Who got you into it?

I never really cared to go turkey hunting. I would rather of spent my time trolling streamers. That was until my father, at the age of seventy, finally was selected in Maine's turkey lottery. My father got his turkey on opening morning of the season that year. When he called me on the phone to tell me the story, his excitement was infectious. I got just as excited as if I had been with him. Now, my father has traveled extensively, caught marlin and other large gamefish, has hunted in many different areas, and I have never seen him like this. So, to get this worked up over a dumb old turkey, I thought I should see what it is all about. I was selected twice during the lottery years and finally got on some turkey's last year. I never got a shot at them, but holy smokes was I hooked.

For those that have read my field journal, you know that I have already been in the turkey woods. I have been ready to go since February. The mild weather this winter has really made me chafe at the bit.

By the way, my father who is seventy-five, has had his camo packed and shotgun at the ready since I gave him the scouting report from last weekend. His birth year will let him hunt the A season.