When I was younger and a novice turkey hunter, I was on the top of a ridge that ran for many hundred yards. Birds had gobbled some on the roost, but got quiet on the ground. The power company had cut a small access road out the ridge so I thought I would nestle in the left side of it and call. I hadn't made half of my first series when I looked down the road to my left and here comes a big gobbler right down the middle of it - at a dead run like he had never had a hen. The road had a dip in it about 50 yards from where I sat and when he ran into the dip, he disappeared from my view, dropped out of the road and came running up behind my right shoulder at less than 10 yards. Worst place to try a shot possible. The top of the ridge was steep on both sides and all he would have needed to do was take two steps off either side and I would not have been able to see him. I am sure, if I had just given him a second, he would have moved to the road and maybe have given me a better opportunity, but I was so amazed that I had called in a turkey, and he was right THERE, and figuring I had better shoot before he "got away". I tried to swing and slap off a shot. Of course at that distance, my pattern was tennis ball size and he was moving so even if that nice pine tree I tore the whole side out of with my pattern hadn't been there, I would have probably missed any way. That has been over 25 years ago, but every time I am out that ridge, I still see that pine tree and remember that hunt.