Thing is, I wish we'd have heard or seen some turkeys. Beautiful woods, sure, but it was deathly quiet that morning, and we couldn't get anything going. Finally, we just gave up and went home.
I'm not sure what the deal was. Maybe we just couldn't get close to any. Could we have spooked them on the limb? I suppose. And it was bad weather. That must be it. Rain and wind will shut them up like nothing else. Ah, whatever it was, the day was just unmemorable.
Editor's note: This is the T&TH medical staff. Regretfully, we must inform readers that Mr. Lovett is suffering from a combination of sleep deprivation and post-traumatic stress disorder, which has caused temporary amnesia and severe delusions. A source close to Saturday's events has informed us that Mr. Lovett and Mr. Ticklishtompro were within spitting distance of a pepper-hot gobbler that morning. The source further informs us the longbeard gobbled more than 100 times on the limb, continued gobbling well on the ground and strutted his way to within 40 yards, putting on a show worthy of any television program. The source then said that Mr. Lovett deftly flowed his gun with the gobbler and, at the opportune moment, centered 2 ounces of Hevi-13 shot directly in a small maple tree, sending the turkey running and flying somewhere ... probably over Lake Michigan. And, according to the source, Mr. Ticklishtompro recorded these sad events on video, which he might be willing to sell for the right price. Because of the sensitive nature of Mr. Lovett's illness, we have decided to let him continue believing that Saturday was just another uneventful day in the woods. At some point, his feeble brain will right itself, and Mr. Lovett will come to the horrific realization that he probably screwed up the best hunt of spring. Until that time, please bear with Mr. Lovett's hallucinations.
At any rate, Randy said we can go again next year. I'll probably take him up on it. Hey, what's the worst that could happen?