My favourite part of hunting is the people, spending time with individuals who have not forgotten what matters most and our family is no exception. When we go hunting we have a blast, we spend hours in the woods enjoying life’s simple pleasures and each other.
My sister is growing up very quickly and has now started accompanying us jump shooting. Her first duck she shot was a teal and we do not have a dog, she shot it on the water and it was about 40 yards from shore. My father hauled out his trusty “floating jigger” which consists of a chunk of wood and some grappling hooks. Unfortunately the jigger was not going to work, there were too many obstacles. My sister and I decided we would make dad a bridge to go out and retrieve our ducks.
It was mid October, the water was getting cold, and the air was no better. With lots of dead wood piled up, our father began his journey to where the ducks were. The bridge did not hold up and dad’s boots ended up filling with water. He got the ducks, and continued to guide us for the rest of the day with wet boots. All I can say is how many dads would do that for their kids? I know ours always will.
Big fish are fun to catch and make for some amazing photos, but sometimes good things come in tiny packages. My parents being from the east coast means it would probably be blasphemous if we didn’t fish. We have gone after large pike, huge salmon, monster halibut, fancy-fly ins and remote lakes. But on this trip we were doing it old school style.
We were brook trout fishing in Newfoundland. A small pole, five pound test, a few hooks, a couple of bobbers, two dozen worms and we were on our way. Newfoundland is covered in rock, bog, and tiny fishing holes. Some ponds we have pulled fish out of make football fields look as big as oceans; this is prime brook trout territory. If there is a beaver damn there you are set.
I have been doing this every year with my father since before I was old enough to walk; he would simply throw me on his back and carry me in; those were the days.
This type of fishing is perfect for kids and novice fisherman. The gear is light weight, simple, and it makes for a perfect day trip. On a bad day we will each land about 18 fish, on a good day it is not difficult to reach 100. The entire island is a honey hole for brook trout. The ease of this trip and the constant action make it perfect to hold the attention of a novice fisherman. No matter how seasoned an angler you are this east coast treasure will get you hooked.
There are six different wild turkey species: the Eastern, the Merriam’s, the Rio Grande, the Osceola, the Goulds and the Oscellated. A grand slam consists of the Eastern, the Merriam’s, the Osceola and the Rio Grande. When you add a Gould’s to that, you have a royal slam, and when you add an Oscellated you have your world.
There is also the Canadian slam that consists of an Eastern and a Merriam’s harvested in Canada; and a Mexican slam that consists of a Rio Grande, an Oscellated and a Goulds all harvested in Mexico.
If you click here you will be taken to the National Wild Turkey Federation website, and you will see a full map detailing where each species of turkey can be found. As well you can see where there are now know hybrid (a mix of the different sub-species) populations.
Scroll down the page to see all six of my world slam turkeys!
On May 20, 2009 I became the first Canadian Female to complete a wild turkey world slam.
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The sixth and final bird I had to take to complete my world slam was the Eastern. The Eastern is the most common turkey and probably the easiest to access due to the vast land it covers; which makes it strange that this is my last bird I had to get; especially considering we live in Southern Ontario, with some prime Eastern habitat. I tried for an Eastern turkey for years and years without success. He had become my arch rival and he was winning. I had travelled to Kentucky, Missouri, Arkansas, New York, Pennsylvania, and of course right here in Ontario, with no luck. But with no other sub-species left I had no choice but to face off against the Eastern.
Through Advanced taxidermy I was put in touch with John Hunt from Hunt T.V. After a few quick phone calls I was off with John, my dad and John’s camera crew to kill my Eastern.
The first morning was rather shaky, we were late getting in and the wind was howling. We moved to lower ground with no success. My heart was in my throat, was I ever going to kill an Eastern? The next day we tried a whole new place and setup. We were setup in a tree line on the edge of a field. My dad started to call, a gobbler answered. My heart starting pounding, my mouth went dry, I was shaking, I was coming down with “Buck Fever.” I had to calm down and fast, because that gobbler was coming. The gobbler came into sight about 100 yards away, and then a hen appeared. “Oh no” I screamed in my head. She was curious and mad, she came right to us and got to about twenty yards from me, I was terrified she was going to bust us. The gobbler was strutting and I could see him through a patch of leaves. I put my bead on him and squeezed my trigger; he got hit, but not fatally. He began to run; I jumped up and pounded him twice. He was down, I couldn’t breathe. I started to run for him and passed out, the excitement was overwhelming. I regained my composure and went over to my bird; my sixth and final turkey for my world slam.
Continue scrolling down to see all six of my world slam turkeys!
This Merriam’s was taken on May 6, 2009, leaving one turkey left to complete my world slam. The bird weighed sixteen and a half pounds, an eight and a half inch beard and had three quarter inch spurs. It was shot in Devils Tower, Wyoming with Whitetail Creek Outfitters.
This was my first turkey of the 09 season, and my fourth species. This Osceola was shot with Brandon Storey in Okeechobee, Florida on April 11, 2009. It was a trophy bird, weighing twenty-one pounds, sporting a ten and a half inch beard, one, one and a half inch spur, and one, one and three quarter inch spur.
This was my fourth turkey and my third species of turkey, putting me half way to my world slam on May 9, 2008. He was taken in Campeche, Mexico with Balam Outfitters. He weighed ten and a half pounds, and had one and a half inch spurs.
Rio Grande Turkey, shot on the King Ranch in Texas on April 11, 2008. My first turkey was shot at the same place my little sister had shot her first turkey the previous year.
Getting the opportunity to hunt with Michael Waddell was incredible, and then getting to hunt with Brenda Valentine on the same trip was incomprehensible. On the second day I awoke earlier than the sun once again. Although I was not the one killing anything I was able to tag along on Brenda and Barney Valentine’s hunt. It was Barney’s first time shooting a Merriam’s turkey and I felt privileged to be along for the ride. Barney was up first, the rising sun painted the sky a soft shade of purple. Up on a ridge, a flock of turkeys strutted with the Wyoming sunrise as their back drop. Brenda and Barney sat against two separate trees with their guns pointed towards the empty field, waiting in anticipation. Two gobblers strutted in, Barney smoked his, and Brenda pulled her trigger and missed. We all watched as her bird made a clean getaway. She got up, laughed it off and was beyond excited about Barney’s bird. Brenda has no problem with the fact that she had missed, she didn’t beat herself up over it, she simply said “everyone misses, and with all the hunting I do, it’s bound to happen.” She showed more grace and poise then I had ever seen. She taught me that everyone misses and anyone who tells you they don’t is a liar.
After trying a few more setups with no luck, we headed back to the house for lunch and decided we would try again for Brenda’s bird that afternoon. After a hefty meal, and a quick nap we were back in the field. This time my sister decided to join us after sleeping in all morning. The afternoon was warm and the birds seemed impossible to get going, we decided to sit down in some tall pines and have a break. Then out of nowhere a gobble shattered the silence. Brenda, the guide and camera man headed down a hill towards the gobble, Danielle and I hung back and watched from the top. The bird started coming in from a long way. He strutted all the way across the field and right into Brenda’s sights. I held my breath as I watched, the gun went off, and the gobbler started flopping. Danielle and I were so excited we couldn’t contain ourselves, we started yelling and screaming. I had just witnessed Brenda Valentine kill a Merriam’s turkey. The opportunity to spend that time with Brenda and my little sister truly was a gift that I will cherish forever.
I was home for a mere few hours before I was on a plane and headed back to Wyoming. This time however it was my younger sister and I flying solo. The situation gets even better. We were going to be hunting with outdoor legends Michael Waddell and Brenda Valentine. I was both nervous and excited; I was given the hunt of a lifetime, twofold. We hooked up with Michael at the Rapid City airport and while we waited for the other party to arrived we made a trip to Cabela’s. A Cabela’s trip on its own is an amazing experience, but to put my hero in the setting was simply euphoric.
The first morning we got up at three in the morning, I was too excited to get much sleep, I jumped out of bed and woke up my sister, we finally were ready and headed out to our perfect spot to slam my sister her Merriam’s turkey. The turkey call crew was set up; Danielle was fully camouflaged with her back up against a tree, not making a movement. Michael sat behind her to give direction. The morning was cold and crisp. The breaking sun kissed the horizon and danced its way across the sage brush of Wyoming, it was still and quiet like the whole world was a sleep except for us. A toms gobble shattered the silence, Michael began to work his magic. The gobbler kept coming closer and closer, it felt like a done deal. Then the gobbler stopped, and seemed to be hung up. Michael, started sneaking away from us and the turkey, continuing to make a hen call, the gobbler finally decided it would chase “the hen”, as I watched, unable to contain my goofy grin, my sister nailed her gobbler at 30 yards away.
Watching Michael move like that opened my eyes to an entirely new way of turkey hunting. Most people would sit and call until they turned blue in the face. When a turkey is that close people freeze, he taught me never be afraid to try new things, you never know what the result will be. In this case it was a very nice Wyoming Merriam’s.
Our third destination was much further north and somewhat colder. My father and I travelled to Devils Tower, Wyoming to hunt the Merriam’s turkey, the final bird for my dad to complete his world slam; at this point I still had not shot my Eastern so it was my second last bird. Wyoming is very open, and mostly occupied by private ranches, this gives the turkeys a chance to flourish with very little pressure. It is also a very safe state to hunt a pure Merriam’s breed in, without running the risk of shooting a hybrid. When we pulled into Whitetail Creek Outfitters, the first thing we saw was about 25 turkeys, both hens and toms just going crazy right outside the camp. Immediately I knew we were going to have a good trip. This was one of my favorite hunting experiences, my father shot his bird first, we were set up and a flock of about fifteen turkeys came right by us, my dad waited for a clear shot, and completed his world slam. The next day it was my turn. Although there were lots of toms, there were also lots of hens and it was somewhat difficult to get the toms away from the hens. We hunted hard all day and in late afternoon it was not looking so good. We were calling like crazy and could not get anything to gobble, when all of a sudden way off in the distance we heard two birds gobble hard. We set up right away hoping we could get them to us, without a hen intercepting them on the way. All of a sudden I saw two black spots about a mile and a half away. These birds were hot, and competing with each other to get to the hen. They continued to run and cross each others path all the way to us, and when they got to about twenty-five yards and were well separated I got my shot. He went right down and I finally started to breathe again. It was an incredible experience.
That time of year the weather is unpredictable, I would recommend bringing a rain suit, a winter jacket, warm boots, and gloves. In the five days we were there the temperature varied from about five degrees Celsius to about fifteen degrees Celsius. We had frost, thunderstorms, and sun. Pack for various weather changes.
This turkey season came around very quickly and I had a very busy schedule to keep. Florida was the first destination on my list. From April tenth to the thirteenth my father and I hunted the Osceola turkey in Okeechobee, Florida with Brandon Storey. This was my first Osceola hunt and my fourth turkey in the slam. The previous turkey season I had killed a Rio Grande on the King Ranch, a Goulds with Muy Grande Outfitters in Hermosillo, Mexico and an Ocellated with Balm Outfitters in Campeche, Mexico. I really wanted to complete my slam this year and I felt the pressure, I had two days to get the job done. The first afternoon was more of a scouting mission than anything else; we roosted a couple of birds and were very confident for the next morning. The next day we were in our blind and set up half an hour before sunrise. The Tom started gobbling while he was still in the tree, right away my heart started pounding, he came in much faster than anticipated and my father ended up shooting that bird. It was a nice size Tom and now he had his Osceola for his slam. After lunch we went out again for my bird, we got close to a few birds but not close enough to get a shot at one. Late in the afternoon we set up on the edge of a field and we called, and called. After not hearing anything we got up and decided we would move, the second we got up I noticed a hen about 70 yards from us, we sat and waited so we didn’t get busted. All of a sudden a huge Tom presented himself in full strut. He was a little un-cooperative and Brandon whipped out a big Tom decoy to get him annoyed and bring him in close enough to get a shot. It worked like a charm and as soon as I could see his big red head I took my shot. My fourth bird for the slam was now down. He ended up weighing 21 pounds, with a ten inch beard, one and half inch and one and three quarter inch spurs. It was extremely hot, and the terrain is very light in color. Wear warm weather clothing, and take plenty of water. Rain boots are a good idea, there are lots of swampy areas and they may come in quite handy. I would strongly recommend Brandon Storey as a guide; he has lots of private land where the birds have no pressure. He is experienced and fun to be around.
It is the end of March, which means turkey season is just around the corner. Last Friday I travelled to my local gun range with my Super Black Eagle II and three different types of turkey loads. The Remington Heavy Shot, number 5’s, Federal Flight Control, number 5’s, and Winchester Supreme turkey loads, number 5’s. All the shells were 3 inch cartridges. Of all three shells the one that produced the most pellets in the kill zone was Flight Control by Federal with 57 pellets at 25 yards. a close second was the Remington with 43 pellets and Winchester with 39 pellets. This up and coming season you will definitely see me shooting Federal!
Real Tree has recently introduced there new line called “Real Girl” this line unfortunately only features the Max1 camouflage and is ideal for warm weather but the line does not have any colder weather apparel. The clothing is well made and I recently used it while dove hunting in the desserts of Hermosillo, Mexico. For warn weather hunting it was perfect, the material is light weight allowing for breathe ability and the pockets are all well placed along the legs for carrying extra shells. There are hoodies and light jackets available as well, that match the quality and functionality of the pants. The only criticism I would have, is to make more, have more options. The product is great but we girls require gear for all climates and hunting terrain.
If you are a hunter of any kind this is definitley the place to be. In four days I slept an average of four hours a night. The day starts at 7:00am with breakfast and does not end untill well after 11:00pm. Between breakfasts and lunch time auctions, you have a short while to run through a large trade show, featuring outfitters from all over the globe, as well as new products and old favorites. There are calling competitons, art competitions, taxidermy competitions, and so much more; this is where the best in the industry meet.
