HUNTING JOURNAL- DAY 3
4:55 am- Alarm goes off. I get up. Coffee. 38 degrees. Clear. No wind. ET news: The top story is Joey Buttafucco and Amy Whatshername sitting across from one another and airing their 15 year old dirty laundry exclusively for ET. Joey's family had a cabin just down the road from our's at Wolf Lake. I'm a few years older than JB so I'm sure Bird and I tormented his chubby ass as a kid. Everyone has one of those cutesy pie rustic signs outside their house at the lake. The Christmo sign is MAUWRA. The Buttafucco's was PIT STOP. Joey and Amy still can't agree on who's fault it all was that she put a bullet In Joey's wife's head. My question is why we should care? If it was me, I wouldn't give them any more attention. I do wish i had stolen that sign. EBAY would be all over it.
Go back down to the river but it's silent. Then I hear a gobble back on the ridge. i climb the hill, sweating and panting. I'm over dressed and out of shape. I set out a jake decoy and call. Nothing. Then I hear the one back across the river. GNJohn called me last night to tell me he was renting his property to some turkey hunters for the weekend, so I have to get this bird before Saturday. I decide to head down to the river again. On my way down the hill i catch sight of something moving through the woods. It's a hen. I stop and make a couple of calls hoping a tom is trailing her. One gobbles close by. Bingo! I find a fat tree and set up. Then another gobble- closer. It must be the two from across the river. In 15 minutes I get them close enough to see tail feathers fanned out, but too far for a shot. They hang up and gobble like crazy. They're waiting for me to come to them. Now's the tricky part.
It's a chess game now. I call sparingly and increasingly softer, giving the toms the impression I'm moving off. It works. They fire up and come closer. Now they are right below a rock drop off. Their gobbles shake the tree branches. Steady. Then i catch sight of a big head, just below me. Then another. I slowly swing the gun. They catch sight of my movement and stop dead in their tracks. I only have a second to settle the sights and shoot. FUCK! Miss again! I pump another shell in the chamber and fire a second shot at the flying bird. He drops. I rush down the ridge and and put my foot on the dying turkey's neck. I check my watch. 7:00 am. End Day 3.
Go back down to the river but it's silent. Then I hear a gobble back on the ridge. i climb the hill, sweating and panting. I'm over dressed and out of shape. I set out a jake decoy and call. Nothing. Then I hear the one back across the river. GNJohn called me last night to tell me he was renting his property to some turkey hunters for the weekend, so I have to get this bird before Saturday. I decide to head down to the river again. On my way down the hill i catch sight of something moving through the woods. It's a hen. I stop and make a couple of calls hoping a tom is trailing her. One gobbles close by. Bingo! I find a fat tree and set up. Then another gobble- closer. It must be the two from across the river. In 15 minutes I get them close enough to see tail feathers fanned out, but too far for a shot. They hang up and gobble like crazy. They're waiting for me to come to them. Now's the tricky part.
It's a chess game now. I call sparingly and increasingly softer, giving the toms the impression I'm moving off. It works. They fire up and come closer. Now they are right below a rock drop off. Their gobbles shake the tree branches. Steady. Then i catch sight of a big head, just below me. Then another. I slowly swing the gun. They catch sight of my movement and stop dead in their tracks. I only have a second to settle the sights and shoot. FUCK! Miss again! I pump another shell in the chamber and fire a second shot at the flying bird. He drops. I rush down the ridge and and put my foot on the dying turkey's neck. I check my watch. 7:00 am. End Day 3.
posted by mike osterhout at 9:57 AM
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