I had no intention of hunting this past Saturday morning, but something rousted me out of bed.
"I need to know what they do," I thought. So off I went.
"They" were two gobblers I'd twice had at 60 steps that week. And after looking over the area Friday evening, I saw exactly what they'd done. The birds had flown into a hayfield, walked south along the edge, and then entered the woods via an old logging road near a wood pile. I'd struck them from farther south and then watched them skirt past me in the timber.
"All I need to do is get by the old road, and they'll walk right down my gun barrel," I thought.
After flydown, things were looking good. The birds got into the field and headed toward me. Within minutes, a hen and jake were 20-some steps away. The longbeards would be there any minute.
Or not. I glanced to my left and saw the gobblers chasing a hen 100 steps out in the field. Then, the birds started to drift left. They were going around me.
Actually, they walked right past my setup from the previous day. I fell in behind them, but as you know, that's never a good play. It didn't work that day, either. They'd dodged me again.
"Well, that's it," I thought as I walked back to my truck. "Another spring in the books."
I silently wished those turkeys hadn't been so difficult and unpredictable. But then I quickly reminded myself about the nature of the bird. There could be no other way.
With luck, I'd be treated to more of that maddening, unpredictable behavior in fall and next spring.