had afield chasing this magnificent creature. It has been said that if you can kill a turkey in Pennsylvania, you can kill a turkey anywhere. Maybe so, but I will just stay in my part of Pennsylvania, the Clarion 120, and savor this memory.