I think I have a new hobby, which may or may not be a good thing. What is it? Turkey hunting.

As most anyone who would be reading this already knows, I drew out for a turkey tag this spring, and boy have I been excited. For the last several months I've been studying and preparing; after all, turkey hunting isn't like pheasant or grouse hunting, where you walk through a field hoping to flush one and shoot it on the fly. Turkey hunting is more like elk hunting--you find out where they are, do some calling and hope to get one to come in close enough to shoot.

When I first found out I had the tag I started studying turkey hunting methods and tactics; I ordered some calls and practiced. Christine sure has been patient with me. For months now she has been subjected to yelps, cuts, putts, and purrs whenever I am home. Not only that, she was good enough to make me some special clothes for my hunt. That's because turkeys have incredibly good eyesight, so good camouflage is important. Well, I got looking at camo patterns and the one I decided I wanted doesn't make pants for tall people. They only go to an inseam of 32" and I needed 36". Fortunately, the company sells fabric by the yard, so we found a pattern and ordered some fabric. Christine was able to make me some pants and a jacket for less than it would have cost to buy one shirt.

So, with my calls and camo ready, I needed to prepare the gun. Dad let me borrow his new goose gun and I bought a special choke tube and turkey shells. I went out a couple times and practiced and figured out I would have a pretty good pattern out to about 45 yards, but at half that distance the pattern is so tight I could easily miss the bird completely, so I would need to be careful.

As the hunt drew closer, the more excited I got. I don't think I've ever been so worked up about anything. I became all fidgety and nervous and couldn't sit still. I'd get thinking about the possibility of getting a turkey I would get so excited I could hardly think of anything else. And then I would think of the possibility of not getting a turkey I would get depressed and not be able to think of anything else. I dreamed about turkey hunting both day and night.

Finally, the day came. Dad had arranged a few places for us to try (it was a private land tag), and was going to take some time off work to go with me. He couldn't go the first morning, however, so I patiently waited through that day. He could go that night, though, so we did. We saw one bird on the other side of the river but that was it. Back came the depression, thinking I would never get my bird.

We decided we would try again on Wednesday (yesterday), and the place we were going to try looked really promising. Back came the excitement--I was sure I would have a trophy turkey by the end of that day.

I don't know how I slept that night, but Wednesday morning finally came. I double and triple checked my gear, making sure I had the gun, shells, license, camo, pocket knife, and anything else I might need, and we headed out. Just as it was starting to get light we hit the property we were going to hunt and, wouldn't you know it, there was a gobbler walking across the road in front of us. Dad told me to just get out and shoot it, but that wouldn't be any fun. Besides, if I got out it would take off and I wouldn't get a shot. So we drove past it and up the road a ways and I got out and got set up. I set up my decoy and nestled back into some brush and started calling. At first there wasn't any response, but then I heard a gobble off in the distance. It was a different bird than the one we first saw and was coming from a different direction. I kept calling to it, listening to it's gobbles as it slowly worked its way to me. The morning may have been a little chilly, but I think my shaking hands were mostly due to nerves. I could hardly sit still, but that is exactly what I needed to do.

Eventually I could tell I had three different gobblers coming in to my position. Two from my left, and one from in front and off to the right. The two on my left got there first. After a while of not hearing anything I was started by a gobble right in my ear. I slowly turned and saw through the bushes the two turkeys that had come in from my left. I stopped calling and waited. The two turkeys slowly made their way in front of me, towards my decoy. They seemed to hesitate a couple times and almost turned around before they came out from behind the brush and into my shooting lane. I wasn't sure if they would ever get there, but eventually they did. They weren't strutting, so I couldn't see their tails to see if they had a good fan or not, so I picked out the one with the bigger beard and aimed at him. By this time I was shaking so badly I just knew I would miss. And besides that, real live turkeys move around a lot more than the paper ones on my practice targets. I finally decided that if I was going to get one I would just need to shoot. I did, and down went the bird. It wasn't a great shot. I hit it in the wing, instead of the head where I was aiming.

It's not a great bird. It has an 8 1/2 inch beard with 7/8 inch spurs. It is missing three feathers from it's tail (I'm sure that is my fault, but I looked and couldn't find the other pieces, which I expect would have been there had I shot them), but it is my first turkey. Perhaps next year I'll keep the tail intact.