Saturday, May 31, 2008


Today was the last day of turkey season. I woke up at dawn to the crows. Artie was suppose to show up but didn't. So I told myself I would stay in bed unless I heard a gobble. Then, not a minute later, one sounded off. I got out of bed. Went out the front door and while I was watering the plants, I heard another gobble. To my dismay it was Carlito's tame birds across the road. Oh well. Now I was up. So I went out behind the cemetery. Nothing roost gobbled and nothing showed in the field. At 8 AM I drove to Montgomery to hunt with the old man. We drove his SUV up on the hill and I called and called with no response. Then I told him I was going to move farther up the hill. "If I get one going I'll come back for you." I said, swatting a mosquito. He nodded. I no sooner crested the hill and a big tom putted and flew away. FUCK! This is the problem when the toms get tight lipped. They can be right there and you'll never know it. When the rains hit at 11 AM we called it a day empty handed.
So lets recap the season. I shot three big birds with three shots- one of my best seasons ever. I know I'm one over the limit, but hell, there's years when I come up empty. You can't blame me for stretching the law a bit. I didn't have such good luck guiding. But I did get to hunt with the old man and he hasn't been in the woods in years. I shot an episode of Disposable TV and hunted with one model and a couple of friends. All in all it was a pretty good year. And at midnight tonight it's the opening day of Munk season.
For those city slickers not in the know. Munk season is the all time best of all hunting seasons combined. It runs from midnight on the June 1 to midnight on July 4. The weapon of choice is an air rifle but BB guns and even poison darts and pointy sticks are legal. There's no bag limit and very few rules. In fact outside of the season there are NO rules. You can hunt 24 hours a day, drunk or sober (opening evening is always drunk munk night)and traditionally you keep the tails as trophys. A 5 inch tail is considered Boone and Crocket caliber. I like to wear mine stapled to the brim of my hat. In these days of skyrocketing gas prices this is a sport you can do right in the backyard. LOOK! There's one under the swing set. And another by the wheelbarrow. OHMYGOD! Look at the tail on that one. So for those of you jonesing from turkey season's end. Don't despair. Start chirping . You can call 'em right in. Ought oh! Was that Chip or Dale? Excuse me while I load up before midnight.


Post a Comment

Subscribe to Post Comments [Atom]

<< Home