In "Decision Time," Editor Brian Lovett will share 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
. Infinity and Beyond
Faith is a wonderful thing, but blind faith is a hard sell -- especially in the turkey woods.
Several years ago, I joined friends Jerry and Curt in west-central Missouri. Jerry knew where some birds usually roosted, so he promised to get us in tight the first morning. At dark-thirty, he pulled his truck off the gravel path, slowly guided it across an old pasture and gently parked it near an oak-studded ridge. Then, we slipped out, walked to a field edge and waited for the first gobble.
Five minutes later, a longbeard roosted along the timbered ridge broke the silence, pounding out an ear-splitting greeting -- 70 yards from us but just 50 yards from where we'd parked the truck!
Soon, other gobblers and numerous hens chimed in, and everything seemed to be OK. Figuring we had nothing to lose, Jerry and I got aggressive, trying to sound like the first hot hen on the ground. That continued for about 10 minutes, until the birds pitched out directly away from us.
I?yelped. Nothing. Jerry yelped. Zip. I cutt. Nada.
Dang it. I wanted to get after the birds, but I didn't know the land well and had no clue where the turkeys were. We could stumble down the ridge and hope to locate the birds before they saw us, but that seemed like a bump-booger-and-spook proposition. Or, we could sit tight and hope against hope that something good would happen.
I didn't like either option. Where were the turkeys? What would you have done?
Post your decision below. Click here for Lovett's decision.
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