By Madison Whitman
Hunting is a great way to teach adolescents patience and respect for wildlife. It also provides an opportunity for fathers to connect with their children.
Turkey hunting, in particular, is challenging as they are elusive birds, but their widespread population makes them accessible to hunt. The accessibility to turkey hunting makes it easy to create an adventure while teaching teenagers a few valuable life lessons.
There are two chances per year to shoot turkeys in most states; one between fall and winter and spring gobbler season. Feathered friends are more elusive and quiet in the fall. The warmth of spring makes it a better choice for family hunting. Plus, the sound of a gobbler in the morning instills excitement in kids.
Whether you decide to hunt turkeys with a shotgun or a bow, it is important to practice marksmanship. Turkeys are classically hunted with a 12-gauge shotgun. The bigger the bird, the bigger the load, and turkeys are larger than most people realize.
The target on a turkey is its head or neck area, making it more challenging to shoot. If paper targets are not accessible, then placing a can on the end of a two-foot-long stick makes a perfect target.
Taking teenagers hunting is not only a great way to spend time with them, but it gives them an opportunity to engage with wildlife and learn how to respect nature. It teaches teens how to be more observant and stay engaged by having them look for tracks, feathers, and pay attention to the sounds of wildlife.
Most importantly, turkey hunting provides teens with a chance to practice patience and hard work. It is very difficult to shoot a turkey, but also very rewarding. Dad gets a new story to tell while son or daughter gets the trophy.
These are lessons I learned myself as a teenager. Growing up in Virginia as a kid, my father would sit me on his lap and recount his favorite hunts and show me pictures of his best birds.
I had never hunted before, but listening to his stories inspired me to shoot a turkey myself. Leading up to the spring season, my father took me scouting in order to learn where the best turkey places might be for spring. Looking for signs took time, but it was fun to watch other animals in their natural habitat and learn their patterns.
When spring finally came, I missed my shot the first time a gobbler appeared. After expressing my disappointment to my father, he responded, “Shooting a turkey takes patience and practice. You have to really want it. But I promise once you finally shoot one, you know you’ve really accomplished something.”
The week following, my father let me devise a plan of my own on how to pursue the same bird. My plan involved setting up a decoy in a field the turkeys frequented. We set up under a row of trees alongside the field near the decoy.
It was a foggy morning and the grass was wet with dew. The familiar singing of a red-winged blackbird signaled that the forest was awake. I made a hen call and almost immediately the gobbler responded.
A few moments later, out of the fog stepped my big gobbler. I was so surprised that my call fell out of my mouth. As he walked towards the decoy I lifted the gun to my shaky shoulder, made a quick prayer, and shot.
This time he was down. All I could do was smile. Whether it was me or my father who was prouder, I will never know. Turkey hunting is one of my proudest moments as a teenager, and the lessons I learned that day are still applicable and valued now more than ever.