Early riser gets the bird

The moon was perched high above, casting long shadows across the front yard. I quickly gathered all the information I needed. The skies were clear, and the limbs silhouetted against the horizon stood motionless. Warm and clear and calm. I shut the alarm off; it would prove redundant. I was up. Soon I would rouse my youngest son Josh from his slumber. This morning he would experience the turkey woods firsthand.

Chasing turkeys is uniquely suited to introducing youngsters to hunting. The weather in April and May is warm in comparison to an October duck hunt or November’s deer season. Additionally, turkey hunting gets the blood pumping. The first time you hear a gobble echoing through the woods, your definition of exciting changes. Immediately you know there is a legal bird within a couple of hundred yards. Certainly, deer can vocalize, but most of the time they don’t alert you to their presence long before they materialize. Young hunters can also learn to communicate with the birds. A few yelps or clucks can convince a turkey to investigate. Because individual turkeys have their own personalities, calling doesn’t have to be perfect to be effective.

One of my favorite parts about turkey hunting with young hunters is sitting side-by-side in a blind. The blind allows us to communicate quietly. I can whisper answers to all the morning’s questions and not worry about birds picking off our location. All our movements — for calling, shifting our feet, sharing a snack — are concealed.

Another aspect of turkey hunting ideal for young hunters is that shots are generally not rushed. If a bird works its way into your decoys, you should have eyes on that bird for a few minutes before it ends up in range. This time allows the shooter to slowly position himself and attempt to calm his nerves. It’s a much different experience than jumping a grouse and trying to get a bead on it as it busts skyward through the aspens, or trying to find a rutting buck in your scope as he bumps a doe through your shooting lane.

Good Friday. I shook Josh’s shoulder more than an hour before legal shooting light. He stared, confused as I loomed over him in full camo. His eyes came alive with a realization: time to hunt. He had his own pile of camo stacked high next to his bed. In short order, he was camoed up and we were out the door.

We had no need for the flashlights we had stowed away. The moon provided plenty of light for us to set our decoys and find our way into our blind. As we settled in, I checked the time: 5:34 a.m. On cue, the first gobbler of the morning sounded off. In front of us, a short flat 50 yards across dropped off into a small ravine.

Somewhere in that ravine or up the next rise, the tom was letting the world know he was awake. Josh turned slowly towards me. His face mask covered all but his eyes. In the darkness of the blind, I could see the excitement all over his face. His body pulsed with adrenaline. I nodded calmly. We sat quietly. The same bird gobbled again. This time another bird echoed back from over our right shoulders. My eyes widened to match Josh’s. We were covered in turkeys. Still dark, we waited. We heard turkeys dropping from their roosts. Their wings made a ruckus as they thudded to the ground. We remained still. We didn’t call. It was an agonizing wait until the sun made its first appearance.

Two minutes into legal shooting light we sent our first calls into the silence. Yelp, yelp, yelp. By the time the last note faded, a thunderous response came from less than a hundred yards behind us. Yelp, yelp, yelp. The bird cut us off before we could finish. He was fired up. We quit calling.

I first caught his movement 70 yards to my right. He was puffed up, strutting back and forth looking for the hen he would never find. The blind and surrounding pines were still dark. Where he strutted, the first rays of the morning illuminated his dance. We sent a couple of quiet yelps his way. He came out of full strut, lowered his head and committed to come closer. He put on a show as he came in and out of strut several times as he approached the blind. Josh was to my left and could not see his approach. I reassured him the bird was still coming and to ready himself for the shot.

As he came to full strut 15 feet to my right, he locked onto the jake and hen decoy positioned in front of our blind. He cut toward them. Josh gasped audibly as the turkey came into his line of sight for the first time. Minutes into his first turkey hunt Josh had a bird in full strut, feathers puffed, tail fanned directly in front of him.

We were well concealed, but the bird grew suspicious of our entire setup. He came out of strut, swirled around and headed out of our life. Josh jumped up and positioned his barrel out my side of the blind. I yelped. The turkey stopped. His curiosity would cost him. A shot rang out. We flipped the blind and ran to the bird. Josh’s body shook.

High fives, hugs, whoops and hollers all came in quick succession. We snapped a few pictures and began texting them off before realizing most of Carlton County was still asleep. Another good thing about turkey hunting with youngsters: you can hunt for a couple of hours in the early morning and still have the rest of the day free. We were back home before the rest of the Baker crew had even stirred.

Bret Baker is a lifetime resident of Cloquet. He is a proud husband, father, educator and outdoorsman. Bret began guiding fishing trips when he was 16 years old. Today, in his 40s, his passion is to introduce people to the tremendous outdoor adventures available in our region.