Beware the Turkey Gods!

spectr17

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Beware the Turkey Gods!

I rounded the narrow mountain road, peeking over the edge every few yards, only to see someone was already stuck up ahead on the road. "Rats", was all I could think, I didn't want to spend good scouting time digging out all morning.  I hopped out to help and found the guy was only filling in the road washouts from the past winter's storms. I grabbed my shovel and pitched in to help. The hunter I'll call John, was on his way up to scout for the opening of turkey season just like myself. We started talking and John had been in the military also so we hit it off right away. His wife was decked out in the same cammies and it was good to see another woman joining the legions of mostly male hunters.



Soon John and I were scouting together and planning some hunts. He was newly afflicted, having discovered turkeys just the year before. John was eager and asked many questions so I tried to pass on most of what I knew about calling and setting up. He still had some work to do on the mouth call though, it brought to mind my struggles to get the sound just right many years ago as a kid. His sound sort of reminded me of the big male harbor seals along the coast when they get to feeling frisky. I tried not to giggle or make faces when he called although it killed me to keep a straight face.

Opening morning that year found us on the same mountain. John had located one of the roosts I knew about and had taken a fall tom there the year before which was no small fete. I had seen the gutpile and wondered who had lucked out since no one had fessed up to getting a bird that fall that I knew of. The Merriam's turkeys in the local area were a tough hunt, it was a long puff up the ridge to get to them, the late snows could really hamper walking and the pressure from hunters was pretty intense. There also wasn't a huge flock in the area, mostly a few here and a few there but it was a local hunt for many of us and most of us liked the challenge. John said he had snuck in on the roost and had called a tom over after they had pitched down to the ground and whacked him cleanly at 30 paces. Pretty impressive for a rookie I thought.

I had no luck on my side of the mountain that day and later met up with another buddy who said John had scored on a tom early. Since I had stayed up late on the mountain I would have to hear the tale later from John as he had already left when we returned to our secret parking spot. We both wondered how a rookie could come onto the ridge and kill 2 birds in less than a year, some of our group had never taken a bird yet it was that tough a hunt.

Anyhoo, I called John and listened to his tale of him and his wife's glorious sneak into the roost in the snow and how he setup between 2 toms and their hens. The hens had hit the ground first and John had to call 20 for minutes he said to get the toms into gun range. He wanted his wife to shoot her first tom but their positioning didn't allow here a clean shot so he took the first tom when he had the shot. He was going to mount the bird for his office and was all jazzed.

Right after the end of the season I happened to run into another buddy who had been guiding on the same mountain that same opening morning. Fact is, he had unknowingly set up in the dark on the other side of the same roost John had been on. What my buddy then told me just slap ruined my dinner. He said he had led a father and son in to get the kid's first bird. They had no more than settled in when suddenly in the dark, WHAM!! Someone had blasted the roost in the dark, way before legal shooting light. He said turkeys started raining down on them from the roost, it was the hens escaping the blast. As the squawking turkeys moved off they then heard someone whooping it up with the dead turkey, a man and woman's voice he said. I couldn't believe my ears, there could be only one person who did the shooting. But John had told me the grandest tale of his hunt, it JUST couldn't be true.

When I got home I called another buddy who was on the mountain with us that day. He had been above the roost and said yes, there was only one shot that day and it had come even before blue light that morning. He had never mentioned it before, he just figured it was some knucklehead roost shooter and since he didn't see anyone while hunting except John and his wife, he didn't have any idea who it was. Both buddies put the shot at almost  the same time so their stories jived. All I could think about was the kid and how my new buddy had ruined his hunt. What was I going to do when John called now?

I decided it was best not to return John's calls and not hunt with him anymore. Turning his slimy butt in crossed my mind but without anyone actually seeing him shoot the bird in the dark the case would be hopeless. A warden I knew agreed after I told him the story. I still couldn't believe how I had been deceived, how could someone sit there and look me in the eye and tell such wild lies? It all fell into place now. Anyone could get their bird if they shot the roosts on that mountain. No wonder our new rookie friend was batting .1000.

A few months passed without John and I talking when one night I came home from work to a frantic call on my answering machine from John about his spring turkey. "He got busted" was my first thought, then I started to wonder. Curiosity got the better of this cat so I picked up the phone and called John to see why his panties were so twisted. What I heard left me speechless.

Seemed John had taken the turkey in to get it mounted so he could place it in his office to gloat over. He had picked up the turkey mount from the taxidermists in a rush without really looking it over and had taken the mount to work. As the office workers gathered around the turkey and starting complimenting John on his hunting skills one of the girls let out a shriek and then ran off screaming something about  the bird moving by itself. Looking closer, John said the whole mount was crawling with bugs. Within 2 days the bird molted, every stinking feather fell off the mount and he now had a Mexican hairless turkey mount.

I could only look up toward the heavens and thank the Turkey Gods for restoring my faith in them.

Beware the Turkey Gods!
 

Gun Docc

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good one Jesse,

sounds like he got a little bit of what he deserved

Later,
 

Tinhorn

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Ha Ha,  yep, good one for the Gods:

When I went into the Army my huntin' buddy took an aquantance turkey hunting (first hunt together)  When they met back at the truck at noonish the guy admitted he shot a hen.  Needless to say, my buddy was livid and finally asked what he done with it.  "It was Hid" he said, so they went to get it later that evening......  It was a "Turkey Vulture"    ha ha,  When my friend told me about it when I was on leave, I said "You did let him eat it didn't you" ! ! ! !

too bad but he told him what it was

Shoot!

Tinhorn
 

Gray Ghost

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  Don't you just..."Love Happy Endings"!!!

  What Goes Around...Comes Around!!!

  GG
 

MBullism

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Justice delayed is... well, it's still justice.

M
 

PowDuck

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Wow, weird stuff there. Good euphamisms, too (sp?)
Your sins will find you out.
 

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