America’s largest game bird is a formidable opponent – elusive, suspicious, wary. But is leaving the hunt empty-handed really a loss when there is still so much to gain?

I am still somewhat of a newbie when it comes to turkey hunting. Whether it’s spring or fall, I continue to be at a loss in the turkey woods. It has been just over seven years since I added turkey to my upland repertoire. I have been duck hunting or at least sitting in a duck blind since I was a young boy, and upland bird hunting has been the heart and soul of my travels in the outdoors. However, turkey hunting has completely eluded me.

Turkey hunting has eluded me since day one. I want to see and feel the warmth of the sun as it rises over the trees, to hear gobbling in the far distance and know that with each step my twenty-pound-plus quarry gets closer. I long to feel the wetness from the dew on the grass as I step out to rejoice in my first turkey shot. These experiences would make for a perfect spring morning. I want to sit and reflect on how I came to be at that very place and moment. To understand and appreciate the emotions and excitement of the hunt while gently rolling my hands across the unscrupulous amounts of iridescent feathers of various sizes. I want to spread the fantail out like a deck of playing cards. Then finally, to feel the heft of America’s largest game bird as I walk down a trail, smiling.

Moments Fleeting

The situation has presented itself twice in the same season. That was several years ago, and since then I have not come even remotely close. The first time the opportunity was there, but unfortunately, it fleeted or rather walked by me in a matter of seconds. My inability to quickly bring my 16 gauge up on target was because the shotgun was snagged on the window frame of the ground blind. That’s my excuse and I’m sticking to it. I lost my field of fire in a blink of an eye. Maintaining my composure and excitement not to scare ol’ Tom away, I whispered to Hutch, my hunting partner, to “Take the shot!” He responded, “Are you sure?” I emphasized again with a more forceful whisper “Taaake the shot.”

Hutch ended up taking the shot and killing his first turkey. Shouts of triumph pierced the quiet April morning. I was shaking with adrenaline. We immediately dashed out of the ground blind to see “our” grand prize. Even though I didn’t pull the trigger, I was just as elated as if it would have been me. I was there to experience it with my best friend, and that in and of itself constituted a successful hunt. We quickly retrieved the bird, as there was no time for photos and rehashing the shot. Huddled back in the blind, we watched as several more jakes and toms enter the field across from our small, camouflaged hut. Like the sands passing through an hourglass, each grain was like time standing still. The turkeys would not leave the tree line and cross into what we referred to as “no man’s land”…the kill zone. The three decoys placed in front of us failed to entice them closer and our hunt ended with nothing more to show.

Patience is a Virtue

The next missed opportunity, I will blame on impatience. I was set up in a row of cedars along a well-traveled trail used by turkeys. I had scouted it previously and I knew there were several birds in the vicinity. I was tucked in between two trees. Only forty-five minutes had passed, and I was getting anxious. This was to be my downfall. I had tasted victory with Hutch, and now I wanted it badly. I could hear gobbles in the distance, like whispers in my ears teasing me. Enticing me. The hen decoy was placed about twenty yards down the grassy patch. It swayed back and forth in the wind. Would a stud tom be enticed to move in for a closer look to show off and strut by the provocative dancing?

Time dragged. The gobbles had disappeared. I was becoming even more impatient. An internal struggle was going on in my head. Two imaginary figures sat on each of my shoulders. Each telling me to do something different. Sit and wait. Go and take and look said the other. I eventually gave in to the devilish imp and stood up. I just wanted to peek, down the trail. That was my undoing. Out of nowhere, a curious Jake materialized. He was attempting to get lucky with the gently moving hen decoy. Its deployment was to attract a mature well-seasoned tom, but a young male with a short and scraggly beard would do just fine. I certainly wasn’t going to start being picky at that moment. I know most turkey hunters want long beards that drag and collect dirt particles and spurs or limb hangers as they are called, but I was perfectly fine with what was in front of me. Heck, it could have been a small-bearded hen (legal in Kansas) for all I cared.

The jake was trying to impress the plastic-foamed lady. He was in the process of fanning out his tail when our eyes met. I stood motionless. Empty-handed. The sixteen was leaning against a tree trunk a mere three yards away. The distance could have been three inches, and it would have still been no good for me. That jake knew he had walked into a dangerous situation and just as quickly as the jake appeared, he turned and scurried off to live another day. If I had only waited a few more minutes more, I would have shot my first turkey. At that moment, the white-robed figure appeared on my shoulder and whispered a quote from Aristotle, “Patience is bitter, but its fruit is sweet.” I flicked him off and commenced to gathering up my things. The hunt has ended. Lessons were learned.

Defining Success

Were both incidents failures? Success means different things to different people. It can only be defined personally. The memories and stories that are created as time spent with family and friends or alone in the outdoors is my definition of real success. Will I ever shoot a turkey? I’m not sure. Do I really care? No.

For me, the last several years I have spent dabbling in turkey hunting during both allowable seasons, and each time it has been an adventure that I have enjoyed. I have stood knee high in green fields so lush and surrounded by trees that I have had to stop hunting to just soak in the location. I’ve watched the sunrise from behind thickets of trees, with its rays of red, yellow and orange penetrating the morning hours. The predawn noise of birds chirping, ducks quacking overhead and the rest of the land awakening with its own sounds. Every so often, a distance gobble would bring me back to focus on my goal. All these experiences have been memorable, but the one constant thing lacking at the end of the hunt, is Meleagris Gallopavo – a turkey.

To experience a full strutting tom, and nervously wait for natures butter ball to curiously come into range so I can pull the trigger, would be nothing short of grand. But in the meantime, I will piece together my visual storyboard of moments and memories in the field of searching for tom turkey. It could be as simple as an old fence post that makes for a useful place to hang and lean things on, such as my shotgun, to seeing the wonders of what spring brings every year – new life.

I will continue my search for the elusive bird. The gobbler that haunts me in the early mornings and evenings, as well as in my dreams. Always out of my grasp and the effective range of my sixteen-gauge shotgun. The turkey is a formidable opponent. Suspicious and cautious about its surroundings. Ever wary. I am ready to answer the question if asked if I have had a successful turkey season? I will respond with a smile and quick, “Why, yes I have.”

About the Author

Edgar Castillo is a recently retired law enforcement officer for a large Kansas City metropolitan agency. He also served in the United States Marine Corps for twelve years. Edgar was born in Guatemala, and when his family came to the U.S., his father, a new bird hunter himself, would take Edgar afield in search of roosters and bobs. Edgar’s passion lies in the uplands as he self-documents his travels across public lands throughout Kansas and the U.S., hunting open fields, walking treelines and bustin’ through plum thickets in a never-ending chase to hunt wild birds in wild places.

You can follow his adventures on Instagram at @hunt_birdz