By Lindsay Creasy
-- After several years of successful deer hunting, I had become somewhat bored. Although deer hunting was still a passion, some part of me wanted something different with more of a challenge.
Ironically, soon after my longing for change, a good friend from church introduced me to the sport of turkey hunting. After one hunt, although unsuccessful, I knew turkey hunting was the change I had been longing for.
My freshman year of pursuing the Eastern turkey was uneventful, but I learned everything I could. I couldn’t wait for the 2008 season to arrive.
After returning home from a March evening hunt on opening weekend, I began to unload my equipment from the truck. Suddenly, I heard a familiar sound coming from a patch of timber overlooking a small creek behind my house. It was a gobbler taking his roost for the night!
I grabbed a crow call, and was immediately answered by another gobble. The excitement was so intense that it felt as if my heart would explode. You can guess where I would be at daybreak.
The next morning, with great anticipation, I was dressed in my camo with my calls packed and ready. Just when I thought it couldn't get any better, my husband, Johnathon, agreed to come along for the hunt. With a borrowed 20 gauge shotgun in arm, my husband and I settled up against a fallen tree and waited for the sun.
Like an answered prayer, a loud, dominating gobble disturbed the quiet of the early morning air. Unknowingly, my husband and I had settled just 50 yards from the gobbler's roosting tree.
When the gobbler left his roost, he began moving down a hill away from us. I called softly on a slate call (also borrowed) and watched and listened for a response.
All of the sudden, the large strutting bird appeared on the hilltop. I took the shot at 30 yards, and my first turkey was on the ground. The beautiful animal weighed 19 pounds and had a 9.5-inch beard with 1-inch spurs.
Although I was humbled to harvest a mature bird, it wasn't the most important aspect of the hunt. A jake would have been just as much of a trophy to me. With my husband by my side, I had found a new obsession with a borrowed shotgun and a little bit of luck.
Iron City, Tenn.
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