Spring turkey hunting has been a passion of mine for years. I like to think that the more I do things, the more experienced I become. But sometimes, familiarity breeds complacency.
I had harvested a number of birds over the years, and a friend's farm in Jo Davies county in Illinois, just a couple hours from my home promised another giant turkey. Jo Davies is one of the most successful deer and turkey counties in Illinois. I was looking forward to an easy hunt. I had deer hunted there before and knew the land. Not too steep. Didn't have to hump too far. My 10 gauge Browning BPS was in its alternate role as a turkey gun, since goose season was long over. I use a soft padded sling to soften the jolt on my shoulder from this beast while walking. I also installed a Pachmayr Triple Magnum Decelerator recoil pad on this pump gun to lessen the recoil of 2 ounces of #4 lead from a 31/2" shell. With shirt sleeves, three rounds is plenty. It is brutal when backed up sitting in front of a tree, but when aiming on a turkey you certainly don't feel it or even think about it.
I got back in tune with my favorite diaphragm calls and old box call, chose my camo and packed up my tic repellent for another jaunt in God's great outdoors. Then I had a thought…maybe My Shirley would like to go! This time I was going to stay in an old dilapidated pop up camper on the property and could start hunting right outside my door! And if My Shirley wanted to come, we might as well bring the dog! So we packed up all three of us and drove out with expectations of a lovely two day vacation for My Shirley and Radical Lee von Dundee, our Shorthair, and a couple days of hunting for me.
We arrived on Friday night. It was storming and very cold. The camper had seen better days. It looked like it belonged in a snuff film, or at least a comedy. Someone should have burnt it down years previously. It would've burned well, with all the convenient ventilation holes and mouse nests. Rad was in heaven with all the new creatures to sniff out. My Shirley, not so much. We brushed the rodent crap off what remained of the mattress, piled on our bedding, and tried to sleep. Wind howling, dog howling, wife howling. She was expecting a bit more of a Hiltonesque experience, apparently. Even the dog wasn't happy. Eventually we slept, all three of us on this shredded, rat crap infused padding. Comfortably.
The problem was that when my alarm went off at zero dark thirty, I was way too comfortable to get out of bed. It was a lot colder than the night before, and it was still raining hard. My Shirley really smells great up close. So does the dog. I hit the snooze. A few times. I let the dog out to pee. He came back in right away, soaking wet and muddy. Nice beast that he is, he shook violently, shocking us with icy drops of water. We all got back under the covers for a couple more hours. Not a really successful hunt. Never made it out the door.
It stopped raining in the afternoon, about the time you had to get out of the turkey woods. We managed to start a fire for some burgers, and beer tastes good whether you're working hard or not. I would do better the next day.
But when morning came, I hit the snooze again. And again. Man, that woman and that dog felt good. I eventually got out the door, but holding Radical Lee back while closing the door was almost impossible. His howls when he saw me leave wearing camo and a gun were eardrum shattering. Not just for My Shirley and me, but all the turkeys within a few square miles. Shirley said he never shut up until I got back. I know this because I listened to his shrieks carry through the woods to the bottom of the swamps, to the base of the tree where I was sitting. I even occasionally heard My Shirley's impassioned screams for dog silence.
I called in a hen that morning, and I watched her putt around me for a half hour, sometimes within 20 feet, until she strutted off, looking for adventure.
For the three of us, our adventure was over. We packed up and left a bit turkey poor, but wiser for the effort.
By the way, the next time I feel like offering a spot for a wife and a dog on a turkey hunt, I'll think twice.
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