God’s Sense of Humor on Easter Weekend

It just figures.  Both my younger boys harvested their turkeys on opening day of youth season and so, according to the rules, they aren’t able to hunt again with their 2^nd turkey tag until the 2^nd week of regular season.  That gave dad a great opportunity to hunt in the turkey woods in total peace the first weekend of regular season.  No more worrying about getting to the woods while the kid’s gun, shells, or turkey tag is still at home on the table.  No more listening to wining because we are out of snacks.  No more listening to complaining because the Gameboy video player ran out of batteries.  Just dad and the great outdoors….and then God went and showed his sense of humor.  You see, it was supposed to be Easter but oh no,… instead of flowers, sunshine, Easter eggs, and turkey hunting we had a return of Noah and the Ark (and apparently all the turkeys were already on board the boat at Lake Spring, Missouri!) 

Eight of the twelve Anti-Sleep Monsters. Turkey hunting was a drowsy undertaking after a night with this rowdy bunch!

After finally getting to bed around midnight I awoke at 4:30 am to the sound of video games in the family room and Niagara Falls running off the gutters as the rain pounded on the roof.  Neither are encouraging sounds when looking for a good nights rest before turkey hunting.  After gathering all my hunting equipment and wading through the family room that smelled of wet mules from all the soaked teenagers sleeping on the floor, chairs, and couches, I got out the door heading for the farm.  By the time I got in the truck I smelled like a wet mule as well from the soaking I took running from the house.  “It will stop by the time I get to the farm,” I thought, wishfully thinking to myself.  But, by the time I got to Lake Spring it was raining even harder!  The trip from the truck to the ground blind was more of a swim than a hike…and those wet mules were in the ground blind with me all morning.  That was the prophetic beginning to my 3 days of turkey hunting bliss!

Taking their direction from the older boys, the 7 year old bunch put on ornery grins knowing that one day soon they too will be terrorizing the neighborhood at 11:00 pm during turkey season.
 

Saturday morning the wind had joined the rain as God’s sense of humor added insult to injury.  And while I did manage to hear a few gobbles, I’m still not convinced that they weren’t just ducks impersonating turkeys.  For 4 hours I sat in the ground blind calling every 20 minutes as the rain beat down so hard and loud that I could hardly hear my own calling let alone a gobbler answering my calls!  The wet mules were still in the ground blind too.

Even with wet-mule smelling anti-sleep monster teenagers controlling the home-front the weekend was not a total loss. There were morels waiting for me around the ground blind...I just had to get even more soaked to get them!

Finally, Easter Sunday morning arrived.  The night before the weather forecast had called for a brief intermission to the rain sometime Sunday morning.  Of course all the way to the farm and all the way to the ground blind it poured.  I promised my wife that I would leave by 9:30 am in order to get back to town for Easter Sunday family activities.  As I sat in the ground blind calling I was watching my watch and waiting for the rain to stop, as had been forecasted.  At 9:15 while it was still pouring rain I began packing up all the decoys and gathering all my equipment for the trip home.  At that time I had not heard a turkey all mourning long (I hadn’t heard anything but the sound or rain hitting the top of the blind!)  Now, this is no joke – at 9:25 am the rain stopped as I was exiting the ground blind. As I walked up the edge of the woods shaking my head in disgusted disbelief that the rain stopped just as I was leaving, I had walked about 30 yards from the blind and a turkey gobbled in the distance! Yes, God and Mother Nature have a sense of humor!  So says the One-Eyed Hillbilly.

Greg Stephens is a 35-year veteran & life-time student of the great outdoors. His column appears weekly in print & online publications. You can email him at gregstephens@one-eyedhillbilly.com. For more columns go to www.one-eyedhillbilly.blogspot.com.

Lessons from the Woods

This past weekend was a bit perplexing for us. Youth turkey season was over, regular turkey season hadn’t yet started, the fishing was getting in gear, and the morels were popping. My son, Coleman, and I were trying to decide what to do – hunt mushrooms or go fishing. I voted for mushrooms but Coleman quickly vetoed that idea – too much work. He wanted to boat around the lake and fish (no walking and no ticks!). Needless to say, we went fishing.

As we boated around the lake in the two-man boat, Coleman sat on my lap as I cast to the shore and reeled. Each time I hooked a fish he grabbed the pole and reeled it in. In between fish he played with the plastic worms in the worm tray of the tackle box. Now, instead of worms, grubs, tubes, etc., each occupying their own slot, I now have plastic potpourri in my tackle box. His grandfather would have held a court marshal if I had done such a thing! Disturbing the organization of dad’s tackle box was tantamount to shooting the TV screen with a bb gun during a St. Louis Cardinals World Series ball game – you better have your escape route planned! As we boated around the perimeter of the lake I started remembering back to some of the great laughs I’ve had in the Great Outdoors. The fun, excitement, lessons and laughs are what make the memories to be told around the campfire for a lifetime.


"Heck no I don't want to hunt mushrooms - too many ticks and chiggers!" Coleman Stephens proudly sporting another Missouri springtime largemouth.

With youth turkey season just over and regular turkey season just beginning I was remembering some gobblers that got away. One such true story was with a good friend and hunting partner, Scott Duncan. Scott and I were hunting together in the mid 1980’s at our farm at Lake Spring. It had been raining for 2 solid days and on the 3rd day of season the sun finally came out. As luck would have it the only turkeys we could find were out in the middle of a 30 acre field that had been disked for a foodplot the prior fall. There were 2 gobblers strutting in circles and several jakes and hens milling around.

After an hour long futile attempt to call the birds from the field we finally decided the split up and search for other birds. As we slipped off our separate ways I was thinking that I had no intention of leaving these gobblers in the field without having a go at them…and apparently, unbeknownst to me, Scott was thinking the same thing. I slipped off in the woods around the field calling occasionally and listening for other turkeys only to hear the strutters from the field answering my every call. Finally I could take it no longer – I was going to attempt an ambush. As I approached the field on all-fours I scanned the ground for any cover. It was so muddy that no one in their right mind would get on their belly and crawl through that muck so I was visualizing my route between the few clumps of grass and bushes tall enough to provide cover for me while on my hands and knees.

On all-fours I slowly made for the first leg of the route through the mud bog. I closed the distance to 150 yards as I arrived at the first clump of grass. The turkeys had not seen me. While keeping an eye on the hens I started on the 2nd leg, cutting the distance to 100 yards while crawling behind a multifloral rose bush. Now things were starting to get dicey because conditions were getting worse - the cover was getting smaller and humidity coming up from the wet ground was miserable. I had just started on the 3rd leg of the route when the commotion broke loose. It happened so fast that, at first, I couldn’t figure out what was happening. First, a hen that I had failed to see busted me from about 40 yards to my left. Just as she started putting the gobblers came out of strut and started running dead away from me.

"Uhh, Dad, there's no such thing as a half credit catch - whoever reels in the fish is the ONLY one who gets to count it!" Coleman Stephens setting dad straight on how to keep score when fishing.

This is where it started getting weird. To my right about 100 yards from me and 75 yards from the turkeys, a giant pile of mud jumped up and started shooting! I was so startled that I almost forgot to shoot myself. After all the commotion and shooting was over the turkeys were all in full retreat over the tree tops and we hadn’t cut a feather. The giant pile of mud started screaming and yelling, “You dumb *#!¢%$!” at the top of his lungs and it seemed to be directed at me! As I stood up I could see what appeared to be a giant mud slug trail from the edge of the woods out into the middle of the field…apparently I had been wrong - there was someone that would belly crawl in the muck! For the previous 30 minutes as he lay face down in the mud Scott had watched me crawl out across the field. He was trying to close the distance to shooting range when I spooked the hen. Now he was setting back on his knees in the mud and all you could see was a giant mud blob with two eyes holding a mud-caked shotgun and shaking his head back and forth in disgusted disbelief. I just started laughing. What a memory and what a lesson! Lesson to self - never think that it is too muddy to belly crawl across a field for a turkey – someone is willing to do it!

As Coleman and I road home in the truck that afternoon I learned another outdoor lesson. I mentioned to him that we had done pretty good fishing. He said, “Uh dad, you didn’t catch a thing. Only the person that reels in the fish gets to count it. Casting and hooking the fish don’t count for anything.” Lesson to self – you can never get one over on a 7 year old fisherman with an attitude. So says the One-Eyed Hillbilly.

Greg Stephens is a 35-year veteran & life-time student of the great outdoors. His column appears weekly in print & online publications. You can email him at gregstephens@one-eyedhillbilly.com. For more columns go to www.one-eyedhillbilly.blogspot.com.

Dad’s Best Hunting Day… EVER!

Forget big deer, pheasants in South Dakota, and even hunting in Alaska - it just doesn't get any better than this for a dad!

After hunting for 35 years from the coastal mountains of Kodiak Island, Alaska to the cornfields of South Dakota to the jagged peaks of the Colorado Rockies to the beautiful wooded ridges of the Ozark Mountains, how do you determine your best hunting day ever? As a young man in early 1990’s I thought it was the day that I harvested my biggest buck after calling him into an opening with a new-fangled noise maker called a grunt tube. I had spent $5.00 on the crazy thing and figured I had wasted my money. Dad laughed at me and said, “There’s a sucker born every day.” Later that season after seeing an 11 point bruiser slip into a densely wooded creek bed in front of me I figured I had nothing to loose and I pulled out the call and grunted. To my great surprise the buck grunted back and I heard the leaves crunching. As I crouched in the high blackberry briers and grass, he walked out of the woods and into the brushy field in search of the source of the grunt and the rest is history…and he’s on the wall. At that point in my life it was the most exciting day of hunting that I had ever experienced… and my dad went out and bought a grunt tube! But, that day is now far surpassed.

"Dad, are you kidding?! I can't carry this crazy bird and the gun all the way back to the truck by myself!" 1st time spring turkey hunter, Coleman Stephens with his first turkey at 6 years old.


I started taking my kids to the woods in 1996. Just taking the kids hunting and seeing the excitement in their eyes surpassed anything I had ever achieved in the woods. My oldest son, Jason killed his first turkey and deer in 1997 and my outdoor life was forever changed. Taking my next oldest son, Mitchell proved just as an exciting experience as we saw strutting gobblers around every turn. He and I joke and laugh to this day about all the near misses! My next son, Alex, found success early in his hunting career, harvesting his first deer at 5 years old and his first gobbler at 6 years old! Finally, my youngest son, Coleman, started his hunting career last fall at age 6 during turkey and deer season. I have been blessed with the good fortune of teaching my children to hunt. These experiences are each ranked equally at the top of the list of ‘best ever’. How could you possibly ever surpass a ‘best day hunting’ with anything better than spending it with an eager child? Well, how about two of the children harvesting their quarry on the same day – opening day, on two different hunts and while you are right there with them. For a dad that would rank as the best day hunting ever…and that is just what happened last weekend.

2-shot Coleman Stephens with Dad and Lucas Adey posing with Coleman's first score in the spring turkey woods.

Coleman and I had the extreme good fortune of having the greatly accomplished turkey caller and turkey call maker, Lucas Adey, of Bean Creek Outdoor Products, Licking, Missouri tag along with us. Lucas loves to take young folks to the woods to see them harvest their first turkey and he was coming along with Coleman and me to tag-team on the calling chore. After narrowly missing an opportunity on two gobblers just after fly-down we relocated to a spot where a woodlot, a brushy field, and a clean field all come together with a fence separating each habitat type.

Nothing like waking up from a good nap to find a big gobbler 35 steps in front of you! Alex Stephens with his 1st 2011 spring gobbler - still one to go!

As we sat to call we had gobblers in front of us in the clean field in full strut and we had jakes answering from behind in the woods. As Lucas and I teamed up cackling and cutting back and forth with each other the gobblers and jakes were working into a frenzy. The gobblers in the field were thundering with each call from the Bean Creek 3 reed v-cut that I was using and the 2.5 cutter Lucas was using. The jakes behind us were gobbling and squawking as they circled around into the bottom field below us.

As we watched 5 jakes at 75 yards down the fence file into the open and attempt to gobble and strut I was getting excited. I soon understood that Coleman was going to need more excitement as he yawned and whispered back to me, “Dad, can I have a snack?” I was as nervous as a pet coon during a high fur market year and he wanted a candy bar! Either this kid has nerves of steel and was going to be a great hunter or he’s going to need bungee chords and parachutes to get him excited. Anyway, the jakes finally made their way to our decoy set and as Coleman sat between my legs and aimed the H&R youth model .410 at the lead bird, at 15 steps he squeezed off a shot…and missed! The jakes immediately started putting and walking away when Lucas realized Coleman had missed and he started cutting and calking. Lucas’ calling relaxed the birds a little as I, over Coleman’s shoulder, broke open the single shot shotgun, reloaded it, cocked it, and whispered to shoot again. At 25 yards Coleman pulled down on the same jake that he had just missed and at the crack of the gun down went the young gobbler! My 6 year old had just bagged his first turkey with two shots from a single-shot shotgun! You don’t get that opportunity too often.

The proudest hunting daddy in the world! The One-Eyed Hillbilly with sons, Coleman and Alex and their opening day, 2011 gobblers.

As soon as we got back to the farm house my oldest son, Jason and my 13 year old, Alex came in from the woods. They had heard many gobblers and had some close to them but had not made the connection. I took Alex and went back to the same spot we had just left. We were met with utter silence as we sat down and called to the birds that I knew were still close by. After about an hour Alex started nodding off in the warm sun and I wasn’t far behind. I called every 15 minutes and scanned the field. After about 2 hours I had nodded off for a few minutes and lifted my head to call. Out of nowhere there he was, 40 yards out in front of us – a big gobbler! I whispered to Alex, “Wake up, there he is.” Alex opened his eyes wide in hazy disbelief! Without being told, he then displayed true turkey hunting maturity and waited for the gobbler to put his head behind a tree and he then lifted his gun into position. As the bird came out the other side the 20 gauge roared into action and at 35 steps down went the big tom. He weighed in at 23 pounds with a 9 inch beard and 3/4 inch spurs. This was the culmination of my best hunting day EVER.

Grandpa's only hope to best his current 'Best Hunting Day EVER'. Addison Jean Bass in her urban camo...she had a neon pink Cricket .22 rifle the day she was born - You go girlfriend!

That night I was almost in distress. As I lay in bed wondering about the next 40 or so years of hunting that I hope to do I couldn’t help but be disturbed about how I would ever top this day – two young sons harvesting turkeys on the same day and I was there calling for both of them. And one of them harvested his first bird ever. Then I remembered – I’ve got a grand daughter and another grand child on the way! Grandchildren trump children, right! And then great-grand children trump grandchildren. Man, I’ve got a lot of BEST EVER hunting days left! So says the One-Eyed Hillbilly.

Greg Stephens is a 35-year veteran & life-time student of the great outdoors. His column appears weekly in print & online publications. You can email him at gregstephens@one-eyedhillbilly.com. For more columns go to www.one-eyedhillbilly.blogspot.com.

 

Youth Turkey Season a Political Statement?

You ever get concerned about our society? This past weekend in spite of the cold weather my son, Alex and I tried to fish. While fighting the cold north wind as we casted into the shore from the boat I had a rather profound thought (1st time for everything!) that forced me to take pause and if you are an outdoors person in the Ozark hills you might take pause too. Did you ever consider that your very life in the outdoors is a political statement to someone? It’s true!

Political just for fishing? Angler Alex Stephens jerking the lips off a largemouth bass.

You probably never considered it but this spring while you are jerking the lips off a largemouth bass with a buzz bait there’s someone in Los Angeles parading around naked as a jay bird in front the a federal courthouse holding up a picture of that poor bass with fat lips from all those hooks. Can you imagine how much time this naked person has spent demonstrating in order to direct attention to the plight of the homeless, the starving, the sick, and endless other needy folks all over the world before they got down to demonstrating for lowly fish lips? I mean, I’m sure these folks aren’t quacks who would devote time to fish lips exclusively instead of addressing the truly urgent needs of mankind first, right? Of course not – they have their priorities right. But, they don’t believe in your right to fish so, believe it or not, when you are fishing, hunting, trapping, camping, mushrooming, horseback riding, or anything else we associate with rural life in the Ozarks, you are making a political statement to someone.

Refreshing your daughter's gun safety knowledge prior to turkey season - a political statement or a way of living in the hills? There's nothing political about this lesson for Ellis and Natalie Floyd - it's all business.

It’s funny but I never really considered my 6 and 13 year old sons as politically active. But, I guess this April as they throw their .410 and 20 gauge shotguns over their shoulders and head for the turkey blind they are making a statement of their own. I reckon there’s a fella in Washington D.C. in front of the Capitol building dressed up as the Grim Reaper waving a sign with a turkey drum stick painted on it and with words that read, “Tofu not Turkey.” I’ll wager the Thanksgiving meals at his house are ones to remember.

"What's politics?" 5 yr old Remington Floyd practices with his BB gun preparing for his first turkey season next year as dad, Ellis Floyd, watches closely.

The precious picture I take of my two young sons in their camouflage with their shotguns prominently displayed at their sides as we return from our first morning hunt will be a political statement to someone too. As I look over our pictures of years past in the Great Outdoors I see the simple and natural Ozark life in the Great Outdoors. I see a snapshot of my children that will hold them forever young for an ever-aging parent. I see my boys learning a heritage and outdoor activity that will provide lessons, food, and exercise for a lifetime. This is not political, rather, just life in the hills. However, to the lady in front of City Hall in San Francisco dressed in a Halloween corpse costume with a red stained tee shirt, holding a sign of a camouflage hunting shotgun with words that read, “No Assault Rifles”, she sees my boys as future Hannibal Lecters. I wonder if the boys sister doesn’t sometimes think the same thing…I know my sister did!

A precious picture indeed! Family friends Ellis, Natalie, and Remington Floyd with their turkey hunting 'assault rifles' just before turkey season 2011.

It was hard to get in the turkey hunting mode last weekend with the turn of bad weather but we will be at the farm patterning our shotguns this weekend. We will have on our camouflage garb in true hillbilly redneck fashion while somewhere on the streets of Paris a fashion industry student will be wearing camo and fake fur with a sign that reads, “No redneck fur killers allowed.” Of course he’s got a leather belt, purse, and shoes to go along with his neon-pink hair.

A redneck hillbilly fur killer? No, an educated and informed participant in Mother Nature (oh, and yes, a hillbilly!). The One-Eyed Hillbilly with an otter at Moose Head Lake.

It is strange to think that just living our lives has become the source of political efforts by people who think they have the right to take away how we live! I find that amazing and alarming. So this year in order to be more politically correct I’m going to keep a low profile with my meat-eating, fur and camo wearing little Hannibal Lecters – I’m not going to let them color their hair pink. We need to keep a low profile.

A camo wearing little Hannibal Lecter? No a beautiful little boy, Coleman Stephens, spending time with his dad learning the ways of the Great Outdoors (and no pink hair!).

Finally, in closing this fun foray into the silly yet very serious world of our way of life in the hills intertwined in politics I would like to leave you with this interesting email that I received that demonstrates how we are part of political thought just by being hunters in the hills:

There were over 600,000 hunters this season in the state of Wisconsin.

Allow me to restate that number.

Over the last several months, Wisconsin 's hunters became the eighth largest
army in the world.

More men under arms than in Iran .

More than in France and Germany combined.

These men deployed to the woods of a single American state to hunt with
firearms, and no one was killed.

That number pales in comparison to the 750,000 who hunted the woods of
Pennsylvania and Michigan 's 700,000 hunters, all of whom have now returned
home.

Toss in a quarter million hunters in West Virginia and it literally
establishes the fact that the hunters of those four states alone would
comprise the largest army in the world.
The point?

America will forever be safe from foreign invasion with that kind of
home-grown firepower.

Hunting -- it's not just a way to fill the freezer. It's a matter of
national security.

That's why all enemies, foreign and domestic, want to see us disarmed.

Food for thought when next we consider gun control.

So says the One-Eyed Hillbilly.

Greg Stephens is a 35-year veteran & life-time student of the great outdoors. His column appears weekly in print & online publications. You can email him at gregstephens@one-eyedhillbilly.com. For more columns go to www.one-eyedhillbilly.blogspot.com.

A Boy and His First Shotgun

I still have the first gun my dad ever gave me. It hasn’t been used in over 30 years but I remember it well. It’s a Montgomery Ward bolt action 16 gauge modified choke shotgun. Man what a prize! As a kid I missed more turkeys with that darn thing than a hound has fleas. The first few years I used it, it was longer than I was tall and it felt like it weighed as much as I did. Truthfully, it’s little more than a boat anchor, but I would never trade or sell it for anything. It and I stood together in front of my dad as he gave it to me when he said, “You can have this one.” It and I grumbled and cried together in the woods when my dad asked incredulously, “How did you miss that one?” As far as shooting is concerned it’s like that old flea-bitten hound on the porch – it’s bark is definitely worse than it’s bite. But, it and I have history. It’s part of the family’s outdoor story.

Passing on the heritage with a shotgun that fits a kid a little better than an old 'boat anchor' 16 gauge bolt action - the One-Eyed Hillbilly, Greg Stephens and his 6 yr old son, Coleman getting ready for spring turkey season.

Things have changed a little over the years. Way back then we got hand-me-down guns that dad didn’t figure he would ever need again. It was always the wrong length, action, gauge, and choke to be of any use. These days the gun manufacturers have figured out that those old boat anchors don’t fit the kids and now they make little guns sized just perfect! You would think that aspect alone would break down many barriers to getting kids into the woods but with the improvement in youth sized hunting guns there is also vastly increased competition for the attention of a child. I have to compete with something called an Xbox 360 and it’s not a .36 caliber rifle of any sort! I just can’t understand playing a video game over going shooting or hunting. Of course the kids say, “Dad, we can play hunting games on the console!” There’s another term I don’t understand. To me, a console is in a car. Anyway, it’s hard to eat a digital turkey…makes real thin soup.

If Dad can call in a turkey then Coleman can put it in the freezer! Coleman Stephens puts plenty of shot in the target down range to harvest a big gobbler.

This past weekend my 6 year old son, Coleman, and I set out to pattern his .410 H&R shotgun for the upcoming youth turkey season. Coleman is pretty easy to convince when you anti up a chocolate shake for the ride to the shotgun range. We went to Uncle Mike’s house out towards the Meramec River. We set up the target and Coleman sat on an old galvanized bucket and used a saw horse for a rest. His little H&R .410 youth model is chambered for 3” shells and we were shooting #6 shot. The first shot was at 15 yards and Coleman poured it on thick! We shot three more times to make sure he was on target. We now know that if dad can do his part and call a turkey into our set, then Coleman can shoot good enough to bring home the meat! No digital soup for us.

A proud and excited young man with his first shotgun - Coleman Stephens patterning his .410 for turkey season.

Youth turkey season is April 9th and 10th and regular season is April 18th through May 8th. This is a great time of the year to get in the woods and hunt turkeys with the kids. During the youth portion of the spring turkey season a properly licensed child can legally hunt with a properly licensed and hunter education certified adult. Hunting hours are extended to all day during youth season. In order to keep a young and fidgety hunter concealed I suggest using a ground blind. The blind provides for maximum concealment along with comfortable chairs and places to store snacks for the hunters (you can even bring in video games…much to my protests).

Now that’s how you pepper a target! Coleman standing beside the target with his .410.

This past weekend as I watched my youngest son practicing with his first shotgun I was reminded of H. Jackson Brown’s book – Life’s Little Instruction Book, Vol. II. One of his quotes is: “Life will sometimes hand you a magical moment. Savour it.” As I watched this little boy bare down on his little .410 and fire I knew I was witnessing a rite of passage for a future outdoorsman. It was a magical moment - a young man, my little boy, with his first shotgun getting ready for turkey season. It just doesn’t get any better than this. And I am going to savour it! So says the One-Eyed Hillbilly.

Greg Stephens is a 35-year veteran & life-time student of the great outdoors. His column appears weekly in print & online publications. You can email him at gregstephens@one-eyedhillbilly.com. For more columns go to www.one-eyedhillbilly.blogspot.com.