Welcome to a first-person Native American Indians run

I’ve got to admit, it was probably more fun to dress up in a costume and go after some townies than it was to hunt turkeys this afternoon. I went out looking for wild…

Welcome to a first-person Native American Indians run

I’ve got to admit, it was probably more fun to dress up in a costume and go after some townies than it was to hunt turkeys this afternoon.

I went out looking for wild turkeys at around 1 p.m. on what I thought would be a warm day. We had no turkey calls, I’m not a turkey hunter, and I’ve hunted turkeys in other states. So I figured, why not?

A few minutes later I saw a set of mating turkeys in the field on the southern side of a slough. I heard an off-lead gobble as they danced around each other and took off in different directions. I noticed that all four were heading the same direction. I figured I might as well throw a shot at one just to see if it would stay on the bird.

About an hour later, at 3:48 p.m., I found myself on the other side of a creek where a flock of smaller wild turkeys were taking it in the mud and scrambling up the steep bank. Some were knocked down by the rain, others were already huddled in trees as part of their “hibernation” ritual.

Eventually, several other wild turkeys came by. They appeared unfazed by the presence of six humans moving in different directions. They made a bunch of strange gurgling noises and looked like they were fighting for territory.

It’s unlikely that I killed any turkeys today. But it was still fun to go out on an October afternoon and see how we affected these wild creatures. And you know what they say: Nothing beats a good messy turkey story.

Leave a Comment