OPENING DAY TURKEY REPORT

Phone message from Bird: Osti- Just wanted to remind you, dad wanted to be woken up today. Do what you can. Good luck tomorrow.

Phone message from Vic: Mike just heard you had a rough time after drinking my Baileys. I said just have ONE with me. I looked at the bottle. Greed can have a negative effect on a person. Try being a little more conservative next time.

Last night Shewho and I shacked up out at WSSP. I decided I would hunt the western part of the county opening day. She set her iphone for 5am. What I didn't know is she had set her clock radio for 4pm. At 4 am the beeping started. We had killed the better part of a bottle of vodka the night before, but I felt fine as I drug my ass out of her bed. Opening day is like Xmas morning to me. I made coffee, camoed up and drove up the hill. A bright 3/4 moon lit my way.

Before the sun had peeked over the ridge a bird sounded off. I don't know what the rich people were doing this morning but that gobbler made me feel like a million. I headed in the general direction of the bird and set up to call. 5 mins. in and I heard a shot. So much for that one. Within 20 minutes another tom gobbled in a different direction. I had him going and then.....another shot.....then two more shots. Damn! I hadn't seen a hunter, but they were obviously there. I hate Saturday openers. Everybody and their brother seemed to be in the woods. As the moon slid away and the sun crested the ridge all went quiet.

I moved to a different area and called and called. Nothing. Then I fell asleep against a big dead fall. I woke up getting eaten alive by mosquitos. It was hot and still. A little fox scurried through the woods. Then it stopped, curled up and took a nap about 100 yards away. I called some more but nothing answered. I decided to make my way back to the car and try another spot. As I was crossing the field I called again, this time just using my vocal cords. A bird answered. Not being confident enough to keep using my voice, I pulled out my slate call and scratched out some yelps. The bird immediately answered. He was hot.

Within the next heart pounding 20 minutes I called in a group of 5 mature toms, all gobbling and all searching for the hen (me). They strutted and hollered, but stayed just over the hill and out of range. I could see their tail fans but little else. I called softly, making them think the hen was moving off. It worked. One broke over the hill, neck outstretched, rattling the timber. I settled my sights on his head and squeezed the trigger. He went down in a heap as the other four came in to spur the flopping bird. Turkeys are brutal. If one goes down the others with often trounce him to claim the hen for themselves. I could've shot another but decided to save them for another day. I had until Memorial Day.

On my way back to Glen Wild a deer ran across the road, followed by a coyote right on her heels. I stopped the car and cut off another coyote who was in close pursuit. I reached for the 12 ga. in the back seat, but by the time I got a shell in the chamber he had turned and run. What a morning! If only I could've woken up dad for this one. I'll wager he'll hear about it.

At some point on Memorial Weekend I will be available for a Church of the Little Green Man guided hunt. Make your reservations early and check my facebook page for further details.