Father
Spring 2021- Three Turkey Hunting Incidents, Two Fatalities.
Half way thru the spring season in our nation, millions of turkey hunters have already worn out some serious boot leather across the southern zones of the USA. It is expected that we return home from a full day hunt or mid day to the local diner just in time for the firehouse siren at twelve sharp. This season, two hunters will not return and a third escorted to the local hospital. The very low statistics does little to comfort, or to avoid the lump in our throats when we think of it. A fourth victim is being tracked for more info, and is lacking crucial details.
Hopkinsville, Kentucky- One of those fatally shot was very young, 11 years old, reported as an accident, self inflicted.
Official: Boy fatally shot in apparent hunting accident
Shasta County, California- One adult hunter shot another, reported as a “sound shot.” Very few details as to how it came together. It is also reported alcohol is suspected to be involved and an investigation is on going. The wounded hunter was airlifted to Mercy Medical Center and is reported in critical condition.
Hunter Shot After Being Mistaken For Turkey
https://sacramento.cbslocal.com/2014/04/14/hunter-shot-after-being-mistaken-for-turkey/
Pierre, South Dakota- A father and son team bow hunting for turkeys has turned tragic, the father was struck by an arrow from his adult son’s bow, and further details have not been released. The father succumbed to his injuries and an investigation is on going.
South Dakota man fatally shot by son’s arrow in apparent hunting accident
Two and half million turkey hunters that engage in the outdoors each season. The incident rate is reported at 0.003% in an average year that an errant shooting occurs while afield. That is all well and good in the realm of actuaries and statisticians. The families and friends of these three hunters will find no comfort in it. We can do better.
Please indulge me for repeating in my posts:
The following tips, good practices are well advised for your safety and that of others:
- Avoid wearing the bright colors of a gobbler’s head, red, white, or blue. Large areas of black may resemble the body of a turkey. These are turkey colors, and another hunter may mistake you for a bird.
- Be 100% sure of your target. Check your foreground and your background. Those extra seconds of making sure can save a life!
- Always keep the muzzle pointed in a safe direction. Don’t rely on your gun’s safety. Treat every gun as loaded.
- If you see another hunter, don’t move- any motion can be mistaken for a turkey. Instead, call out to alert the other hunter that you are there. Do not wave or attempt to get up, or use a turkey call to alert the incoming hunter.
- Do not stalk turkey sounds; it could be another hunter. Find a good setup with your back to a tree, rock, or other large natural barriers wider than your shoulders. Then go about working to call the birds to you. Stalking is illegal in many states.
- You may consider placing a hunter orange ribbon high on a tree to help other hunters identify your location, or wear on your person entering or leaving. It is a legal requirement by some states, do not assume orange to be an end-all for safety. Always identify your quarry and what may be in front of, behind, or to either side. You have no guarantee that others are wearing orange…
- Reconsider the assumed risks of using “tail-fanning” or “reaping’ techniques (using gobbler decoys, a synthetic fan, or real tail feathers) out immediately in front of you, mounted on your gun barrel or a head/hat mounted product while crawling or stalking. A fan may be large enough to hide you from view from other hunters and you may falsely assume they will properly identify you vs. a real gobbler.
- Always let someone else know where you will be and when expected to be back via text, email, or phone message. In an emergency, precious minutes can make all the difference for someone to direct first responders to your location or for someone to know when you are late returning.
We owe it to ourselves and to each other to act and hunt in a safe manner and promote the best practices to ensure we all get to come back the next season to spend time in the great turkey woods and with all of God’s creations.
I will update as more details are published. We pray for those injured, that have succumbed to their injuries and for their families. May they heal well Godspeed.
-MJ
© 2021 Mike Joyner- Joyner Outdoor Media
Wild Turkey Gobbler Shoots Poacher
This little gem from the past comes from a Buffalo News story published April 25th, 1992 that occurred in Potosi, Missouri. One of those “You can’t make it up” stories.
Larry Lands, a local hunter in his early forties and his sixteen year old son Larry Jr. decided to get a week long head start on the 1992 Missouri Spring Wild Turkey opener. After poaching a wild turkey gobbler the stacking of things that could go wrong, did and did so with a vengeance.
As reported, the gobbler after being shot and thought expired was placed in the trunk of the car intact along with a loaded shotgun. As some engaged in out of season poaching might be discreet, somewhat stealthy in their actions this was not the case in this matter. The father and son proceeded to a neighbor’s residence for bragging rights and to show off the bounty of their preseason jaunt.
As Larry’s son retrieved the gobbler from the trunk, the bird began flopping and succeeded in grabbing the shotgun by the trigger guard and fired a round through the car’s exterior at Larry Sr. The bird’s attempt at retribution failed ultimately, but did result in a leg wound that was later treated at Washington County Memorial Hospital. Larry Sr, was reported in stable condition at the time of the original story.
Sheriff Skiles is quoted “The turkeys are fighting back,” “They’ll probably be fined.”
A records search did not reveal if weapons charges related to a loaded weapon in the vehicle or shooting protecting game out of season were levied or any penalties resulting from court actions.
-MJ
© 2021 Mike Joyner- Joyner Outdoor Media
Memories of the Hunt, the Old Sweater
Opening weekend of New York Southern Tier firearms season for whitetails is in the books as one of thirty four seasons spent in the great forests of my home state. Thanksgiving morning, holiday weekend hunts to follow are eagerly anticipated as in the past. Deer camp has certainly changed from a deer camp weekend with a monday opener to a Saturday opener. I do miss the weekend of camp as a prelude to opening day.
With thirty three seasons under my belt it is the time with others that I recall more fondly, reminisce about the most. It is during these solemn moments to recount the hunts of years gone by. Hours in a favored stand, before first light, the often quiet surroundings as the evening sets gives plenty of opportunity to ponder. The day ebbs and flows and is not a constant parade of quarry, and often times the moment of truth occurs in just a view brief moments.
I recall most all the hunts, in all melancholy, days I hunted alone, with others, what was seen, what deer we tagged. As I grow older it takes a bit more time to exact some of them. The task of returning to the truck were sometimes epic efforts before the commonplace of atvs that made for far less dragging and the sore bones and aching muscles. It was always a welcome pleasure to have a few in the hunting party that could double as a front line tackle for a pro football team.
Deer camp is always the best. Annual get togethers and catching up on another years worth of living. Difficulties were discussed in good company and you would have any and all support required. Announcements of job changes, retirements, weddings, the births of children, grandchildren and we would also learn of those passed and their presence in camp would be in spirit. As I said, it’s the best.
It is for the most part a heartwarming reminiscing in appreciation of others, time in the great forests, time with family and friends. It is also a time to remember those that have passed, time with fellow hunters whose lives have changed. placing them in far away places and past friendships that have concluded as people change, not always for the better. As such they are memories of places and times I am fortunate to have. Deer camp embraces a full cross section of folks and our way of life. Away from work, the demands of daily life that I truly love the traditions of opening day, opening weekend in a well known, and familiar deer stand.
My bride of 18 years and I would be the only ones on our ranch this past weekend, a first in a very long time. Sightings leading up to this past weekend were excellent, and our hit list was longer than many years in the past. One brute of a buck I named pile driver from an encounter I had with him two years ago. The buck was not captured on a single game cam. He went without being spotted before, during or after season last year. This fall he came back to the area, and grew in many ways. He still evades the cams.
Having passed on small does and bucks during archery season, it has been my personal choice to only cull a few does in keeping with our current management plan and take only racked bucks. It is not a statement on other’s choices, but is ours to reach a specific goal on our place. There was a time where a fork horn or small six would be big news on our hillside and where it was common to see 15-17 does for every scrub buck we saw. Eighteen years later we expect to see a few good eight pointers and a few in Pope and Young, Boone and Crockett territory.
With fresh snow and a day in the stand ahead, I donned a familiar old sweater. For some it is a trusted old shotgun or rifle that is a link to the past generations, for me this was a present for my very first deer season, from my parents in 1985. My father, and my grandfather had stopped hunting long before I became of age despite being hard core Adirondack deer hunters that would boat plane into remote lakes for weeks at a time. Knowing as I do now, I would have loved to experienced that so many years ago.
The old sweater is an offering from the Remington sporting line of clothing, heavy wool with a padded shoulder patch, and rather oversized. My “lucky sweater” is of great warmth and comfort in the most miserable of hunting conditions. For me it is a direct connection to my parents who now have both passed. A most practical gift and with an emotional attachment and comfort to still have it. It is an essential must wear item on many cold days in the forests. Far more meaningful than the knitting of wool threads and practical use it would otherwise suggest. In retrospect it is one of the very few items that has remained in use since my first season.
In difference to many deer tracks and beds spotted from the day before, only one doe was seen early. No shot opportunity with thick stand of saplings between us. Nevertheless, it was early light excitement and enjoyable to watch her walk along in a most casual way. The typical volley of shots we normally expect to ring out in the valleys below and on our hill were far less frequent than past years.
Lee and I would do a few short pushes to each other, with no sightings to report. Sunday was even quieter and we would come across fresh beds from the night before just above our log home. One bed and a set of giant buck tracks suggested a bit of mockery and a teaser challenge. Challenge accepted of course. On both days, my legs and hands would start to cool, my trusty old sweater kept me toasty warm as it had so many hunts in the past. I thank my parents for so much they did for me. I am inclined to silently repeat this often.
All in all, a quiet opening weekend. A good time afield and time on our land is highly coveted with the busy lives we lead. As the season marches on, I wish you many good days in a deer stand, a great deer camp with friends!
-MJ
© 2018 Mike Joyner- Joyner Outdoor Media
#deerhunting #oldsweater #deercamp #family #deerstand
A Thankful Thanksgiving
As the despot author of turkey-talk.com blog I take advantage of and make it a prerogative to steer nearly anything into to something about wild turkeys. Thanksgiving of course lends itself to it without any effort at all. My comments on our time honored holiday comes after a 27 hour stint working at my office.
When working thru an entire calendar day you become acquainted with the wee hours of the morning without distractions or the busy, busy of modern living. Not at all dissimilar to the quiet sanctum of the turkey woods which I so much favor. Easy to become a fan of early hours AM radio where you listen to some very bizarre and out there broadcasts as the night owls relinquish their very deep and most inner thoughts. It does give one’s self the time set aside to let your mind wander, and exercise how deep the rabbit hole goes.
In the work that pays the bills, designing image sensors, it entails long hours staring at very large screens. The discipline comes with its own technical language and deep concentration which is typical of the engineering vocations. While designing requires tasks such as DRC’s (design rule checks) and LVS (layout vs Schematic) one may have some time on their hands depending on how large a design it is.
On this thanksgiving I am thankful that in my work a task that would take not twenty years ago many man days to run on $200K-$300K worth of software in a half million dollar computer room now runs on a laptop ( a $5K-$7K CAD platform) and takes 90 seconds to a few minutes to run on $80k worth of software. To add to that that it is far more accurate, in-depth and more useful than it was just a few decades ago. It use to be you would set it up and hope to have some results the next day or maybe be a day or two later. The down side is you can stay on top of it and work far too many hours straight in one sitting. What would take several weeks to accomplish was finished off in a little more than 27 hours.
As owner of my own tech company I crack my own whip. I am thankful I live in a country where I can create my own job, my own lively hood, and continue with the profession I have dedicated my life’s work to. All this back ground sets up the late night experience where I could take inventory of pluses and minuses at my leisure.
Although my time afield currently is a fraction of what it might be of any other year, what few precious hours at the base of an oak tree or in a deer stand has been as they always have- monumental, and cleansing of the soul. I have yet to aim my cross hairs on a game animal, although I worry little about it as it is time in my sanctuary and the freezer will be filled when the timing, opportunity and preparedness align at the same moment. It is an end goal, a tangible conclusion, but not the prime reason to be afield.
As I often intertwine my love of the turkey woods with my work as an engineer, as a writer, they are a small snapshot of my being whereas my most important roles as husband, father, a son, a grandfather, a friend are what makes me whole.
In my pre-dawn hours of Thanksgiving morning slaving away to the digital gods that I call earning a living. I am most thankful for Lee, my wife who tolerates my all-encompassing live style and made an awesome thanksgiving feast this afternoon. I am most thankful to our children, grandchildren. I am also thankful to make a living and despite my flirting with the devil in so many long hours I am in reasonable health although not perfect or in my best representation. I am thankful for my time in the turkey woods, in God’s amphitheater for the time spent there, and for the life lessons taught while afield. I am also thankful for my upbringing and for my parents whom have now passed on. It is a heartache that they are now gone, yet heartwarming to have had them as my rock. It is the natural order of things.
It is my warmest wishes that you had an awesome time with loved ones, with family and that you find your days in your vocation, and your days afield truly inspiring
-MJ
© 2017 Mike Joyner- Joyner Outdoor Media
Random, almost 55……5 weeks to Opening day
What had given me the seed, the basis for this blog, was a friend reaching out during difficult times. I’ll keep the particulars private as really they should be. I was able to offer some help, kind words from my own experiences, and more importantly offer my honest opinion to them as “you may have this skewed opinion of yourself, bullshit, trust me, this is what I see”. The truth, especially when it is positive and uplifting has its place when applied well. Today it was.
Part of what I wish to convey is a mile marker in a timeline that is my life story. Everyone has their own version of course. Turning 55 next March is one of those “I have arrived moments” for senior discounts, and other reminders of a perception of age. Today seems the day for me to express it.
Mentally I have crossed that line of becoming more reflective, where am I in terms of a grand plan, what does the next 50 years look like (Should I have superior genes, not claiming so, hoping… yes). My days in the turkey woods give me plenty of time to think, reflect, adjust my view and most importantly. relax and recharge my batteries. They’ll be more of that coming in just a few weeks, and I’ll take advantage of each day I can get out there. Despite our winters I love the change of seasons.
Going through the final stages of releasing my new book I find a change in my writings, and that it has become in some ways more personal, and closer to how I genuinely feel as a hunter, and as a person. Is this a change for the better, maybe? It is true to the heart, and I hope that it is what seeps through the stories.
As I put a stake in the ground at this juncture, I am OK that my experiences, choices (good, bad , even so-so) give me the perspective I have today. It is not to say I wouldn’t mind or in some cases yearn to have the ability to go back and take an eraser to some of it. No one should come to my side to back me up and declare me an angel or a saint by any stretch of the imagination. What would scare me to my bones is to wonder who I would have become or how I would view the world had I not enjoyed the many great things in my life or suffered consequences of my own choices or by matter of circumstance. Not all that dissimilar to those time machine movies when one change unravels the thread of all that holds the universe together. The one regret that I do have that I have no one to apologize to in this regard is the loss of innocence that I had as a young man. Not a sexual one, but one of the world is all possibilities and go for it. I still go for it, but with the tempering of decades of learned experience. Some of that is useful, words of wisdom, but it is not the same as having unhindered enthusiasm without a second guessing a bit of it. It is a little bit of emotional freedom you give up for some glimpses of wisdom.
I would not trade my 54 years for anything as I have known all along there is no dress rehearsal. Those that follow my writings know that I live a blessed life in so many ways. It is not perfect nor without heartaches. I do enjoy the fruits of my labor, and can look back at many successful things I had been a part of. I do feel that I have made a difference. Some of it comes from my work, advances in medical video, image sensors, and vision systems engineering that I have been involved in. I have been fortunate to work with and learn from brilliant people that I know to be smarter than I. I have gained much from those experiences. I continue to feel there is so much more to do, that my to do list will most likely out live me. Most importantly I have the sense of purpose and that I have much more to experience and to accomplish. It is unlikely that I’ll figure out what I want to do when I grow up. I am more than Ok in that quest.
I cannot comment on such things without mentioning our children, grandkids, as they carry on who we are in some small measure. I am blessed abundantly there. There are a few family heartaches that breaks me down whether I care to or not, but you come to live with such things that are beyond your influence or control, and as my wife would say, pray. At a soon to attend wedding I’ll walk our daughter down the grass pathway to the impatient groom. Our family continues to grow.
We never know what a kind word might do to influence a chain of events. Sometimes we catch wind of such things, most of the time it dominoes and you never truly know what caused it to come about. As I become a little older I become a little bit better at this, and try to add to the day rather than just survive or get through it.
One of the things I have done is written a small book that tells all of my true feelings and araignements I desire when the time comes. I keep it up to date, and it is shared with very close family and a few who have been or are a significant part of my many years on the planet. I recommend that you do the same, to not leave anything unsaid to those that this would be so important.
In keeping with this being an outdoor blog, this is some of the many things that I think about and ponder when spending time up against a big maple or high up in a tree stand. To those that find this scattered and random I would agree it has been one of those kind of days 🙂
© 2014 Mike Joyner- Joyner Outdoor Media
Old Memories, New Memories- Good Times: 2014 New York Spring Turkey Youth Hunt
Since the inception of the New York Spring Youth Turkey Hunt, there have been plenty of memories made, and lots of pictures of young adults with smiling faces. For my hunting partner Paul Walling and I this has been our experience, and something we look forward to. Although my children were grown adults before the inception of the special youth season, I would take out a young hunter as the opportunities presented themselves. Like many of you, we would take out young hunters in regular season as well.
For this particular hunt, Paul and I would be taking Keller Pai out for this morning’s hunt. Keller has taken several gobblers in prior hunts, and has a few seasons under his belt. As much as Paul and I enjoy each other’s company while hunting, we would agree that taking out a young hunter is the highlight of the season. Paul grew up learning how to hunt while taught by his father, and that is something I appreciate very much as I did not hunt until my mid 20″s. My father was an Adirondack deer hunter, but gave that up after joining the Navy. The experience for us to take out Keller is especially rewarding as the morning would be full of lessons of the turkey woods, and recounting of past experiences of our escapades and that of Paul and his father.
Our plan ‘A’ for the morning was to visit one of our favorite haunts that we affectionately call “Shorties.” There is a lengthy story behind the name, and technically there are two possibly three separate stories depending how one parses it. A chapter in my first book “Hills of Truxton” was dedicated to this “special” gobbler and so named. Disclosing the exact location is of course misleading on purpose but I can tell you that it is a piece of state game lands south of Cortland, or was that northeast of Truxton? I arrived ahead of Paul and Keller at 5:16AM, only to find another truck parked there, and they had already headed in. As good as the place is, we very seldom run into other hunters there. I let Paul know that we needed to go elsewhere as we would not intrude on purpose, and would give them the courtesy that is due. We would regroup and try our luck at another favored spot a little more than a mile from where we were. We would find our plan “B” choice to be unencumbered, and appeared to had little vehicle traffic nor any one parking there recently. As a side note, we saw no other vehicles parked at the side of the road or at trail heads the remainder of the morning. In some respects the 2nd location and the logging trail along the bottom of a hill would provide an area shielded from the predominate wind that morning, allowing us to hear a ways off. Rain had tapered off long before daylight, although cool temps greeted us, it was much more comfortable being out of the wind. The morning would remained overcast and cloudy, no bright sunny day to warm things up today. A base layer, and light hunting jacket would suffice.
We would slowly work our way into the woods as the regrouping had us going in as the sky began to change and was getting light out. Paul knew the traditional roosting areas very well,and we could cover some ground without disrupting the birds as they waited to fly down. We quickly called up an owl, which did elicit a gobble from parts unknown in distance and only a general direction. The owl favored Paul’s rendition of an owl more so this morning, and would occasionally answer my efforts. Paul and I learned long ago, that with two callers, favored responses will switch back and forth over the course of the morning. It mattered little, as long as we got a response. For the first 30 minutes we would occasionally hear a gobbler, not at all close but in a direction that we figured to be where Plan “A’ would have taken place. I personally thought we would hear a shot come from there. Something that we never heard during our time there this morning. A slow start to be sure.
We eventually got out to a spot that overlooked a large drop off along the state land border. A few calls got a round house of gobbling and hen talk from a flock we figured to be a good quarter mile or further down the bottom of the overlook on private property. We sat down and decided to see what if anything the flock would do. By auditory appearances my guess would be several mature gobblers, a few jakes and at least a hen or two willing to talk. Most likely more hens than what we would like. They would gobble at any call we made, so we decided to wait a bit, and see if their feet were moving or just their beaks. Probably less than ten minutes, I did a short sequence on a mouth call that Paul makes for me, and got an immediate response, not more than a few hundred yards below us. We got an answer we were happy about. Wasting no time I moved back and over some from Paul and Keller. A few calls later the gobbles in response to our calls ceased and I figure either they were coming or working out the steep bank. After making a call with no response, I decided to hold off and see what they do. Paul and I read each other’s next moves pretty well, and when he called shortly after I had stopped it surprised me, even more so, the call was a very soft first yelp and finished just as soft. That is when I notice Keller’s shoulders tighten up. The game was on and target was in sight. The gun came up, and a moment later it roared. I was far enough back that I could not see the approaching bird.
We all got up, with Keller reaching the bird in mere seconds. It was a good sized jake, and he had wasted no time coming up the steep bank to get to us. Paul’s last call turned the bird enough to bring his path in front of them and within 30 yards. With the woods wide open which is typical for early season, it was great to not have the bird hangup 50-60-70 yards below our location. After tagging the bird and taking pictures we walked back only a little faster than we came in, listening for other gobblers as any intel is welcomed for the opener on May 1st. We did hear a few gobbles, but nothing close. Given our location, we were surprised to hear no other shotgun blasts, although Keller thought he heard one, far off and early.
Keller got a quick lesson as to how fast things can go from a gobble way over yonder to fast action with an even faster conclusion that can occur in the turkey woods. Something Paul and I have experienced many times and I would suspect that goes the same for many of you.
We concluded the hunt with a great breakfast at the local diner (location not disclosed) and then parted ways, headed for home. A short nap later that morning was most welcomed. Big congrats to Keller and a big thank you to Paul for what continues to be one of many great and memorable hunts.
© 2014 Mike Joyner- Joyner Outdoor Media
Happy Father’s Day
I am grateful for all the lessons you taught by example, rather than by dictate. You taught me how to be a man, the importance of honor, respect, honesty, work ethic, and sacrifice. As I age, I have found myself to be more and more like you. I have come to a point where I better understand what was important to you when I was growing up. The fact you were a good man, and a great father are qualities to aspire to. In that thought I strive to do just that.
We lost you way to early and it is painfully unfair. There has been so much good that has occurred since your passing, and I am all too happy to report. It would have been grande to have you here to share it with.
Happy father’s day
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