Texas Spring Turkey

This was like any Texas Saturday morning except it was a Tuesday. Getting up before dawn knowing I would work until late evening to make up time for this hunt added weight to my body as I dragged myself from the bed. For me to carry out my plans, I had to think that very few folks today would get up and do what they wanted and this is what I wanted. I had a new shotgun with a new place to use it and I had made a 'nono' only two days before as i was runnin' and gunnin' to get on a drove a turkeys and somersaulted a hen out of the air in the Spring only a few days into the season. I had committed the cardinal sin already so all that was out of the way. As I was exploring this property I had confidence that a gobbler was around, as I had seen one and heard what I believe were 4 different gobblers. It was a beautiful, balmy, humid morning after a couple days of rain.

After arriving and stepping out of the truck, I was bombarded by large mosquitoes - the kind that have landing lights. I sprayed repellent all over my hat, neckerchief, shirt and pants and made the unbearable mistake of leaving the can in the truck...which I regretted that later.

I found my gear, decoy, and shells and was off for a walk in the twilight where a band of mosquitoes escorted me the entire way and my glasses were continually fogged up from my body heat. I noticed a large boar hog walking within 70 yards from me and I noted he was lucky I was not carrying my rifle.

Finally, after becoming drenched in sweat, I came to the place I had last seen turkeys at the intersection of 2 roads and set my decoy in the ground. The air almost dripped of water and every bush I passed, brought its attached mosquitoes to a swarm around my head. By the time I sat down under the designated bush, the air was alive with a swarm of buzzing noises and my glasses were so fogged, I had to remove them. I knew the pests would find holes in my armor as I sat in the dark contemplating why men do what they do.

Dawn came slow with the cloud cover...and as doves, quail and other birds began their morning talk, I listened for the talk of my quest to no avail. I gave a slow, quiet yelp and strained to hear over the mosquitoes: nothing. Light began to shine on my sparse blind and I carefully moved the few limbs lying on the ground around me while slowly squashing the bloodsuckers and trying to detect any incoming turkeys...I yelped quietly again in the windless morning.

After what seemed an eternity, at the far end of the sendero, appeared to be small piglets running around the corner - exactly what I did not need around at this time. I raised my binocs and noticed they were 3 small poults. Slowly I raised the side-by, armed with its 2 3/4" number 4's. The left barrel on the Winchester pigeon model 23 was cocked to fire and I held this position as the gobbler came around the corner. He dwarfed his small harem of three hens and their poults, markedly red and blue about the head, his feathers much blacker than the hens and when he strutted, he was 3 times their size. No bird made a peep - not a yelp, gobble, cluck or putt...all was silent except for the mosquito mass which had grown quite considerably as it enjoyed the liquid from my arms, legs, and head. But I dared not move, as the 3 hens passed within 10 yards looking at me rather suspiciously - lucky for me they were young. The gobbler slowly came from behind as he was in full strut approaching my decoy oblivious to the rest of the world. At 15 yards, I squeezed the trigger and he fell backwards as they do when well-hit, legs kicking but dead in his tracks.

I looked at my watch - 8:15...time to go home and get to work for the day. It seemed too easy but I gratefully accept this gift as I know few trips end with a mature, 9/5" bearded gobbler.