Brian Dowler (front), Squirrel (middle) and Chris Ellis fishing the New River in Fayetteville, W.Va.
I heard my father say when I was yet too young to understand that his favorite days of the year were the first and last days of turkey season. I now understand. It’s been a long and sometimes frustrating turkey season, but by taking some vacation days, I was able to salvage it with one of my most memorable seasons ever.
The last week of the West Virginia spring wild turkey hunting season allowed me to get close to doubling with my father, but things went wrong and the birds drifted off at 90 yards with a pair of hens. A couple days later I killed a mature bird on my Grandpa Dowler’s farm, the place where I learned what modest woods skills I possess. What a way to end the year, right? It gets better yet.
The day after that, I took my Pappaw Jack hunting on his farm. Sounds backward, right? He taught me to rabbit hunt when I was still shooting a break-open .410 shotgun. All these years later, I got to return the favor of a hunt by coaxing in a mature tom to 25 yards. Grandpa had never shot a turkey, and told me to shoot him several times while the bird strutted and gobbled into range. When his gun cracked, the bird flopped and emotions poured out. Mission accomplished, two successful hunts in my childhood hills, in a week where many considered turkey season to be “over,” the gobbling “through.”
To finish my trip to my mountain home state, I stopped to fish in Fayetteville with a friend, Chris Ellis of Ellis Communications. We set out with Mountain State Anglers to float the New River’s white water for smallmouth bass, a new adventure for me. I’d heard of the New’s magic to produce a lot of quality smallies all my life, but never taken the time to try it out. Let me tell you friends, even a no-fishing bum like me caught a ton of fish in a half-day trip.
Our guide was a Class-VI whitewater rapids guide, a bald-headed fellow named Squirrel, who normally totes thousands of screaming adventure seekers down the New and Gauley rivers’ rapids. But, he’s good friends with Ellis and decided he’d rather fish for the day. I’m glad he did. The area has an incredible amount of history, and Squirrel was good enough to impart some of it to me.
Last year, I spent much of my winter in W.Va., at Snowshoe Resort snow skiing, now I have another destination to mark during my spring and summer months. I will be back, and now I know the game.
This year’s spring turkey season is over for me, and soon will be for everyone in North America.
Remember, every one of us had someone who took us on our first trip. My Grandpa Dowler who spent countless hours following me in our “Squirrel Woods,” my Pappaw Jack who introduced me to hunting over rabbit hounds with some truly interesting characters, dad who let me screw up some of his well-deserved mornings in the turkey woods and a few of dad’s friends who taught me how to enjoy a mountain cabin hunting camp.
Be good enough to return the favor.
