Opening Day 2015

Woke up and rolled over to check time.  4:30 am.  Right on time.  Rolled out of bed and gathered gear, grabbed a cup of coffee and headed to the truck only to be greeted by high winds and drizzle.  Not exactly great hunting weather.  Since I was already up, I headed out anyways, contemplating just heading in to work but figured you can’t shoot turkeys at work (at least I think there is something preventing that in the Policies and Procedures Manual). 

Arrive at destination and see no other trucks-guess no one else is dumb enough to head out.  After sitting in truck for a few minutes I decide to head into the woods.  Proceed to the far corner of an open field to listen.  Step into the woods a bit to be able to hear a bit better, when out of the far corner of the wood lot I hear it.  Faintly the first time, then a bit louder, a muted gobble. 

Sweet.  I figure I need to get across the creek that I know separates me from the bird, so I head off that way, making my way through the spring woods.  It’s getting a bit lighter now but not much as the overcast skies keep the sunlight out.  Again, not the ideal turkey hunting weather.  The bird gobbles a few more times and as usual, I set up too far away in fear of spooking him while he’s on the roost. 

After 15 minutes or so, I can tell the bird has flown down and is heading the opposite way.  Dang it.  Gather all my crap and trudge further into the woods after him.  The bird had been quiet for about 15 minutes or so and since I didn’t know where he was, I decided to call. 

Yelp Yelp Yelp.

GOBBBLLELE. 

He’s right there!  I drop to the ground and scramble to get my face mask and gloves on. 

Gobble! He says again (cuz that’s what they always say). 

He’s even closer now, but just over the lip of the hill.  Then I see it-the rounded tail fan of a gobbler in full strut.  He’s about 60 yards out and tops the hill-big red head and long swinging beard, he starts walking right toward me.  With nothing between him and me but a few tiny saplings, there is no way to move without being busted. 

He keeps getting closer – 40 yards….30 yards…..20 yards. 

He pauses and is still in full strut, and he makes a 180 degree turn looking for the “hen” which makes his little beady eyes shielded by his tail fan.

Then: WAH WAH WAH! 

The alarm clock goes off and I roll over and turn it off. Time to go to work.

At least when dreaming of hunting turkeys you don’t miss any work time nor have to clean a turkey.  Of course the pictures aren’t nearly as interesting.