OK I'll go first.
Some may have read my post,Behind the 8. Nothing too negative. Just going off on a little rant. It's just been a little slow start for me. Motivation is what I needed,some call it a kick in the pants.
I started off lucky right out of the gate. A bone head blunder,I set my alarm for the wrong time. It's a good thing I rolled over to see what time it was. 3:00 am comes early. A quick cup of Coffey and I was on the road buy 3:30. The ride seemed shorter than normal, drizzling and Rainy at times. Johnny and Willey's story tellers filled in the air waves.
Arriving at 5:30 I had another quick cup of Joe and scurried to get my gear ready. It was like I was in mid season form.
It had rained hard the night before,so all was quiet on the roost. It was good slow walk as the overcast sky started to show. Listing hard all the way,I wished my son was with me with his young ears.(not the only reason) My hearing isn't what it used to be. There was very little gobbling.
Setting up in an open area seemed to be a good option,after the hard rains from the previous evening. As the breeze started to blow,I would hope birds would want to visit and dry off. Listing hard,I've picked some gobbling far off. Nothing crazy, and very sporadic. My first series of calls didn't come out to about 7am, No takers. Patiently I sat silent for a long while,listening hard for that silent Tom to show. That didn't happen.
9:30... Still silence,I have to make a move. Doubling back I believed was my best option. Walking slow and listening hard again only for a couple of hundred yards. Putting out some aggressive cuts and yelps a bird responds. Not bad I say to myself. I walk back up and off the logging trail and sit against a nice wide oak. So now I'm settled in for a good 5 minutes. Giving it to him again, Grrrrroobbbbllllle! Most likely in the same spot,he never moved. So waiting patiently I give it to him again. He's definitely closed the distance somewhat. Problem... (Good problem) 3 other Toms are gobbling in completely all different directions and coming hard. It was a race to see who would get there first. Giving it to them all now,I'm cutting and yelping hard. There cranked up,and so am I! A soft seductive yelp followed with some clucks and purrs. Grrrrooooobbbble! If I were to guess the closest bird was about 75 yards. Now I zip it with a little leaf scratch. My gun was up in the direction I thought he was coming from. Catching movement out the corner of my eye was his giant bolbus white head walking under an old tree stand. He was about to flank me on the left,where there was no shot. He's looking but he can't find his date. The last calls...Softer than soft feeding,clucks and purrs. He goes back to the Ol logging road,Grrrroooooobbbble! One more step he's behind a big Ol oak. Before I make my swing,I make sure he doesn't peek back around the tree. We've all saw that a time or two. Two steps good, threes better. At 30 yards the bead was on the waddles. BOOOOM! A face full of five's layed the big Ol Tom down without a flap.
Thank You
Dedicated to Woodsy
Go Guns N' Hoses!
