I want to tell you a story about the “Wild Turkey Takedown.” The story is simple, but the message is lasting, and it’s certainly one I’ll never forget.
Going All In
If you have children or have younger siblings, then you have likely seen how an infant begins to walk with no regard for danger. For example, when a child stands up and begins to walk toward a porch drop-off or even into a wall.
You could say I was the same way in how I learned to hunt last year. I also got an extra course in bowhunting for beginners!
A non-hunting history
Like Henry Ford said, “If you think you can do a thing or think you can’t do a thing, you’re right.”
A little back story to get started… I am a woman without a childhood of hunting. Although many surrounding my family were hunters, my family was not.
As a child, I always envied the friends I had that would talk about their weekends spent hunting. So, at the start of last year, i got an offer that would change my life. My fiancee’, who has 30 years of deer hunting experience, asked me if I wanted to learn how to hunt. Clearly, I answered yes!
It has been a blur ever since. I have been privileged to no longer be an observer of nature, but instead to interact with it as a part of the life cycle. With many laughs, a few tears of joy, and also some sorrow, I want to tell the story of my very first harvest. For me, this N1 moment locked in my true respect for hunting as well as my ability to be confident and be my own person.
One person asking one question can lead to… hunting!
After coming home from a trip to town, I found myself almost running off the road. Why? Because I saw a field full of wild turkeys, just a mile from my house. Without a second thought, I all but put my truck on two wheels as I whipped into the driveway of the closest house, hoping the owners of the property lived there. I jumped out and to the door I went.
To my surprise, someone answered! Even more surprising was that they gave me permission to hunt the land and the turkeys I had seen!
I jumped in my truck and flew home, grabbing my vest, gun, boots and hunting gear. I came back shortly and struck out to call the turkeys.
Rain cancels the hunt… or not!
Unfortunately, a massive thunder storm rolled in. I was literally about 3 miles back in the woods next to a river, taking shelter under trees and waiting for the lightning to stop. Somehow, I was never once bothered or upset that I just got drenched and had not one turkey to show for it.
And, just my luck, on my way back out of the woods, the tom had come back to the fields I initially saw them in. And, of course, my shotgun decided it did not want to fire. I got to experience for the first time just how well wild turkeys can fly, as they took off running and into flight as I tried to get my gun to fire.
Wild Turkeys come to those who wait?
A few days later, and after doing some scouting, I had identified a turkey roosting location! I decided that I was going to take my bow for the first time. After all, turkeys are just birds, right? It’s not like they could be hard to kill (or so I thought).
The sun was high, the sky was blue, and there was a light breeze that day. Here I was in a backed-up position that I felt would be crossed when the birds headed to roost that evening. My hunch was correct. Soon, I began to hear the turkeys come up the ridge, making racket like a siren in the night.
When they came over the top into view, my body instantly reacted and my heart lost control. It took all I had not to draw my bow as soon as I saw them. The waiting seemed like a lifetime to me. Finally, the turkeys came into range…
I went to full draw. After this moment it was as if I was in auto pilot! When the turkeys were at approximately 20 yards, I released and held my breath. My eyes felt like they were the size of watermelons as the tom I had aimed at was now thrashing and making sounds like a demon. I could see the bright orange and white vanes of my arrow flopping around with his body. Then I realized that instead of dropping, the tom was attempting to take flight! I instantly jumped out of the blind and went rushing to grab him, like a kid at a rodeo chasing the mud-covered hog for a prize.
I had no idea how destructive these birds could be until that thing grabbed me as I grabbed it. From there I can only describe the scene as something out of a movie. I tried to get on top of him to drive the arrow further in and end the situation, but then I realized my shot was far from perfect, landing close to the base of the neck.
It’s a hard concept for some to understand, but as a hunter, I have no joy in killing and truly attempt to make this a swift moment for anything I hunt. I knew that even if he got free, he would suffer and die slowly somewhere so I felt I had only one option. I pulled out a hunting knife I kept in my boot and fought to turn him over. This resulted in in exposing myself to his claws, which to this day have left their marks on my body. After a swift insertion to the proper region, the tom finally relaxed and took its last breath.
I stood up and noticed the blood on me (mine and the bird’s). I was sweaty, covered in grass and breathing heavily. During that moment, I was somewhat conflicted. I was saddened by the death and the thought of causing suffering. But, I was saved by the thought of how nature would have ended the bird’s life via coyote or other predator. This made me feel at peace with what I had just done. I took the tom, and with much effort, slung him over my shoulder. I had just accomplished something massive in life.
Shortly thereafter, I went home and butchered the bird myself and stored up the meat to prepare for future meals. Of course, all after I cleaned and covered the cuts caused by this struggle.
To some, this was some silly bird that should have been left alone. To others and myself, this was a moment that I had to prove to myself. How bad did I want it? What am I willing to chance for it? These are things a childhood of hunting can’t create. The lack of knowledge may have been the key for me. Had I known how much of a struggle I would have faced, would I have jumped out of that blind? Would I have even taken my bow?
Each of us have to remember that we don’t need the approval or recognition of anyone else to do what we desire. On this day, I realized that I didn’t need to meet other hunters’ criteria, I just needed to hunt. On this day I felt capable, independent and able.
I encourage each person to spend less time scrolling and comparing, and more time setting goals that seem insane and remembering to be the positive voice to anyone else who may be needing encouragement. It was just a bow and a bird on the outside, but inside it was the birth of a provider. The serenity in the storm that day and leaving behind the first world problems has been what I continue to seek. Any day in the woods is another day to refine skills that can’t be purchased in a store.
We hunters cannot be duplicated. We are capable and able humans. It’s never too late to do something great. If you haven’t experienced life as a hunter, I urge you to give it a chance. Who knows what’s waiting for you while you sit in the dark, waiting for first light. What will you see in the forest while you’re 35 feet off the ground? And, what will you hear as you control and quiet your breathing to sync with the forest? I can tell you one thing, it’s worth a shot to find out.
By the time I was old enough to say the word “fish,” my Dad was taking me fishing with him (yes, that’s us in the picture above).
And, those trips with Dad turned out to be much more than fishing lessons.
Fishing lessons = life lessons
Fishing was always something I considered fun. I loved the challenge of casting in just the right spot. I loved the feel of that first tug on the line. And, of course, who doesn’t love reeling in fish?
As I’ve gotten older, those memories of going fishing as a kid with my Dad have become even more special. That time with Dad doing a fun activity has impacted me in profound ways.
Lesson #1: Good things don’t always come to those who wait
It’s no secret that fishing is a great way of learning patience. As a kid, if that bobber didn’t go under soon after I casted, I wanted to throw to another spot! Dad would tell me to be patient and just wait.
Of course, many times, my patience paid off and the fish would bite. But, I learned something else that was maybe even more important than patience.
Sometimes, it didn’t matter that we had a great fishing spot (no, I’m not telling you where). It didn’t matter what bait we were using. And it didn’t matter how long I waited. The fish just weren’t going to bite.
I loved going to the spot my Dad and I used to fish (no, I’m still not telling you where). There were just so many places along that creek bank to catch fish.
As I got older and graduated from the red and white round bobber (I still love it though), I would cast my lure to what looked like the perfect spot. Sometimes I’d catch fish, and of course, sometimes I wouldn’t.
But, there just always seemed like a better place ahead to try.
So, I walked a few steps and casted. Then I walked a few more and casted. Before long, I’d look back and realize that I had wandered far from where I first started. I was lost in the moment and couldn’t believe how far I’d gone.
I have learned that life provides you with many opportunities to “drift” in a similar way. Something catches your attention and you chase it. After all, it seems like such a great opportunity. Now, let me say here that I’m all about dreaming big and giving things your all. But, sometimes we are prone to chasing dreams at all costs. We sacrifice precious time with family and friends for the sake things that leave us empty in the end.
I’m learning that I don’t want to be that guy.
I’ve learned you have to be intentional about making sure you don’t drift too far from where you should be. You have to surround yourself with people who will tell you the truth about yourself, good or bad. And, you have to be willing to heed wise advice, even when it’s what you don’t want to hear. In doing so, you can prevent yourself from drifting too far from where you should be and save yourself a lot of heartache and from hurting those you love.
Going fishing with Dad is still helping me learn these lessons many years later.
Lesson #3: When you catch a big one… celebrate!
Catching fish is fun, no matter what size the fish. But, I’d be lying if I said catching a big fish isn’t just a little more fun! It’s amazing how just about anyone can muster up a big smile after they reel in a heavyweight. It makes the fun just a little more fun to celebrate.
Life gives us many reasons to be sad or upset. After all, bad things happen to good people. But, good things also happen to good people. So, just like when you catch a big fish, be sure to celebrate the good times in life!
Call me a neat freak or obsessive compulsive, but I hate a messy tackle box. The fishing supplies have to be organized.
The night before I knew we were going fishing, I would always be certain that all my fish hooks, fishing lures and supplies were neatly tucked away in their designated compartment. (Of course, after a day of fishing, they were right back to being unorganized!)
But, as orderly as I wanted things, I learned there’s one thing a neat tackle box can’t help you with… and that’s not having enough of the lure you need for that fishing trip.
Sometimes on a particular day, the fish just like what they like and nothing else. Hopefully, they like what you have in your tackle box. And, hopefully you have enough of it!
Don’t get me wrong, this is not about neat people being better than messy people. But, I’ve learned that doing your due diligence ahead of time is better than being unprepared.
This applies to just about anything. Of course, you can’t predict the future, and sometimes unexpected things can happen no matter how much you prepare. But, just like with fishing, be as prepared as you can possibly be in all situations. Something BIG just might happen!
Lesson #5: Control what you can control
When I was first learning to fish with Dad, I started with live bait and a fishing bobber. I would watch the bobber intently, hoping to see just the slightest movement or ripple in the water.
But, I am a competitor at heart, and sometimes I would sneak a peek over at my Dad’s bobber. It seemed that every time I did that, I would look back and mine would be nowhere to be found, with a fish on the line! (I guess if the fish aren’t biting, this is a viable strategy. But, I digress).
It’s easy for us to get distracted sometimes. We worry about what others are doing. We worry what they think of us. And, we try to fix others and make them who we think they should be. The problem is that when we do that, we put our focus on things we can’t control.
As I get older, I am learning that I can do very little to change other people. I can’t become exactly like someone else. God made one of me (and one of you). And, while it’s great to have role models and aspire to be strong in areas that others are, we must understand that we are uniquely made. We are custom designed. There will never be another one exactly like us.
So, don’t excuse your weaknesses. Work on them. But, also work to become better at your strengths. You will make much more progress on you than you ever will by trying to change others. And, who knows, you might inspire someone else to be a better them!
Don’t let the lessons end
With all the life lessons I’ve learned from fishing lessons with my Dad, it would be a shame to keep them all to myself. I am inspired to use teachable moments like these in the outdoors to impact the lives of my kids as well. I hope you do the same.
So, whether you hunt, fish or just love being in the outdoors, there are so many great lessons to be learned in the simplicity and wonder of the outdoors.
Deer dogging has been around for many years, and deer hunting with dogs is a tradition in my family that has been passed down from generation to generation.
From a passion to a business
I started White Water Kennels, in Elba, Alabama, in 2014. In the beginning, it was simply a name for my personal hunting dogs kennel. But, over the next several years, it grew into a well-organized group with several members in several states. We take our love for hunting with hounds very personal. We try to develop a dog through a process of training techniques, with very strict guidelines.
A dog is born with a natural instinct to use its nose and to hunt. We simply help the dog reach it’s full potential. And, while there is no perfect dog, we train deer dogs to be the very best they can be. We take pride in what we do and pour countless hours, days, weeks and months into training dogs to become well-developed and experienced hunting and running machines.
Our decision making is based on careful studying of our packs. We have what we call brood males and females that we breed according to what we are wanting to gain in the packs. For instance, if we are wanting to add more trail dogs, then we have certain dogs we breed for that. The same holds true for running dogs.
When puppies are born and ready to train, we put them through a series of training techniques that we developed to see what each dog has to offer. In addition, we determine what areas we need to spend the most time in correcting shortcomings.
The way we look at is, a dog is only as good as it’s owner. The time you spend training a dog will show, as well as the time that is not spent. Because laws are getting very strict in our area on dog hunters, we collar break, whistle break and horn break every dog we produce to a guarantee.
Investing in the dogs = memories waiting to be made
I enjoy watching how well all the guys work together for the benefit of the kennel and the work each one puts in to make White Water Kennels the best it can be. We love each other, the hours spent together, the memories made, and watching young hounds develop and progress through our training techniques.
I strongly encourage anyone who has never hunted with hounds to try it. And, when you do, I believe you’ll feel the thrill that we do every time we dump the boxes. To us, it isn’t about the kill. It’s about the sound of the hound and the race between the dogs and the game. Its’ in our blood, and we’ll love hunting with dogs till the day we die.