In February, before COVID-19 began to change the course of life, I participated in an afternoon of turkey-hunting seminars, followed by the 2020 Massachusetts State Turkey Calling Championships at the MassWildlife facility in Westborough. As usual, when sportsmen and women get together at an event like this, the conversations flow freely.
During the afternoon, I got into a conversation with two brothers which, not surprisingly, evolved into a question about hunting in general. Their question was, “If I could only participate in one type of hunting, what would it be?” This question caught me completely by surprise, and I’m sure my answer was not particularly good. Of course, I love all types of hunting and have participated in many phases of it ever since my father allowed me to accompany him on my first deer hunt ever at the age of 17. That perplexing question has stayed with me, however, so here, after having time to think about it, is the real answer that I should have come up with on that cold February day in Westborough.
Archery hunting for whitetail deer is something I’d be hard-pressed to ever give up or give the impression that it’s not my all-time favorite. Everything about it cuts straight to the heart of my life as a hunter, and only poor health would ever keep me from it. The homework needed to be successful, the countless hours spent in the woods, the quiet waiting that allows you to learn so much about the habitat, watching the landscape, and a whitetail’s life-cycle change day to day as the season progresses. The beauty of nature, the radiance of October, and the cold bitter reality of November.
The emotions of another lost opportunity, and the feelings that overwhelm you when success finally comes. All are intense experiences that are hard to explain to those who have never done it before. To give all this up by admitting that there may be another that I love more would seem like an act of betrayal. However, the truth, no matter how difficult, will eventually win out.
Another obsession, and passion, would be for wild turkey hunting. I’m convinced, and have been for some time now, that I possess a kindred spirit relationship with wild turkeys. When I’m not hunting them, I’m working for them, or talking about them, or I’m thinking about them, and on, and on it goes.
It’s hard to say when wild turkey hunting began to consume me — sometime in the late ’70s or incredibly early ’80s would be a safe guess. At that time, I was big into waterfowl hunting. But soon I realized that turkey hunting was forcing my old reliable duck and goose calls into semi-retirement. The sport just overtook me, and before I knew it, I was living the life of an up-at-dawn, over-the-edge, 365-days-a-year wild turkey man.
What was it that drew me in? It could have been those misty Green Mountain mornings in Vermont when the ground shook with the thunder of gobbling turkeys. It could have happened on a warm Texas evening while falling asleep listening to the gobbling of Rio Grande turkeys in the Southwestern twilight. It may have been in Missouri or Iowa while hunting those magnum Midwestern brutes. It could have been that spooky, but beautiful, cypress swamp in Alabama where I got twisted up following an old “swamp gobbler” who eventually got the best of me. Or, it could have happened in South Shelburne, kneeling beside another gift from God, while saying the prayer I always say whenever I take something from the forest. Finding that common thread that binds me to the souls of all wild turkeys and wild turkey hunters could have happened anywhere, at any time, or in any place where I experienced the humble joy, the quiet reverence, or the raw excitement that makes turkey hunting not just a sport but also a passion that, at times, almost becomes a religion. Wherever or whenever it occurred, the truth remains that I love wild turkeys and wild turkey hunting. I love the springtime woodlands and the thrill of their gobble every time I hear it. I love the heart-gripping suspense of a wild turkey coming to my calls while actually hunting me. Or maybe it’s just the beauty of this great game bird that leaves me in awe every time I encounter one up close. I absolutely love this. And I believe I always will.
So, “If you could only participate in one type of hunting, what would it be?” The answer to that question can only come on an individual basis by those who hunt. But, for me, the answer lies in the words I’ve just written, and I can’t bear to be any more specific. I’m just thankful this question will always remain hypothetical, with no semblance of reality to it. And frankly, if I never hear this question again that’ll be just fine with me.
Joe Judd is a lifelong hunter and sportsman. He is an outdoor writer, seminar speaker, and a 2019 inductee into the N.E. Turkey Hunting Hall of Fame. Joe is also on the Quaker Boy Game Calls and Bass Pro Shops/Cabela’s Pro-Staff.