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, and then see how things actually turned out.
It's That Same Old Song Again (I Hate It 'Cause It's True)
Fresh off a spectacular schooling from an extremely uncooperative Minnesota longbeard, buddy Scott Bestul and I set out to locate a red-hot customer. Instead, we drove right up to a gobbler by the base of a large bluff.
“There he goes,” Scott said, as we watched the bird body-rock up a logging road toward a flat of open timber. “Let’s wait a few minutes until he settles down, and then slip around this point and ease up to him.”
And we did. In fact, I actually got set up about 65 yards from the bird and made him gobble a couple of times. Then a bunch of jakes ran in and tore the place up, leaving only silence in their wake.
I yelped. Zip. I cutt. Nada. I purred aggressively. Silence.
“Dang it, they ran him off,” I thought.
So I slipped to the top of the rise for a peek — just in time to see the gobbler bust me and run farther up the logging road toward a large finger ridge.
“Argh!” I thought. “Now we’ve bumped him twice.”
Ordinarily, I would have forgotten about that turkey for the day. However, it was about 3 p.m., and he was the only game in town, so I decided to stick with him. I could slip to the finger ridge and cold-call for a couple of hours, hoping that bird or another started gobbling. Or, I might try an end around the point of the ridge, hoping to get fairly tight with the gobbler.
For once, I had plenty of time to think about it, but that didn’t seem to help.
What would you have done? Post your decision below.
Click here for Lovett's decision.
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