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Photo by Jill Easton |
Bobbie McAlpine
“It’s my turn now,” said Bobbie McAlpine. “For 25 years there was only room in the truck for three. It was important to us for our boys to be grounded in the wild, so I stayed home, listened to the stories, tended the injuries and had a hot meal ready when they got back.”
Things have changed in a big way. Not only has Bobbie taken 15 gobblers in nine states in the last five years, but she and husband Harold have become semi-permanent spring gypsies, traveling thousands of miles in pursuit of wild turkeys. In April they pack their 31-foot travel trailer and head out. They don’t come home until late May, when the pines at their Christmas tree farm in Bismarck, Ark., need shearing. During the two-month trip they hunt in a minimum of six states, both alone and with a revolving guest list, including their two sons and their families, plus a wide variety of friends, who either live near their favorite hunting spots or who cram into the little camper with them.
Making the transition hasn’t always been easy. Bobbie grew up hunting and even took marksmanship courses in college. In the days before their sons came along, she and Harold hunted upland birds and waterfowl at their first home in Iowa, out West when they ran a fire tower while in college, and in Arkansas before the boys were born. But years of running tractors and shearing Christmas trees left her with shoulder injuries that made it hard to shoot a 12 gauge. Her 5-foot-tall frame didn’t help much, either.
“The first morning I ever went turkey hunting I shot a gobbler on the edge of a Kansas cornfield,” she said. “It was one of the greatest days of my life. I jumped up, started whooping and ran to the gobbler. He was a sight I’ll never forget.”
During the hunt she didn’t feel any pain, but that night and for the next week, her shoulder sent a strong message. Not only was she black and blue, but her right arm ached to the point it was uncomfortable to move, and the bruise lasted for weeks.
She tried recoil pads and padded clothing, but nothing sufficiently protected her from the gun’s kick. Not surprisingly, she developed a flinch, and during her first four years of turkey hunting she missed more birds than she killed and was getting discouraged.
“I’d dream about the kick at night,” Bobbie said. “Every time I shot it was like being beaten with a glowing spike. It was nearly impossible to keep from flinching when I shot.”
Four years later, with only a few birds on her life list, sons John and Burt bought her a Remington 870 with a Knoxx recoil-reducing stock. The gun made her much more comfortable shooting the heavy turkey loads.
These days the McAlpines hunt almost exclusively on public land. This year their stops will include New Mexico, Oklahoma, Nebraska, Kansas, Missouri and South Dakota. It’s a lifestyle many turkey hunters would envy, and one that Bobbie wouldn’t trade.
“Each year we go back to many of the same places, but it never gets old,” Bobbie said. “Maps of public hunting areas provide new areas to check out, and each season we explore a couple of new wildlife management areas and grasslands.”
After the first five years in the turkey woods, silence is the thing Bobbie treasures most about her time outdoors. At the Christmas tree farm she is constantly surrounded by rumbling, growling, thrashing machinery, so silence is a rare commodity in her life, but some silences are better than others.
“The silence I like best is the moment after I’ve hit my box call, right before a big gobbler answers,” she said with a grin. “I get peace and enjoyment from being outside, but the best moments outdoors are when that bird comes strutting in with his tail fanned and neck hooked, shining in the morning sun. The second best is when I get a turkey in a spot Harold doesn’t give much hope, and he doesn’t get one in a more promising location.”
Bobbie also enjoys honing the new skills she developed during turkey season.
“Each year I learn new strategies for turkey hunting,” she said. “Some of them come from the friends I share camps with, some come from strangers I meet in the woods and campgrounds, and many come from the birds themselves. If I had to name one person who has provided the most benefit to my hunts, it would be my husband, sharing his experiences from all the years he and the boys hunted and I stayed home.”
For 61-year-old Bobbie McAlpine, her turn in the turkey woods is proving to be awesome. — Jill J. Easton