What a week chasing Old Tom! A feeling of relief and extreme excitement came over me this morning. My first turkey, one I will never forget and always respect was finally mine. This was my first year turkey hunting, and certainly won't be the last. I spent countless hours scouting and hunting this particular Tom. Nearly every morning and evening for the last week was spent watching, waiting, wondering... I saw him and heard him but always seemed to slip away. Hunting is a humbling experience - there is nothing easy about it. It takes patience, skill, and perseverance. Put in your time, do your homework, and you gain the skills and knowledge to be a better hunter.
I am by no means an expert hunter. To tell you honestly, I'm a novice. I deer hunted as a kid with my uncles, and they put me in a ground blind... and I waited for a deer. BANG... no deer. She was a big doe. She fell to the ground in a heap - probably from the shock of a 12 gauge slug hitting her at 20 yards. She rose after what seemed to be 15 seconds. I sat in awe; heart pounding. She turned tail and ran away. I tracked her as far as the blood would lead, but I lost her. I felt bad. I don't like to wound animals. I really don't prefer to hurt anything, no matter how large or small. But I see a true difference between hurt and harvest. I wasn't ready to harvest that animal. Sure I hurt her, it wasn't my intent, but that was a lesson I had to learn.
Hunting is filled with these lessons. Every day I go out, I ask to be taught a new lesson or experience something new. No matter how small, I ask for something. Almost every time, I come away with something new. It's amazing. It is a journey - one with many roads, a lot of what-ifs. If I don't feel like I learned a new lesson by watching a group of turkeys for four hours until dark, I'll usually see other beautiful animals carrying about their business such as pileated woodpeckers, common birds, several variety of ducks, geese, deer, coyote, weasels, and many more. But really, I did learn lessons. Lessons about nature cycles, habits, interconnectedness, and peace.
This morning... The sun breaking the distant horizon, glowing amber and red fading into the midnight blue. Bullfrogs croak, breaking the dark night's silence. Blackbirds chirp, signaling the coming of dawn. It was time. The first gobble resonated from the trees above. It had power and depth. You could feel it in the base of your throat. The Tom I had been chasing for the past week was within 40 yards of our location. He was awake, and we were setup in the perfect location. The scouting I had done the entire week, and the night before was critical. I knew where he was, and knew his habit - it was the lesson I learned, and what I experienced the entire week. I moved my gun to a more ready position just before the first gobble. I think instinctively, I knew it was time.
Stan whispered from a neighboring tree to move my gun to the other side of the tree where I was sitting. I did. A minute passed, and it was getting lighter. The tree root was digging into my hip, I had to move. I shimmied my way around the tree, Stan whispered to move a little further and get in front of the tree. I was nervous about spooking the birds still on the roost. I moved quietly, and my mild discomfort was eased by the new position. The new position was like a cradle, holding me gently. It felt right, as though it was meant for me. I clicked off the safety, which luckily didn't make the slightest click. My gun shouldered and my eye ready to look down the barrel. I was ready.
As gobbling was filling the dank air, we started to hear the first quiet yelps of the hens who had started to fly off the roost. There was now a few birds on the ground, and Stan asked whispering if the Tom had flown down. I shook my head, yes. Even though the Tom I was after was not off the roost yet. Stan replied to the birds with his milky overtones and the 'fly down cackle', beating his hat on his leg to simulate the wing beats. He proceeded with his gentle yelps. 'yep, yep, yep' It was a great sound. He is a great caller.
Gobbling filled the air, and my heart was pumping. It was getting serious. More birds started to fly off the roost and the woods literally came alive. A bird landed about five yards from where we were sitting. Stan thought it was going to be in his lap. We sat motionless. At that moment, my Tom touched down into the field. There he was... In all his God-Given beauty, there he was. The one I had been chasing and longing for all week was 30 yards away, moving right into the woods 20 yards in front of me. Stan continued with a few soft yelps as the woods was alive with turkey. There was movement and noise everywhere. The hens were a little spooked, they knew something wasn't right.
At that moment the Tom moved into a clearing between two trees. My eye was down the barrel looking him straight in the eyes. His red and blue head was remarkable. It was just like I had witnessed the six days prior. And in one pull of the soft trigger, he was down. I don't even remember hearing the gun blast. All I knew was that it was over. My time paid off. My hard work, countless hours, and many lessons later truly paid off.
I owe a great deal of thanks to Stan for his time this morning. He sacrificed a time with his wife and children in the morning, and a few hours of sleep to help me bag my first bird. I will never forget what he did for me this morning. His true passion and knowledge for hunting and the outdoors is a true gift. The guy upstairs was looking out for me, and finally allowed me to harvest this extraordinary animal. If it had been anytime before today, I wouldn't have been ready.
Sometimes we need hard earned success. It makes us better. It shows us the way. This past week was one of those journeys. One I'll never forget. Thanks, Stan.
p.s. Sorry if anyone was offended by bringing the bird into the weight room. The excitement of the harvest was something that needed to be shared.
Eric
). I also felt better than I had in a long, long time. 
