Turkey season opened here today, and I was hiding in a hedge row between two fields, bow in hand, at 5:20 Am. I hadn't seen many birds here this spring, but there has been a decent tom and a couple hens in this field for the past couple mornings, so my hopes were high. As things started to lighten up, I strained to hear a gobble. Nothing. When it was light enough to call, I did. Nothing. I called once in a while for a couple hours, with the same result. At this point, I thought I'd move, so I made a big circle, trying to stay out of sight. This brought me to the other side of what I would say was a ten acre patch of spruces. They are thick and probably average 20' high. I know from past experience that It's a good place to kill birds. From there, I can see across some mostly open ground and across a hay field. I have a brush blind here too. I'd been sitting there, calling on and off for about an hour, When a hen walked out into the field. No tom. I watched her feed for about a half hour, when a hen started yelping off to my right. We talked back and forth for probably ten minutes, and she seemed to be getting agitated, so I gave it to her harder, hoping she'd get mad and come in to run me off, and bring her boyfriend with her. Pretty soon I could see her and another hen coming towards me, and guess what was strutting along behind them. He never gobbled once through all the calling. They came in to about 50 yards, then turned along an old fence line, and headed for, you guessed it, the field I started in. I let them get out of sight, and headed back around the spruces at a pretty good pace for an old man with two worn out knees. I got to the end of the spruces and called. I figured I was ahead of them, but didn't want to spook them at this point. Not a peep. I called again. Nothing. I thought I have a better chance if I could get to the far corner of the trees and call from there, so I crawled almost to the end, which put me about 30 yards out into the main part of the field. I looked things over quick and decided to move to the edge and back into/under a thick spruce. When I made it to the corner, I slowly lifted myself up onto my elbows to make sure the coast was clear before I moved into the trees, and I'm eyeball to eyeball with a hen at about ten yards. The tom was another 30 yards in back of her. at this point, she's making tracks back the way they came and the tom is still looking at me. The birds usually don't walk as close to the edge of those thick spruces, you never know what's hiding in there waiting for a turkey dinner. Anyway, turkeys one, Bob 0. When something like this happens, I swear at myself under my breath for a couple minutes, then walk home with a big smile on my face. Tomorrow is another day.
Bob
Topic: So Close I Could Taste The Gravy (Read 341 times)
