by Ryan Reed

It’s hard for me to believe, but this will be my 40th spring turkey season. When I first started, I was lucky enough to have access to a private forest with lots of turkeys, and a father crazy enough but willing to take an antsy 12-year-old out to the woods for perhaps the northeast’s most wily quarry.

It was also a fortunate affair that not only was I taken to a great spot, but Dad happened to get a big gobbler fired up at around 10:00. I was so inexperienced that I thought the gobbling was a dog barking in the distance.

Dad’s calls were answered every time, with the tom cutting distance at an astounding rate. My heartbeat matched the intensity of the gobbler’s responses; I could literally see my gun barrel moving forward and backward with each beat of my heart. After an agonizing 30 seconds or so of seeing bits and pieces of the bird approaching, I recall hearing Dad say, “go ahead, shoot!” So I did… and promptly missed.

In hindsight, the bird was likely too far for my 20-gauge shotgun, but hey, that’s all a part of learning how to hunt turkeys. One thing I can say is that the experience hooked me right from the start, and from that moment, a lifelong turkey hunter was born.

It took me another few years to get my first jake, from the same spot where I missed as a 12-year-old, and it took me until I reached 21 to harvest my first long-beard. I remember how proud I was to have called that bird in myself, executing the perfect plan to outsmart a gobbler that had outwitted me the day before. This time, I got between his roost site and where he wanted to strut, and the rest is history.

I’ve been fortunate over the decades to take a good number of spring gobblers, but it’s the experience that has been so much more valuable to me than the harvest itself. There’s a feel for the spring woods that is just unmatched. It’s the smell, the lime green of newly emerged leaves, the little ephemeral wildflowers, the occasional box turtle, the random morel mushroom, and so much more. Spring turkey season, as it turns out, just gives me a reason to “waste” many hours doing very little in the woods, but I can tell you, these times have been some of the most memorable and joyous times I can recall.

If you’re getting out tomorrow, count yourself fortunate. Be safe; enjoy, and best of luck to you!