First bird

[Bowguy]

The thread about how old we are n how long we've been at it has me thinking. Might be cool to tell about our first bird. Prob the one that started this fascination.
When I was a kid there was no season or very limited seasons in NJ. I'd hunt NY. Now no one told you anything either so it was learn as you screw up but after a few tries I was in the Neversink Gorge in NY. It was opening morning and really windy. I didn't have but one mouth call and a crow call. Not sure who told me about them shocking birds.
So I got to the spot actually in full daylight. Told ya I didn't know anything. I walked through the Gorge n heard nothing. On the way back just out of habit I used my crow call. I thought I heard a gobble. Was one of the first that ever answered me I remember.
I called again n this time I was certain it was gobbling.
I was using a Quaker boy diaphragm n made some sounds, prob really rough ones but this long beard came tip toeing down a small hill strutting like a ballerina I remember thinking. I was half afraid to shoot cause if I missed I might never experience being this close again I thought. He was in full strut when I squeezed the trigger.
At the shot the bird crumpled. Couldn't believe I actually did it. Wish I still had pics of him. Maybe for kicks I'll hunt there again this year.
Doesn't matter if it's long ago or last year. Tell us your story

[BBR12]

First bird was a jake. Grandparents had a chicken/turkey pen in the field behind there house. Got a call that some wild ones were in the field by the pen. Got dropped off at the back of the field and slipped down the fence. They were headed towards me and a little pond I just got on the fence by the pond and they came by me and I killed one. Don't remember if I called to them or not. Had actually called them up a few days before back in those woods just "practicing my calling". I didn't have a gun with me that day. 

[Boyer12]

I grew up deer hunting since I was 11 but there wasn't a whole lot of turkeys in my part of Illinois at the time. Fast forward to 18 I started to notice more turkeys showing up at the family farm so I took my primos box call and an old pop up blind to try my luck. After 5 years of striking out, I killed my first gobbler by using the most deadly call: silence. That gobbler was in such a hurry to find out where that hen went I thought he was going to run into me when I shot him at about 10 steps. I can remember grabbing a hold of him and thinking FINALLY. After all that time I was ready to quit but I stuck with it and now I'm a full blown addict. It was a long time to kill my first turkey but I learned a lot of valuable lessons from my mistakes I made early on.

[Big Pine]

My first bird happened almost by accident. It was around noon on a hot, rainy Alabama day and I was out walking and periodically calling. I was on a thick, grown up woods road and I stepped just inside the edge of the pines with my back to the road and started calling. Next thing I know I hear wing beats and a turkey comes flying up the road and pitches down right behind me. I was standing there frozen with the turkey about 10 steps behind me. He eventually went easing up the road and I was able to turn and shoot him at about 30 steps. He had about a 7" beard. I will never forget that moment.

[MK M GOBL]

"My" first turkey wasn't even mine... So back in the day a buddy of mine had said that they had seen these turkeys where they deer hunted. We talked about it a bit and wanted to try this turkey hunting thing out so we headed out late that summer on a trip to scout for birds and knock on some doors. Once we got there and as we were scouting the area where they hunted for whitetail we seen all these scrapes in places that didn't make sense, next thing you know we bust up a flock of turkeys! So after talking with the landowner and getting permission to hunt there the for next spring, we did a little research and applied for our permits. Back at home we raised some of those bronze breasted farm birds, I started watching those birds to see how they interacted with each other, our hens could fly into the trees at night but the old tom didn't get off the ground but about 4ft. I actually learned a lot from those birds and they talked profusely, them hens were my teacher on cadence and rhythm, body language and more. From the time they woke up and did the tree talk to when they were talking to the old tom. I spent countless hours watching and learning from those barnyard birds, as we didn't have wild birds where I lived at that time.
We were as green as anyone could be and no one I knew turkey hunted or had ever been, so out to the local sports shop and I bought the "Truth About Turkey Hunting" Vol #1 it was the first year it was out (I have bought every one out since then too, been kind of a tradition.). I watched that video like it was the bible and bought myself a slate call... really wished I would have kept that one, also had a mouth call from Primos that came with the tape then I bought a Red Wolfe's Gobble Shaker.  I practiced my calling with those hens and the old tom tirelessly, learned everything they were saying and when, made my guesses as to what they meant and learned what each sound was called. I got to see all this day to day what they did at different times and that interaction between those birds. So here comes spring and we have our approvals from the DNR, WI has a lottery system. My buddy bought a H.S. Redi Hen decoy with a moveable head, could just twist it to a different position.
We got up there a day early for a five day hunt to scout and talk with the land owner, she tells us about
them birds and how they come out in the back of the field every morning over there... So we go out and look and see sign, tracks, poop and a wing feather. Yup decision is made lets hunt here, this lead to lesson #1 turkeys do have really good eye sight, spooked a bird that first morning... WI season at that time closed at noon, and the rest of the day was uneventful. Day 2 we setup a little different and we are not having any luck, we see some birds and hear them but just not doing things right yet...Here we are on day number four and we have learned where those birds roosted and we are setup and are in sight of those birds, hens are a talking, toms are gobbling and this to me feels like home. I start with my tree talk, birds fly down and a tom breaks from the flock to my calling, must have been better than 20 birds together out there but this guy was liking my calling. We watched him strut and gobble his way in off the field and down a bit of the old logging road we were set up on, decoy was set a bit past us and as him came my buddy put him down! He was froze, white knuckled and speechless he didn't even get up, I jumped up as soon as I could see that bird go down, ran over and put my foot on him like I had seen and kept yelling to my buddy "Shawn we did it, We did it!"
I never did get a bird that first year, didn't matter we had success and a lot of lessons were learned during those early days. As I told my Dad the story of the hunt and it got him to want to try this turkey hunting. More than anything else my dad raised me on hunting and fishing and "Turkey Hunting" was the one thing I got to teach my dad about...called in his first bird for him too, since then Dad has passed on and I have some great memories and how much this has been a part of my life and still is, it's not about the kill... don't get me wrong still like to pull the trigger but it's about family, friends and those I share the hunt with.

Hoped you enjoyed the read

MK M GOBL

[Sir-diealot]

Got my first bird last year, only took 24 years.

[StruttinGobbler3]

Looking back my first bird resembled a comedy show. Elmer Fudd style. I was 15 or 16, and other than my dad calling up a turkey in front of me when I was young, knew absolutely nothing about turkey hunting. So I went up to a small field around 3pm, and starting making strangled squawking sounds on a knight and hale mouth call. Sounded like a 15 year old hen with emphysema and a head cold, who had a speech impediment. Anyway, at some point I heard a hen yelping behind me. Having nothing better to do, I started answering her. I had no idea I was making her mad enough to come in for a fight. Well as she got closer I heard a booming gobble with her. I realized they were coming down the field road behind me, which I could not see due to my clueless setup, sitting Indian style in a thick broom straw patch. Well everything went quiet. Then I start hearing this odd low pitched sound right next to me. At that point I had no idea a gobbler could drum, didn't even know what drumming was. Here's where the humor begins. I eased up on my knees and looking toward the road. I'm now eye to eye with a big red head, looking a gobbler in the face at about five steps. I think we both screamed. Looked like an ostrich standing next to me. He takes off running into the field. I started to jump up, not realizing my right leg was asleep. Now I broke one of the cardinal rules of gun safety- I clicked my safety off before I mounted my gun. When my asleep leg gave out from under me, I landed on my knee, pulling the trigger accidentally in the process. Launched a 3 inch load of #6s somewhere over his head, which only increased the terror factor in both of us. He launched himself up in the air at about twenty yards. Now, I had extensive experience in wingshooting by then, having hunted doves and quail religiously since the age of 8 or 9. So I swing the gun on him like he's a massive quail, and pulled the trigger as I swung past his head. Scatterblasted him out of midair, and he came down like a 747 jet. I had no idea what I had just killed. He had a 10.5 inch beard with 1.5 inch spurs. Many, many gobblers have died by my gun since then, and I still haven't killed a bigger one to this day. I can't believe I just admitted this story.


Sent from my iPhone using Tapatalk Pro

[CALLM2U]

My first bird wasn't the "memory" that got me addicted.  That happened several years before.   My first gobbler happened too quick to even get excited.  We knew where they were, went in before dark.  They flew down without making a sound to about 30 yards and I dropped him. 

HOWEVER, flip back about 3 years to when I was about 10, sitting beside my dad against a big whiteoak.  Dad called a 3 year old up the end of a ridge with his Lynch box call like he was on a string.  Every gobble rattled my chest and pushed my adrenaline higher.  I had my single barrel Stevens 20g hammer back and was staring down the barrel, ready!  The problem was he came straight behind a big pine about 5 yards in front of me.  The gobbler came all the way to about 20 yards and realized something wasn't right.  My dad picked his gun up while he was in full strut and facing away and then dropped him when he turned.  I could tell-even as a 10 year old that my dad didn't want to shoot him.  But I kept reiterating that I was SO glad he did.  I was just as excited as I would have been if it was mine.  I've been addicted since then. 

[Happy]

It's really hard to remember over all of them I have gotten in the past years,but I believe the first "bird" I ever got was when I asked Rebecca to the prom. Have gotten a lot since but the pain of the first one hurt the most.

Sent from my SM-G960U using Tapatalk

[trkehunr93]

I didn't go hunting until I was 17 and didn't really get into to it until I was 18-19 so I would say I was an adult on set hunter before it was cool.  My first bird was a fall hen in '95, had called in my first turkey during VA archery season in early Oct. but missed, actually called in two.  After a few more hunts and not seeing deer and seeing turkeys everytime I hunted this spot I decided that once the firearms season opened I would keep after them.  I hunted on Halloween afternoon but didn't see or hear anything so I went back out Nov. 1st, a Wednesday, and hunted that afternoon.  After an hour of sitting and blind calling in a spot they were hanging out alot during bow season, around 3PM something said look to your right and here comes 7 birds making a B line to me.  I was froze with a box call in one hand and my other hand gripping the stock of my shotgun resting on my knee.  It seemed like and eternity but they finally went to my right and started dropping down the ridge and when the last one went behind a tree I met her on the other side, she was maybe 20 yards and I shot.  I took off after her like a bolt of lightning as she was flopping away from me.  She might have weighed 10-11 lbs but man was I proud, I had only been hunting a couple of years and had only been turkey hunting a handful of times at that point so it was a big accomplishment. 

First spring bird didn't come until 3 years later in '98, windy as hell that morning and had rained the whole weekend before so you couldn't hear anything but Monday was the only day I had off that week so I went.  Nothing at daylight and ended up running into three other hunters who were camping in there and they had heard a few that Saturday at first light but hadn't had any luck.  I found a spot away from them and set up and started calling, around 10AM, I looked over my left shoulder and a hen had slipped in behind me that I never heard walk in with the wind and wet leaves.  For whatever reason I switched sides of the tree I was sitting at and sat on the side where she came from.  At 10:55 I thought I heard a gobble so I called and yep it was a gobble, I called again and he gobbled again, I think I called one more time and he gobbled again and I went ahead and got my gun up.  I kept looking straight ahead and here he comes, my heart was pounding!  Again felt like an eternity but was probably a minute, he went behind a tree, stopped and went into half strut and when he came out the other side I gave him a dirt nap at 20-25 yards.  I was excited about my first turkey but after havin' my you know what handed to me during the previous springs I was a wreck!  Once I got him and tagged him I sprinted back to my truck.  When I got there two of the guys I had spoken with earlier were there waiting on me wanting to see how big he was.   they knew I had never killed one in the spring and were just as excited for me as I was, they took some pics of me with it and kept congratulating me.  Turns out they were trying to call in the same bird but he kept working away from them and then they heard a shot and figured it was me since their other buddy had called it a morning already.  I was in such a whirlwind I never got their names, couldn't wait to get home and show everybody.  I can still picture those moments today, it's been fun reliving them as I write.  Great memories, come on spring!

[Delmar ODonnell]

My addiction didn't begin with my first bird, but happened a few weeks before on opening day of Mississippi's season.  My mentor/best friend and I went to a spot to set up on a bird we heard a few days before season started. Before we had even sat down the bird had gobbled a few times. We sat up about 150 yards away on the same hardwood ridge he was roosted. My mentor called one time, a few tree yelps so soft I thought there was no way an animal could hear. But the gobbler responded.

5 minutes later I spot the gobbler 100 yards away walking towards us through the wide-open woods that had yet to show any of the green signs of spring. He slowly closed the distance and was finally at 15 yards in full strut, making a sound that I thought I could "feel" in every cell in my body, a sound of such low frequency I thought was being made just to shoot adrenaline through my veins and make every muscle spasm with anticipation. Still, my mentor said, "Don't shoot yet, just watch," and I am so thankful he did.

The gobbler strutted and drummed for another minute, but to me felt like an eternity, and finally my mentor said, "ok shoot him when you are ready." The bead had been on him since he walked into range, so I didn't waste any time in squeezing the trigger. "Click." While trying to be quiet loading the gun, I didn't push the slide all the way forward. The bird immediately dropped out of strut and looked at where the metallic sound had come from. My friend quickly shouldered his gun and shot him. I wasn't the one to shoot, but I was shaking so bad after watching and hearing something so magnificent I didn't think possible.

I'd been an avid bowhunter for awhile, and so I was an adequate woodsman at the time, just had never been a turkey hunter. But from that moment, I knew I was all in.  Nothing else mattered. I wanted to be a turkey hunter. I was able to kill my first bird a few weeks later that my mentor called in, and 2 weeks after that I was able to kill my first on my own. But that was the hunt that started a passion that's hard to put into words.

[Big Pine]

Looking back my first bird resembled a comedy show. Elmer Fudd style. I was 15 or 16, and other than my dad calling up a turkey in front of me when I was young, knew absolutely nothing about turkey hunting. So I went up to a small field around 3pm, and starting making strangled squawking sounds on a knight and hale mouth call. Sounded like a 15 year old hen with emphysema and a head cold, who had a speech impediment. Anyway, at some point I heard a hen yelping behind me. Having nothing better to do, I started answering her. I had no idea I was making her mad enough to come in for a fight. Well as she got closer I heard a booming gobble with her. I realized they were coming down the field road behind me, which I could not see due to my clueless setup, sitting Indian style in a thick broom straw patch. Well everything went quiet. Then I start hearing this odd low pitched sound right next to me. At that point I had no idea a gobbler could drum, didn't even know what drumming was. Here's where the humor begins. I eased up on my knees and looking toward the road. I'm now eye to eye with a big red head, looking a gobbler in the face at about five steps. I think we both screamed. Looked like an ostrich standing next to me. He takes off running into the field. I started to jump up, not realizing my right leg was asleep. Now I broke one of the cardinal rules of gun safety- I clicked my safety off before I mounted my gun. When my asleep leg gave out from under me, I landed on my knee, pulling the trigger accidentally in the process. Launched a 3 inch load of #6s somewhere over his head, which only increased the terror factor in both of us. He launched himself up in the air at about twenty yards. Now, I had extensive experience in wingshooting by then, having hunted doves and quail religiously since the age of 8 or 9. So I swing the gun on him like he's a massive quail, and pulled the trigger as I swung past his head. Scatterblasted him out of midair, and he came down like a 747 jet. I had no idea what I had just killed. He had a 10.5 inch beard with 1.5 inch spurs. Many, many gobblers have died by my gun since then, and I still haven't killed a bigger one to this day. I can't believe I just admitted this story.


Sent from my iPhone using Tapatalk Pro

Man that is some good stuff! That tickled the fire out of me

[Bowguy]

It's really hard to remember over all of them I have gotten in the past years,but I believe the first "bird" I ever got was when I asked Rebecca to the prom. Have gotten a lot since but the pain of the first one hurt the most.

Sent from my SM-G960U using Tapatalk

Funny right there! Great stories boys

[Greg Massey]

My first was Jake on Public land , i can still remember that hunt like it was yesterday. I rode around showing it off like i had killed record book or something , but in my eyes it was a trophy . I was hooked from the first time i heard a gobbler fire off at the break of daylight ...  back when i started you were lucky to find a turkey or much less hear one or more gobble the whole season.. How times have changed ... God Bless the wild turkeys ..

[hotspur]

I have always been a turkey hunter ,even before I knew I would hunt turkey.when I was 16 and able to drive I scouted some public land the week before the season . I found some turkeys to hunt. And the night before season opener it rains hard. Upon arriving at the area to hunt creeks where swollen with rain water forcing me to go around to cross. Two creeks to cross  was putting me behind on time. When I finally made to my spot it was daylight and I could hear someone calling with a box call dang I'm too late. I decided to get a look, and there was a decoy standing where Iwas to set up dangit man, what to do? I decided to look again a d the decoy was gone. Wait that wwasn't a decoy and that must not be a hunter calling eve. Though it sounded just like my lynch box call. I then hear a gobble and turn to look to see one strutter leading two others coming my way, the hen is assembly calling a d gobs are answering. So I move. Between the two and get ready, the gobbler stopped behind a tree and I clucked with my mouth call a d got a triple gobble response with a rattling throat behind it , another cluck and the gobble runs at me a d I shot him at five steps in self defense. Was  my first day turkey hunting, was one of my best turkeys a d he was banded to say I was shaking is an understatement