Monday, April 20, 2009

Linda: Zero, Turkeys: Won

Yup! Sad to say, the turkeys won this round. It was one of those "not meant to be" things. Arrived at the property bright and early only to find a vehicle right in front of the gate--stuck. And the road (20 years ago I wouldn't have recognized such a set of rutted tracks as constituting a "road" but that's what it is) wasn't wide enough to get around the vehicle. It was either help him, or back out for at least a half mile--not that we even considered doing anything but helping of course!

Turned out to be the landowner's brother-in-law. Nice guy, all dressed in a brand new, probably never been worn ghilly suit (That's one of those types of suits made to make you look like you're a walking bush.) who was also confessing that this was the first time he'd ever tried hunting spring turkeys.

After about 30 minutes (and a can of Fresca) we got the terminals on his car battery cleaned off enough for it to make contact; jumped his vehicle, and got him going again so we could ALL get through the gate.

While consoling ourselves that although we should have been already set up and ready to call, it was good to be able to help someone out--sincerely. If we hadn't come along, this guy would have been S.O.L. because cell phones don't get a signal out there.

Suddenly I look up and see somthing running in the road ahead of us. Obviously a turkey! Hen or gobbler? Couldn't tell, but it WAS a turkey!!! After about 30 seconds the turkey decided to veer to the right. Oh yes! OH! It was a gobbler! A GOOD gobbler! THAT was the turkey I wanted. Of course with brother-in-law chugging along behind us, we it was clear we could forget THAT!

As soon as we could we pulled over and parked the truck. As quietly as possible we got our gear out; the guns loaded, and we were off to hopefully intercept that bird!

No such luck. Heard a bird off in the pecan bottom behind us, so we picked up and moved. Mike called and I listened. Nothing. Waited for awhile and called again. Yes! I heard one, but it was obviously moving in the opposite direction. So off we go again.

The perfect set-up! I've killed two previous turkeys in the general area. For whatever reason, they LIKE this spot! In place now, camo gloves on, camo face-mask up, I'm ready. Mike calls. Yes! Not just one turkey, but TWO! Be cool. Just wait and be cool. I can do that. Mike calls again. Oh my god! TWO turkeys call from the opposite direction!! We sat still and waited. Mike gave it everything he had, and the turkeys loved what they heard, but they just weren't coming to us. Wait some more. Call again. This time the gobblers are answering, but they're moving off. Hens. Just my luck! We kept at it for another 30 minutes or so, but we just couldn't get them to turn around.

And then? Boom! Boom! I looked at Mike in total disgust. The shots were from the direction brother-in-law said he would be hunting. But no, Mike declared it wasn't a shotgun. Just as I'm about to question his declaration about gun type, another shot. And another. And yet another. There are times when it just doesn't pay to get up, and this was one of those mornings. We obviously had a neighboring landowner/redneck/idiot out target shooting. I mean, come on! It's a weekday morning and it the opening day of turkey season. Who else but an idiot would do such as thing?! Certainly NO self-respecting turkey would be hanging out to listen to that.

So we packed it up and went back to the truck where we realized we'd forgotten the decoys. So Mike decided to give the dogs a walk and go back for them. He's coming back and is within sight of the truck when this, this "person" emerged from the woods caring a dinky little bow. All I could do is stare. With a blond waist-length pony-tail stuck through the back of a ratty-looking ball cap I decided it must be a female because only women wear their hair stuck through a cap that way. A really ugly one built like a dump truck, but female nonetheless. Then I looked again. No, it was a guy wearing, well, what was it he was wearing?? I tried to determine that as he began talking to Mike. Turns out to be yet another first-time turkey hunter.

Whereas the brother-in-law was "dressed to kill" this guy obviously didn't worry about his hunting wardrobe. Not that I'm a hunting wardrobe fashion plate by any means, but this guy was ridiculus! He was enough to give anyone nightmares! Forget Shineyourhiney's bath mitt, this guy was scarey! Once you got over laughing. Ya gotta give points to anyone with enough "intrinsic flare" to be able to wear a dirty, ratty ball cap with with his ponytail stuck through it like a girl, an unbuttoned camo shirt worn over a gray T-shirt that says who-knows-what, and (the best part!) a pair of blue cotton running shorts over a pair of gray long underwear! Oh, and hunting boots! Yessiree! Oh yeah! What can ya say!? Lots of turkeys in those woods, but not all were the type we wanted.

Maybe next week. But in the meantime, all I could think of as I was looking at this guy was Shineyourhiney's bath mitt that was alleged by someone on some other sight to "cause nightmares. Yeah right! In fact, Shineyourhiney's soap is something this guy could have used--in copious quantities. Actually, if you haven't tried her soap you really need to. My husband Mike is so fond of it he's commandeered several bars of it so when he travels he doesn't have to use hotel soap. Somehow, I'm not too sure about taking handmade soap to a deer camp because it just doesn't quite fit the image, but now that he's used it, he's gotta have it! And while you're there, be sure to look up the bath mitt "monsters." They won't be wearing long underwear and running shorts, but you'll love them nonetheless.

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