Whitesburg KY
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Struttin’ Time:

The true meaning of ‘the hunt’

I have had a great 2018 wild turkey season so far. I went to Florida and killed a Osceola, then went to Nebraska and ended up with not only a Rio but a Merriam, too. Only the Eastern stands in my way of another “grand slam.”

Although I never set as one of my goals the killing of another “slam” this year, it seems to be working out. I stand amazed that many hunters still don’t know the true meaning of the hunt. Getting your prey for the supper table is fine and well, but hunting is much more than that. Hunting in my world is about seeing new places, meeting and making new friends, and enjoying the different types of weather.

While hunting in Nebraska — where a blizzard had us holed up in the lodge for a day — a person I used to call a friend until about five months ago sent me a picture of a turkey he got in Kentucky on opening morning. He said, “I did this here and there you are in a blizzard and can’t hunt.” I never responded to him, as for him and many others it is all about the kill. What a shame.

Let us take a minute and see what happened during our day at the lodge. The hunters there shared their favorite stories about not only their hunts but about their children, their grandchildren, and about the lives they have lived. We ate steaks, drank moonshine (I always take some when I go West to hunt), drank beer, laughed, and had a fun time. Those are the things you can’t get just by hunting in your own neck of the woods.

The next day, I took two turkeys and was heading back East, just as if we never had a blizzard. But thank the Lord for that blizzard, because I learned much from other hunters there.

Until next week.



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