I got home just in time for Easter dinner yesterday afternoon. I spent Easter weekend at the ranch chasing turkey with my son, Wingdinger. Let me start out by saying that the weekend was fantastic, and I had one heck of a good time, but in retrospect, things have changed.

For those of you that have been on here for a while, you may know that my son and I have shared many a hunt together, and in doing so, developed a relationship that is something special. Last year, when Wingdinger turned 18, I bought him a membership on our lease, with the understanding that I would pay his way while(and as long as) he is in college.

We left for the ranch on Friday, with a goal of getting out in time to scout our planned hunting area one last time (I had been scouting the area pretty well over the past month or so). After we scouted, and were headed back to camp, my son indicated he would like to hunt some pigs in a blind we call the wheat field. When we got back to camp, he took the truck and an old lever action 30/30 of mine, and I started to cook supper. At around 6 p.m., I got a text from him saying he had several turkey in front of him, and that one was a monster. I did not answer him as he is prone to pulling my leg, and I had kept scout camera's on that blind for the entire deer season, and never got a picture of one turkey. Approximately an hour later, I had stepped outside, and heard a gunshot from the direction of the blind, and sure enough, I got a text confirming that he had killed a huge black boar. He arived back at camp after he took care of the boar, and sure enough, he had taken pictures of the turkey with his iPhone, and there were two really nice toms in strut in the pictures. Since we knew those birds were moving into the wheat field in the afternoon, we decided to wait and hunt them the next afternoon.

The next morning, we hunted our planned spot, and as luck would have it, we had a couple birds answer us, but they quickly got quiet, and we never got a gobbler to come into range. On the way back to camp, we developed a plan for the afternoon hunt. I suggested we split up to increase our odds of getting a shot at a gobbler. My son was reluctant, but agreed. You see, we always hunt turkey together, and my son had never hunted turkey on his own.

That afternoon. I dropped Wingdinger at the wheat field, and I headed to another spot. I set up in a group of cedars and called off and on until I finally got an answer. During this time, I got a text from my son, and he told me that a gobbler with about an 8 inch beard had come to him, but he passed as he was waiting on that big one he had seen the night before. I told him he might regret that. After sweet talking for a good hour, I got a gobbler to come in to me. He was with 7 hens, and once the hens started chirping, I never could get the gobbler to come around the cedar. He was within 20 feet of me, and I could hear him spitting and drumming, but I never got a clear shot, or was able to see his size. Shortly after those turkeys moved off. I heard two shots. Not long after, I got a text, and WD said he had two birds down!

I headed over to him, and sure enough, he had taken two nice birds, the largest of which was a 3-4 year old with an almost ten inch beard, and over one inch spurs. We high fived, took pictures, and went back to camp so I could watch him clean his birds. That night we ate, watched TV and planned the hunt for the next day. I was pretty sure WD would not go out Sunday morning because he already had birds down.

5 a.m. came early, and I got up and got ready to go out. Suprisingly, WD got up and went out. He hunted a different spot, and I hunted the spot he had taken his two birds the night before. Right at sunrise, but before the birds had come off roost, I heard 3 shots come from WD's direction. I get a text from him telling me that he had just killed 3 hogs with his turkey loads!! I continue my hunt, get some birds to answer, but they hen up quickly, and I never got anything to come close to me all morning. I text WD, and we agree on a pick up spot. When I arrive to pick him up, he is sitting on the side of the road, and promptly shows me a couple of pre-historic Indian points in a wash where he had seen some flint!! Whenever I am in the woods, I constantly peruse the area for signs of Indian campsites or flint flakes.

Now I don't know about you, but this hunting trip surely seemed one sided to me! To recap it for you, Wingdinger takes 4 hogs and two gobblers.....poor old pops....nothing, zip, nada. My ego was bruised. I had been boy whipped!! It had become obvious to me that things have changed, my son is not only a man now, but he has come into his own as a damn good hunter and outdoorsman. A changing of the guard has occured. It made me feel really old.

We returned to camp, took care of some chores that needed tending, packed up and came home to a really nice Easter dinner.

Later that evening, as we sat around, and told the story of our adventure to my wife, it hit me. Although I had been thoroughly out hunted by my son, he had taken a double on turkey the very first time he had ever hunted turkey by himself. He had eradicated 4 hogs, and three of them were taken out when he was hunting turkey. He showed the maturity to take out the pigs and most likely ruin his morning hunt. He had been observant and found those points while just walking up the road. It demonstrates a real awareness of his surroundings, and a genuine interest in what came before.

He had done everything I taught him....and that ain't bad!! Things are different now, but in a good way.

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