In "Decision Time," Editor Brian Lovett shares a scenario from his 20-plus years hunting turkeys. Each hinges on a critical decision. Post what choice you would have made, then see how things actually turned out.
Conclusion: Showdown at Rio Ridge
We had two hours left to hunt before a rental car would whisk us to the airport and out of Texas for another year, so maybe I got impatient. Or, perhaps I was just sick of being jerked around by turkeys that gobbled nonstop but never committed.
Either way, I threw caution to the wind and motioned for my buddy to follow me. We ditched the setup, crept to a small grove of trees near the field and peered over the rise toward the edge of the creek bed.
"I see one, two, three ... no, seven or eight turkeys," I said. "They're heading south into the open stuff, but they're still right by the edge of the timber. Let's duck in the woods and get after them."
We eased backward, ducked low and slipped through the cover. There was a small opening between the grove of trees and the main timber above the creek bed, but I figured with the terrain on our side, we could shoot through it and stay safe. Just to make sure, I yelped, and two birds responded, albeit farther out in the field.
"Shoot, they're getting away on us," I said. "Let's go."
And we did, zipping through the opening and almost running into the cover of the woods. With timber and terrain now in our favor, it seemed the odds were tilting our way.
"All right, let's check 'em," I said.
I yelped. Nothing.
I cutt. Zip.
My heart sank. Had we bumped them? The answer seemed clear.
And friends, that realization of stinging failure is an unwelcome companion -- in Texas or anywhere else turkeys gobble.
What decision did you make?
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