No shame in shooting a jake...

April 23, 2016: Hunt 7 for 2016, I started the morning at my in-laws farm and was met perfect turkey hunting morning, clear, calm, and 46 degrees with patchy fog, but it was 6 a.m. before I even heard a gobble and it was several 100 yards away on the neighbors. The bird gobbled 5 times and never made another sound. I sat until 7 a.m. without hearing anything or seeing anything but deer, so I decided to get a biscuit and head to another farm where I had not heard or seen a bird this year. 

After a quick trip for an iced tea and a biscuit, I was headed down the road and contemplating what I was going to do. I had already passed up 2 different legal birds, including a boss jake that had run off several longbeards for me on the first day, and a bearded hen with a 6"+ beard, and I was beginning to think the odds were stacked against me with my soccer coaching and work, I only had a couple more days total to hunt for the year. I thought to myself what would happen if a bearded hen or a jake made an appearance again today, and I told myself I still will not kill a hen in the spring, but the jake rule comes into effect...if they act like a big boy, they get treated like a big boy.

I pulled into a field entry at 7:33 a.m. and decided I would walk in, hit the call and leave, as I had zero confidence that I would hear a bird. In fact, I threw caution to the wind and walked straight in to my area of interest, instead of my normal path that uses the terrain to hide my silhouette. As I approached the creek, I was closing in on the spot where the last bird I killed last year ended his run and as those memories started pouring back, I was interrupted by a gobble straight out in front of me up on the ridge on the back side of the creek! Turkey hunters know what I mean when your standing in the wide open and a bird gobbles close, your insides are running around like a clown act at the circus but your frozen solid. He gobbled again and I decided I was stuck going either direction so I walked directly at him, dropping the decoys in the freshly plowed field as I prepared to stand up he gobbled a third time, still in the same place. Great, I thought, “only 50 more yards to the first tree” I stayed in a low crouch and moved into position, facing across the creek with the decoys behind me, I settled in and hit the call...

In the few minutes it took for me to get settled the bird had moved almost 100 yards to my right, still up on the ridge. I hit the call again and he did not respond so I thought, well at least I know where to start tomorrow. I waited a couple minutes and let out a short series of yelps on a mouth call, and he gobbled hard, this time in the bottom out in front of me...he was coming back! I turned my head and cupped my mouth to “throw” my call and “steer” the bird to my right, as I did not want him coming to the creek left of my location or I would be in trouble as a lefty. 

 It seemed like 10 minutes of silence, but finally I saw a red head pop out of the brush, he popped into strut a couple times, then raised his head high to look for the hen he had heard. He started to go along the creek to my right so ever so slightly I let out a few very quiet yelps and he immediately gobbled back and went into strut. There were many trees in the way and the grass was very tall so I couldn’t ever get a great look at the bird, but as he popped out of strut he broke his zone and committed to coming to my side of the creek, I knew if he flew the creek things would get interesting as he would most likely land about 8 yards right in front of me so I made the split second decision to take him the first second he stepped into the clear. Head down on the gun he popped out from behind a tree and turned directly at me, flipping his wings and preparing to fly, I let out three or four yelps and he raised his head up and I pulled the trigger. He disappeared in the grass and I was done! I caught my breath and looked at my phone, 8:05 A.M. Less than 45 minutes from when I stepped out of the truck.

I had to wade the creek to get to the bird and I was shocked to find out that he was an oversized jake, 5 1/2” beard, 1/2” spurs, and weighed 18 lbs. I have been blessed to kill a lot of longbeards in my life and call in many more for others, and as I stood there and admired God’s work, the beautiful day, the bird, the fog rolling across the hills, and the amazing scenery with the creek flowing through the green grass still shining from the morning dew.  I was not let down in the least bit that this bird was a jake.  I had food for the grill, I had a great adrenaline rush and I was free to sleep in the next morning with my wonderful family! The words that I have shared a few times with one of the best turkey hunters I know rang true...”ain’t no shame in shooting a jake.”

Foggy Morning Bird