By Phil Bourjaily
Since turkey seasons are winding down all over the country, it’s time to post up your season highlights. I’ve already run the picture of me and my one turkey of the spring but I hadn’t told the story of the very brief and satisfying hunt:
As is my routine during turkey season, I dropped my younger son at school and got to the public area I hunt a little after 7:00 a.m. I drove around drinking coffee until I saw a glinting black spot in a freshly burned field. Although the area is billiard table-flat, there were enough willows to use as cover for my approach so I parked the jeep, pulled on my stuff, and snuck to within 125 yards or so of the bird. I saw him look around the first time
I yelped. Second time, he popped in and out of strut, then turned and walked my way. I never made another call after that.
He gobbled once coming in, and when he got to what I thought was 40 yards and change, he veered off course. I could call more to straighten him out and bring him closer or I could shoot. I shot.