Lucky Feather

Turkey hunting is hard. Highly pressured, public land birds don't gobble much and can be very hard to call in close. Just like hunting other species, everything has to go right to get an opportunity to fill a tag, and you may only get one per hunt, if you’re lucky. Oddly enough, it seems as though I get lucky every time I find a turkey feather and keep it on my person.

Earlier this spring, my dad, and younger brother, Liam, and I hunted turkeys in an area we had never been to. We ended up doing really well and filled all three of our tags. My dad shot his gobbler opening morning and in a favorable manner; he set up on the turkey’s roost in the dark and called him in right off the tree. The tom gave my dad a show of strutting, drumming and gobbling before he pulled the trigger 20 yards away- everything he could have asked for that morning.

Contrary to my dad’s early success, Liam and I struggled to get it right. We were finding ourselves in turkeys, but we made a couple of mistakes on different gobblers that cost us an opportunity or two. On one occasion, on day one, I called in a tom and he came in silently. We were trying to work a different, more vocal gobbler, and we stood up to move spots. At the same moment, the silent one presented himself, only about 30 yards away. If only we had been more patient.

To add to our early frustrations, the weather was not supposed to be desirable for the next few days of the hunt. We were in store for rain and strong winds, which gobblers hate, and they usually call little to none in those conditions. Unfortunately, that became the story of the second morning, and we knew we were going to need to change strategies.

After we got our butts kicked early, Liam and I decided we were going to use the rest of the second morning to sit a tank we had found the previous day with lots of fresh turkey sign on it. It was a place where the turkeys not only watered but staged and spent significant time, so we were hopeful for some action. Only about an hour later, a lonely tom marched in.

He stopped at about 60 yards, and because he came in on the side I was covering, I shot at him, only I missed, and the giant bird took flight. As I watched the stunning spectacle of witnessing such a massive bird in full flight, Liam grabbed his shotgun, shouldered it, and shot the gobbler right out of the air. It was the most incredible shot I have ever seen on a turkey. The tom immediately expired, and Liam’s hunt was over.

I was the last one with a tag to fill. We ended up finding a promising area for me the evening after my brother’s hunt ended, but frustratingly, due to the wind, we didn't hear any gobbling then or the morning of the third day. The best possible options we had in the ripping wind were to still-hunt a staging area or sit a tank. We decided to still-hunt the evening of the third day, and while we were walking down the road to the staging area, I found an absolutely gorgeous wing feather of a turkey.

In the past, I have taken two toms at different times, very shortly after finding a turkey feather and stowing it either in my hat or bino harness. My frustrations from the weather and doubts about our evening plan lifted, and I caught a glimmer of hope from my valuable find. Shortly after, Liam saw a flash of a turkey through the pines about 150 yards in front of us. It was a tom and a hen, and the tom was putting on a show and doing its best to impress the hen.

Liam and I set up, and I made a couple of soft yelps with my call, hoping they were close enough that we could hear them through the strong wind. Immediately after my calls, the hen, with the gobbler in tow, ran right at us and stopped at 25 yards. The gobbler presented a shot, and I took it. All three of us had now filled our tags, and that was the first turkey I had ever taken on an evening hunt.

This was now the third gobbler I had taken very shortly after finding a turkey feather. While they are not particularly uncommon to find, and my luck with them is more than likely coincidental, I always welcome the wearable souvenir.