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.
Grand Slum
When you ponder a single-season grand slam, your mind typically imagines the scenic wild areas at which you’ll chase each subspecies: dense cypress swamps, Midwestern woodlands, dry mesquite flats and broad mountain vistas.
Or a run-down subdivision.
Yep, that’s how my single-season slam quest started many years ago. Some guys I’d met at the NWTF Convention convinced me to try their Osceola hotspot, and I’d agreed. Turns out the hotspot was a 6-acre central Florida woodlot that connected to a wildlife refuge surrounded by the dumpy subdivision. If you looked behind your set-up tree, you could see the guy’s back door, and if you listened closely, you could hear someone’s stereo blaring Bon Jovi. (I’d expected Skynyrd in Florida, but whatever.)
We struck out at the “hotspot” in the morning, and I began to suspect that my host knew very little about turkey hunting. Then he took us to a golf course he claimed to have permission to hunt, and I confirmed my fears. Thankfully, we struck out there, but my “guide” wanted to return to his tiny honey hole for the afternoon.
“They love to drift in and out of there,” he said. “It doesn’t look like much, but it always produces.”
I wasn’t convinced. I knew I didn’t want to visit the golf course again, but I figured some nearby public wildlife areas might hold more promise than the subdivision gar-hole. Did I put some faith in my host or put my foot down and strike out on my own?
What would you have done? Post your decision below.
Click here for Lovett's decision.
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