In with a bang, out with a bang...........
Well, I reckon I couldn’t have choreographed 2007’s Spring season any better if I tried. In with a bang and out with a bang, pretty much like the Spring of ’06 with Will taking a bird on the last weekend.
Sure have missed the boy, what with him being 15 and all growed up. His mind can’t ‘scape the girls, guitars, and malls long ‘nuff to hit the woods and water with me anymore. Even the temptin’ of bream on the bed didn’t work ‘nuff to pry himself from baseball. Although, I think he’d missed it, ‘specially when I told him the Good Lord sent me another tom from the Holy Lands, same as Moses came for him last year.
Been a grand year for action. Hot, spittin’, struttin’, drummin’ and down yer throat gobblin’ action on all six birds I’d called to the gun, prior to this weekend. Had two tip over, two I flat out missed, and two just plain walked right past me at less than ten yards, only to get outta gun range and belt me with the fiercest of gobblin’. Love that stuff.
With a trip to the north country during the last part of Georgia’s season ahead, Cinco de Mayo celebration would be my last weekend at chasin’ these southern turkeebirds. Love the 5th of May, not necessarily because of the Mexican holiday. Just seems like a good day for turkeebird tipping. In twenty one years, the 5th of May has been real good to me. Used to be the last day of Georgia’s season until some cruel sick twisted guv’ment soul decided we actually needed 10 more days of sleep depravation, sore feet, tired legs, and humility lessons from a bird with a peanut sized brain. With this bird of ’07, that makes six birds that have given their life for me on May 5th, most of any of the 55 some odd days I can hunt most years.
Ol’ Abraham came to the gun silent but with the tallest stretched out neck a turkey shooter could ask. I ‘spect I wouldn’t have missed half the birds I’ve missed if they’d all walk that tall. Right thru the Holy Lands in search of the feedin’ hen clucks provided so realistically by a little trumpet tootin’ on Newmoon’s convertible and more of the same with Jackie Strickland’s long box, came this what seemed sacrificial lamb to the alter.
One shot thru a small openin’ in the scrub oaks and the boy turned the nicest back flip ya could ever hope to see. Dead Bird rodeo time and dang if I didn’t get got again. Yoo-hoo, don’t I love to wrestle those twirly bird helicopters, as my good bud Jackie calls the act of danger.
He died proud at 17.12 lbs, 10 inch paintbrush, 1 inch spurs.
Best part is I’ve left more monarchs than I’ve taken. Saw ol’ Lucky Lucky as I parted last eve, year three for our encounters with him being the winner again. Met ol’ Yardbird, boss of Leatherwood creek, a old public land turkey that likes to roost directly behind this secluded house surrounded by National Forest land. He thinks he’s safe peckin’ grass dang near right under their porch but he don’t know that I’ll wade water ta git under him some morn. Then their’s the Boss of the Blowdowns, fergit his monicker but maybe I’ll remember come next spring.
Left some grand memories in these Georgia woods, made a new friend in Kelly Rose of Mountain Man calls, bonded blood brother’s I’d ‘spect even though we didn’t spill Woodrow’s blood in Kaintuck this year. Shared the woods with another brother in Jackie Strickland and now I’m headin’ to the north country to chase fat turkeebirds with my good buds Dave, Dad, Bread and his better half. Gonna be shinin’ times, no doubt.

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Last edited by redbeard; 05-07-2007 at 08:41 AM.
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