Davyalabama
WKR
- Joined
- Feb 23, 2023
- Messages
- 445
I'm way over 10,000 characters on this story. I typed it up, tried to post, now I have to do different parts. There isn't much need if no one is interested though. This is for young, novices, and older folks just needing to talk turkey a bit. Would you like a little taste?
This story starts at 2:45 in the morning, yep, long before most civilized folks have thought about waking up, but hey, this is normal time. Why 2:45 and not 3:00? Great question young man, 15 minutes to talk to God, 15 minutes to begin my day with Him. The diaphragm calls are pulled from the fridge, coffee pot is turned on, the clothes are put on, the coffee poured and in a cup and a thermos, the gun is grabbed, the vest put on, the bag grabbed, hat, boots, and out the door. Now, you say, what about checking for all the stuff you need, it is already there. You see, I leave what I need in my pants pockets, coat and vest and in my grab bag. It's there. My clothes are laid out in the garage when I come in each day/night, it's all there, primed. The drive out to the woods is quiet, except for the hum of the mud grips on the highway, sipping on coffee, praying to my Father in Heaven, this isn't just about killing a turkey, this is about enjoying time with what He created.
Some days I need my SXS to get me to a different part of the property we have, some days, I just walk. It depends on where I think the old gobbler is, if I don't already know. Today, I know, I make sure the charcoal is applied to my face, neck, ears, check it in the mirror----Yes, I use charcoal, no, not out of the bbq bag, art supplies charcoal. Derwent XL charcoal, Sepia or Mars Violet. I heard his big, powerful wings fly up last night. I know just about what tree he is roosting in this morning. You already know what I'm thinking, fresh fried turkey breast for lunch. I can smell it, I can watch it turn brown in the oil, the only question is.......French fries or a baked potato, maybe rice for the wife, she likes rice. Davy, don't mess up the gravy. My stomach growls so loud I think the turkeys will hear me.
Oh yeah, did I fail to mention, turkeys, plural. Dagnabit hens are there too, they might throw a wrench in my lunch. Now how many of us have experienced that scenario, a nice big gobbler and a harem of hens? So, I'm going to do what I was taught years ago, After it got a little daylight, you know that period just as it is turning from pitch black to iridescent? I started trying to run each hen out one by one, not the whole flock at once. Now you ask, why am I waiting for daylight, to make the gobbler think the hens are flying down. The gobbler may spend all day with his hens if he can, but, come evening, he "ain't" sleeping with hens, he is going to be 100-200 yards away. Now a young gobbler might, but an old one wants to be alone. So, that leaves me the opportunity to run his harem off. Like I mentioned, I did this quiet and efficiently. Those hens all flew, there was just me and this old turkey. The best thing about this morning trying the trick, none of those hens made that dreaded, puttt, puttt, puttt, puttt, sound, they just flew.
Goooooobbbbbbblllllleeeeeeee, there he is, the blood races, the heart pumps fast enough the doctor would put me in a bed and hook me up to all kinds of machines, the hair on the back of my neck stands up and tingles while dancing on my neck, my hand tightens on the old model 12, I need to take a deep breath and calm all this down. Alright, Davy, breath in, hold for 15 seconds, brea-----Gooooobbbbbbblllllleeeeee. My heart races.....Oh, you know the drill by now.
56 years of hearing that sound, it started when I was four (4) following my uncle into the woods. 56 years of this sound in the spring woods. 56 years, it never gets old, it never goes out of style. It's June, I want to hear it, come October through January deer hunting or duck hunting, I'm listening for it. February, in a ladder stand, I'm still listening for it. Yes, folks, that is the sound that excites me, baby come and light my fire. I've never heard the lion's roar across a Savannah, or the trumpet of a bull pachyderm, one day, maybe, but so far, this is the sound I look forward to the most.
Goooooooobbbbbbllllleeeeee, the shrill sound of a mature gobbler. I've got to snap out of this and get set up, quick. I know where he wants to go, I know who he wants to be with today, I'm set for him. Yes, I know this turkey, he and I have matched wits before. I know where he wants to go, and I am between him and that area. I've run his hens off, he's going to come looking for them in a few minutes. It's going to be me he finds. I know about which tree he is in, he is going to plop down just under the knoll, ease up it and I'm going to be home before the wife is up.
This story starts at 2:45 in the morning, yep, long before most civilized folks have thought about waking up, but hey, this is normal time. Why 2:45 and not 3:00? Great question young man, 15 minutes to talk to God, 15 minutes to begin my day with Him. The diaphragm calls are pulled from the fridge, coffee pot is turned on, the clothes are put on, the coffee poured and in a cup and a thermos, the gun is grabbed, the vest put on, the bag grabbed, hat, boots, and out the door. Now, you say, what about checking for all the stuff you need, it is already there. You see, I leave what I need in my pants pockets, coat and vest and in my grab bag. It's there. My clothes are laid out in the garage when I come in each day/night, it's all there, primed. The drive out to the woods is quiet, except for the hum of the mud grips on the highway, sipping on coffee, praying to my Father in Heaven, this isn't just about killing a turkey, this is about enjoying time with what He created.
Some days I need my SXS to get me to a different part of the property we have, some days, I just walk. It depends on where I think the old gobbler is, if I don't already know. Today, I know, I make sure the charcoal is applied to my face, neck, ears, check it in the mirror----Yes, I use charcoal, no, not out of the bbq bag, art supplies charcoal. Derwent XL charcoal, Sepia or Mars Violet. I heard his big, powerful wings fly up last night. I know just about what tree he is roosting in this morning. You already know what I'm thinking, fresh fried turkey breast for lunch. I can smell it, I can watch it turn brown in the oil, the only question is.......French fries or a baked potato, maybe rice for the wife, she likes rice. Davy, don't mess up the gravy. My stomach growls so loud I think the turkeys will hear me.
Oh yeah, did I fail to mention, turkeys, plural. Dagnabit hens are there too, they might throw a wrench in my lunch. Now how many of us have experienced that scenario, a nice big gobbler and a harem of hens? So, I'm going to do what I was taught years ago, After it got a little daylight, you know that period just as it is turning from pitch black to iridescent? I started trying to run each hen out one by one, not the whole flock at once. Now you ask, why am I waiting for daylight, to make the gobbler think the hens are flying down. The gobbler may spend all day with his hens if he can, but, come evening, he "ain't" sleeping with hens, he is going to be 100-200 yards away. Now a young gobbler might, but an old one wants to be alone. So, that leaves me the opportunity to run his harem off. Like I mentioned, I did this quiet and efficiently. Those hens all flew, there was just me and this old turkey. The best thing about this morning trying the trick, none of those hens made that dreaded, puttt, puttt, puttt, puttt, sound, they just flew.
Goooooobbbbbbblllllleeeeeeee, there he is, the blood races, the heart pumps fast enough the doctor would put me in a bed and hook me up to all kinds of machines, the hair on the back of my neck stands up and tingles while dancing on my neck, my hand tightens on the old model 12, I need to take a deep breath and calm all this down. Alright, Davy, breath in, hold for 15 seconds, brea-----Gooooobbbbbbblllllleeeeee. My heart races.....Oh, you know the drill by now.
56 years of hearing that sound, it started when I was four (4) following my uncle into the woods. 56 years of this sound in the spring woods. 56 years, it never gets old, it never goes out of style. It's June, I want to hear it, come October through January deer hunting or duck hunting, I'm listening for it. February, in a ladder stand, I'm still listening for it. Yes, folks, that is the sound that excites me, baby come and light my fire. I've never heard the lion's roar across a Savannah, or the trumpet of a bull pachyderm, one day, maybe, but so far, this is the sound I look forward to the most.
Goooooooobbbbbbllllleeeeee, the shrill sound of a mature gobbler. I've got to snap out of this and get set up, quick. I know where he wants to go, I know who he wants to be with today, I'm set for him. Yes, I know this turkey, he and I have matched wits before. I know where he wants to go, and I am between him and that area. I've run his hens off, he's going to come looking for them in a few minutes. It's going to be me he finds. I know about which tree he is in, he is going to plop down just under the knoll, ease up it and I'm going to be home before the wife is up.
