backstrap
05-18-2006, 11:29 AM
Every once in a while you'll experience a huntin' season that frustrates, dissapoints, and ultimately challenge you. For me that year was this year. These public land birds had me at witts end. I had a hard time locating them, and when I did they seemed to have the drop on me. I'd set up 100 yards or so from a roost only to have them fly down and cross the ridge on the opposite side. Other times the areas I thought they'd be roosting in, they weren't. Throw in the wild swing in temps. rain, and fog, and it's no wonder they left me scratching my head. I've had my chances, blew a couple, and let a couple go by. I've had days when they gobbled at everything, and days when they had a case of lock jaw. I've walked many ridges, crossed countless streams, and fought my way through thickets. I've used decoys for the first time in years, and the only thing they brought in was a hen, and a young curious buck sporting about 2-inches of his new growth. But I kept at it, despite being repeatedly humbled.
A Whip-poor-will greeted me as I arrived at my destination, now becoming a familiar friend. I gulped down the last of my rapidly cooling coffee, grabbed my gear (minus the decoy's) and off I went. My plan was a simple one, if not repetitious, sit in a likely spot and wait. But as I topped a steep ridge, I leaned against a tree and listened to the pre-dawn noises. Before I knew it the morning sky had arrived. Now what? I thought as I searched for a plan B. These birds having been bombarded by every call known to a turkey hunter, I decided to try a different approach. Soft clucks, and purrs, was what I came up with. I got settled, choosing a small "valley" inbetween two steep ridges. I was in my third series of calls when (for some reason unknown even to me) I snapped my head to the left, and was greeted by "alarm putts". As the birds tried to decide which escape route to take, left or right. Seemingly all in one motion the gun came up, the Tru-glo found it mark, and the 3-inch Winchester Turkey load was sent on it's way.
Looking back on it, it was the most challenging season I had in a long, long time. No he wasn't the proverbial Big Man on Campus, weighting in at 16 pounds, and sporting all of a 4-inch beard, but he will definetly be my most memorible one. After days and days of exiting the woods with only frustration, and greif to accompany me. Today I not only had a "trophy", but also the memory of a truely wonderful, and challenging season. Best of luck to all those still out there after 'em!
A Whip-poor-will greeted me as I arrived at my destination, now becoming a familiar friend. I gulped down the last of my rapidly cooling coffee, grabbed my gear (minus the decoy's) and off I went. My plan was a simple one, if not repetitious, sit in a likely spot and wait. But as I topped a steep ridge, I leaned against a tree and listened to the pre-dawn noises. Before I knew it the morning sky had arrived. Now what? I thought as I searched for a plan B. These birds having been bombarded by every call known to a turkey hunter, I decided to try a different approach. Soft clucks, and purrs, was what I came up with. I got settled, choosing a small "valley" inbetween two steep ridges. I was in my third series of calls when (for some reason unknown even to me) I snapped my head to the left, and was greeted by "alarm putts". As the birds tried to decide which escape route to take, left or right. Seemingly all in one motion the gun came up, the Tru-glo found it mark, and the 3-inch Winchester Turkey load was sent on it's way.
Looking back on it, it was the most challenging season I had in a long, long time. No he wasn't the proverbial Big Man on Campus, weighting in at 16 pounds, and sporting all of a 4-inch beard, but he will definetly be my most memorible one. After days and days of exiting the woods with only frustration, and greif to accompany me. Today I not only had a "trophy", but also the memory of a truely wonderful, and challenging season. Best of luck to all those still out there after 'em!