It was back in 2004 when I took a kid afield for New York State’s first-ever youth turkey-hunting weekend. Living in the Adirondacks then, the temperature bottomed out at a brisk 18 degrees on that Saturday morning. But Jake was more than willing to give it a try.
We called in a curious fisher shortly off the roost, and not surprisingly didn’t hear any gobbling. But later that morning we spied a pair of lone jakes, got set up into position and they dutifully strolled into shotgun range.
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