Author: Rodd Little.

Anyone who hunts or fishes has years where everything he does falls right into place, while other years it seems like no matter what you do nothing goes right.  In 50 years of hunting I have never had a year like 2023.  

It started during the spring turkey season with my 9 year old grandson Connor.  I took Connor on my property in northern Bay County on opening day of the 2023 turkey season to a portable (tent) blind in a Grandpa Ray’s clover plot I had frost seeded in March.  I can see this plot right off the north end of a 15 acre hay field that is behind the house.  The turkeys were in the plot daily.  Before first light, we quietly set a sitting Avian Strutting Jake and a standing Hen out, then we got in the blind and waited.  The weather was cool and clear with almost no wind.  At first light, turkeys started gobbling 150 yards northwest along my west property line on the opposite side of a ditch bank. After I was sure they were on the ground I started calling just enough to get their attention.  Within ten minutes 4 Jakes followed a mowed trail into the food plot and came out 50 yards west of the blind.  When they saw the decoys that were 20 yards from the blind they made a bee-line right to them.  Connor was using his Savage .410 pump shotgun with tungsten turkey loads.  The gun was clamped into a Bogg rest.  When the Jake got to the decoys I whispered to Connor to put the bead on the closest turkey’s neck where the waddles and feathers meet and squeeze the trigger.  And after he did, I could see a puff of body feathers just below the neck as the Tom went down.  Before I could get the gun out of the rest the turkey was back on his feet and following the other jakes back to the west.  All four went over the ditch bank onto the neighbor’s property.  I was certain the turkey would be laying on the other side of the ditch.  I told Connor we would wait until we had permission from the neighbor to find the bird.  I already knew there wouldn’t be an issue but I wanted Connor to see the right way to ask permission.  The neighbors said “go ahead”.  We looked for two hours and never found it.  A week later I saw four Jakes together in the field.  I’d assumed they were the same foursome we’d faced on that fateful day a week prior.

When we returned to our house after we couldn’t find the turkey, I asked Connor if he would like to try shooting a Remington 1100 20 gauge to which he gave a resounding, “Yes!”  I had already patterned this gun with some “match ammo”.  I put the gun in his Bogg rest and had him shoot this same ammo at a 25 yard turkey target.  Connor put plenty of pellets in the kill zone proving the magnum #5’s as a great shot selection.  

A week later Connor called to ask if we could go turkey hunting the next afternoon.  My response was an easy, “of course”!  I took the blind, decoys and chairs to a spot deeper in the woods where I felt the turkeys would show in the afternoon.  We arrived at the blind about 4:30 p.m.  We sat quietly until 5:00 p.m. and started to call on a box call about every 15 minutes.  I could tell Connor was ‘antsy’, asking Grandpa if he could try turkey calling.  Wanting to show Connor the classic calling sequence for nearby turkeys, I told him to be patient and diligently watch.  As Connor’s Grandpa, I wanted some time to adequately show him a proper turkey hunting setup with an enticing call.  I told Connor, “let me call this turkey for you”, as turkeys don’t normally gobble well in the evening.   Connor looked at me and said, “Grandpa, I want you to know I really don’t care if I get one…I just enjoy spending time with you”.  Feeling terrible about telling him he couldn’t call, I then showed him how to use the box call and explained how to call about every 15 minutes.  He could call, I would blow a crow call or use a gobbler shaker call trying to get a turkey to ‘shock gobble’.  We thought we heard one quite a distance north of us but nothing after that.  My watch said 6:35 p.m.  We decided to stay put for about an hour then consider packing up our gear and heading home.  

At 7:35 p.m. we both removed our camo facemasks, I unloaded Connor’s gun, as he put the shells in his backpack.  Like I have a million times, I glanced out of the blind before our exit.  Yep!  There was a lone Jake quietly walking in our direction.  And, seemingly out of nowhere stood an adult probably 15 yards from our blind in full-strut towards the decoys.  We were back in our ‘whisper status’.  Connor retrieved the shells from his backpack.  I decided to perform some mouth calls to the strutting Tom in hopes of “masking” the noise of reloading Connor’s shotgun.  I quickly set the gun in the rest, telling Connor to stand up and put the gun sight on the turkey and when the turkey turns facing the blind, to put the bead where the waddle and feather meet on the neck and pull the trigger.  As soon as the Tom turkey was in position I whispered “now”.  Connor’s shot dropped the Tom in his tracks.  I quickly instructed Connor to keep his gun sight on the bird and if he tries to get up…shoot again.  Connor remained on point for a few minutes assuring the quick and clean harvest of his initial shot.  The two of us climbed out of the blind to collect his trophy…a nice 2 ½ year old bird sporting an 8 “ beard with ¾ “ spurs and weighing a solid 18 pounds.  And, Connor even took part in calling this one into the decoys.  

This experience reminded me of Connor’s first turkey harvest, a nice Jake with his Dad and I present when he was only 7!  And, then again when he harvested a nice Tom with his Dad at age 8!  

Today was my time with Connor…this one was the first one with just “me”.  We were both elated.  This hunt took place on a piece of property my Dad purchased in the spring of 1992.  He owned and operated a small auto body repair shop, working hard his whole life.  His dream was to own a farm with property in the country.  After he purchased the place many family members and myself worked on the farm home to get it ready for him and my mother to move into.  They moved in on Memorial Day Weekend 1993.  In October 1993 tragedy struck.  What we thought was a heart attack turned out to be an aortic aneurysm.  Dad spent October 3rd through December 20th in intensive care. He then lived another 9 years until he passed away in December 2002.  My Dad experienced one health issue after another during this time, never really enjoying the place he waited so long to have.  After my mother passed in 2014, my wife and I purchased the farm from my family’s estate.  There is no doubt in my mind that my dad was looking down, smiling from Heaven on me and Connor’s turkey hunt.  

My 2023 dream season would continue with me harvesting a really nice Tom with my favorite shotgun from my deceased uncle.  And, in addition to being involved in four other successful turkey hunts, my son and I both took bull elk on a guided muzzleloader hunt in Colorado, and I harvested two of my nicest Michigan bucks during rifle season.