Show this man a hardwood ridge, and he'll show you a stage where he can put his contest-calling routine on display. Whether a turkey gobbles or not, the Performer will let loose with yelps, cutts, or fighting purrs. He arranges his instruments before him in the predawn like a surgeon preparing for a transplant. Pots and strikers and box calls will be laid out alongside chalk, grit stone, and sandpaper. mouth calls are likewise carefully organized: a ghost cut for tree yelps, and shipwrecks for raspy, suggestive talk. For emergencies, he brings along a custom-built scratch box. Throughout the morning, he'll cycle from one call to the next until he finds the day's magic sound.