First Michigan Turkey

There’s something special about earning your first bird — and after last season’s strikeout, this one tasted even sweeter.

Last year, I put in the time, sunk up to my chest (ask if you want), and called at more birds with no response than I can count, but came up empty. Still, I walked away with more knowledge and more motivation. I was determined to make this season different.

Over the past several months, I’ve kept a close eye on my local birds. Trail cameras became my best friend, helping me pattern their movement, track their roosts, and stay dialed in.

Opening morning finally arrived, and with it, perfect spring conditions. I set up a bit late, and my tom was at the stand 30 minutes prior to me, I thought it was over before it started. But like turkey hunting often goes — it didn’t go the way I expected.

He came in silent. No gobble. No drumming. Nothing.

I caught movement over my shoulder and turned slowly to see a mature tom slipping through the trees, almost ghost-like, taunting me. Ten yards. No time to think, just react. I took the shot clean and quick.

The bird was beautiful — a thick 10-inch beard, sharp 1-inch spurs, and a memory that will stick with me forever.

Later that week, my wife cooked up some of the fresh meat, and let me tell you, it’s absolutely delicious. Wild turkey has a flavor all its own — rich, lean, and earned.

This hunt was more than just filling a tag. It was an experience I cannot believe I waited 34 years for.

Until next time, stay safe, hunt hard, and respect the game.