Really looking forward to Turkey Season this year, going to smoke the legs and wings and convert the breasts to nuggets. Last couple of years I have been resting on my income and not that interested in harvesting my own food. This year I am going to use every opportunity I have to harvest as much meat as possible. Have already been harvesting Salmon and trout, this will be my first hunt of the year though and really excited.
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I’ve never hunted turkeys. I’ve had plenty of opportunities to dispatch them on ranches I’ve worked on or at my brother’s house.
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One of my favorite ways to fix wild turkey breast is to cut it into small cubes, bread/season, and deep fry; ruffed grouse is also excellent fixed this way. Of course, pretty much anything is good deep fried.
A couple of years ago, my wife and I hosted Thanksgiving for the family and fixed wild turkey schnitzel, which was quite a hit. The entire meal that year was sourced from my fish and game harvest and our garden. It was very rewarding to fix an entire meal for the family that was sourced self sufficiently.
Unfortunately, turkey numbers have been declining here the past few years. Places where I used to hear a dozen or more birds at daybreak have become nearly silent. I rarely hear more than three birds a morning, if any, and they’re usually well inside the boundaries of property I don’t have permission to hunt. I’m looking forward to season but don’t have great expectations of harvesting any birds this year.
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That is exactly what I am talking about when I say nuggets, cannot wait to get my fill on them.
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There’s nothing more intense and exciting (or sometimes, frustrating) than coaxing a big gobbler in on a spring morning. No matter how perfect the setup, there are so many variables that can’t be predicted. It almost feels like you’re stalking a sniper that is gunning for you; one tiny misjudgment and ole Tom will bust you and be gone in an instant.
One of the last birds I killed stopped gobbling and came in silent. I suddenly heard his wings dragging the ground just behind my left shoulder and sat frozen, almost afraid to breathe. When he gobbled, I felt it in my chest and realized he was less than three yards away from me. Just as when I began hunting them as a kid, my gun barrel started shaking in excitement (or maybe anxiety) as I waited for what seemed like an eternity, as he strutted behind me, to see how the hunt would unfold. He finally spotted Tina, my faithful decoy, and almost brushed against me as he moved from my 6 and into view. I was carrying a 12/.223, scoped double gun, so I couldn’t see him through the scope as he passed at such close range. After waiting another eternity, he finally moved out to almost 12 yards, which allowed me to scope just his head and cleanly harvest him with the 12 gauge barrel.
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