I didn't shoot any turkeys last week. Some out there would say that is rather amazing. Keeping with full disclosure here, I hunted seven days and never clicked the safety off on my shotgun. Along with a very able partner, I hunted as hard every day as one could in often 75-degree weather. Oh, it was beautiful, but it was warm.
The reason I said this might be amazing to some is that many of you out there know me as a fall turkey hunter. It is a mistake to allow yourself to even remotely believe you are anything special when it comes to hunting turkeys. The minute one does this, the turkeys take it upon themselves to take you down a peg or two (or three).
By the end of the week, let's just say I didn't feel worthy of carrying a lunch box for Ben Lee, Ray Eye or any other turkey hunter.
Once again, full disclosure - I had help from some pretty capable partners. For many years I have hunted with dogs when going after turkeys in the fall. That's right, with dogs. Some of you know about this time-honored tradition (I maintain it originated in Virginia), and the views on this subject are all over the map.
Like many things in life, if we don't understand it something we often say we don't like it. That is OK, but I don't argue with people anymore.
What the turkey dog does is basically run the woods while trying to find the scent of a flock of turkeys. He will then pursue the flock, run into the turkeys and scatter them to the four winds. (Oh yeah, and we want him to bark while he is doing this.)
Most of you know this is the essence of fall turkey hunting. You have to find them, break them up, then call them back in. It sounds simple enough, but you have to find them first.
By the middle of the week, I was more than a little disheartened. Tired, footsore and grouchy, I was down on my dog (whose only fault was to scramble every day while trying to find me a turkey), the weather (which was beautiful) and life in general.
Thankfully, as it often happens, the clouds parted for even a slow-witted hunter like me.
I stood one morning watching Callie, my small white pointer, as she galloped around the edge of a field. For a second or two, I thought I was seeing my old dog Patch, now long gone. An English Pointer with a rhythmic, rocking horse gait, this vision brought it all back to me.
Most of us that hunt with dogs figure we have one super dog in our lifetime. Patch was mine. I probably stood transfixed for a minute before I came out of the daze.
The problem with idolizing dogs of the past is that the dogs of the present can never live up to our memories. As fond as my memories of Patch might be, this is not fair to Callie or any dog I own in the future. I wanted Patch to be here with me that morning just like I wanted my dad to be on the trip. But they have moved on, and I truly do not think they would want us to quit the tradition because they are not with us.
I figured I had received my enlightenment quota for the week, but I was wrong.
We were joined by some new blood in our hunt later in the week. A 14-year-old young man (the grandson of my hunting partner) made me see some things in a new light. This kid was just happy to be there. He wanted to tangle with some turkeys, sure, but if that didn't happen, he was fine with just tramping through the woods.
There is a lot to be said for an attitude like this, folks.
The next day we were joined by a couple of guys from the National Shooting Sports Foundation.
If you don't know about the NSSF, you need to. The NSSF is the trade association for the firearms industry, and since 1961 it has been on the front lines helping to defend your rights concerning firearms. Even if you are not a firearms retailer, go to the NSSF website, nssf.org, and check out what they do to recruit new hunters and shooters and maintain the ones we have.
One of the NSSF guys was new to turkey hunting. With the slump we were in, I was worried about introducing him to the turkey world. I figured if we found no birds (which we didn't), he would be disappointed.
I don't think he could have cared less. Just like my buddy's grandson, he was happy to explore some beautiful woods and learn about turkey hunting.
Was it fun introducing new hunters to a wonderful sport that I was taking for granted? You bet.
Did I get some much-needed battery charging as to what is important? Absolutely.
I'm going to shoot a turkey next week.
"The Trail Less Traveled" is written by Larry Case, who lives in Fayette County, W.Va., has been a devoted outdoorsman all of his life and is a contributing columnist for The Times Free Press. You can write to him at larryocase3@gmail.com.