Dad, Frank, and Charlie: Turkey Trials (Part 5)

"What do you mean you didn't hear anything?" I asked, figuring Frank was just fooling with me. After all, I dropped him off in the midst of multiple birds.

"I didn't hear nuthin'," was his somber reply.

I began to roll around his not-so-subtle use of a double-negative in my head, hoping he was still playing with me. I quickly erased the thought though. We were, after all, in the Deep South so he might've already picked up on the local dialect. Secretly I was kinda glad he did because it sure sounded a whole lot better than "you's guys". Gotta love them New York boys.

I questioned him one last time to make sure I heard him one hundred percent correctly.

"Didn't hear a single bird all morning an’ all I saw were two dang squirrels." I could now hear the frustration in his response. It was either because me or the fact that he truly didn’t see anything.

Again, I was rolling his response around in my noggin and wondering how that could've come to be. I finally concluded the birds must have been a bit further off than I had figured. Knowing that Frank worked his entire life in the ear-splitting din of General Mills cereal factory, his hearing was probably just as shot as my dad's. Distant gobbles, therefore, may be a bit out of his hearing range. It was up to me to get him closer.

With that, we all sat back and relaxed for a bit. Bird killing was just going to have to wait.

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We milled about camp for a few hours, took a few shots to make sure our guns were patterned, and even chatted with Mr. Gardner for a bit. He assured us there were plenty of birds around. In fact, much like the deer, he was really hoping we would take a few of them out because it was becoming harder and harder for him to keep a garden. That immediately explained the barbed and chicken wire fortress-look of his small vegetable garden. It even came complete with a wire roof to dissuade aerial invaders. Hopefully we would take out a few of those feathered seed eaters.

We assured him we would do our best to help him out. Ironically, as we sat there chatting away, a good-size hen turkey sauntered by half-way between our camp and Mr. Gardner's house. Charlie's blind was looking better and better by the minute.

Surprisingly, instead of hunting that afternoon, Dad, Frank, and Charlie decided to head into town to try some down home cooking at one of Lynchburg's finest eateries, the "Iron Kettle". Keep in mind, Lynchburg is a small small town so the second finest eatery in town is a small sandwich shop called "Subway".

Though I was slightly disappointed they weren't hunting that afternoon, it gave me a chance to do some additional scouting and to move Frank's blind a little closer to where I had heard the birds roosted earlier that morning. Though I was fully equipped and licensed to hunt, I didn't take my gun. Believe it or not, whenever I have friends or family coming to visit, I rarely hunt prior to their visit. I try to save the opportunities for them. I would get an overwhelming feeling of guilt if I shot a turkey or a deer prior to my guest's arrival. Of course I draw the line when it comes to my oldest brother Bob who is "Joe competitor". I never feel the least bit of guilt taking game away from him. In fact, I kind of get a kick out of it. He gets so frustrated having his little brother constantly outdoing him. Ahh, it is one of life's littlest but greatest pleasures.

Up on the hardwood plateau it was a beautiful springtime setting. The mayapples were popping up all around, trilliums could be seen showing their brilliance, and every color could be found in the newly blossomed wildflowers. I came upon Frank's blind and admired its location. It truly was the perfect set-up with its vantage points and strategic location between roost and strutting fields. I debated but I just couldn't bring myself to move it, not after one day. I knew the birds were there, maybe tomorrow morning would be a better day and the birds would end up smack dab in front of him. For now, Frank's blind was staying put.

As the sun crept closer to the horizon, I decided to head back down towards camp. I didn't want my presence to dissuade the birds from roosting on the plateau. Both my dad and Frank had awesome locations. The birds were bound to be on top of them in the morning.

That evening, as I relaxed in my favorite green canvas chair outside the camper, I heard music to my ears. The gobblers were back on the plateau going to roost. There must have been at least a half dozen of them. All was well.

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Morning came much like the day before. My dad and Charlie were rattling the cupboards with their snoring but this time I would have to give the distinct advantage to my dad. He was actually moving the curtains with each inhale. This was pretty darn impressive given they were a good five feet away from him.

I made sure there were no loose articles of clothing close to him when I decided to shake him awake. I lost a napkin the day before when he snorted himself to consciousness. I didn't want to run the risk of losing one of my gloves or my facemask, they are much more valuable than a paper napkin. Fortunately, today's arousal went much smoother. It was still quite loud and exasperating but I had nailed everything down close to his head region. Everything appeared to be accounted for.

As soon as he was fully aware, I gave my dad the chore of waking Frank and Charlie. I then set about to prepare the morning coffee.

Once again, the three feasted on vitamins and pills of every color. Given the quantity they consumed, I was certain it was more filling than a grand slam breakfast at Denny's. Everything was right on schedule too. And we were even twenty minutes earlier than the day before. Today was shaping up to be a great day in the turkey woods.

Surprisingly, Charlie was the first to be ready. He grabbed all his gear and headed out before everyone else was even remotely close to heading out. Outside in the dark I could hear Charlie fire up his ATV, a moment later I could hear him hit the throttle as he headed out. A few seconds later, I heard him shut off the ATV. It was comforting to know he had made it to his blind safely.

After double and triple checking that they had everything, my dad and Frank were finally ready to go. We donned our head lamps and headed out the door. Things we looking good, we were still a full twenty minutes ahead of schedule. We fired up the ATVs and made sure everything was secure. Just then I realized I forgot my turkey seat. It is a little three-inch stool I use when I'm hunting on the ground and likely to be on the move. I ran back to the camper and grabbed it from under the bed. As I exited our temporary homestead, I turned my head and shined my head lamp on Charlie's now quiet blind.

"Good luck today Charlie." I said.

"Good luck to you too," he said.

I smiled and hopped back on my ATV. I then led the procession up the hill to the awaiting birds.

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This time Frank got to his blind well before first light and any hint of a morning gobble. Before we left I made sure he was all set and ready to go. He was. My main goal now was to do the same for my dad. Given that he buggered up two roosted gobblers the day before with "extra blind-hicular activity," I wasn't about to let him do that again.

When we got to his blind I helped him in and gave him specific instructions not to leave for any reason other than a distant mushroom cloud or a medical emergency. I then set out a gobbler and two hen decoys twenty yards in front of him. This time, however, I had no plans to join him in the blind. I was striking out on foot to figure out what these birds were doing.

I had barely gone fifty yards from my dad's blind when the first gobble rang out. It was halfway between my dad and Frank. And once again there were two, and they were hot and heavy on the roost.

Someone was going to kill a bird this morning.