Turkey Success

Last year, Seth was on his way to winning a North Carolina state championship in lacrosse with Northwest Guilford High School.  Seth is just like any other high school teenage boy.   School, sports, work and girls occupy his time.  This year, Seth detoured from his routine.  Prior to the lacrosse season, he injured his leg.  Sports would take a back seat.  When one door shuts, another opens.

Seth’s family has loved the outdoors and hunting; particularly bowhunting.  Seth’s father David works with Gander Mountain.  Seth and his brothers have taken swans with the bow and bowfish regularly.  With the injury and the extra time Seth normally does not have, he figured this may be the year to hit the field during turkey season for a change.

Seth’s younger brother Matthew would get the first opportunity at a turkey this season.  Matthew is under 16 years old, allowing him to hunt during the youth only day.  Matthew had an exciting day, getting a tom to come in close for a shot.  Matthew used a guillotine broadhead.  The guillotine is specifically designed with four long blades used to cut the turkey’s neck.  Unfortunately, Matthew connected on the tom’s chest, and the arrow simply bounced off.

On the regular opening day of turkey season, Seth would get a late start.  The hunt was more of a spur of the moment decision.  Seth and his girlfriend Brittany would head to one blind and set up, while his father and brother Austin would set up in another.  He quickly placed the decoy his father had made and waited in the blind.

About an hour had passed as Seth and Brittany were playing games on the cell phones.  There was no action in the field.  It was getting late and boredom was setting in.  Out of the corner of Seth’s vision, he spotted some movement.  A strutting tom!

Brittany was beside herself.  She had never been close to a live wild turkey.  The noises were unique and strange.  The tom thumped, gobbled and flared his tail feathers.  He was not real happy to see the strange bird occupying his territory.  Seth too was overcome with excitement.  He quickly grabbed his Matthews Monster with 64 pounds of draw weight.  He was not using a guillotine like his brother.  He was using a Rage 3 blade expandable broadhead.  This is designed to fly true and open the blades upon impact with the target.

Seth drew back the arrow and released.  The bird jumped.  It was a clean miss.  Seth could not even recall whether he aimed at the bird.

Fortune was with Seth.  The gobbler just grew angrier and flared his tail once again.  It approached the decoy once more, this time attacking it without abandon.  Seth reached for another arrow to nock.  The dominant tom began ripping feathers from the decoy.  Seth’s mind raced with emotion, thoughts and concerns.  First, if he did not shoot this turkey quickly, his father was going to be furious.  The spurs were shredding the decoy.  Again, this decoy was made, not bought.

Second, this was his chance.  The bird did not scare off.  It was only 10 yards away.  This would be his first big game animal taken with the bow.  His girlfriend was beside him witnessing the hunt; experiencing the hunt.  The defining moment was now.

Lastly, he had to calm himself down.  Adrenaline could do strange things.  Accustomed to pressure from sports, including the pressure associated with winning a state championship, Seth’s adrenaline allowed him to think quickly and maintain control.  He took a deep breath.  He visualized the vital area available at the angle the gobbler was situated.  Then he released his second arrow.

The bird dropped.  No flutter.  It just dropped.  Seth started out of the blind.  The bird jumped, running…no staggering sideways.  The tom toppled over.  Its wings flapped as it tumbled.  Seth was not going to let the bird get away and then…

It fell one more time.  It was down for good.  Brittany had tears in her eyes.  Not from the death, but from the sheer excitement and emotion involved.  Seth assessed the situation.  It was over.  He had taken his first turkey.  He took it with a bow, with someone he cares about experiencing it with him.  He missed his senior year of lacrosse, but he made memories anyway.

The tom measured 7/8in spurs, 10 ½in beard and weighed 21 pounds.

Turkey Hunting - Part 1



My hand and Chuck Norris' hand.

It is called hunting and not killing for a reason.  Chuck Norris may go killing, but the only thing I have in common with Chuck is our hand size.  Hunting has a number of variables that you may never think will come into play.  Through scouting, patterning, and general species education and knowledge, you can put yourself in the best situation, but one moment of something completely unexpected can alter the outcome completely.



For the last few years I have sought the elusive Eastern Wild Turkey with the bow.  Up until last year, I had been the general proximity of a tom, but not nearly close enough to take one.  Then last year, I learned a valuable lesson while hunting the bearded bird.  Patience is a virtue.  If you have read my columns in the past, you may remember the story of my lack of patience causing me to miss getting a shot at turkeys on three different occasions.  I was determined it would not happen that way this year.

I usually miss opening weekend of turkey season.  My wife and my daughter celebrate their birthday that same weekend, so I usually will schedule a hunt the next weekend.  Of course, the birds a little more seasoned by that time, as they have dodged shotgun blasts and arrows for a week up to that point.  This season, my female family members headed to the coast leaving me to watch the boys.  It also gave me a chance to go out on a Sunday bowhunt.  Not opening day, but close enough.

Now the story that follows may at times seem far-fetched.  Much like the old fisherman that swears he had a 10 pound bass hooked until he tried to pull it in the boat, the story could easily qualify as an exaggeration, if it were not completely true.  By the way, when you hear the fish tale, the question is always asked “how do you know it was 10 pounds?”  The response is always the same…"Cause it has scales!"

The hunt began as planned.  I re-fletched some arrows earlier in the week and practiced with them through the week.  Groups were tight for 40 yards in my practice sessions, even after doing some long hikes before the sessions.  From distances of 50 to 70 yards, groups were not as tight, but were falling in a 6 inch circle steadily.  This is great for elk hunting, but I would never take that shot at the minute vitals of a turkey.  A turkey has two kill spots with a bow.  The first is the heart / lung shot.  The second is the neck.  The neck shot is usually done with a broadhead called a Guillotine.  The Guillotine is designed with extra long blades made for cutting the neck.  The heart / lung shot is performed with a regular broadhead used for any big game hunting.  I was using a regular broadhead.

Saturday I put my gear together, checking everything to make sure it was ready.  I cleaned my decoys consisting of two hens and a jake (a young male).  I made sure I had extras of my vital gear such as arrows, broadheads, bow release, and batteries.  I charged my cell phone and my two cameras I was carrying with me.  I sprayed my hunting clothes with permethrin to barricade my body from ticks, chiggers, and other insects.  I made a packed breakfast and lunch.  I would be there for the duration for this hunt.

Sunday morning I was on the road at 3:30am.  The hunting destination was several hours away and I wanted to be there before sun-up.   I met the land owner at the gate.  We drove about one mile into the area and he unlocked a second gate.  The path was well worn with numerous mud holes and wallows.  About 500 yards in was a box deer blind at a path crossroad.  He advised me to set up with the box blind to my back.  He had seen the turkeys use the crossroad in their routes from their roost to the fields.  He also informed me of a small path about 200 yards away from the blind where I could park the truck after dropping off my gear.  Both were good information.

After dropping everything at the blind and parking, I set up the 3 decoys.  I tried to set them up so 2 would be seen from each of the paths at all times.  The decoys were all set between 10 and 15 yards from my Ameristep Doghouse blind I had positioned next to the tower box blind.

Just after sitting, I hit the mouth call with two series of clucks.  I listened and watched.  No gobbles anywhere.  I glanced behind me down the path and watched a large tom flew down from his roost on the left to the path about 150 yards away.  This was going to be a good hunt!

Not 30 seconds later, a small jake joined in behind the big gobbler.  Both were making a steady walk my way.  They were not running, but they were keeping pace.  Two hens then exited the woods from the right about 30 yards behind them.  My first thought was the hens would likely turn my birds around.  Fortunately they did not.  I kept quiet and patient.  I would have a shot soon enough.

My blind was positioned where I could shoot to my left, front and right.  My rear had a sight window but would not offer a shot due to the box blind.  After videoing the birds, I set my chair to the right rear corner of the blind.  I moved into position on the right front corner allowing me to draw my bow and take an angled shot through the window opening as the bird came into range.  I counted the pace of the big gobbler, and so I figured he would be near the window around the count of 15.  I drew the bow at 10.  He never appeared.  I let off the bow and checked his location.  He had turned and headed back down the path.  After he and the group were about 100 yards away, I proceeded to hit the call once more.  They turned, and began their second approach.  This time, they turned about 20 yards behind me into the woods to the left.  I was not worried.

I figured with the turn they would likely come out to the right side of the blind.  I backed against the left wall and waited.  After about a minute the big one showed himself.  I took a deep breath, released about half the air, and drew back the 70 pounds of death.  Then they flew.  In an instant it was over.  The birds were gone.  In a millisecond I had several thoughts run through my mind.  Did they spot me?  Did they hear me?  What could have spooked th…e…m…

5 yards from where they were standing a large black bear made his way out of the woods.   This was only 20 yards from me.  I never thought about any danger from a bear / human episode.  All I thought about was this bear just blew my best chance I have ever had at a turkey with the bow.

It was ok though.  I had just witnessed 4 turkeys and a black bear in the first 10 minutes of a hunt.  There is nothing like nature.  This hunt was far from over!  And next week, we will cover the rest…

Suckers are a Sign

It is a sign of spring.  Sure, the dogwoods and Bradford pears begin to bloom.  The grass begins to grow.  And certainly, it is just a matter of days, not weeks, before everything begins to collect a hazy yellow film from the pollinating pines and other plants.  But to me, at least as of the last few years, the true sign of spring is when the sucker fish begin their spawn.

In a manner not unlike the great salmon of Alaska, the sucker fish will make their way upstream to an ancient spot that many, many generations have congregated throughout the centuries.  They flap on top of the water as they squirm over shallow runs, depositing their eggs and secretions along the way.  Often, if you are lucky enough to time the event, it usually lasts only a week or so, you can catch dozens upon dozens rolling amongst each other in their annual dance.

Of course, being one fond of the outdoors and bowfishing, this ignites the inner spirit within me.  No longer must I brave the cold, the biting wind, and the other wintery elements nature has to offer.  While I do enjoy it, the seasons remain in motion for a reason.  They keep us from the having a passion that grows too monotonous to continue.  The seasons pass so that we have something to look forward to as new challenges and adventures await.

Yes, as the sucker fish work their way over distances, I envision myself as hunters of days passed.  Much like the Native Americans hundreds of years ago must have done, I ready the draw on my bow, though it is much more technologically advanced than the ones used then, and release an arrow toward the golden fish.  My arrow contains a string and barbed point.  Theirs were likely longer arrows without a tether.  Many used sharpened sticks to gig the fish instead.  The suckers provided nourishment and an easy catch during the spawn.  The suckers do the same now as well.

Last year my daughter was fortunate in taking a sucker fish as her first animal with the use of a bow.  She did it on the last day we were able to attend the spawning affair.  In the process, she held the North Carolina State bowfishing record for youth female.

This year, she was anxious and willing, and we were able to get out the creekside once again.  I also held the overall North Carolina bowfishing record at 5 pounds 14 ounces.  On the first night, I was able to bring in a nice 6 pounder.  Officially measured, it came up to 5.99 pounds.  Since the weights are not measured in hundredths but rather ounces, it temporarily breaks my old record by 2 ounces.  After a busy day of birthday parties and dancing recitals, I was able to take Julianne back out.  I would guide her, hoping it would not take the hundreds of shots it took the previous year before the hit was made.

Using a LED Lenser headlamp, I searched the shallows and the running waters.  She had taken a couple of shots, just missing each time.  Then, about 10 yards away, there was a flurry of motion as several fish climbed, wallowed, and rubbed over each other.  She pulled back the bow, and before I could finish the statement ‘shoot when you are ready’, she released the biting arrow.

Yes, she hit her mark and the arrow’s barbed point held the fish tight.  We were able to pull it to the shore moments later.  Official weight: 6.01 pounds.  Luckily for me, it gets rounded off to 6 pounds and 0 ounces.

Now, at least for the time being, Julianne and I will share the state record.  That is until someone else is able to find the ancient spawning runs and share an experience with the spirits of old.

Through a Child's Eyes

North Carolina offers youth days for hunting some species each season.  It gives the youth a chance to go out and have an adult guide them through a hunt, allowing only the child to take a shot.  April 2 is youth day for turkey.  Bearing that in mind, I feel obligated to share a story a new friend, Chase Shepherd shared with me.

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I closed my eyes while my dad smeared camouflage face paint on my forehead.  “Just hold still.  We’re almost done,”  he whispered.  I was ready for the hunt to begin.  I loaded my gun, strapped on the gun rest, and put on my hat.  "Got everything?" Dad whispered.

"Yeah," I replied, while I too, was in a whisper.

We started walking back to the area my dad picked to hunt.   "Today’s the day you’re killin’ a turkey," Dad whispered.

"I hope so" I whispered back.

My dad stopped about five minutes later and whispered, “Go sit at that tree, I’m gonna’ set up the decoys."

"Okay," I replied.



I did my best walking over, trying not to make any noise.  I finally stopped at the tree and watched my dad set up the last decoy.  It was still dark out so we had enough time to sit down and get comfortable.

Dad sat down first, and then I sat down in between his legs.  He set his gun up against the tree and then instructed me to practice aiming on the decoys.



The sun just started to rise, and all I heard was gobbling.  It was crazy!  Then my dad started calling.  He did some average hen calls, and that’s when he whispered, “Don’t move!”   My mind started racing!  Is this really going to happen?  Is it a big one?  Am I ready?  I started to shake as I glanced over.  It was a big tom, beard dragging the ground, walking back and forth.  “Don’t move,” Dad whispered again.

Then the turkey heard a hen across the creek behind us, and never came in.  I was devastated.  When all of the sudden, “Here comes two more!" Dad whispered.  It wasn’t over yet.  My heart started pounding once again.  The two turkeys were running to us!  I gripped the cold metal of my gun.  Then they jumped up, and started attacking our decoy, they were flying in the air, and hitting it with their spurs.

I pulled the trigger, but not hard enough.  Since the gun didn’t fire I had to wait for another open shot.

Finally the time came.  One of the turkeys stopped, and stared right at us.  This time I squeezed the trigger, and the turkey dropped.  My dad shot at the other turkey, but it was flying and he missed.

We stood up and started high-fiving and fist-bumping.



Chase Shepherd with his first turkey.

"You smoked him buddy!" Dad exclaimed.

Then we walked over to claim my trophy.  When we got there we exchanged high-fives again.  "You killing a turkey means more to me than me killing one," Dad said.

When we got back to the truck, we started to take pictures.  Some were with Dad’s cell phone and others with the digital camera.

That was the greatest day of my life.  It was exciting, fun, and most of all...an adrenaline rush.

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I believe Chase gives us an inside look at how a child feels sharing the outdoors with his parent.  It is a memory that will last long after his dad can no longer go out in the fields, yet it is also a memory he will surely share with his kids in the future.  I am also sure if you asked Chase’s dad about that day, he too would agree it was one of the greatest days of his life as well.


Bill Howard is a Hunter Education and Bowhunter Education Instructor , a Wildlife Representative and BCRS Program Chairman for the North Carolina Bowhunters Association, and an avid outdoorsman.  Please forward any pictures or stories you would like shared to billhowardoutdoors@gmail.com.