Spring Turkey Youth Hunt
"A First Turkey to Remember"
By Peter Agardy
Bringing kids into the outdoors offers a whole new level of appreciation for the experience—not only for them, but for the mentors who guide them.
I started guiding youth hunts about 11 years ago, and ever since then it has brought me more joy and taught me more about turkey hunting than any hunts before it. When I had my own children, I could only hope they would one day find an interest in coming hunting with me.
From the time she was a baby, I brought Lilian into the woods with me. She has always taken to the outdoors. This season, the time finally came when she wanted to hunt something herself instead of just watching Dad.
I never thought I would be taking my five-year-old on a turkey hunt for her first bird—I didn’t kill my first turkey until my early twenties—but I told her if she could prove to me she had the discipline to practice and learn, I would give her the opportunity.
After a lot of practice and patience, she was finally ready to get behind the gun.
We were given an amazing opportunity to hunt a family friend’s property in the South Zone for South Florida Youth Weekend (for our beloved Osceola Turkey). With good history on the lay of the land, but limited time the day before, we went in late that afternoon to build a blind for the morning hunt, set up chairs and a tripod, and stage our decoys inside.
The blind was tucked into a beautiful dark oak hammock between two field edges and a pond. Turkeys often roost around that area on both sides, so we were excited for the morning—but also a little apprehensive that we might have gotten too close to the roost while setting up the evening before.
Morning came quickly at 4:00 a.m. We got up, drove to the property, and with Lilian riding on my back, a small .410 in my hand, and the rest of our gear loaded up on my chest, picture a pack mule, we started the 1/2 mile walk to the blind in the dark, arriving around 5:30.
With first light approaching around 6:15, we quietly slipped into the blind and waited for the woods to wake up.
As the first light began filtering through the oak hammock and across the nearby field edge, a thunderous gobble exploded from less than 60 yards away in the trees.
It was exhilarating for both of us—but not exactly ideal when you have a five-year-old on her first turkey hunt.
We froze.
Barely moving, we listened as that bird gobbled six or seven more times. Then another longbeard sounded off on the opposite side of us—maybe even closer, around 50 yards away.
Our hearts were already pounding through our chests.
In my mind, I assumed these birds would fly out of the hammock into the nearby open fields… or maybe even the next county.
A few hens around us started making some noise, so I decided to make a few soft tree yelps and clucks—just enough to let the gobblers know we were there.
They answered immediately.
Both birds gobbled back and even fired off at each other before everything suddenly went quiet. I set the calls down and we waited for fly-down.
After about three long minutes of silence, one longbeard pitched down from the roost and landed about 13 yards to our left.
He spotted the decoys immediately, stood as tall as he could, and flapped his wings so hard and close we could actually feel the wind from it.
We tried to stay patient as I slowly got Lilian ready on the gun.
It was still so dark in the hammock that she couldn’t find him in the l sight, and he wouldn’t hold still—constantly moving and circling.
Then he started toward the decoy.
As we slowly adjusted, a jake, a hen, and another longbeard suddenly hit the ground within 30 yards of us.
The second gobbler walked into the decoys in half-strut, completely locked in.
Lilian was finally able to settle the red dot on him.
After a little fumbling and a whispered reminder to make sure of her shot, the .410 TSS rang out.
The gobbler flipped onto his back—feet up.
The rest was history.
We celebrated quietly and waited for the other birds to work away before stepping out of the blind to put our hands on her first turkey.
He was a beautiful mature bird with a 9-inch beard and 1¼-inch spurs.
Our friends came out to meet us, and by then a hazy sunrise was starting to light up the sky. We gathered our gear and walked to the field edge by the pond for photos and to admire the bird’s beautiful plumage glowing in the golden hour.
A hunt that any turkey hunter could only dream of.
To share it with my daughter on her first turkey is something I will cherish forever.
A spoiled first hunt indeed.
Thank you so much to our good friends for this opportunity. We couldn’t have asked for a better hunt, Lilian and I are forever grateful.
Most importantly, I know my daughter gained a deeper respect for our natural world—and the understanding that taking responsibility for the bounty we are given is a gift, not something to take for granted. We Cooked her bird the following day and made fried Turkey nuggets, or "Popcorn Turkey" As Lilian would say.
Peter Agardy
FL CAMO