 This year was to be the year my daughter and I were to put a serious effort into figuring out how to hunt spring gobblers. We had half-heartedly tried for an hour or so last spring, but to no avail. For some reason, turkeys were just never on my priority list, so I never quite got around to learning how to call them into shotgun range. By the time I decided that turkey hunting would be fun, I no longer had the health or stamina to be in the woods during warmer months. I do manage to muster up the strength for a good deal of deer hunting once a killing frost hits, much to the delight of my daughter, who has come to surpass me in the pursuit of whitetails. She may no longer need my mentoring, but by law in Pennsylvania, she still needs my presence beside her until she is sixteen.This spring was particularly wet and rainy, and the high mold counts outside made it risky for me to be out very much. In addition, I have had some bad cases of sinusitis, which make even everyday activities a challenge. I was watching yet another spring turkey season disappear. Since my husband barely gets out hunting anymore, and he knows even less about turkeys than I do, it looked as if Lisa would not get a chance to get out at all this year. She has no hunting relatives to teach her what I cannot teach or take her where I cannot go. Fortunately, there was one trusted friend who came through for us. I have known Dr. Jack Armstrong for about three years. During my first office visit, I had told him how my sudden and severe allergies had made it nearly impossible for me to enjoy hunting. I would have expected an allergist to tell me to give up my outdoor pursuits for the sake of my health, but as it turned out, he was quite supportive. * He never once suggested that I should abandon my rural lifestyle or my hunting. He understands that my connection to the land is so integral to my well being, for he shares the same feelings. I believe that he grew to love the land because he was raised on a farm in Western Pennsylvania, and came from a family of hunters. His farm boy upbringing also shows forth in his common sense doctoring, his conservative values, and his love for God. I knew I had found not only an excellent doctor, but also a friend and brother. Over the next two years, I brought my husband and two of my four children to see him for diagnosis and treatment of their allergies. It felt good to have someone I could trust with their health.  Whenever Lisa and I would go for allergy shots during hunting season, Dr. Armstrong would ask us if we had seen any deer, or gotten any yet. When Lisa shot her first deer two years ago, he was almost as thrilled as we were. When she shot her first buck, he made sure he saw us after our next allergy shot appointment. He sat down with us and asked Lisa to tell him every detail of her exciting and successful hunt. We told him that he should come out to the farm and hunt sometime, and he said that he would take us up on the offer during Spring turkey season, and that he would show Lisa how to hunt gobblers.The season was almost literally a washout. Lisa's hunt was to be the second Saturday of the month long season, but the rain that never seem to quit for weeks was accompanied by lightning. Dr. Armstrong felt that guns make very good lightning rods, so he postponed his trip to the farm until Memorial Day weekend. His brother, an avid hunter and quite adept with a turkey call, would come along to give Lisa the best possible opportunity to harvest a Tom.  As it turned out, neither the weather nor the turkeys would cooperate that day. The trio took off early that last Saturday of the season, and attempted to locate a gobbler, but apparently, the birds had better things to do, such as keep under shelter in the soggy mess. Lisa had fun anyway, showing her mentors the farm, our new orchard and food plot, and the multitude of deer trails on the ridge behind us. Then the brothers came in to dry off a bit and see our family's small collection of antlers, along with Lisa's "Robin Hood", the contest-winning arrows she glued in place and hung in the family room. My husband joined us as we chatted for a while, enjoying the pleasant visit with two outstanding and selfless men who gave up their Saturday to help pass on a great Pennsylvania tradition.As is true with any hunt shared with friends, the success of that day is measured more in the fellowship enjoyed than in the game animals taken. Mark Armstrong, we learned, is every bit as nice as his brother. There must be good roots in the soil of that family farm. When he and the good doctor left, I told them they are welcome to come to our farm and hunt any time. I hope they will take me up on the offer to come during archery deer season, for my seven acre clover field is looking mighty good now, and from the looks of my beleaguered apple trees, the deer have found my young orchard to be a popular place to hang the feedbag. I know a certain young lady hunter who will be picking out some prime spots where her special guests can place their treestands. |
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