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Preface
I want everyone who reads this to know that there are
no false statements or concepts in it. Any or all of it
may be exaggerated or colored though, for the purpose of
bringing out the humor that I felt while thinking about
it and deciding to write it.
MY FIRST TURKEY HUNT
YOU CAN DO EVERYTHING WRONG AND SCORE
ANYWAY
It all started when I turned 50 and my wife bought me
a deer rifle for my birthday. I had not hunted since I
was young, and all of my brothers-in-law, were good deer
hunters and I thought I might like to go along sometime.
I didn’t feel like I’d want to just go and watch.
Anyway, this began a sequence of events that I can’t
seem to break out of, and that my wife is not extremely
satisfied with. A recent comment went something like, --
"I didn’t think hunting would take you over. I
thought you might go up for a day, or a weekend, but now
it’s a week for deer, and several days for turkeys,
what’s next? Well on with the saga.
THE SEED GOT PLANTED
Along about mid January, my brother-in-law, Earl
mentioned that he was considering the spring turkey
hunt. After a short discussion, we decided to apply for
licenses. After all, there was no guarantee that we’d
get them, so it wasn’t like we’d already decided
without consulting our wives or anything. Next came some
reading, and some contemplating of how one hunts turkeys
etc.
COMMUNICATION IS GOOD
RIGHT?
Wives are often known to make comments concerning the
reluctance of the husbands to communicate. I believe in
communication and quantity seems to be one of the
criteria for good communications. I also was quite sure
that opening the subject of additional hunting would,
indeed, promote a quantity of communication between my
wife and myself. I would have thought that bringing it
up as a topic I was highly interested in, would be a
good thing. Since my wife and I never set out to say
derogatory things about each other, and because I could
certainly have handled myself more gallantly, I won’t
get into any real detail about the multitude of
conversations which followed concerning turkey hunting.
Suffice it to say that I do not understand everything I
know about marital communications.
PREPARATIONS
Now its time to get ready. Earl and I discussed the
fact that we don’t own shotguns and think hunting with
our 22’s is probably going to be ok. Nope, it’s
illegal to use anything larger than #4 shot to kill a
turkey. Ok, Earl found a nice Mossberg shotgun with a
second (fully rifled) barrel which is drilled and tapped
for scope. Excellent! A perfect weapon. Turkey gun and
lower tier deer gun all in one. I checked it out on the
internet. Wow, $450.00 on sale, great price. He isn’t
sure he is ready to pay that much. I don’t blame him.
I’m waiting for an increase at work so I can tell how
much I can spend. (More spousal communications. Keep in
mind that all of this communications is not necessarily
negative. Just sort of forced upon us.) I think to
myself, then share with my wife, "I can get an
inexpensive shotgun and put the money back into my
account later. The increase will be retro-active when it
finally comes through so that will work." (More
spousal communications). Earl calls and says he got a
bonus at work, and its exactly the missing amount
between what he has and the cost of the Mossberg. I get
depressed. Meanwhile I get a tape by Knight & Hale
on spring turkey hunting. I watch the tape. I notice
that these guys get really big turkeys all the time and
that they are always covered head to toe in camouflage.
I also notice that they have some sophisticated calling
devices. I order some of each from the internet. (More
spousal communications) I find a shotgun in Wal-Mart and
it’s a Marlin and costs just $79.00. Two days later, I
decide that due to some discoloration in the breech of
the Marlin shotgun, it must be one of a kind, and
therefore I should be able to get it at an even greater
discount. I grab my wife and head to the store. When I
get there, and discuss the situation with the store
manager, I find that I can’t save any more money, and
I decide to buy the display model anyway. When I fill
out the application form, I misread the question about
military discharge and answer that I did get a
dishonorable one. The manager turns down the app. I beg
to know what is wrong and she just hands it back and
asks "are these the answers you wanted to put on
this application?" I found the error and she was
kind enough to void that one and let me fill out
another. I pick up some ammo and a cleaning kit while I’m
there. The clerk goes into the back room and gets a
brand new, discolored, shotgun in the box and brings it
out. I blush. I buy it. We leave Wal-Mart (More spousal
communications)
THE HUNTING TRIP
Earl and I decided after normal conversations with
our wives that we would leave for the deer camp after
church. We both felt that as soon after church as
possible would be appropriate due to unforeseen possible
maintenance at camp.
Deer camp is an affectionate name assigned to a beat
up old barn and silo on the family’s private land.
Inside the barn (un-removeable and non self contained) is
an old pickup camper that was once the whole, and at the
time, most modern living space. It had a pail with a
toilet seat, which was sometimes inside and sometimes
outside. Now it is still useable, mostly as a bunk
house, but has been augmented by a self contained travel
trailer, also old. The new quarters have heat, running
water, running HOT water, flush toilet, shower, and a
full service kitchen. All of which are real old but did
not exist in the former facilities. The trailer belongs
to the hunters, collectively, and they know who they
are, and it has become obvious that they are not highly
skilled winterizers. It has set unused twice since
placed there and both times the water system has leaked
when pressured backed up.
This time it was Earl and myself on site, and the
pressure up sequence seemed to go well until I noticed a
puddle growing in the bathroom. I could see that it was
coming out of the base of the toilet. Now it is
appropriate at this point to mention that I weigh in
excess of 300 lbs. It is also true that I do not bend. I
mean, I do bend but not too tightly and when bent a bit
tightly, I don’t unbend. By default, Earl began to
disassemble the toilet. This is not a nice task when all
is well. All was not well. We had no tools to speak of.
We needed parts. We, (Earl) got very tired and very
stiff. We drove down the road to borrow tools, and found
no one home. This was a relative, and a nice one at that
so we borrowed tools without asking. The tools were
sufficient but not speedy. Finally we drove to town and
bought parts. Actually we bought pieces and built parts.
What broke was the inlet valve that activates when you
step on the flush pedal. The only other function of the
flush pedal is to open the hole at the bottom so
whatever is in there will fall out. A spring loaded
valve for a non name brand camper would be hard to find
at 9:00 P.M. on Sunday, so we were going to be out of
luck. We both had a pained look on our faces while
discussing the fact that we might just leave everything
and finish fixing it tomorrow. Our visions of hunting
and of needing to use the prior toilet systems etc. led
us to the idea to replace the busted valve with a piece
of hose and a nozzle. This required several pipe parts
and several hose parts but worked like a champ. We
finally got back, had dinner, and (Earl) finished
putting the toilet back together. We tested it and gave
it a few wet runs. Those are really dry runs but with
water hoses it didn’t seem like the right phrase. All
worked as planned and we were ready for bed,
approximately 1:00 AM.
I neglected to mention that Earl had been a chaperone
at a youth rally the 2 previous nights and was really
bushed. He slept well. I had a severe head cold and it
was threatening to go into my lungs so I was out also.
Morning came at 6:00 AM and it was raining outside. I
apologized to Earl that I couldn’t go out in the cold
and wet in my condition and covered back up. He mumbled
something about teenagers and toilets and he covered
back up also.
THE HUNT
We finally got up at about 9: something, and ate some
bagels and got ready. We put on our warm clothing, our
camouflage hats, camouflage masks, camouflage gloves,
and camouflage jackets. I had spent 2.5 hours Saturday
night putting camouflage contact paper on my shotgun.
Even though it’s made for that, it’s really not easy
to apply. It came out wrinkled so I loosened it up and
tried again. The final result was that it came out
wrinkled. I still have the cold and still weigh 300 + so
on the way out, I began to wheeze, intermingled with
periodic sneezing, coughing, gasping, snorting, nose
blowing, choking, and wheezing again. By now we are
about 30 yards from the trailer. This continued for
about a half to ¾ of a mile. We would stop and the
throbbing red beacon of my face would glow a bit less,
and Earl would try the turkey call. I tried mine too but
it didn’t sound nearly as realistic so I let him do
most of the calling. Finally we got a response, and
moved to a woods location to set up and call some
turkeys in. Earl sat down by a tree. I folded myself up
into a little clump of trees and unfolded a portable
blind (because I can’t get my legs all the way down to
the ground and not pull a tendon or something) to hide
the fact that I didn’t have camouflage pants on. I
tried my call. Nothing. Earl tried his, and got a
response, but it was way to my right. I tried to turn my
body without turning my legs. HA. Anyway I got so I
could see straight to my right. Actually I was looking
west, and pointed south. Out of the corner of my eye,
the very corner only, I say 2 dark shapes that looked
like turkeys. I could also see Earl wagging a finger
feverishly toward them. Now you must understand, that in
order to shoot a turkey you have to be stock still or he
will see you and keep going. They kept going. Earl
called some more. I called some more. No response. It
was no easy task to look at Earl but finally I did and
there went that finger again, but this time he was
signaling to go around through the woods and head em off
at the pass. Away we went.
Huff puff, gasp, wheeze, snort, choke, blow cough
wheeze. Earl says huh?! And keeps going. Huff puff,
gasp, wheeze, snort, choke, blow cough wheeze . Huff
puff, gasp, wheeze, snort, choke, blow cough wheeze.
Earl says huh?! And looks around. Says " Am I going
too fast? I hold up my thumb and forefinger to indicate
a little and he slows down a little. Silly me, I always
try to be as little trouble as possible and should have
just grabbed him and dragged him to the ground. Huff
puff, gasp, wheeze, snort, choke, blow cough wheeze.
Earl says huh?! I say, the turkeys are walking faster
than we are, and going in a straight line. Earl says oh
yeah and slows down. Whew!!!!!
I had become more like me and less like a steam
engine by the time we got to our old double deer blind
and Earl suggested we sit down and rest a while. Did I
ever tell you that I love Earl sometimes? Anyway while
we were traveling I got rid of my mask, I shed the
gloves and the portable blind before leaving the first
stop. So here I am sitting with no camouflage on my face
or hands. Yes it is still on my gun. Earl honks a couple
times and gets a nice gobble in return. This happens one
or 2 more times and I notice, besides the fact that the
finger is again doing the mean waggle, that there is a
nice big tom at the end of the main shooting lane at my
end of the blind. I turn to square up on it. The tom
turns and walks calmly out of range. Now I notice that
there is a group of subordinate toms coming by that
same lane. Earl keeps calling, they keep coming. We are
talking to each other regularly now, Earl and I as well
as Earl and the turkeys. We notice that the birds, or at
least some of them have beards. They are about 30 yards
out now. BLAM!
Earl blasts one. Flop flop, flop, and the other birds
are running around but not running away. Earl and I are
talking right out loud now. "Do you see a beard on
that one? He’s looking right at me and I can’t
tell." "Yeah I think I see a beard."
"Are you sure?" "I think so. BLAM!
I blast one. Earl says, "that’s not the one I was
looking at". "Really, did it have a
beard?" "I don’t know I was looking at
another bird" "Great, I wonder if I shot an
illegal bird, Oh well we better go get em". When we
did get to the birds mine was a bit larger and had a bit
longer beard than Earls.
We started back to the barn, and a little way into
the field we got tired. The birds were still growing,
getting heavier as we went. We decided to stop. Earl
laid right down on his back in the field. I might have
too, but it would have taken a wrecker to get me back
up. We got concerned about whether or not our birds were
legal because I thought I remembered that the beards had
to be a certain length and we didn’t know what length
that was. When we got back to camp, we hung the birds in
the barn, jumped into the truck and went into town. We
got to town before noon, and found out that the turkeys
just needed beards of any length. We returned to the
deer camp and cleaned the birds. We spent the next day
and a half just wandering around the woods and enjoying
all of the wildlife.
By the way my bird weighed 11 pounds.
Earl’s would have to be less by default, since he didn’t
weigh his. My bird was weighed in by my wife, who just
grabbed it and jumped on the scales with it.
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