-By Brandon Wikman
Morning sunshine colored the prickly tips of the tall white pines as the morning awakes the forest. I sit, clothed in complete camouflage. My entire body matches the ground floor, scraggly bushes and textured bark of the hardwood oak. I become hidden in the wonders of nature, anticipating a surprise attack upon a mature gobbler.
Motionless, eyes scan, ears listen, and my mind is at ease. I now await the unforgettable bark from the vocals of a savvy bird. The gobble is a sound that serenades my mind, steals my patience, and stirs my soul. The tom’s gobble electrifies the monotonous early morning sounds of the woods. As soon as I hear the wake from his morning roost, I creep into stalk mode awaiting his next move.
My latest adventure takes place in the rolling green meadows and hills of Wisconsin. A bluff region comprised of ancient glacier rubble collected from the northern stretches of Canada. It is a land preserved with sheer beauty and grace. The success of setting your sight upon a wise old tom depends on understanding the tricky terrain. Birds are far too familiar with the jogs of timber, stretches of meadow, and sweeping valleys. I couldn’t help but wait to share a morning with a forest full of fluffy feathers.
Speckles of shattered sunlight trickled upon the breathtaking scene that lay before me. Ancient farmhouses stood lonely, sunk into the endless hills. It was only a matter of time until the turkeys would wake. I dug into my turkey-vest full of thingamajigs and slipped-out a mouth call. The mouth call is the most realistic sounding turkey call on the market. The construction of the sweet-talking manipulating device is built with latex, aluminum, and tape. I slipped the call into my mouth and began to spread chattering yelps across the fertile land.
A gobble broke the silence. I rapidly tested his willpower with bittersweet talk and seducing his lovesick mind. My goal was to suck him away from his flock of hens he flaunted throughout the day and into gun range. With enough convincing and proper turkey etiquette, my hope would come true.
I eased back into the tree allowing my feet to prop comfortably against my footrest. I was both steady and at ease. The sound of busting limbs, noisy wing-beats, and swooshing feathers directed me that my opponent has landed. I called softly with a soothing mix of clucks to acknowledge his acrobatic swoop. He replied. The mature gobbler was definitely convinced he was in lust.
My 12-guage pointed toward the forest’s horizon where my quarry pompously stood strutting his magnificence. As he waddled towards me with his head cocked, feathers spread, and tail sailing high, I readied myself. My heart beat like the wings of a hummingbird. It was an enthusiasm high. My muzzle bounced from uneasy nerves like a dangling leaf in the wind.
My safety pin clicked, eyes squinted, and finger reached for the trigger. My cameraman documented each passing moment with his video camera. He and his equipment were concealed in a hunting blind.
As soon as the turkey stretched his neck looking for his blind date, my instincts jumped the gun, literally. I blasted an intense face-wash full of bb’s into the vitals of the gobbler.
Hunting turkey showcases a wealth of new meanings to be a bird hunter. It’s the significant feelings of coaxing a bird into range and persuading Mother Nature to reverse psychology. Turkey hunting teaches lessons that aren’t found in a book or magazine, but rather in the depths of one’s imagination set forth from all the dreaming beforehand. I urge everyone to test their hunting skills in pursuit of the wild turkey.