April 25, 2025 • 23 mins
Certain animals are known for certain behaviors, and the only safe bet in Nature is that there are no safe bets. Today, Brent’s gonna tell you about some out-of-the-ordinary events that involve wild turkeys. It's time for MeatEater’s “This Country Life” podcast.
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Episode Transcript
Available transcripts are automatically generated. Complete accuracy is not guaranteed.
Speaker 1 (00:05):
Welcome to this country Life. I'm your host, Brent Reeves.
From coon hunting to trot lining and just general country living.
I want you to stay a while as I share
my experiences and life lessons. This country life is presented
by Case Knives on Meat Eaters Podcast Network, bringing you
the best outdoor podcast.
Speaker 2 (00:25):
The airwaves have to offer.
Speaker 1 (00:27):
All right, friends, grab a chair or drop that tailgate.
I've got some stories to share. Brave turkeys and squeaky fences.
I'm all about some turkey hunting. And this week we've
got two great examples of the crazy things that go
(00:49):
on chasing what the one hundred dollars bill guy wanted
for our National bird Pay attention when you're out amongst them,
and you'll see some wild things. And I'm going to
tell you all about it. But first I'm going to
tell you a story. The first offering is from TCL
(01:12):
listener Nick Sorenson. Nick lives all the way up in
northeast Iowa and has a great turkey story I want
to share with you. So in Nick's words and my voice,
here we go. I just recently moved into a new
area and was looking for places that were close to
my new home to hunt. I stumbled upon an unlikely
(01:36):
piece of public land that was not too far away,
but it seemed kind of hard to access due to
a river. Now, I had seen turkeys in that area,
but most of them were on private land. I figured
out there was a small section of public that you
could access by waiting through an ox bow, so I
made a plan to do that on opening day. I
(01:59):
showed up early, since I didn't have time to roost
birds the night before. When I say early, I mean
like two or three hours before shooting time. This gave
me enough time to get a little blind belt and
hopefully not disturbed the birds no too much if they
were very close. The forest started waking up and the
gobblers started going nuts. However, I was facing the wrong direction,
(02:25):
but I felt like the birds were.
Speaker 2 (02:27):
Too close to make a change. I was committed.
Speaker 1 (02:30):
I'm sitting next to a dead oak, looking north in
a gobbler about eighty yards in front of him.
Speaker 2 (02:36):
Finally let out a gobble.
Speaker 1 (02:38):
I couldn't see him on the roofs, but I saw
him when he pitched down a couple minutes later, and
I must have got a little too close because he
made a big loop around me and my decoys. The
next couple of hours were uneventful and gobbles man, they
were pretty scarce. Eventually, the overwhelming urgs to let loose
(02:58):
on the outside, all that I had been drinking that
morning and was holding on the inside and getting me.
I did my best to make sure the coast was clear,
and I stood up slowly to take care of business.
And I no more got started when I caught the
flash of a fan.
Speaker 2 (03:14):
In the morning light.
Speaker 1 (03:16):
There stood a tom in his trut zon doing his thing,
about fifty yards south of me. The bird turned his
back towards me, so I finished up and got myself
put back together as fast as I could. The bird
made another turn, and I tried my best to be
one with a tree, And when he turned his back
(03:36):
towards me again, I sat down and got in position,
hoping a few soft yelps would draw his attention, and
it did not. So there I sat it for another
forty five minutes, calling every so often, hoping to entice
this turkey into heading my way, who was strutting.
Speaker 2 (03:55):
Just out of sight. Finally, to my east a group
of four hens already making their way past me. I
thought to myself, this was it. There's no way, there's
not a toime hanging out with these hens. I watched
these gals peck their way through the forest, and when
all of a sudden, a gobbler nearly spit in my
right ear, my eyes darted to the right, and there
(04:17):
stood two gobblers at seven yards. They were spitting and
drumming like it was going out of style. Once they
saw my jake decoy, it was on.
Speaker 1 (04:34):
They rushed that hunk of plastic to teach him a
lesson and show him who was false. And I let
him have their fun, using him as a punching bag,
bending the steak into oblivion. And then one of them
put enough distance between him and his buddy, and bait,
I dropped that gobbler like a bad habit. The hens
got out of dodge at the shot, but his buddy
(04:57):
he didn't fall a suit.
Speaker 2 (05:00):
Past.
Speaker 1 (05:00):
I've had birds beat up the fallen comrade or bolt
off with the rest of them, but this time he
hung around right up until I carried this turkey to
the truck. I stood in the woods a while filming
this interaction and taking my photo with the bird I shot.
If you look in the background of the pictures, you'll
(05:20):
see him walking around trying to figure out exactly what
was going on.
Speaker 2 (05:25):
It was a unique experience, to say.
Speaker 1 (05:28):
The least, and I can't wait to see what Mother
Nature has the store for me next week when the
second season opens. And according to Nick Sorensen, the brain
Trust of Northwest Iowa, that's just how that happened. Well, Nick,
(05:52):
I got to tell you Pardner, that sounded like a
tall Turkey tale if I ever heard one, But alas
it was not. For Nick has provided us with the
video and I'll be sharing it over on my Instagram
page for all you doubters. Take that Internet detectives. It
is really cool and a sight to see.
Speaker 2 (06:15):
Thanks for sharing. Nick.
Speaker 1 (06:22):
I talked about Max Kern on episode one Turkey Season Therapy.
Speaker 2 (06:28):
Now.
Speaker 1 (06:28):
Mister Max was ninety when he passed away four years ago,
his health deteriorating to the point that the last few
years of his life were spent mostly existing, with not
much living. Before that, however, Max Kern lived it and
was a Turkey killing machine up into his eighties. I
(06:50):
met mister Max the first time I traveled with my
dad to Missouri to meet him and stay with our
friends Toby and married, a tradition that continues now for
well over twenty years. Through that annual pilgrimage, I've gotten
to know their extended family and friends, brought in my
circle of relationships with some of the best folks I've
ever been blessed to know. To me, they are a
(07:12):
true representation of Americana farmers, builders, and a host of
other blue collar talent that operate independently for themselves but
also in conjunction with the community. It takes individual effort
from them to all be successful as a whole. Now,
what's always caught my attention too, is how clean everything is.
(07:35):
You can drive from farm to farming, from business to
business and see the pride these folks taking how they look.
And it's not just regulated to the small community of
people and places I've been associated with for so long.
It's that whole area of the state at least everything
that I've seen. Turkey hunting was the initial draw from
(07:57):
my presence there, But just like raw milk sitting on
the counter, when given enough time, the cream always rises
to the top. The people from this place that have
blessed me beyond measure are what keep me wanting to
come back way more than the turkeys. Max was one
of those people. My friend who I look upon as
(08:19):
my brother, Toby Neiemier, introduced me to Max. On my
first visit, Dad and I rode over to his house
with Toby, and on the way we had to stop
to let three strutting gobblers that were making circles in
the middle of the road get out of the way
so we could pass. I sat in the truck seating,
my eyeballs run out on stems like I was in
(08:40):
a cartoon, in my.
Speaker 2 (08:41):
Bottom jaw on the floorboard.
Speaker 1 (08:44):
Toby bumped a horn and the gobblers hopped over on
the shoulder. As soon as we passed, they took right
up where they'd left off when we interrupted.
Speaker 2 (08:53):
Now that was back during the boon.
Speaker 1 (08:55):
The turkey populations everywhere, when fringe areas of our nation
had turk used to some degree, mediocre areas had turkeys
in abundance, and historically good turkey areas were busting at
the seins. I remember mister Max sitting in the shade
of a big oak in his front yard he had
just finished mowing. We gathered up a couple more chairs
(09:18):
and sat down talking turkeys and colt dogs. The latter
being what I was least interested in, my Dad, Max
and Toby talking about hounds and me interjecting turkey questions
whenever there was a slight falls in the conversation, to
the point of visible irritation on the face of my
father every time I broke in, taking Max's attention away
(09:40):
from chasing colds. Toby's sensing my dad's and noiens, finally
stepped in and said, Max, will you take him hunting
in the morning so he'll shut.
Speaker 2 (09:49):
Up before Buddy kills him.
Speaker 1 (09:51):
I'm thinking to myself, take me hunting. I'm thirty five
years old. I don't need this old man to take
me hunting. He ain't gonna do nothing but slow me down.
He should have just kept my mouth shut and waited
until they finished talking about those stupid dogs, and then
asked mister Max for some pointers on where I should
go myself. Now Toby and his big mouth obligating both
(10:14):
of us to hunt together. I don't even know if
he wants to. And out of the four of us
sitting there talking, three quarters of them were running dog
officionados and only half of us turkey hunting. Of the
two of us that did, I was only positive that
I knew how to kill a turkey. I just met
this old man, and even though he seemed spry, fit
(10:35):
or whatever you want to call it, he looked older
than baseball and to a cat like me, and loved
to run.
Speaker 2 (10:41):
The gun turkeys.
Speaker 1 (10:42):
It was going to be like dragging a ball and
chain around the hills of central Missouri. Please Lord, don't
let this old man say yes to Toby's request. Mister
Max looked over at me and said, be here in
the morning and we'll go. I agreed and thanked him,
(11:05):
acted excited and was giving Toby down the road. In
my head, you could only hunt until noon in Missouri
back then, So I figured I dragged this old man
around the woods in the morning for half a day
running that hunt, figure out some places to go, and
on day two I'd take care of business on my own.
(11:25):
I was already preparing myself mentally for the geriatric duty
Toby had just volunteered me for. Why did my dad
teach me matters? I rolled up at mister Max's the
next morning. He was sitting at the dinner table, working
on a pot of coffee, his eyes smiling behind the
gold frames of his glasses. He was sporting a fresh shave,
(11:47):
and his hair was combed as if he was fixing
to go to church. He welcomed me inside, offered me
a Charrioty's table, and poured me a cup of Joe.
We finished that cup, poured the rest of the thermiston
here at the door. He drove a red Ford Ranger pickup,
and after loading my vest and gun, we tore off
down the road at the break next speed of a
(12:08):
herd of turtles. I figured that had to be an
appropriate barometer for the rest of the day. And even
though I'd already capitulated that today was going to be
an information gathering session with an old turkey hunter and
nothing more, I'm still disappointed that he didn't seem to
be in a bigger hurry to get where we were going,
even though I didn't know where that was. Eventually, we
(12:31):
pulled over the corner of someone's farm that he knew,
and got out and waited for gobling time. Can you
hoot like an owl? Yes, sir, we'll give them one,
I owed, and a turkey gobbled half a mile away.
Max snapped his head over at me and said, boy,
that was good. I said, yes, sir, you think you
(12:52):
know where he is? He said, know where who is?
I said that gobbler. He said, you heard a turkey.
I said, yes, sir, and I pointed in the direction
he'd gobbled. Mister Max looked in that direction, looked back
at me. He said, no, I can't hear worth of turn.
I was talking about your alhod and that's pretty good.
Pointed that turkey again. Well I did, and he gobbled,
(13:15):
playing as a coming day that was lighting up the
eastern sky about the same time. Mister Max never flinched.
You hear him that time? No, I didn't hear nothing.
I figured he's about half a mile due south of
was mister Max. He told me to get my stuff
together and we'd go give him a try. We stepped
off the gravel road in the woods, me rolling my
(13:37):
eyes and wishing I was anywhere but on this nursing
home field trip. And for the next three hours, that
gnome sized old man of nearly seventy years tried to
kill me, one step at a time as we chased
that nomad of a turkey all over Missouri, up and
down hill after he'll running and gun with the endurance
(13:57):
of a marathon runner. We zigged and zagged behind that turkey,
stopping only for me to catch my breath while mister
Max waited patiently.
Speaker 2 (14:07):
We better get to move and if we're gonna beat
him to that crossing. He ain't broke sweat, and he was.
Speaker 1 (14:15):
Wearing a winter coat in april. His breathing wasn't labored.
I was about to die. My legs ached from climbing
hills that I don't have to climb in the river
bottoms where I'm from, and I was gassed like I'd
been running sprints at the end.
Speaker 2 (14:29):
Of football practice.
Speaker 1 (14:32):
The dread of having to drag someone through the woods
had come to fruition that morning, but it was mister
Max that was having to do it. You want to
sit down and call here for a little bit, see
if we can get one going. I knew when he
said it he was throwing me a bomb, giving me
the opportunity to say either no, meaning I'm good, let's
(14:53):
go on, or yes. If I don't sit down, I'll
never make it back to the truck, I squeaked out
between labored breathing.
Speaker 2 (15:01):
I guess we can sit here for twenty minutes or so.
Speaker 1 (15:04):
We sat down by a big white oak, and mister
Max began talking to me, talking about the things I've
been asking about the day before, except today. He had
plenty of time to answer while I rested. Didn't take
long for me to realize I wasn't sitting under that
tree with a man that hunted turkeys. I was sitting
beside a show enough turkey hunter. Missouri had an abundance
(15:28):
of turkeys, no doubt, but you still had to trick them.
Speaker 2 (15:33):
You could have more.
Speaker 1 (15:33):
Opportunities to get on them in high density population, but
there's a reason Eastern turkeys have the reputation of being
hard nuts to crack, because they are. We headed back
to the truck, having let that one get away by
not being able to get in front of him. Had
mister Max been by himself and not dragging the ball
and chain around the woods that looked exactly like me,
(15:56):
I'm quite sure that turkey would have never lived to
roosting time. Back of the truck, I guzzled the water
I left in the seat, and then helped mister Max
with the coffee that was left. I was drenched with sweat.
He was still wearing that camouflaged coat. He hadn't broke
a sweat. He looked at his watch and said, we
(16:17):
got time to hit a spot I know before we
have to quit. I was glad to sit down and
ride for a little bit. We drove for about ten
minutes at the same breakneck speed which started the day
out with the one that had me sitting on the
edge of the seat before daylight trying to wheel that
truck to go faster. This time, I welcomed the relaxed
(16:39):
atmosphere and took the opportunity to pick his brain about
everything related to calling turkeys and finding morell mushrooms, the
latter of which I had never been exposed to. In
southeast Arkansas. We pulled up to a low water creek
crossing between two ag fields. The county had built the
concrete crossing many moons ago. In recent rains had just
(17:01):
enough water flowing across it to make it too loud
to stand beside and listen and hear a turkey. He
told me to cross the creek and stand on the
opposite bank and owl like I had that morning. He'd
do his best to listen on this side and for
me to concentrate on the side I was on. I
waited the swift water with ease, and climbed on the
(17:23):
steep bank of the opposite side and just enough to
get away from the sound of the creek. And there
before me lay about thirty acres of fresh plowed ground.
Across that rich black muddy dirt was a fence row,
and across that fence was the edge of a pretty
steep grated hill covered with hardwood. On the opposite end
(17:44):
of that field sat an old farmhouse that was void
of old farmers, but well maintained in their absence by
a younger generation whose inheritance granted them the deed that
their occupations kept.
Speaker 2 (17:56):
Them far away in the city. It was peaceful and beautiful.
Speaker 1 (18:00):
And a little melancholy all at the same time. I
looked back at mister Max. He had his hands cup
behind his ears, listening toward the short side of a
cloud field on his side of the creek. And before
I could make a peep imitating the barred out, I
heard a turkey gobble across the field in front of me,
deep in the woods. I ran back across that creek
(18:22):
and told him what I'd heard. Let's go, mister Max.
I heard one open up across that field. Up on
that ridge. I'm going to stay here. You go all
across the creek and watch where you go in. I
tried to convince him to go with me, but he
was adamant that I would go by myself. It had
been boiling in me all morning, how selfish I'd been
(18:43):
in my dread of what I thought was Toby more
or less making me hunt with him, when in reality
Toby had given me a gift and the privilege of
getting to hunt with him. Now that turkey is working
his way down that ridge, just shutting that field, so
you go. You got to go right now. And with
(19:05):
that he patted me on the shoulder, the last of
which pushed me back toward that creek in a trot.
I didn't stop until I got across both the creek
and the plowed ground. I was out of breath and
hunker down on the edge of the woods beside the
net wire fence that looked older than mister Max, but
not nearly as tough. Time and weather had done a
(19:26):
number on that post and the wire too, and had
a cow bent on either side of it, they would
have remained there, more on the honor system than by force.
The turkey had gobbled when I was about halfway across
that fielding from what it sounded like, he was about
two hundred yards away. After catching my breath for the
second time that day, I placed my hand on the
(19:49):
top strand of loose bob wire, pressing down so I
could straddle it as I crossed. The wire was rusty
and loose and squeaked loudly like a one note hen yep,
making that turn gobble as I froze, my left foot
on the ground, the other in mid air, my shotgun
in my right hand, and my left full of antique fencing.
(20:10):
He was no more than thirty yards away, and I
could see the top of his fan just around the
finger that he'd walked down from the top of that ridge.
With one motion, I rolled over that fence, sat on
the ground, and released the wire that squeaked again, snatching
another gobble out of that turkey.
Speaker 2 (20:29):
I had just.
Speaker 1 (20:30):
Enough time to shoulder my shotgun and punch off that
safety when he stepped out of strut and I sent
him to glory.
Speaker 2 (20:36):
It was eleven fifty eight. I couldn't believe what had
just happened.
Speaker 1 (20:43):
I had just called up a turkey with a bobed
wire fence, and not just any turkey, a twenty six
pound monster was nearly a foot of beard and on
the plus side of one inch spurs. It was a
unique experience, for sure. How many folks can say they
did that, even though it was all unintentional, and fate
(21:04):
had allowed me to be in the right place at
the right time to make a racket that would have
normally had the opposite effect on my hunt. It was
a day and a hunt that I'll never forget, but
not for what you'd think.
Speaker 2 (21:19):
I'll never forget it for what didn't happen.
Speaker 1 (21:23):
I didn't get to share the experience with mister Max.
I only got to tell him about it. Bless his heart,
he didn't even hear me shoot. He just raised his
fists above his head, waving at me when I stepped
out of the shade of the tree line into the
sunlight of that field, and that monster of Missouri turkey
over my shoulder like I just kicked the winning field
(21:45):
goal and the Super Bowl as.
Speaker 2 (21:47):
Time ran out.
Speaker 1 (21:49):
The plowed muddy ground was mister Max's limiting factor. He
couldn't walk any very fast, and he knew I could.
He'd waited on me all morning in the hills to
keep up with him, and it had cost us an
opportunity at a turkey. Time was of the essence on
this one, and he refused to be the reason I
(22:10):
wouldn't get a second chance. Five minutes earlier, I'd been
standing with my foot on that turkey's neck, being thankful
for the blessing and watching the last of his feathers
relax in permanent rest as his life faded away, respectful
in his demise, elated in my victory, and saddened by
the absence of my new friend, who would only see
(22:32):
what I saw as good.
Speaker 2 (22:34):
As I could tell the story.
Speaker 1 (22:37):
Thankfully, there would be other days with mister max in
lots more turkeys before he couldn't go anymore, and time
eventually ran out on my dominion to friend, Cherish the
Maxis and the Tobys in your life who have enough
foresight to point you in the right direction even when
you don't realize it. Thank you so much for listening
(23:00):
to this country life, Bear Grease and the render here
on the Bear Grease channel until next week. This is
Brent Reeves signing off.
Speaker 2 (23:09):
Y'all be careful
Welcome to this country Life. I'm your host, Brent Reeves.
From coon hunting to trot lining and just general country living.
I want you to stay a while as I share
my experiences and life lessons. This country life is presented
by Case Knives on Meat Eaters Podcast Network, bringing you
the best outdoor podcast.
Speaker 2 (00:25):
The airwaves have to offer.
Speaker 1 (00:27):
All right, friends, grab a chair or drop that tailgate.
I've got some stories to share. Brave turkeys and squeaky fences.
I'm all about some turkey hunting. And this week we've
got two great examples of the crazy things that go
(00:49):
on chasing what the one hundred dollars bill guy wanted
for our National bird Pay attention when you're out amongst them,
and you'll see some wild things. And I'm going to
tell you all about it. But first I'm going to
tell you a story. The first offering is from TCL
(01:12):
listener Nick Sorenson. Nick lives all the way up in
northeast Iowa and has a great turkey story I want
to share with you. So in Nick's words and my voice,
here we go. I just recently moved into a new
area and was looking for places that were close to
my new home to hunt. I stumbled upon an unlikely
(01:36):
piece of public land that was not too far away,
but it seemed kind of hard to access due to
a river. Now, I had seen turkeys in that area,
but most of them were on private land. I figured
out there was a small section of public that you
could access by waiting through an ox bow, so I
made a plan to do that on opening day. I
(01:59):
showed up early, since I didn't have time to roost
birds the night before. When I say early, I mean
like two or three hours before shooting time. This gave
me enough time to get a little blind belt and
hopefully not disturbed the birds no too much if they
were very close. The forest started waking up and the
gobblers started going nuts. However, I was facing the wrong direction,
(02:25):
but I felt like the birds were.
Speaker 2 (02:27):
Too close to make a change. I was committed.
Speaker 1 (02:30):
I'm sitting next to a dead oak, looking north in
a gobbler about eighty yards in front of him.
Speaker 2 (02:36):
Finally let out a gobble.
Speaker 1 (02:38):
I couldn't see him on the roofs, but I saw
him when he pitched down a couple minutes later, and
I must have got a little too close because he
made a big loop around me and my decoys. The
next couple of hours were uneventful and gobbles man, they
were pretty scarce. Eventually, the overwhelming urgs to let loose
(02:58):
on the outside, all that I had been drinking that
morning and was holding on the inside and getting me.
I did my best to make sure the coast was clear,
and I stood up slowly to take care of business.
And I no more got started when I caught the
flash of a fan.
Speaker 2 (03:14):
In the morning light.
Speaker 1 (03:16):
There stood a tom in his trut zon doing his thing,
about fifty yards south of me. The bird turned his
back towards me, so I finished up and got myself
put back together as fast as I could. The bird
made another turn, and I tried my best to be
one with a tree, And when he turned his back
(03:36):
towards me again, I sat down and got in position,
hoping a few soft yelps would draw his attention, and
it did not. So there I sat it for another
forty five minutes, calling every so often, hoping to entice
this turkey into heading my way, who was strutting.
Speaker 2 (03:55):
Just out of sight. Finally, to my east a group
of four hens already making their way past me. I
thought to myself, this was it. There's no way, there's
not a toime hanging out with these hens. I watched
these gals peck their way through the forest, and when
all of a sudden, a gobbler nearly spit in my
right ear, my eyes darted to the right, and there
(04:17):
stood two gobblers at seven yards. They were spitting and
drumming like it was going out of style. Once they
saw my jake decoy, it was on.
Speaker 1 (04:34):
They rushed that hunk of plastic to teach him a
lesson and show him who was false. And I let
him have their fun, using him as a punching bag,
bending the steak into oblivion. And then one of them
put enough distance between him and his buddy, and bait,
I dropped that gobbler like a bad habit. The hens
got out of dodge at the shot, but his buddy
(04:57):
he didn't fall a suit.
Speaker 2 (05:00):
Past.
Speaker 1 (05:00):
I've had birds beat up the fallen comrade or bolt
off with the rest of them, but this time he
hung around right up until I carried this turkey to
the truck. I stood in the woods a while filming
this interaction and taking my photo with the bird I shot.
If you look in the background of the pictures, you'll
(05:20):
see him walking around trying to figure out exactly what
was going on.
Speaker 2 (05:25):
It was a unique experience, to say.
Speaker 1 (05:28):
The least, and I can't wait to see what Mother
Nature has the store for me next week when the
second season opens. And according to Nick Sorensen, the brain
Trust of Northwest Iowa, that's just how that happened. Well, Nick,
(05:52):
I got to tell you Pardner, that sounded like a
tall Turkey tale if I ever heard one, But alas
it was not. For Nick has provided us with the
video and I'll be sharing it over on my Instagram
page for all you doubters. Take that Internet detectives. It
is really cool and a sight to see.
Speaker 2 (06:15):
Thanks for sharing. Nick.
Speaker 1 (06:22):
I talked about Max Kern on episode one Turkey Season Therapy.
Speaker 2 (06:28):
Now.
Speaker 1 (06:28):
Mister Max was ninety when he passed away four years ago,
his health deteriorating to the point that the last few
years of his life were spent mostly existing, with not
much living. Before that, however, Max Kern lived it and
was a Turkey killing machine up into his eighties. I
(06:50):
met mister Max the first time I traveled with my
dad to Missouri to meet him and stay with our
friends Toby and married, a tradition that continues now for
well over twenty years. Through that annual pilgrimage, I've gotten
to know their extended family and friends, brought in my
circle of relationships with some of the best folks I've
ever been blessed to know. To me, they are a
(07:12):
true representation of Americana farmers, builders, and a host of
other blue collar talent that operate independently for themselves but
also in conjunction with the community. It takes individual effort
from them to all be successful as a whole. Now,
what's always caught my attention too, is how clean everything is.
(07:35):
You can drive from farm to farming, from business to
business and see the pride these folks taking how they look.
And it's not just regulated to the small community of
people and places I've been associated with for so long.
It's that whole area of the state at least everything
that I've seen. Turkey hunting was the initial draw from
(07:57):
my presence there, But just like raw milk sitting on
the counter, when given enough time, the cream always rises
to the top. The people from this place that have
blessed me beyond measure are what keep me wanting to
come back way more than the turkeys. Max was one
of those people. My friend who I look upon as
(08:19):
my brother, Toby Neiemier, introduced me to Max. On my
first visit, Dad and I rode over to his house
with Toby, and on the way we had to stop
to let three strutting gobblers that were making circles in
the middle of the road get out of the way
so we could pass. I sat in the truck seating,
my eyeballs run out on stems like I was in
(08:40):
a cartoon, in my.
Speaker 2 (08:41):
Bottom jaw on the floorboard.
Speaker 1 (08:44):
Toby bumped a horn and the gobblers hopped over on
the shoulder. As soon as we passed, they took right
up where they'd left off when we interrupted.
Speaker 2 (08:53):
Now that was back during the boon.
Speaker 1 (08:55):
The turkey populations everywhere, when fringe areas of our nation
had turk used to some degree, mediocre areas had turkeys
in abundance, and historically good turkey areas were busting at
the seins. I remember mister Max sitting in the shade
of a big oak in his front yard he had
just finished mowing. We gathered up a couple more chairs
(09:18):
and sat down talking turkeys and colt dogs. The latter
being what I was least interested in, my Dad, Max
and Toby talking about hounds and me interjecting turkey questions
whenever there was a slight falls in the conversation, to
the point of visible irritation on the face of my
father every time I broke in, taking Max's attention away
(09:40):
from chasing colds. Toby's sensing my dad's and noiens, finally
stepped in and said, Max, will you take him hunting
in the morning so he'll shut.
Speaker 2 (09:49):
Up before Buddy kills him.
Speaker 1 (09:51):
I'm thinking to myself, take me hunting. I'm thirty five
years old. I don't need this old man to take
me hunting. He ain't gonna do nothing but slow me down.
He should have just kept my mouth shut and waited
until they finished talking about those stupid dogs, and then
asked mister Max for some pointers on where I should
go myself. Now Toby and his big mouth obligating both
(10:14):
of us to hunt together. I don't even know if
he wants to. And out of the four of us
sitting there talking, three quarters of them were running dog
officionados and only half of us turkey hunting. Of the
two of us that did, I was only positive that
I knew how to kill a turkey. I just met
this old man, and even though he seemed spry, fit
(10:35):
or whatever you want to call it, he looked older
than baseball and to a cat like me, and loved
to run.
Speaker 2 (10:41):
The gun turkeys.
Speaker 1 (10:42):
It was going to be like dragging a ball and
chain around the hills of central Missouri. Please Lord, don't
let this old man say yes to Toby's request. Mister
Max looked over at me and said, be here in
the morning and we'll go. I agreed and thanked him,
(11:05):
acted excited and was giving Toby down the road. In
my head, you could only hunt until noon in Missouri
back then, So I figured I dragged this old man
around the woods in the morning for half a day
running that hunt, figure out some places to go, and
on day two I'd take care of business on my own.
(11:25):
I was already preparing myself mentally for the geriatric duty
Toby had just volunteered me for. Why did my dad
teach me matters? I rolled up at mister Max's the
next morning. He was sitting at the dinner table, working
on a pot of coffee, his eyes smiling behind the
gold frames of his glasses. He was sporting a fresh shave,
(11:47):
and his hair was combed as if he was fixing
to go to church. He welcomed me inside, offered me
a Charrioty's table, and poured me a cup of Joe.
We finished that cup, poured the rest of the thermiston
here at the door. He drove a red Ford Ranger pickup,
and after loading my vest and gun, we tore off
down the road at the break next speed of a
(12:08):
herd of turtles. I figured that had to be an
appropriate barometer for the rest of the day. And even
though I'd already capitulated that today was going to be
an information gathering session with an old turkey hunter and
nothing more, I'm still disappointed that he didn't seem to
be in a bigger hurry to get where we were going,
even though I didn't know where that was. Eventually, we
(12:31):
pulled over the corner of someone's farm that he knew,
and got out and waited for gobling time. Can you
hoot like an owl? Yes, sir, we'll give them one,
I owed, and a turkey gobbled half a mile away.
Max snapped his head over at me and said, boy,
that was good. I said, yes, sir, you think you
(12:52):
know where he is? He said, know where who is?
I said that gobbler. He said, you heard a turkey.
I said, yes, sir, and I pointed in the direction
he'd gobbled. Mister Max looked in that direction, looked back
at me. He said, no, I can't hear worth of turn.
I was talking about your alhod and that's pretty good.
Pointed that turkey again. Well I did, and he gobbled,
(13:15):
playing as a coming day that was lighting up the
eastern sky about the same time. Mister Max never flinched.
You hear him that time? No, I didn't hear nothing.
I figured he's about half a mile due south of
was mister Max. He told me to get my stuff
together and we'd go give him a try. We stepped
off the gravel road in the woods, me rolling my
(13:37):
eyes and wishing I was anywhere but on this nursing
home field trip. And for the next three hours, that
gnome sized old man of nearly seventy years tried to
kill me, one step at a time as we chased
that nomad of a turkey all over Missouri, up and
down hill after he'll running and gun with the endurance
(13:57):
of a marathon runner. We zigged and zagged behind that turkey,
stopping only for me to catch my breath while mister
Max waited patiently.
Speaker 2 (14:07):
We better get to move and if we're gonna beat
him to that crossing. He ain't broke sweat, and he was.
Speaker 1 (14:15):
Wearing a winter coat in april. His breathing wasn't labored.
I was about to die. My legs ached from climbing
hills that I don't have to climb in the river
bottoms where I'm from, and I was gassed like I'd
been running sprints at the end.
Speaker 2 (14:29):
Of football practice.
Speaker 1 (14:32):
The dread of having to drag someone through the woods
had come to fruition that morning, but it was mister
Max that was having to do it. You want to
sit down and call here for a little bit, see
if we can get one going. I knew when he
said it he was throwing me a bomb, giving me
the opportunity to say either no, meaning I'm good, let's
(14:53):
go on, or yes. If I don't sit down, I'll
never make it back to the truck, I squeaked out
between labored breathing.
Speaker 2 (15:01):
I guess we can sit here for twenty minutes or so.
Speaker 1 (15:04):
We sat down by a big white oak, and mister
Max began talking to me, talking about the things I've
been asking about the day before, except today. He had
plenty of time to answer while I rested. Didn't take
long for me to realize I wasn't sitting under that
tree with a man that hunted turkeys. I was sitting
beside a show enough turkey hunter. Missouri had an abundance
(15:28):
of turkeys, no doubt, but you still had to trick them.
Speaker 2 (15:33):
You could have more.
Speaker 1 (15:33):
Opportunities to get on them in high density population, but
there's a reason Eastern turkeys have the reputation of being
hard nuts to crack, because they are. We headed back
to the truck, having let that one get away by
not being able to get in front of him. Had
mister Max been by himself and not dragging the ball
and chain around the woods that looked exactly like me,
(15:56):
I'm quite sure that turkey would have never lived to
roosting time. Back of the truck, I guzzled the water
I left in the seat, and then helped mister Max
with the coffee that was left. I was drenched with sweat.
He was still wearing that camouflaged coat. He hadn't broke
a sweat. He looked at his watch and said, we
(16:17):
got time to hit a spot I know before we
have to quit. I was glad to sit down and
ride for a little bit. We drove for about ten
minutes at the same breakneck speed which started the day
out with the one that had me sitting on the
edge of the seat before daylight trying to wheel that
truck to go faster. This time, I welcomed the relaxed
(16:39):
atmosphere and took the opportunity to pick his brain about
everything related to calling turkeys and finding morell mushrooms, the
latter of which I had never been exposed to. In
southeast Arkansas. We pulled up to a low water creek
crossing between two ag fields. The county had built the
concrete crossing many moons ago. In recent rains had just
(17:01):
enough water flowing across it to make it too loud
to stand beside and listen and hear a turkey. He
told me to cross the creek and stand on the
opposite bank and owl like I had that morning. He'd
do his best to listen on this side and for
me to concentrate on the side I was on. I
waited the swift water with ease, and climbed on the
(17:23):
steep bank of the opposite side and just enough to
get away from the sound of the creek. And there
before me lay about thirty acres of fresh plowed ground.
Across that rich black muddy dirt was a fence row,
and across that fence was the edge of a pretty
steep grated hill covered with hardwood. On the opposite end
(17:44):
of that field sat an old farmhouse that was void
of old farmers, but well maintained in their absence by
a younger generation whose inheritance granted them the deed that
their occupations kept.
Speaker 2 (17:56):
Them far away in the city. It was peaceful and beautiful.
Speaker 1 (18:00):
And a little melancholy all at the same time. I
looked back at mister Max. He had his hands cup
behind his ears, listening toward the short side of a
cloud field on his side of the creek. And before
I could make a peep imitating the barred out, I
heard a turkey gobble across the field in front of me,
deep in the woods. I ran back across that creek
(18:22):
and told him what I'd heard. Let's go, mister Max.
I heard one open up across that field. Up on
that ridge. I'm going to stay here. You go all
across the creek and watch where you go in. I
tried to convince him to go with me, but he
was adamant that I would go by myself. It had
been boiling in me all morning, how selfish I'd been
(18:43):
in my dread of what I thought was Toby more
or less making me hunt with him, when in reality
Toby had given me a gift and the privilege of
getting to hunt with him. Now that turkey is working
his way down that ridge, just shutting that field, so
you go. You got to go right now. And with
(19:05):
that he patted me on the shoulder, the last of
which pushed me back toward that creek in a trot.
I didn't stop until I got across both the creek
and the plowed ground. I was out of breath and
hunker down on the edge of the woods beside the
net wire fence that looked older than mister Max, but
not nearly as tough. Time and weather had done a
(19:26):
number on that post and the wire too, and had
a cow bent on either side of it, they would
have remained there, more on the honor system than by force.
The turkey had gobbled when I was about halfway across
that fielding from what it sounded like, he was about
two hundred yards away. After catching my breath for the
second time that day, I placed my hand on the
(19:49):
top strand of loose bob wire, pressing down so I
could straddle it as I crossed. The wire was rusty
and loose and squeaked loudly like a one note hen yep,
making that turn gobble as I froze, my left foot
on the ground, the other in mid air, my shotgun
in my right hand, and my left full of antique fencing.
(20:10):
He was no more than thirty yards away, and I
could see the top of his fan just around the
finger that he'd walked down from the top of that ridge.
With one motion, I rolled over that fence, sat on
the ground, and released the wire that squeaked again, snatching
another gobble out of that turkey.
Speaker 2 (20:29):
I had just.
Speaker 1 (20:30):
Enough time to shoulder my shotgun and punch off that
safety when he stepped out of strut and I sent
him to glory.
Speaker 2 (20:36):
It was eleven fifty eight. I couldn't believe what had
just happened.
Speaker 1 (20:43):
I had just called up a turkey with a bobed
wire fence, and not just any turkey, a twenty six
pound monster was nearly a foot of beard and on
the plus side of one inch spurs. It was a
unique experience, for sure. How many folks can say they
did that, even though it was all unintentional, and fate
(21:04):
had allowed me to be in the right place at
the right time to make a racket that would have
normally had the opposite effect on my hunt. It was
a day and a hunt that I'll never forget, but
not for what you'd think.
Speaker 2 (21:19):
I'll never forget it for what didn't happen.
Speaker 1 (21:23):
I didn't get to share the experience with mister Max.
I only got to tell him about it. Bless his heart,
he didn't even hear me shoot. He just raised his
fists above his head, waving at me when I stepped
out of the shade of the tree line into the
sunlight of that field, and that monster of Missouri turkey
over my shoulder like I just kicked the winning field
(21:45):
goal and the Super Bowl as.
Speaker 2 (21:47):
Time ran out.
Speaker 1 (21:49):
The plowed muddy ground was mister Max's limiting factor. He
couldn't walk any very fast, and he knew I could.
He'd waited on me all morning in the hills to
keep up with him, and it had cost us an
opportunity at a turkey. Time was of the essence on
this one, and he refused to be the reason I
(22:10):
wouldn't get a second chance. Five minutes earlier, I'd been
standing with my foot on that turkey's neck, being thankful
for the blessing and watching the last of his feathers
relax in permanent rest as his life faded away, respectful
in his demise, elated in my victory, and saddened by
the absence of my new friend, who would only see
(22:32):
what I saw as good.
Speaker 2 (22:34):
As I could tell the story.
Speaker 1 (22:37):
Thankfully, there would be other days with mister max in
lots more turkeys before he couldn't go anymore, and time
eventually ran out on my dominion to friend, Cherish the
Maxis and the Tobys in your life who have enough
foresight to point you in the right direction even when
you don't realize it. Thank you so much for listening
(23:00):
to this country life, Bear Grease and the render here
on the Bear Grease channel until next week. This is
Brent Reeves signing off.
Speaker 2 (23:09):
Y'all be careful
Host
Clay Newcomb
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