While more than 100 acres of winter wheat blanketed the spring soil not ten yards forward of our position we felt strangely closed in, but it was nice, even intimate. Nothing means more to a young son sitting in the darkness than knowing he’s next to his dad; I can say the same for sitting next to him. We sat, whispered and giggled for nearly an hour before I noticed a silver hue raining down through the treetops over our shoulders. It was just enough to expose the haunting glow of layered fog as it began to roll back its stranglehold on dew-laden wheat. As minutes ticked away so did darkness. The silver hues succumbed to radiant shades of amber and gold as frigid temperatures dropped several more degrees. My son Jacob said I looked like a bull with “smoke” surging from my nostrils.
Like any dad lacking common sense, we were under dressed, but we managed. An hour after sunrise the earth began to warm as our backs were the first to feel the sun’s kiss. This spring turkey hunt was shaping up to be one for the books, kill or not.
Daybreak had started with soft, subtle yelps as we listened for gobbles on the roost and the familiar sound of birds flying down to begin their morning routine, but by now the birds had grounded and like with so many previous hunts they were not where I wanted them. The hens had flown down across the river and the toms followed. I still felt confident, intense scouting suggesting they would cycle through our area around mid-morning.
Try as we might, those dang turkeys weren’t cooperating! Mid-morning had come and gone and Plan B was now in force – run and gun. I carried my shotgun, a couple of decoys and nearly everything else to save time while my son followed as best he could carrying only his shotgun and our ThermaCELL unit. As spring turkey hunting goes, mosquitoes are fierce, especially along the river bottom. We made a mad dash along the river some 800 yards away and ducked behind a tree that had fallen during a recent thunderstorm. Read more….