In the previous post, we had just finished relaxing on a rainy afternoon with some domino devastation and Oysters Rockefeller to tide us over until dinner. Right about the time finally let up, we were ready to embark on our second hunt of the weekend…
Second Hunt
The rain held us up until about 5:15, and we made a beeline for the brush and the decoys. Once we were settled, Court started calling again. Crickets. (Literally, crickets, it was actually very loud.)
As the quiet stretched on outside the bush, so did our conversations. I’ll probably say it every blogpost, because it’s the truth. There is something very special about spending time with loved ones in nature, and some of the best conversations are those had during an uneventful hunt in the blind, or an uneventful fishing trip on the boat. As if opening our senses to natures opens our hearts and minds to each other at the same time.
Suddenly, at around 6:15, the sky opened up and just poured on us. There was no need to be quiet as I cracked up and slung the shotgun across my lap again. No need to be quiet as Court taught me how to make calls with the little wooden contraption he’d been using all day.
Eventually, the rain let up and we packed up the decoys. There was plenty of fenceline to wander on the way back, so we resumed the shed hunt and slowly made our way back to the cabin.
We talked while we walked and I almost missed the dirty cream-colored jawbone complete with teeth as we walked by. Upon closer inspection, it was turned out to be a pig jaw, and since it was near the place we disposed of such remains, it didn’t take long to find the top of the skull just a little further down.
Not a shed, but an exciting prize nonetheless.
After depositing the pig skull in the garden back at the cabin, Court and his grandfather started working on dinner while I continued my shed hunt around the front of the property.
Despite coming here for several years now, I had never really explored much off the senderos. We pretty much walk straight out to our spots and come straight back. Even when doing some work around the property, we stick to the roads.
I walked past the feeder within view of the porch and just kept walking. Dove-grey clouds hung overhead as I let my feet lead me through large patches of wildflowers and past small clumps of blooming cacti. The fence line stretched out beside me as I slowly wandered along the property line.
It’s hard not to imagine what it must be like to be the animals that regularly pass through these little hidden pathways. I imagined the does with their fawns that must slowly meander through the small thickets of mesquite trees as they eventually pick their way to the feeder near the cabin. Or the hogs bustling along the fence line and startling the birds in brush as they rush by to get at the corn.
Around each little grove of trees, I hoped to spy some kind of critter, but they were still bedded down after all the rain.
Eventually, I came to the first gate on the property from when they used to have cattle. Beyond it stretched more of the same fence line and trees with wild flowers bursting along the open stretches of field. It beckoned to me, but I had already been gone for awhile and knew dinner would be ready soon. I slowly wandered back, frequently losing my way and enjoying the opportunity to explore just a little more before getting back to the cabin.
Just as we sat down to eat dinner, the clouds cleared to reveal a colorful sunset. We enjoyed a simple but delicious meal of jalapeno poppers, lamb chops, root vegetables, and peas. And as the stars began to rise, we each took a slice of coconut cream pie to enjoy by the fire. We enjoy good food and good times at the ranch every trip.
Full and sleepy from a lazy, rainy day, we climbed into bed for another morning hunt.
Third Hunt
We settled back into our chosen spot along the sendero just as the sun started to rise. Decoys set, rifle at the ready, we waited.
This morning began much like the morning before. As the sun began to rise higher, we heard faint, sleepy gobbles in the distance. Court immediately started calling back, encouraging them to come closer.
With each passing minute, the gobbles drifted closer. I couldn’t help checking my watch for the magic moment, 9:00AM, when they would come bobbing in front of us to get to the feeder. Surely, with the rain gone and some corn on the ground, we would get a chance at a tom.
The minutes ticked by, and the gobbles came closer. They came close enough that we heard a new sound; a hen clucking.
I immediately got excited and readjusted the rifle in my arms; Court wasn’t so sure, though. “If they’ve found a hen, they might just ignore us,” he whispered while testing a quick call.
8:45AM. The gobbles and clucks are getting closer and louder from two different directions. My head was on a swivel as the gobbles chuckled ahead of us and behind us.
9:00AM. The gobbles became less frequent, but remained close. I willed a turkey to walk out onto the road, to see our decoys and follow them right into range.
9:15AM. The gobbles continued, and became fainter. My body tensed with each gobble, as though those turkeys were chuckling at us. Chuckling, that we would think they were so gullible to walk into our trap. I began to understand why so many hunters find spring turkey hunts so frustrating; your quarry is smart and laughs at you.
9:30AM. Silence had settled over us for nearly 15 minutes. I resettled the rifle across my lap, and I couldn’t help but chuckle at myself. Everyone who had ever been turkey hunting had told me it was frustrating, and they were right!
By 10:00AM, we were ready to call it. The turkeys had been silent for awhile, and we were ready to get back to the cabin to prepare for the short trek home. As we packed things up, I couldn’t help the little smile on my face. I had gotten a true turkey hunting experience, frustration and all!
There are some things when it comes to the outdoors that I think just require “doing your time”. I hear Court and his family talk about how it took so many years or so many times hunting to finally get a shot at an animal, or even with fishing how they fished for so many years before finally landing a fish.
Frankly, I haven’t done my time. But in the short time I’ve been hunting and fishing, I’ve learned a lot. One of the hardest lessons of nature is perseverance, and I feel that the past year in particular has really tested my perseverance. From difficulties deer hunting, duck hunting, and now turkey hunting, I’ve been reminded that success isn’t just bringing home your quarry. It’s getting out there at all. It’s going back when you didn’t even hear an animal. It’s taking the experience and learning so you have a better chance the next time. It’s one of the most incredible abilities of nature to be aggressively resilient, and one of the greatest lessons I’ve learned yet as an outdoorswoman.
We didn’t bring home meat, but I brought back so much more. A restful weekend at one of my favorite places. Memories of dominoes, oysters, and campfires under the stars with family. The thrills of an exchange with a turkey using a little wooden box. Lessons learned to make me even better on my next hunt.
Those turkeys can chuckle at me all they want. I’ll be ready for them this fall.
Jess and the Outdoors 