I've got an anniversary coming up!

[FullChoke]

35 years ago, on April 21, 1976, the Turkey Gods smiled down upon my heavy-handed attempts, had mercy and gifted me with my first gobbler. I have been a diligent student of the beast ever since and continue to learn, but that was the single biggest leap in my hunting career.

There have been many since, but none live in my memory and heart as vividly as that first one.



I was as proud of that bird as I was of my hair!

Cheers 

FullChoke

[new2turkey]

Congrats on 35 years 

[bowhunter84]

congrats!

[cannonball]

Congrats, keep hunting!

[lmbhngr]

WOW!! I don`t mean the bird either!!

[fallhnt]

Thats awesome

[NCBigShot]

...Life was different in '76 for sure... How big was that first bird and what did you use to call him in?

[FullChoke]

...Life was different in '76 for sure... How big was that first bird and what did you use to call him in?

He weighed 16 pounds 4 ounces, had 1" spurs and a 9.25" beard. I used the only turkey call that I had, a Lynch's Jenny one sided box call.

On the way to the area that I wanted to hunt that morning, it started raining, but I had read that turkeys would still gobble in the rain, so I kept walking. Just as I was about to crest a ridge, he hammered on the roost out in the middle of a clearcut. I slipped behind a treetop on the edge of a log loading area and called occasionally. After the rain stopped, I saw him sail off the roost to my left. He came to the road down the way and demanded that the hen come to him. I kept clucking. After about 45 minutes, he and a jake walk into the log loading area where I was. I had to carefully put the call down, get my hands on the gun and wait for the right moment to get the gun up. He walked over in front of me at a distance of about 30 yards and faced straight away stretching his neck to try and find that pesky hen. I moved right then, got the bead on him and shot. I went scrambling over slick, wet, logs and limbs and stood over him with the gun pointed at him. When I realized that he was not getting up, I stood out there on that crisp Mississippi morning with the sun breaking through the departing clouds and hollered for 5 straight minutes at the top of my lungs!

The next most fantastic moment that morning came when I got back to my grandfathers house and caught up with him on his way out to pick strawberries in the garden. I acted dejected as I walked up to him. He wanted me to come tell him how badly I had messed up. I walked right up to him, lifted my eyes and simply said, "16 pounds, 4 ounces". There was a flash of confusion on his face, then a blast of surprise, he threw the bucket he was carrying straight up in the air and took off on a dead run to the front porch, beating me easily. We danced around like happy idiots. My grandfather was my hunting mentor, teaching me good ethics, woodsmanship and how to love the outdoor world. I miss him terribly still to this day.

FullChoke