Dad Win

If you’re not taking a loss every now and then, you’re not trying.  We learn the most from our mistakes and should try to apply that new found knowledge to avoid similar situations in the future.  I’ve taken my fair share of lumps and have more to come as I don’t plan to give up anytime soon.  But let me tell you, when it all comes together and you get that big W, damn does it feel good.  This Spring a big win came my way with my son and I still haven’t come down yet. 

One heck of a trophy shot for this young hunters first turkey!

We’ve been taking an annual turkey hunting and fishing trip the last 4 years together.  I’ll rent a cottage on a lake about 10 minutes from my property in Michigan and just he and I go up to spend some time together before his life gets too busy and we miss out on these chances.  Thanks to the Michigan Mentored Youth Licenses he gets to enjoy a majority of the hunting and fishing seasons for one low price.  Of course, I have to be there with him, but that’s the real point in my opinion.  I leave any scheduling or firm plans behind and let him call the shots on the trip.  He gets to pick out our food selection and when and what we do.  I press him a little to ensure we get out into the turkey woods early on Saturday morning, but that’s about it.  

Having little success in actually bagging a bird over the last few years we’ve had some great moments.  Last year we had an amazing conversation with at least one gobbler, calling him in from a distance until he hung up on the neighbors property.  The tom gobbled and gobbled bringing a smile to our face each time.  Enthusiastically he agreed we would take the trip again this year.  

The first evening was just what I had hoped.  A chat filled truck ride up and plenty of fish biting.  Starting with our goal of filling up the fish basket we went to bed happy and eager for the morning hunt.  He was a little less eager when I woke him up at 5 AM but he fought through the grogginess and we were soon on our way.  The grass was getting tall so I wanted to hunt in an area near some mowed fields, dense woods, and an old logging road.  We didn’t venture too far from the gravel road leading to the property as the turkeys often liked to dust and fill their crop there as they went along their daily survival routine.      

A neighboring property owner had alerted me to the fact that the turkeys had gone silent but were still coming into the call.  His specific instructions were to keep our heads on a swivel.  He wasn’t wrong.  For most of the morning I would call out every 15 or 20 minutes and sit back and wait.  Thinking I caught some movement at one point we were on heightened alert for a short 15 minute window.  Then it was back to my son sleeping in his chair and me constantly scanning. 

A text soon rang in with the other neighbor informing me that he could see 3 turkeys in front of my truck through his security camera.  Immediately hitting a calling sequence we were once again on high alert.  I knew they could hear me as we were within 150 yards of my truck.  Soon the anxiousness passed as it was clear they weren’t going to come running in.  As I expected around 8:35 I got the “Dad, I think I’m ready to go”. 

Knowing I was now on a short timer I asked if we could stick around for 20 minutes and then we’d head out.  He agreed and having nothing to lose I started calling more aggressively and mixing it up with different pot calls to give the impression there were multiple birds at my location.  Eventually, my 20 minutes was up and I began slowly gathering my gear and placing it in my backpack.  Cole stood from his chair knowing it was time to leave.  

“Dad!  There’s a turkey.”

“What?”

“There is a turkey.”

“Where?”

“It was right there in front of us.”

“I don’t see anything.”

“It’s behind that fallen tree.”

Then, as a gift from God, from behind the trunk of a snapped over tree stepped a jake.  It stood at maybe 20 yards staring at the decoy.  I asked Cole if he wanted to shoot it but he hesitated.  Turns out his brief pause was just what the ole gobbler that was accompanying the jake needed to coax him into the open.  That’s when the chaos ensued.  A hasty shot was fired which may or may not have hit the turkey.  In an unexpected move the tom flew right towards the blind.  So close that I was wondering if there would be room for all three of us in the blind.  Once he landed though there was no mistaking whether or not the second shot connected.  

 I’m not sure who was more excited that morning, the hunter or dad?

Having just completed his first successful turkey hunt, both of us were in pure astonishment.  The three hour eventless wait was over in about 10 seconds.  Once we both realized what had just happened the smiles on both our faces told the rest of the story.  We hugged, high fived, hugged and kept repeating “I can’t believe that just happened”.  

Wanting him to get the full effect I sent him out to retrieve his trophy.  Unsure at first what to do when he walked up to the dead turkey, I urged him to pick it.  Struggling mightily with the weight of the large gobbler, eventually he hoisted it up for the world to see.  In that instance, it was our world, just the two of us and this gift from nature.  

He struggled to get this bird out but I wanted to make sure he got to live the whole experience. 

Still oh high, with the bird slung over his shoulder, he wobbled and stumbled his way back to the truck.  Together we cleaned the turkey on the tailgate going back through the excitement of the hunt.  With a good portion of the day still ahead of us we went back to the cottage to finish filling the fish basket.  Before drowning any more worms, celebratory chili dogs were on the menu.  With renewed energy more fish were caught, a nap was slipped in, and supper at our favorite restaurant.  Not ready to call it a night, we slipped out to the dock one more time.  Luckily we did because we added his largest bass to the day’s resume.  

Not only was the hunt successful but catching his biggest bass to date got checked off on the to do list during this father son getaway.

Sometimes it’s the little things that make all the difference.  Sharing chili dogs after a big day in the field and on the water really capped off the day.

Often, I write about what I felt was the best day ever, until the next best day ever.  This was certainly the best day ever…for now.