Someone Bagged A Bird
Slipping back to camp for lunch we gathered on the front porch to relax for a bit and began to share the morning hunts results. There was one thing we noticed when we stepped up to the porch, besides the sheepish grin on Bob Humphrey’s face, and that was the large long beard hanging from the porch rail. This would be the first turkey harvest in camp and that’s when we were treated to the story of how the harvest unfolded. It was in these moments of joy and shared congratulations that I began to realize just how fun the hunting part of this adventure was going to be.
As we gathered around the big bird Love introduced us to yet another Tennessee turkey hunter, Sam Terry. Some say Terry could be the best turkey hunter in Tennessee but it will never come out of his mouth. A very modest, funny, yet incredibly intellectual individual gave us all plenty of laughs with his life’s lessons involving humor and hunting. It was a treat to share a seat on the porch when this hunter shared his thoughts. This was an intricate part of the “new friendships” I had mentioned earlier and just one of the reasons this hunting camp was so memorable for me.
After two mornings with no luck finding those mountain birds I would be paired up with a young man named Chris West for the following morning. West had grown up hunting these wild woods and from the first time I met him, win, lose or draw I knew it was going to be a great time. His inspiring voice of confidence (even when he probably knew there would be tough hunting ahead) built my spirit up from the start. Learning about how he and his boys love to hunt and their impressive record of harvest is well known around the Cumberland Mountains and I was ready for the next morning’s alarm.
West and I took off early from camp in our Wolverine and drove out somewhere around an hour to a part of the property which will remain unnamed for privacy of the hunters. Once out of our Wolverine the walk began. The excitement kept my mind busy as we walked into an old roadbed high above Indian Creek. It was then that I realized just how deep into the turkey’s own world we had stepped.
The hills turned into sheer cliffs and steep rock walls; an area ideal for something with wings but this was not going to stop West or myself. Stopping briefly to call, we heard two big gobblers respond across the valley from a ridge probably close to three-quarters of a mile away. This bird was headed right for us. The dance was on and as we carefully slipped down the ridge closer to the river we knew there was something interested in what we had to say. After several return trips back and forth up the mountain we realized the birds (two large Toms) had slipped by. Our only hope was that neither bird had suspected us to be imitators.
More Curious
Carefully climbing back up the hillside it seemed as if at least one bird had become even more curious and stopped in the road to call back to us several times. My guide pulled out his fan and best calling technique for a last ditch effort to bring the bird back but alas it was probably holding us there to allow the wiser bird to escape. Following this subtle hint we reversed course again and tried to flank the bird using another old trail to the top of the mountain. We had been at this chase for more than 3.5 hours now and the mountain was claiming my every breath. But as long as West was still in the fight I was as well. That’s when it all came to a sudden end. As we strolled ever so carefully up the road we approached a pump station of some kind to our left and just as our eyes looked in that direction we see the “747” of turkeys swing its wings three or four times. That’s when he disappeared off the mountain.
The turkey won this fight but in determined fashion West pressed on to see if there might be any other bird at the top of the hill. As the morning grew into day we figured we should head back to camp with our incredible story to tell. Even though we hadn’t harvested a Wild Turkey on this hunt we did have an incredible time in the woods talking to them and learning what it means to share such an experience.
Taking our time in the Wolverine we eased back into camp and to our surprise there was yet another Bob Humphrey turkey hanging in the railing. In a split second I might have been a little envious but as I thought again I realized that I had made several new life long friends and heard many great stories on the porch.
Not to mention I also had a chance to ride some of the best trails that Tennessee has to offer in Yamaha’s outdoor adventure machines. As for this hunter, well I put my name in the hat for opening day next turkey season with Love and his crew to continue the story.
