I will try to give a brief Readers Digest Version of my Turkey Hunting week.
In NJ Turkey hunting is sun up until 12 Noon, and Turkey hunting is by Lottery only for when and where you hope to hunt.
Day 1 Monday: Sitting in my pre scouted spot before 5:00 AM. Daybreak and the farmers roosters in the area started calling.
I hear 4 Tom's responding to every rooster call. This has been going on for some time. All of a sudden, I heard 3 shots all to my right across the dirt road trail. The only critters I’ve actually seen all this day were: 1 small lizard/skink, one tan color coyote, 2 whitetail deer, and ticks.
Oh, and this cheerful old man driving down a tight hiking trail. Squealing brush, limbs and branches dragging alongside of his old car. He then stops his car 30 yards in front of me. Honks his horn to get my attention. Then gives me a thumbs up. And then he shouts towards me out his car window, asking if I saw anything or had any luck yet!
I did see 4 pickup trucks leave the area of the 3 gun shots. Obviously, the friendly old guy above was one of the last to leave. So, I decided to investigate and check out the area they were at.
All I found were piles of corn. loads of deer and turkey tracks in the soil.
But No feathers, none! 3 shots from 6:00AM, 7:10Am, and 10:30AM. I searched looking everywhere but looks to me like no turkeys were even hit.
Day 2, Tuesday: Got settled in before 5:00 AM. To the area across the dirt road I originally heard all of the commotion on Monday morning.
Made a few simple come-hither calls on my turkey box call. It was not until 10:00AM I got frustrated and tried the "pissing off the hens" call, just whaling away going crazy on the box call.
I put the box call down, grab my shotgun, and looked around.
From the tree line, out pops one love sick Jake with a bright red head coming towards me across the field. Then out comes another horny young Jake looking for some quick double team action.
Before I settle in for my ambush. I usually mark off my field of fire, where anything within that marked area is meat in the pot. So, as I watch these two chuckle heads running towards me…
60, 50, 40 yards they are coming in slower now.... a little closer....
I raised my shotgun debating if I want a young Jake with short 2-inch beards or hold off for something better.
Immediately, both the jakes then stopped dead in their tracks, both looked to their right, lifted their heads to look at....
A wannabe cowboy, all hunched and slumped over in the saddle, snoozing. The horse had a big sag in its back and the cowboy’s boots were dangling just inches from dragging from the dirt road. The wannabe cowboy looked like he has been cooking Meth in his trailer all week without any sleep.
Of course the two-jakes played Houdini and vanished into the woods. Now, I am staring at this old burn out guy, debating to fire off a round to get the horse to buck. And toss this turd to the ground.
But, the horse just continued to slowly clip clop down the trail, the horse looked as it was way past its prime even for the glue factory.
A few minutes later to my left. I see an old battle harden Tom crossing the plowed field dragging his tail feathers as though he was too pooped to party any more.
This old Tom had a bare chest, very long beard dragging in the dirt, and looked all tuckered out.
The old tom was out of range, about 70 yards, but closing in.
I let loose a few "hey sexy, want to get laid" calls.
The old Tom looked up at me within 55 yards. Gave me the "Go away, my Viagra hasn't kicked in look", picked at some corn in the leftover piles, and decided to wander off in the opposite direction away from me. Towards the dirt road where I’m parked.
I played the "run & gun" and beat feet across the field looking to cut off the old Tom as he comes wandering from around the corner. Perfect ambush site. I immediately lay down on my stomach, across some downed logs, cock the hammer back, adrenalin pumping, and anxiously await his demise.
I was sitting there and wondering where this old Tom went since he did not follow the curve of the road. I quietly get up, tactfully peak around the road corner.
What do I see the old tom doing? The lazy SOB was literally right next to my truck, I could not take a shot unless I pepper my truck. I tried to anticipate his next move by trying to set up again for another ambush.
To my surprise the old Tom walked behind my truck and played a Houdini... Puff he was gone!
Day 3 Wednesday: Settled in before 5:00 AM. I liked the area, so I continued to stay put.
Settled in a nice spot, back against a cut stump. Just before sun up I hear a couple Tom's looking for love and they are very close.
I very gently and lowly yelped, purred, and clucked.
BAM, it Sounded like a freight train bursting through the bush. The Tom came down on me faster than Hillary on Huma in a cheap hotel room.
The Tom snuck up on me from behind, slammed into my right kidney hard, and vanished. I was busted. Sneaky SOB.
Everything happened so fast, my mind was two steps behind processing what just happened.
For the rest of the day, I seen a few box turtles enjoying the sunshine, walking in circles in the open field digging holes to lay eggs. And dragon flies chasing little bugs in a clouded mass.
I was all settled in calling and calling.... All of the Toms continue to respond to the damn farmers roosters’ crows. Not any of my hard and long practiced calls I learned from many, many tapes, causing many hours of anguish for my wife to listen too.
Now comes 10:00 AM. Last time a wannabe cowboy and glue factory specimen of a horse wandered by.
Today, oh yes, today was something very special for my hunting Jersey style.
Mind you, I am all nested into a pile of logs and pine branches, awaiting my ambush of an old Tom.
But, no such luck.
A car pulls up right in front of me in the middle of the field. Approximately 13 feet from me. The old man squints at me doing a double take and casually says to me. "I seen your truck today, and I thought you were hunting on the other side of the road".
Just as he finished the sentence. Another SUV pulls up.... between the first car and me. I literally had to move my feet or have them run over.
With their windows rolled down. The two men continue to talk with one another as I lay there blending like a bush.
The two old me were both deaf and were talking very loudly at each other.
Old guy in car #2 asking old guy in car #1 "what is wrong" and why is he "making strange faces at him? Huh? What are you trying to tell me?"
Old gut in Car #2 turns and looks at me sitting 3 feet from him as I begin to wave hello.
As I stood up, I believe old guy #2 needed a diaper change in that moment.
The two drove off.
I moved to another area.
Nothing, nada, everything quiet I left for home early.
Day 4, Thursday: Arrived bright and early once again.
I pulled in at 4:54 AM collecting and organizing my crap for the day.
I hear a car approach at a rapid pace from down the road. Headlights bouncing shinning up and down the trees in the darkness. The car wildly makes a hard left into the open field, began driving in circles with the high beams on. Lighting up every tree top surrounding the open field.
You guessed it. It was guy #2 from Wednesday 10:00 AM
He was setting up his pop up tent, and rubber turkeys from 5:00 AM until sun up.
I set up across the field from him, as not to be hit from senile friendly fire.
All I heard all morning was this old guy inside his hunting Blind talking to another deaf guy on his cell phone.
He eventually left the area at 10:00AM. Probably looking for someone else to bother for a change.
Old guy #2 leaves everything sitting in the field, and just drove off.
Come 11:00AM.... yes it gets better.
The State decides to plow the field, cut grass, and apply lime. Yep, the same exact field I am sitting on. A large Tractor and trailer pulls up and unloads heavy equipment. I just sat there watching and shaking my head in disbelief.
Yes, I got up, wrapped my head tightly in duct tape and the drove home.
Today Friday: Got to my spot early again. After a brief time, Nature calls. So, I leaned my Henry Single shot against the closest pine tree. Enjoying relief of old man’s syndrome.
It was just around sun up a hen walks out of a brush pile less than 20 inches away from me while I was taking a whizz on her happy home.
The startled hen jumped a few inches up in the air, like a cartoon the hen's legs shot out sideways, she then began cussing me out by clucking at me trying to figure out WTF I am. Reminded me of when a deer stomps his foot and snorts at you to get you to move.
She walked off and left me standing there with my D*ck in my hand.
Today summed up a great week of " Welcome to Hunting Adventures in Jersey".
Sometimes I ask myself, why don't I just stick to fishing. Oh, never mind.... that is another adventure.
Forum Board
