Mistakes of First-Time Hunters

I grew up hearing stories about hunters, but with this mentality, they lived in some far distant land, separated from where I lived in a suburban jungle. Hunting seemed like an unattainable pastime in suburban California. I was 32 before I killed my first deer, though I had taken some large game in previous years. The idea of hunting in California seemed to be an exotic experience that was unavailable to me in my present location. I had uncles in states ranging from Minnesota to Kentucky who would hunt, but it always seemed financially unattainable to join them in my youth. Luckily, the fishing off the coast of southern California was some of the best I've ever experienced. Unfortunately, it wasn't until I was an adult that I began to discover opportunities within California by sacrificing a little extra sleep and spending long hours on the road. Having read many hunting books since then, I can't help but feel I missed out on a lot by not looking hard enough when I was younger.

In my late 20s, I had a friend who wanted to get into hunting and began to discover individuals who would hunt in the mountains that bordered where we lived, known as the Peninsular Ranges, which ran from Los Angeles all the way down into Baja Mexico. It was about this time that we also discovered the two turkey seasons that California allowed. Something I took for granted in hindsight, now that I live in North Carolina, where there's only one Spring turkey season, and it is barely a month long.

As we approached the day of our first planned hunt, we both purchased what gear we thought we needed and way overpacked in camping-style backpacks that were way too big. We had the thought that we were setting off into the outback, where anything could happen. I carried that backpack in the field for at least two years before downsizing to a hiking fanny pack-style bag. At least it was good endurance training for long, steep hikes.

As we drove up to the mountains that morning, the most ridiculous thing happened. In the early morning before the sun had risen, we zig-zagged aimlessly on the mountain roads to where we thought we were going. Somehow, we had worked it up in our heads that there was some obvious spot where all hunters went. There would be a parking lot at a trailhead, and we'd be getting out of the car alongside other hunters heading down the trail like a group of patrons showing up to an amusement park. Our suburban mindset was definitely showing.

As you would expect, no parking lot for a designated hunting area existed, and we drove through mountain roads for hours trying to figure out where to go. I quickly realized our ridiculous mistake and began to search on Google Maps for what might be areas we actually wanted to try. The low cell signal made this quite difficult. This is also when I would discover onX Hunt's GPS Maps, whose number one feature is the ability to run without a signal. I still use the app today for more purposes than just hunting. One of the most valuable apps out there. Unfortunately, I did not know enough about this app to help us this day.

I found another area that might work, far south of us, in a mountain area that borders Mexico. We stopped for lunch in a small town in the mountains called Julian, where we would also frequent over the years for lunch and wine on the way to overnight hunts in Southeastern California. If nothing else, this first day was full of discovery as to just how beautiful Southern California truly was. From farms to the Southern wine country that we were unaware existed in our backyard.

Arriving at the second spot, I discovered that we had surprisingly found the parking lot we thought we were going to find earlier at a campsite trailhead. There were no other hunters, but we would later discover hikers. Thinking we had our heads on straight, we locked the car and headed down off the path and into the woods with a shotgun in my hands and a bow in my friend's. Besides the fact that we were now hunting Turkey in the middle of the day, we were also not exactly stealthy. Quit the opposite, frankly. My friend is one of those eccentric redheads who can get quite animated in conversations. My nickname for him is Woody the Woodpecker, and the character's staple laugh is the custom text tone I keep on my phone. This is appropriate as he can also send several mini texts one after another instead of a long text, triggering a series of Woody laughs. As we blazed down the trail, our conversation consisted of heated politics that had been an ongoing subject since that morning. Our voices carried through the forest as we searched for turkeys.

I had previously heard that turkeys responded to crow calls. Since I prided myself on making certain animal calls, I gave this a shot to see if I could hear any turkeys in the distance. We did not hear any turkey respond, but instead the giggles of two teenage girls sitting up on a large boulder near where we were standing. I did not notice them at first and kept making my call until Woody pointed them out. Shortly after this, we came across many hikers going across the trail. Being in California, where gun ownership can be frowned upon by some individuals, this felt a little uncomfortable at the time. Eventually, we resolved that we were out at the wrong time of day and were probably making far too much noise to find any turkey. Looking back all these years later in hindsight, we were basically walking through the forest yelling at the turkey to run. We definitely would have been snapped at several times throughout this day by an experienced hunter, and likely not invited back. Luckily we were allowing ourselves to cut our teeth on this hunting thing on our own.

The next challenge was making it back to the car. Instead of taking the trail, which was full of hikers, we decided to b-line it across the tree-covered hills back to where we thought the car was. After hiking for what we thought was the same distance as we had just walked out, we quickly discovered that we were lost. This is where the onX Hunt app could have helped if I had known how to properly use it at the time. Using landmarks I thought I recognized, we were able to zig-zag our way back to the car. It did not take long, but after the feeling of being lost, it was a huge relief to find the car. I have read stories of hunters dealing with extreme anxiety because of being lost in the woods close to dark, especially without a compass. A compass was one of the few things I did have, thanks to my overpacking. After a long day of mindless exploration, we headed back home.

With that embarrassment behind us, I did a lot more research online and even called the local game wardens of the areas we were looking at hunting, asking where were the recommended places to hunt were. I did discover that the place we ended our day with, before near the Mexico border, was a good place to hunt, but it was zoned for bow hunting only. I was lucky that I did not get caught with my shotgun there. We did later return with bows and discovered that it is a great place for deer, as we watched them crossing ridges from where we sat and waited for turkey. But being so far from home, it was going to be too much of an effort to visit on a regular basis.

The second time we went out, we tried a different section of the mountain that my research led me to and was recommended by the game warden. This one was closer to home and had a few spots we could park on the side of the road. Here, we did see hunters parking and heading off into the woods, so we felt we were in the right place this time. Another friend began to join us as we explored this section of the mountain. Here at this high altitude, peace can be found. Silence surrounds the forest with the wind winding through the tops of the trees as the only noise for miles. The crisp air on your face makes you want to take a deep breath and take it all in. Like the enjoyment of being out fishing even when you do not catch anything, this was the same feeling for hunting. God's country was worth spending time in. It was like the Holy Spirit was whispering through the treetops, telling me I was home. My heart still longs to stand under those trees. Hunting is not just about the kill. It is about this experience.

Over the course of a few years, we continued to frequent these spots, exploring the mountainsides of the thick and overgrown to clear open fields. Never once did we spot a shootable turkey, only the faint sounds of gobbles in the distance. We learned to make turkey calls, but didn't have the ability to coax them in. The only places we did see turkeys were on the side of the road or on private property. It was like they knew fish and game laws and stood tauntingly in plain sight of hunters where we were not allowed to shoot. Still, these were some of my fondest memories in my early years of hunting.

The biggest lesson here, despite all the mistakes we made and learned from, is just to get out there. You don't know what you don't know, and unless you have someone who can teach you, you just have to get dirty and cut your teeth on self-built experience. I laugh at myself now, but these were the days of stepping into hunting and got me to where I am today. The very first sermon I heard from my current minister at the church I now go to focused on one key concept. It's not about winning or losing, it's win or learn. There is no losing. So if you're thinking about getting into hunting, do your research and just get out there. Go on some hikes with the intention of scouting. Maybe you are not hunting this year, but finding those local spots that you can hunt next year. Bring a friend or two and make some memories. That is what it is all about.