MissouriWhitetails.com

"Turkey Hunting Easy Grandma"
an article by Mark Nash

Missouri's fall firearm turkey hunting season coincides with archery season. Being a dedicated archery hunter I had never hunted turkey with a shotgun in the fall. However in the fall of 1989, I was fortunate enough to arrow my whitetail early and therefore decided to give fall turkey hunting a shot. I packed my bags and made a four-hour drive
to my grandmother’s house near Stockton, Missouri. My plan was to hunt the turkeys that fed in the river bottoms on my grandmother’s 500-acre farm.

I awoke early to the smell of my grandmother’s fine cooking. My plan was to hunt hard all morning and then come back for lunch. After a hearty breakfast, my grandma wished me well and I headed to the river bottoms. I stood at the edge of the high cut bank of the Sac River waiting for a new day to dawn. I could hear turkeys yelping at each other farther down the river. Quickly I made my way down the riverbank until I was directly across the river from the turkeys. With a diaphragm call I imitated the calls the turkeys were making as closely as I could. To my amazement, two turkeys flew across the river and lit in a tall Sycamore tree almost directly above me. I quickly drew a bead on the closest turkey and shot. To my horror the turkey fell end-over-end into the rain-swollen river below. At this point the turkey began to float down stream. I leaned my shotgun against a tree and raced down river. Frantically I looked for a place I could get down off the high bank to the river edge. I found a place to slide down and proceeded to wade waist deep in the river. I retrieved the turkey, which was floating quickly along. 

This is where things got interesting. The riverbank was approximately 15 feet high, and muddy. I clamored up the bank clutching the turkey, only to fall back down. I backed up and took another run at it and again slipped down. Now I got smart and pitched the turkey up on the bank. Covered with mud, I again took a run at the bank. This time I 
grabbed some roots and was able to hoist myself up and over the bank.

After regaining my composure I gathered my turkey, a small hen, and walked up the river to retrieve my shotgun. I walked the half-mile back to my grandma’s house. There, not an hour after I had left that morning, I knocked on the door. Grandma came to the door to find me standing there covered in mud, clutching a small turkey. ‘Turkey hunting’s easy grandma,“ I exclaimed, while she nodded in amazement. After washing myself off with a garden hose, I took a quick shower. Then I gathered my “easy” turkey, and headed for the check-in station.

Mark Nash
Pro Staffer
MissouriWhitetails.com