I pulled my truck into the opening next to the farm’s outbuildings and gathered my gear. It was a quick 250-yard walk down the gravel service road to where my pop-up blind sat ready for the morning turkey hunt. I could hear gobbles from the roost in all directions around me, as at least four birds were competing for the attention of the local hen population.

My blind overlooked the corner of a farm field where my farmer host had been observing gobblers strutting throughout the day during the past few weeks. My work schedule had been hectic and I was now six days into my seven-day, first hunt period season. This was my first-morning hunt opportunity. I had managed to have a couple of close after-work encounters with a mature gobbler the past few evenings; however, he kept hanging up at 35 to 50 yards from the blind. My setup of two hens and a jake decoy interested him, however his beard length indicated he had probably been to this rodeo before and he fully expected the hens to come to him. The chair and blind were already set from the night before and a quick placement of the decoys and a warmup shot in the gray light with a blunt signaled that it was go time. I gave a few loud yelps and received two immediate responses from opposite directions. It was time to be patient and quiet.

I’ve been fortunate to hunt some fantastic and remote areas in my life, including the mountains of Montana and Colorado, as well as big woods bear and deer hunts in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula. The peace and solitude afforded in those locations were incredible and the investment in planning and preparation was large in comparison to the efforts of this morning’s hunt. My travel time was literally two minutes from my house. Sipping coffee from my travel mug, as I waited for turkeys to hit the ground, was a unique kind of pleasure in this pocket of farmland tucked into an area well populated with rural homes and an elementary school. Several cars had passed down the road between the time from my first yelps and when ‘my’ bird, from the previous two evenings, re-entered the field at the point of his departure from the evening before. It was a subtle reminder of where I was and what I was able to enjoy in the midst of it.

I was 20 minutes into the hunt and the gobbler came across the field on the proverbial string and once again he hung up at 50 yards and put on a show for ten minutes before traveling into the pines to the east. I could follow his departure progress the whole way as he gobbled every few minutes. Cars continued to pass by in the distance and I could only smile inside as my adrenaline rush subsided. The morning was clear, crisp, and still. Turkeys were continuing to sound off all around so I periodically gave a few sporadic soft yelps and enjoyed the music. About 45 minutes later gobbles from the direction my nemesis departed got louder, and again the bird teased me with a show at twice my effective turkey range. Despite a few pleading yelps and purrs, along with a challenging gobble from my shaker call, I couldn’t persuade him to come closer. As he moved off I decided to slide out of the blind and change up the decoy positioning. Once again I could track his position via the sound of his gobbles. I figured I was in his strut zone, but he was having none of this competition, even though it was only a jake decoy. I decided to use a duck hunting decoy spread strategy and moved the hens close to the blind and put the jake decoy out at 20 yards giving the old bird a different look and a ‘landing zone’ in which to strut between his competitor and the two hen decoys.

About 30 minutes later a gobble rattled the blind from the west and I leaned in my chair to peek out the lone open window to see the source. I was somewhat surprised to see three gobblers on a beeline moving toward the jake decoy. They proceeded to chest bump the decoy and spin him around just like you hear about in the advertisements. My plan did not take into consideration fresh birds coming to the party, and these birds were right at the edge of my range. I quickly decided that one of these in my hand is better than my nemesis traveling around in the bush, so when I had a motionless broadside bird, I released my arrow. At first, it appeared as though the arrow had literally bounced off the turkeys’ side, however he was hopping and attempting to take flight, but only made it ten yards and flipped over. His ‘buddies’ decided this was the time to kick a partner when he’s down and proceeded to pounce on their lifeless companion. Then they continued to gobble as they walked between the jake decoy and the dead bird. I was able to reach for my camera and snap some photos and mess with the two live birds with a few yelps. Finally, I moved out of the blind to retrieve my prize with cars occasionally traveling by in the background.

Minutes later my host was walking at a quick pace down the service road to me and shook my hand in congratulations. After a brief recap of the events and my thanks, he was off to the never-ending chores of running a farm with animals. After snapping a few pictures and packing up the decoys and my bird, I looked across the field and thought of the blessings to enjoy a challenge so close to home in the midst of civilization. Of course, the opportunity was all made possible by the gracious farmer. Whether it’s a farm, a small tract of public land, or an undeveloped parcel of private property, there are opportunities to immerse oneself in a traditional bow hunt close to home. Try researching public tracts of land or knocking on doors close to home. Finding a spot close by can provide the opportunity to unwind from the daily commitments in our lives and even for a moment, provide the same adrenalin rush that is experienced in far-off hunts.

Equipment notes: The author used a vintage 1971 Bear Super Kodiak and Kustom King Trailmaker broadheads during his spring turkey season.