"Decision Time" is back! In this interactive feature, editor Brian Lovett will share a scenario from his 25-plus years of hunting turkeys. Each hinges on a critical decision. Post what choice you would have made, and then see how things actually turned out.Wrong Squared
Things were so good they were bad. And they were about to get better — and worse — any second.
I'd joined two buddies for the first weekend of Wisconsin's spring turkey season. Actually, spring was still just a fantasy, as it was 20-something, and 2 feet of snow still filled the woods. Likewise, I thought our chances of success that morning were nothing more than a dream, but one buddy assured me he'd roosted four hot-gobbling longbeards the previous night. Whatever. It beat cleaning up the lawn.
We waltzed into the small property, and my friend pointed past an open flat toward a point of timber about 120 yards away. "That's where they were," he said. Without giving it much thought, I told him and our other buddy to slip about 15 yards toward the roost tree and set up at the edge of the flat. I planned to stay back and float-call.
As night receded, a gobble pierced the frigid air. And then another. And another. And yet another. Sure enough, there were four gobblers in the tree, and we were in good position on them. I tree-called once or twice, sending the birds into a fury, and then waited until flydown. When the birds hit the ground, I yelped at them, and they came unglued, double- and triple-gobbling. Seconds later, it seemed as if they were coming. If the birds came to the flat, they'd be 25 yards away.
That's where the trouble started. The turkeys had flown down to the right of the tree and were walking up the ridge to the right of my buddies. However, my friends were set up on the same tree, and the guy on the right still had his gun pointed toward the roost tree. Even if my friend on the left wanted to shift to the right, he couldn't because our buddy was in the way.
Crap. The turkeys were coming fast, and they'd be there any minute. "To the right," I whispered. Nothing. "Right," I hissed, louder. Nada. They couldn't hear me. I could envision disaster unfolding, but I was 15 steps away and couldn't do much about it. Ideally, I would have crawled to my left, behind the shooters, float-calling as I went, giving the gobblers the impression that the hen was moving left. However, because the turkeys were approaching so quickly, that didn't seem like a good option. Another choice was to raise my voice and almost yell to my buddies to shift their guns right, but that also seemed risky. Or, I could just hope my friends realized their dilemma and got into position before the moment of truth.
Whatever transpired, I figured we'd have a chance to warm up very soon.What would you have done? Post your decision below.
Click here for Lovett's decision.