The love-sick gobbler had clearly been hit, but barely. At the shot, he frantically jumped, turned, ran a few steps, then took flight.
A second shot rang out, but in a matter of a couple seconds, the bird glided out of sight, never to be seen again.
I was frustrated as a viewer of this TV show. I wanted to see a dead turkey, and it looked like a chip shot.
I’m sure the hunting celebrity who pulled the trigger was far more upset about it than me though, and seemed utterly baffled in the moments after while he and the show’s host hashed it out just inside the tree line.
They both agreed the bird had been missed cleanly, then headed off to find the next fired-up tom.
I replayed the shot several times, trying to figure out exactly what happened. I wasn’t alone in my search for answers it seems, as YouTube labeled those few seconds the “most replayed” of the episode in the status bar.
A turkey hunter couldn’t have asked for a better opportunity, though it wasn’t all that exciting of a hunt. The bird gobbled all morning on the roost, then came across the field on a string just after fly-down toward the hunter, who’s calling was spot on.
Of course, being a sponsored show and all, the hunter had the very best gear money can buy, and was far better outfitted than most of us common folks could ever dream. He’d even ranged the bird at exactly 45 yards with a rangefinder before taking the shot.
Still, all he had to show for the hunt were two empty shotshell hulls and a bruised ego.
In no way, shape or form am I knocking the guy. In fact, I felt awful for him. I’ve certainly been in his shoes a few times, and it’s never fun.
But as hunters, missing or wounding game is a reality that we all face at one time or another. Sooner or later, the stars align just perfectly for everything to go all wrong.
Sometimes it can be difficult to bounce back from, especially when we know it wasn’t a clean miss, that an animal has been wounded, and that despite our best efforts, it won’t be located or recovered.
Those are the ones that sting the most.
Responsible turkey hunters do everything they can to mitigate missing or wounding birds. It’s the last thing any of us want.
Technology has provided us with many tools, and amazing pieces of equipment that benefit us in that pursuit. Rangefinders tell us exactly how far away a tom is so we don’t have to rely on our own estimates.
Incredibly well-engineered turkey loads and choke tubes enable us to take more ethical shots at longer ranges so we no longer need to work stubborn birds in close.
We have special turkey hunting optics, which can be mounted on our shotguns or bows to get us quickly and precisely on target instead of fighting nerves to settle a bead or pin on a gobbler’s waddles.
All of these wonderful gadgets absolutely make us far more lethal, and unquestionably more ethical turkey hunting machines.
But even with the best of everything — gear, circumstances and intentions — occasional misses are inevitable.
I’ve seen birds missed anywhere from 5 to 50 yards away. At least the bird at 5 yards was still one heck of an experience for the hunter, while the one at 50 yards wasn’t much of a hunt at all.
It doesn’t take a tremendous amount of skill to call a turkey to 50 yards. Getting them to 20 yards or under is a different story.
I don’t know many hunters who need a rangefinder to determine how far 20 yards is, and any legal turkey load will perform just fine in that situation. I always kind of liked the excitement of struggling to keep the bead of my shotgun, or the 10-yard pin on my compound bow steady before the shot.
Turkey hunting is meant to be challenging, exciting and up close. That’s why I fell in love with it years ago.
I generally have little interest in pulling the trigger or letting an arrow fly on a gobbler whose wings I can’t hear scraping the ground while he spits and drums.
I’m not averse to all the great hunting technology. I’m just more addicted to a challenge, which is exactly what I have ahead of me this spring when I hit the turkey woods with a recurve bow.
It will be nothing short of a miracle if I can even come close to pulling it off though. No sights, no rangefinder, no fancy gear: just a stick, a string and a turkey less than 12 yards away.
Will I miss? There’s a good chance of it.
But then again, even television hunting stars miss sometimes, and at least I’ll be the only one able to replay mine if it happens.