I couldn't believe it when I got the email — I'd been chosen as one of six lucky Professional Outdoor Media Association (POMA) members to go on a turkey hunt at the Summit conference in Minnesota. One more hunt of the season, in a state I hadn't hunted yet. I was in.

POMA and the National Wild Turkey Federation (NWTF) had handled all the logistics. Each participant was set up with a Benelli Super Black Eagle 3 Turkey Performance Shop 12-gauge shotgun with a Rob Roberts choke, topped with a Burris FastFire III red dot, and loaded with Remington Final Strut ammo. The gun had already been sighted in, but we took the opportunity to pattern it before the hunt. Mine was perfect — no adjustments needed. And that ammo looked quite promising!

I was paired with Susan Delk from the NWTF. Though she's been hunting for less than 10 years, she spoke and carried herself like a turkey-hunting professional. She and the other NWTF reps had spent the morning prior to our hunt listening for birds, and Susan had located a couple of gobblers in our hunting area before we ever set foot in the field.

The 3:30 alarm came early, but we wanted to be in position at first light. It paid off — three toms gobbled from the roost, and we were within 200 yards. We tucked into a ground blind at the field corner, watched all three fly down, and then figured out they worked away from us without ever answering a call. After waiting them out, we slipped out of the blind and slowly tried to close the distance. We eventually spotted them over 500 yards out — three jakes and one tom, steadily feeding through young corn rows across a dirt road on a neighboring property. They weren’t coming back—time to find another bird.

After making our way back across the property, we couldn't believe our fortune when we spotted a tom in full strut on the edge of a field. A quick look revealed two hens with him, and we started formulating a plan.

With limited cover along the field edge, I would go alone. The gobbler was preoccupied with his hens, and I was able to sneak through some wet ground, using what few small trees there were for cover. I positioned myself in front of where they seemed to be heading and waited. Then the hens slipped into the woods. Barely 100 yards away, the tom held the field edge, not even slightly wanting to inch my way.

After about 15 minutes, the hens came back out, but they weren't heading in my direction. With the gobbler in tow, they started a slow trek away, quartering toward the opposite corner of the field. It was time for a big move.

I worked back through the wet ground and found Susan where I'd left her. She'd been an excellent spotter while we were split up, and now we needed a new plan. If we moved quickly and stayed behind the crest of the field, we could get in front of the trio before they reached the far corner. One obstacle stood in our way: a ditch full of knee-deep water and thick black mud. We found a crossing that only cost each of us one completely soaked foot, totally worth it in the end.

Staying just inside the woodline, we stalked toward where we thought the birds were headed. A couple of peeks over the rise let me spot the tips of the gobbler's fan — enough to confirm we were in the right place. If the hens kept him moving our direction, he'd pass within 40 yards.

What happened next was better than we’d hoped. The hens turned and walked straight toward us. I whispered to Susan, "This is about to happen." While she filmed, those hens kept coming, calm and steady with no sign of alarm. All we had to do was stay still.

And that's exactly what we did. Once the hens were within 20 yards, the gobbler was still in full strut about 10 yards behind them. I leaned forward to clear some brush with the barrel, settled the Burris FastFire III red dot on his wattles, and slowly squeezed the trigger.

The Remington Final Strut Tungsten load did its job. The tom folded right where he was standing. His two hens scattered in opposite directions as we moved into the field to confirm the harvest.

The celebration that followed was something I won't forget. The whole sequence — from first spotting the gobbler in full strut to the shot — had taken just over an hour. He’d barely broken full strut the entire time. As Susan and I sat there taking it all in, we marveled at how each piece of the hunt had unfolded almost as if it had been scripted.

What I didn't expect was to walk away with a new friend. Susan and I shared life stories and experiences throughout the morning, and I genuinely appreciated the time we spent together in God's great outdoors.

Thank you to NWTF, POMA, Benelli, Burris, Rob Roberts, and Remington for making this adventure truly memorable.