At 4:30 I was awake to the sound of my alarm going off. I pull myself out of the sleeping bag and flip the switch on the alarm. The sound of the alarm stops and quiet comes back to the car. I lay back down and listen. All I hear is the buzzing of the power lines and the far off sound of the creek as it cascades down hill on its long march to the ocean. I reach around and find the cool metal feel of my flashlight. I turn it on and a its soft beam dances around the back of our van. I reach over and grab the camo that I plan to wear today. I slowly put it one as my dad does the same. There will be no breakfast today. Maybe if we are really lucky we can eat in a caf� some were after bagging a turkey.
I slowly get out of our truck and the cool night air fills my lungs and breathes energy back into my body. I slide the shotgun out of its case and make sure that the chamber is empty. My dad closes the back of the van and we are ready to go.
The canyon we are planning to hunt is very steep with a small bench about 50 by 100 yards. Our plan is to set up on the bench and hope that the turkeys will work their way up the hillside towards us. If we are lucky I can lure a bird into range of our shotguns.
We slowly head down hill being sure to make as little noise as possible. We don�t talk much and arrive at the location were we have planned to set up. I set up my decoys in an open spot and lean up against a tree. After five minutes of waiting I hear the far off sound of a gobbler. Then another and another. I start calling but the toms seem to be perfectly happy with the hens that they already have. I suddenly realize that the birds will go up on the other side of the bench far out of range for our shotguns.
We must move in order to get a bird. I slowly stand and signal for my dad to do the same. As quietly as humanly possible we work our way over to the other side of the bench. In order to minimize movement I decide that I will not set up the decoys. I sit down and my dad does the same. After several minutes of sitting I spot three turkey marching up the hill headed directly for our last set up location. I give a few soft calls but the birds have another place in mind. Suddenly a head pops up at 40 yards and looks around. The head is extremely red and I realize that I was looking at a tom that is within shooting range. My gun was already at my shoulder and I was ready to shoot. But something held me back. Instead I let out a small purr and then went silent. Suddenly the head dropped down and the bird was out of sight. I thought that my only chance at a turkey was gone. I gave a few more calls but I knew that the tom was henned up and did not want to risk confrontation with another tom.
I let out a few more calls and that�s when I saw them. I was to close for him to ignore. I had entered his zone, his area and now he was looking for me. I fell silent on the calls and I watched him looking. He was looking for that hen who�s rude silence he could not ignore. They marched up the hillside straight at us 13 of them 11 hens, 1 jake, and the tom. The kept on coming until they were 5 yards away. Suddenly panic swept through me. They were going to walk around the other side of the juniper tree I was sitting next to. There was no way I could shoot without being detected. I couldn�t believe this there were 13 turkeys 5 yards away and I wasn�t going to get off a shot. I gave a final last ditch effort to get that tom. I gave a soft purr. Suddenly the tom�s head shot up. He started sneaking in my direction his head was down and he was searching for that rude silent hen. Right around the tree he came until his neck was perfectly in line with the barrel. I was amazed that I was not shaking but I rarely do when shooting at game. I pulled the trigger and the bird collapsed. Panic spread through the rest of the flock as they burst into the air. I ran out to pick up my bird but he gave a final flap of his wings, which was just enough to get him moving on the 45-degree slope. He started rolling faster and faster as I madly chased after him. Luckily I had the foresight to pump my gun and eject the two remaining shells in my gun before running. Thoughts were running through my head that if the bird made it to the bottom of the valley we would never find it in the heavy timber. Luckily it came to crashing halt as it smashed into a fallen tree. He was stone dead.
And that was how I bagged my first turkey. He was a Merriam with an 8-inch beard and with � inch spurs. On later examination it was measured that I had killed him at 15 feet. I will take many more turkeys in my lifetime some of which I am sure will be larger but that bird will be the greatest trophy of them all. I will also remember the great time that I had with my dad on that hunt and perhaps the great biscuits and gravy I had for breakfast.
