2006-2007 News Archives

      At my last report the season was winding down but I was planning a night at the cabin and a good hunt on Friday morning. The Friday morning hunt would close out my season as I had plans for a family trip to the beach for the weekend and I likely would not hunt the final day on Monday.
     My wife was out of town for the night and my little boy Alexander spent the night with my parents, so I rode over to the cabin for one more night’s stay before the heat of the late spring and summer set in. (We don’t have air-conditioning!) I enjoyed one last campfire and turned in pretty early for a good night’s sleep with the windows open and a nice breeze blowing through. I awoke to a beautiful Friday morning, cool and crisp, very unlike what the last week of turkey season usually brings.
      I met my father at our tractor shed just before day and we walked to the back of the property to the last gobbler that was still making some noise on a regular basis. We found him, hunted him, and were humbled by him again. After an hour or so I left my dad to continue his pursuit and I began the 15 minute walk back to the truck. It was Friday and I needed to get to work.   I was almost back to the truck when I heard him---the Vaughn Gobbler.
     I changed course and walked out into the pine plantation, set up, and offered some yelps his way. He liked what I said, but held his ground for about 15 minutes with intermittent gobbling. He then seemed to come a little closer, not quite in sight, and then got quiet for about 10 minutes. I was past “out of time” and knew I needed to move on.   Oh I would have loved to have not been in such a rush.
      I yelped once more. Nothing. Not a sound. Then, just before I moved a muscle to stand up, I saw him standing just 50 yards in front of me, looking my way, having just walked out of a cluster of thicker pines.
       For the next fifteen minutes he stood within a 3 foot area, looking hard for the hen, in and out of strut and without a gobble or a move forward. Occasionally he would peck the ground a few times, only to rise up quickly to peer through the timber for companionship.
       After what seemed like forever, he began to inch forward. I had determined a 35 yard mark and planned to shoot him when he reached that, if he ever would. Finally he walked a little more towards me and then a few steps to my right to the 35 yard mark. It was time to shoot and I steadied the bead on his head. As if on cue, the Weyerhaueser paper mill located a few miles away let off some steam. As the short four second blast of noise began it registered in my mind that he would gobble at the noise and this would be the time to shoot, as his neck was outstretched. I also had a side view of his head offering more space for the pellets to strike him in a vital spot.
      It all happened so fast. As I secured the bead of my barrel on his head here came the blast from the mill, the gobble, and the squeeze of my finger on the trigger. The gun roared and I raised up, ready to claim my 2^nd bird in two days and declare the finest end to a turkey season that a guy could ever want.
      The picture I saw was the turkey running off, in the other direction, with the appearance that he was suddenly late for an appointment of some sort. He ran for 5 yards, pitched in the air as I jumped to my feet in pursuit. Up into the trees he went and just like that was gone. I circled around and around through the woods hoping I would find him and end the misery of my second failed shot of the season. I found nothing. Without a lot of time to devote, I soon waived the white flag and left the woods.
      What happened? I’ll never know, but I do blame the new box of shells to some extent. They don’t shoot like the old ones. But they don’t shoot bad enough for turkeys to be escaping either. So I blame the shooter too. But I am sure that neither bird that escaped this season was missed. The shot simply failed to deliver a lethal blow.
       Between now and next season I’ll buy another few boxes of shells and there will be extensive testing. I’ll regain the confidence of myself and the old 870 and do better next season. I had a good run going, having not let a turkey get away in about 10 years. The good run had to end sometimes. But two for four for the season? Good grief, that’s awful.

       Overall it was a good season. We had some birds to hunt, ornery though they were. The weather remained cool for most of the season, much unlike the warm days of the 2006 season. I rarely needed my Thermacell or bug repellent. Some of that can be attributed to the dry weather which is certainly a concern. The land is awfully dry as we move toward summer. It could be another hot and dry one on tap.
       Thanks to all who submitted this photos and stories during the season. I hope I did not leave out anyone. See you in the fall. Have a good summer.

Ten year-old Ford Robinson, son of Hill Robinson, of Mobile
killed his first turkey on opening weekend near Livingston, AL

Hayden Olds writes: "Troy Tatum and I hunted a new location out of town this weekend and doubled up on a turkey Sunday morning. We spotted him in a field moving down a fence row, some hills allowed us to get into position along the fence some 200 yards ahead of him. Luck was on our side, as we moved into position we flushed a hen we never know was there. She flew out of the field and he evidently didn’t see her. Troy made a couple of soft yelps and 1 minute later the turkey closed the distance and stood atop a hill looking dead at us. A tree stood between Troy and the turkey but I had a clear 25 yd. shot directly down the fence row. The bird had 1-1/8” spurs and a 9 ¼” beard. I’d estimate he weighed 20 lbs."

Photo by Hayden Olds

Brian Jones, of Camden, writes, "Another successful trip to west Texas. I was able to get three good Rio Grande gobblers the biggest of which had 1 1/2 spurs, 10 inch beard and was well over 20 pounds, he currently resides at the taxidermist. All total our group killed ten gobblers. They gobbled better than last year but still were real call shy. They would answer every yelp with a gobble but would not come running to find the hen. The good thing about Texas is there is always another gobbling bird to set up on when the first one doesn't work out. My good friend Ben Nelson killed the biggest Rio I have ever seen It had nearly 1 3/4 spurs and weighed more than 24 pounds, a great trophy he will likely never better. I also had a great season here at home. I was able to limit out in the first ten days of the season. Three were two year old gobblers and two three year old gobblers, one of the two year old gobblers did have two beards. We had a good population of gobblers on our property this year and in all a total of 9 gobblers were taken on our property."

Harvey Crawford, of Camden, writes, "Third bird in hand, should be the fourth this season. This is the first bird I have ever taken in the afternoon. He answered at 1:00 and the "cannon" roared at 2:45. Long time to sit thinking any second you are going to be able to see him. He stayed in gun range for the last thirty minutes gobbling, strutting, drumming and spit'n behind the large oak I had for cover in front of me. He finally stepped out to my right at 13 steps and I let the led fly. Patience is a virtue, and to think that after the first thirty minutes I definitely wasn't going to get him and started to leave the limbhanger for another day."

Harvey Crawford writes, "It took SIX, 3 1/2" 12 gauge Winchester supreme turkey loads with a Remington extra super full choke all at 20 yards to finally point blank range to bring this beast down. I was walking a trail down the AL river bank when I met up with this hog. We both stopped dead in our tracks as we seemed to see each other about the same time. I was turkey hunting so I had to make a quick decision whether or not to shoot him and ruin my turkey hunt for the morning. The first shot was head on at 15-20 yards. It stunned him out of his mind for a few seconds then he made a bolt across the big field in the background towards the cypress swamp. Chasing him at full speed for at least a hundred yards across the big field while shooting from the hip the next three shots, all within 5-15 yards of him. I had to stop. I couldn't chase him anymore, I was out of breath as bad as I have ever been. I couldn't believe that he was still going like I hadn't even hit him once. I was close enough to see that all my shots had hit him each time with dust clouds coming off of his body each shot. Knowing that it was a tight pattern at that close and still not penetrating his hide I gave up chasing. I watched him make his way across the field into the little pines as I put my two extra shells in my gun. Very disappointed that I had lost my turkey hunt and the big hog too, I started my walk back to the truck when to my amazement here he was coming back towards the river where the first shot took place. Taking off running after him I knew that I had to make these shots count and that they would have to be extremely close. Bam, the fifth shot on the run from the hip and he just took it like a man. Not once did he ever squeal or fall down from any of the first five shots. That's what I'd call tough as nails. One shell left and "give out", still on the run I stuck the barrel out to point blank range behind his big ol' ear and pulled the trigger. He didn't just fall over, he took a nose dive and bit the dirt. Finished for sure he still managed to sling dirt on me as he spun in circles. No doubt about it, the most exciting hunt I have ever had. I can't imagine one any better.

Brian Deloney (L) guided John Howell to his first turkey
during the 2007 Wiregrass Invitational Turkey Rodeo.

Mark Coffman of Dothan killed these two birds near Brundidge, AL.

"Little" Ralph Martin of Camden writes, "This may sound dumb but I have a new technique that is 100 % this week. It is somewhat selfish but it works or it has both times this week that I have used it. First you need to invite somebody who drinks too much or needs to spend time around the house doing quality time or a hard working guy who never misses work or some nephew who can't find his car keys or any old individual who will come up with the silliest excuse not to go.. When you find this dude then go ahead and invite him immediately and then when he backs out make sure you go hunting yourself and yelp a few times and katy bar the door because here they come!"

John Coffman (R) shot this turkey before his brother,
Mark, could scare him off. The brothers were
hunting in southeast Alabama.

Dewayne, one of our regular readers from Louisiana, writes "This is a turkey I shot on 3/25/07 in Kisatchie National Forest. The spurs were 1 inch long I figure a 3 year old bird. He did not weigh but 16 lbs. The beard was 7.5 inches long. Don't ask me why I'm not smiling. I guess he wore me down."

Seven year-old Thomas Anderson of Chatom, Alabama, killed his first turkey this season at 12 steps with a 410 shotgun!

Eleven year-old Madison Anderson, of Chatom (brother of Thomas in picture above) killed his first turkey this season as well. The shot was made at 16 steps with a 16 gauge. After the shot the bird took the air and died in flight. He got hung in a tree and Madison's father, Stevie, had to cut down the tree with a chain saw to retrieve the gobbler!

Brad Powe (L) and "Little Ralph" Martin, both of Camden,
collected this double in Wilcox County, AL.

      The week started amid more great weather. Usually by this time of April the mosquitoes and gnats have gotten awfully thick, but not this year. The dry and cool weather has made turkey hunting very pleasant throughout the month of April.
      Monday morning I first tried the gobbler that I had tangled with late in the morning Sunday. I heard two late tree gobbles from him and decided to go try the Vaughn Gobbler on the way back to the truck. We've hunted this turkey off and on throughout the season. He rarely gobbles in the tree but often gets fired up later in the morning. He's the one that Mr. Joe (who hunts the adjacent property) heard gobbling 100 yards from my truck at 9am Saturday morning.
      As soon as I entered his area, I yelped and he answered about 100 yards away. I knew I must get to the edge of an old field, now in a 17 year old pine plantation. The woods were thick from the angle I approached and the bird gobbled again as I crawled forward. I fallen sweet gum tree prevented my crawl from reaching the preferred destination and I stopped about 20 yards shy of my preference. I sat down, behind a lot of cover, and pondered which way to crawl. Then it was too late. The bird gobbled again in front of me, in that pine plantation, and I saw him. He slowly made his way towards me, then began a counterclockwise circle of me. He was soon at 30 yards, but it was so thick I could only get glimpses of his movement.
      He came from a twelve o'clock position and was soon at a ten o'clock position in his circle around me. He passed through a slight opening and then went behind a thicker area as I followed his movement with the gun barrel. Five more yards and he would be in an opening, a nine o'clock position. I would cluck, he would raise his head and I would drop the hammer.
      That was the plan. But something happened. He never emerged from behind the thick area. I don't know where he went. He never made a sound and as far as I could tell did not retrace his steps. He apparently became wise to the situation and with the thick area of brush between us, he must have walked directly away, vanishing into the timber. I waited 10 minutes in an awkward, twisted position with my gun raised. I eventually gave a soft yelp. Silence. I lowered my gun and eventually retreated back to the truck. With a few days left to hunt him, I didn't want to press the issue. It was the third time this season I have had the safety off and have been attempting a shot at a gobbler at close range, through thick cover, and had the endeavor end in failure.

The bird first appeared in view in the center of this picture (bird not shown) and then began to circle me in a counterclockwise movement.

He was just 30 yards or less but I could not see him through the thick saplings and leaves in front of me.

Finally at the nine o'clock position I was about to get a shot, as soon as he appeared in the opening to the left of the picture. When he passed behind the cover in the middle of the picture he simply vanished.

Tuesday morning my neighbor Garrett and I did the same routine, but this time we started the day looking for the Vaughn Gobbler. Not hearing him at first light, we went in pursuit of another turkey we heard. Eventually realizing that bird was farther than we originally thought and that he was likely the bird in the back of the property that my father had gone to that morning, we wound our way through several hardwood drains trying to coax a gobble. We heard nothing.

       On Wednesday morning, alone, I listened from the northern most field of the property, next to our little cabin. I last heard the "Camp Gobbler" on Thursday morning when Garrett and I spooked the hen over him. I felt like he was still in the area. As the sun's rays peeked over the eastern horizon, I used my Palmer's Owl Hooter to fire up some nearby owls. Eventually the Camp Gobbler responded. He was roosted just off the northeastern corner of the field, about 100 yards west of the cabin.
       I was pretty sure he would fly down into the field and I set up accordingly, just inside the tree line. The woods there are young planted pines that offer no help in disguising one's silhouette. I clipped as many branches as I could from a nearby oak tree and make a quick blind around me.
        Daylight arrived and the bird had gobbled about 10 times on the roost. A light fog drifted across the field and for fifteen minutes he maintained his silence. At 6:15 I felt like he could be on the ground. I yelped. Nothing. I yelped again and he answered, still in the tree.
        I few minutes later he gobbled again, on the ground and in the corner of the field about 50 yards away, out of my view through the thick cover of the overhanging limbs of a oak tree in front of me.

Then here came a hen, along the edge of the field and she turned into the woods with me, now at 5 yards. She knew something was up and walked back out into the field but did not throw up all the alarms. I was tense, thinking she was about to call off the hunt and send everyone to the next county in three seconds flat.
Through the tree limbs and leaves I saw a gobbler head at 20 yards, looking all around for the source of the hen's concern. I could see part of his body but could not confirm a beard. For a moment I was not sure if that was the dominant gobbler, a jake, or another gobbler. Then the dominant gobbler came into view, though still through a lot of cover, in full strut.

As you can tell, I could not see them approach from my right. The thick limbs from the live oaks blocked my view. But the cover did hide me and allow me to get a close shot.

He walked a few steps closer, strutted back and forth, turned toward me and came to a half strut. With the bead of the gun right on his head I pulled trigger.
He dropped and barely flopped. The other two turkeys pitched over to the back corner of the field and I never got a good look at the other gobbler to confirm his status. I clucked and yelped a few times hoping to settle them down a bit and I then went to check on my bird.

He was as good as expected. He had 1¼" spurs, had a 10" beard, and weighed a light 15 lbs. I would guess he is a 4+ year old bird. I was mighty proud to get him. I spent fifteen minutes or more soaking up the beautiful morning and enjoying the success before I began the short walk back to the truck.
I did call to him and he did respond. But the key to success for this morning's hunt was being in the right place at the right time. So many of our birds live in areas where no pattern can be established. They are here, there, and everywhere. This morning was different and it worked in my favor.

I thought back to the Sunday morning before the season's opening. I spent the night at the cabin and awoke as day was breaking. Through the open windows I heard my first gobble of the spring. The bird that morning was roosted in the same trees as the Camp Gobbler was this morning and was likely the same bird.
I'll be spending Thursday night at the cabin again as the season winds to a close. Once this storm system passes through I plan to get in a late Thursday evening hunt and then after a night at the cabin, I hope to get a response from some of the other gobblers of the Swamp. The season isn't over just yet, but it is getting very close.

Forgive me for the lack of updates. It has been a busy week and a half and more. As the season begins to wind down I have felt the urge to get to the woods each morning. I arise at 4:15 each day and leave home around 4:45 . To the woods I go and then back home to change clothes, then to work. Usually between 5:30 and 6pm I get home and I am immediately attacked by my 2-year old little boy, Alexander. He’s ready to play with Daddy! We pick clover out of the yard and take to the neighbors’ house to feed their rabbits, dig in the dirt, and chase the cats around and around the house. Closer to dark we go inside for his bath. After watching a few cartoons and reading a book or two, Alexander goes to bed around 8:30 to 9pm . I’m exhausted at that point, knowing the alarm clock will go off again in about 7 hours. Days go by and the website update goes unposted. But alas, here’s another one…

    I returned to the woods Thursday before last after sleeping in on Wednesday. Garrett Gaston, my 12 year old neighbor would join me in the woods that morning. We heard three but none gobbled for very long. At this point our turkeys seemed to be gobbling a bit late, starting around 6am . We must leave the Swamp by 7:15 to get Garrett to school. Sometimes our walk or golf cart ride back to the truck is longer on some days than others, but regardless, the time to hunt was rather concise.
     We returned on Friday and located a different bird in the hardwoods of the property. We got on him, after a long walk, but then he headed off in the other direction on a small ridge between to shallow ponds. Had we had time, we could have looped around and possibly cornered him. We did not have the spare time, but felt good about our prospects on Monday should he stay in the same roosting location.
      Friday evening I traveled to Ozark , AL for the 7^th Annual Wiregrass Invitational Turkey Rodeo. About 20 of us turkey hunters would gather for a weekend of hunting the birds of the Wiregrass. We would split into ten 2-man teams and hunt Saturday morning and Sunday morning until lunch. Saturday afternoon is for cooking and socializing, though roosting of turkeys is not out of the question as well. The hunters hunt on properties through the southeast corner of the state. The central location of the event is held at Judd Lisenby’s camphouse (awfully nice to be called a “camphouse”) just north of Ozark.
      I was teamed with my friend and college roommate Mark Coffman. We would hunt his turkey lease on a 2,000 acre cattle farm near Brundidge. The property is, as expected, mostly pasture land interspersed with fingers of hardwood and pine timber. A weather system was on the way but we felt certain to get in a morning’s hunt before it arrived.

We arrived well before day and set up on the edge of a pasture where Mark had been seeing a gobbler. Daylight arrived and we heard nothing. Around 6am we heard two shots about 300 yards from us, on the edge of the property. We waited around for another 30 minutes and heard no gobbles, then headed toward the shots for any evidence of a bird being poached from the property. Sure enough, feathers were scattered across a small area on the edge of the property where some sort of turkey had been shot just a short time earlier. Was it the bird we were hunting? We’ll never know.

We walked around until mid-morning and saw nothing and could get no response from any gobbler. We eventually gave up and went in search of a sausage biscuit.
Later that afternoon we broke away from the socializing and returned to the property in hopes of locating a gobbler in a field. Our plan came together, finding two gobblers and two hens in a field. Not bothered by the truck they made their way off into the woods and we let them be, knowing they would be close by the next morning. We returned to the Lisenby camp.

       Around 6pm the much anticipated rain finally arrived. I had hoped it would pass through quickly and give us another opportunity to hunt the following morning. The exact sequence of events might be a bit out of order, but I believe the next hour happened about like this. At about 6:45 with it raining as hard as it could and the lightning getting worse, three of us stepped from under the shed we were gathered under and into the small bunkhouse. We had just heard of a tornado warning for the northern part of Dale County , which is where we were located. Ten minutes later the lights went out. As I stood looking out of the open door of the bunkroom, at the others standing under the shed, the rain, falling as heavy as it could and pounded relentlessly on the tin roof, suddenly was blowing sideways through the shed. The eighteen to twenty men under the shed dove for cover as the 20 foot pines surrounding the camp bent at nearly a 90 degree angle and the items such as trash cans and chairs under the shed flew out into the woods.
       Most of the guys dove into the bunkroom as we slammed the door shut. Several guys dove around the back of the building, the side shielded from the wind, under a metal sink. Three men dove into the nearby muddy ditch. It was a sudden and serious scare. You could have heard a pin drop inside the bunkroom, if not for the hammering of the rain on the tin roof.
       And in a moment, the wind subsided. Everyone scrambled out of the bunkroom and we rejoined the guys that took cover under the sink and in the ditch (those from the ditch were wet and a little muddy) and began to gather up many of the items that were previously under the shed, now scattered into the edge of the woods.
       Soon cell phone calls came in from friends in the area with news that a tornado had hit some homes in the area. The callers were making sure it hadn’t gotten us. At that point I was sure it must have come right over us. The Dale County Sheriff eventually made his way by the camp as he was working the area storm damage and we learned a little more. Lots of trees had been toppled and several homes had been damaged, some with the roofs were either gone or partially gone.
        Skipping forward in time to complete the storm story…..When I returned from the Sunday morning hunt Judd delivered the news that the storm had not blown over us but past us. It cut a 100 yard path across his 200 acre tract of land, toppling many trees and missing us by only 150 yards. The damage it left in its path left no doubt we were very lucky. We witnessed a clearly visible path for over 5 miles (that is just what I saw) as it crossed Highway 231 and then county road after county road. It left some area homeowner’s with a lot of damage.

The storm torn half the roof of this house just before it
crossed the Lisenby property and passed by us.

       The Sunday morning hunt was one I would like to forget. In the predawn darkness we crept to the edge of a stand of young pines, recently burned, where they border some larger timber on a gradual downward grade to a small stream. We surmised the birds were roosted in the larger timber and that they would head toward the field behind us when they pitched down. We split up, which can be very dangerous in the turkey woods and is something I would not normally recommend unless you and your partner are going to be a great distance apart. We were not, yet we were careful to know where the other would be sitting and know that shooting in that direction was off limits, even if that meant the bird would get past us.
       At about “gobbling time” I hooted. He gobbled in a tree just 50 yards away. I was pinned down and as it got lighter and lighter I knew I was exposed there in that burned area of ground but moving was too risky. I held my ground.
       He gobbled a few more times, then flew down to my right with a hen. I did not see the fly down nor did I hear it, but when the time arrived that I felt like he was on the ground, I gave my first yelp of the morning. He answered and was where I previously stated. In a moment the hen popped out of the big woods and into a fire lane and turned toward me, at 20 yards and moving closer. I then saw the gobbler’s head bobbing through the big timber. I was fearful that the hen would see me in the close proximity and wanted to take the first good shot I had at the gobbler. He hit a little opening, strutted back and forth and turned toward me, somewhat crouched. I fired.
      I looked up expecting to see a flopping bird as I have two to four times each season for 12 seasons or so without a glitch. But there was a big problem. The bird was running dead away from me. I shucked the pump and fired again as he was about 35 yards. That shot clipped a good many sweet gums trees. I jumped up and ran forward twenty five yards and began scrambling for the 3^rd shell that was in my vest pocket. I haven’t even needed the 2^nd shot in years and had just quit fully loading the gun each morning. Mistake. I ran to where I last saw him and as I was getting the 3^rd shell into the gun he flew up, trying to light in a huge pine. I heard what I though was him crashing back to the ground and he hit right before I had the shell in the chamber. I chambered the shell and wheeled around expecting him to be lying on the ground needing a final, finishing shot. He had vanished.
       What happened I simply do not know and can not explain. The bird was 25 yards away. I know one mistake was that I rushed the shot and should have requested an outstretched head rather than a ducked one. But for crying out loud, he was 25 yards away. I’m none too happy about the outcome. But such happens in the turkey woods from time to time. The objective is for it to be a very rare occurrence.

      Garrett overslept on Monday and I went by myself to the Swamp, meeting my father for the drive in along the gravel road and through the three gates. About a quarter mile before our property, a large oak was blown across the road, preventing our entry to the property. The hunt was over before it began.
       After work Monday we cleared the road with tractor and chainsaw. Garrett and I returned to our bird in the hardwoods of the Swamp Tuesday morning. We tipped into the woods well before day and set up on the ridge where we expected him to be. He wasn’t there. He had moved which required a move and we never got much response from him.
      Garrett had a late baseball game Tuesday night, so I hit the woods along on Wednesday morning. I returned to the bird in the back of the property but after getting little out of him I headed back to the truck. When I neared it, I yelped at 7:15am and got a nearby response. I settled into a stand of planted pines near our cabin and for the next hour and forty five minutes this gobbler put on a vocal display of great gobbling. But he would not come any closer. Instead, I edged closer and closer, bellycrawling through the pine straw to within 30 yards of him. There was enough cover he could not see me and I only got glimpses of his movement at times. A little final scratching the straw and purring lured him to about 25 yards though I had only one marginal shot that I did not take before he slipped back into the cover. At 9am a hard rain began to fall and he disappeared as I retreated and called it a morning.
      Thursday Garrett and I returned, setting up early in the pines where I had worked the bird the morning before. He was close, but flew down into a field and got with hens. He got quiet and we ran out of time. On Friday morning I heard nothing, but began to look forward to the weekend and sticking with the birds for an extended period of time.

      After hunting hard for three and a half days trying to get a gobbler kill on film, I stayed away from the woods for three days. I returned last Thursday in pursuit of the two birds we had tangled with for much of the NWTF hunt. I found them right back in the spot we first hunted them seven days prior.
       This time I approached from a different angle, circling to the south, setting up in an a logging ramp about 200 yards from their roost. When they hit the ground they sounded a long way off but after a few yelps from my slate I could tell they were coming my way. I was crouched down between two piles of debris along the edge of the logging ramp. A few minutes after sitting down I peeped over the debris and saw two heads moving my way. A few moments later, with gun raised, I eased up and they were right in front of me. My gun was pointed at the second bird and there was little time to swing to the left to shoot the lead bird and what I expected might be the dominant of the two that had handled the majority of the gobbling.
       From 25 yards I squeezed the trigger and the load of Winchester 6 shot hit the second gobbler like a freight train. He flopped a couple of times and lay still on the ground. The other gobbler ducked behind the debris and began walking the other way. I clucked a few times and he raised up and continued his slow retreat through the piney woods.

        Last week I asked for a dumb 2-year old and that is exactly what I scored. He had a 9" beard and weighed a light 14.8 pounds. Why they avoided us for three and half days as we pursued them with the camera, then came running as soon as the camera was gone I will never understand. They are camera shy I guess.
        Friday and Saturday morning my father and I fumbled through the pines trying to get close to a gobbler we heard gobble on the roost just a time or two before he flew down and just a few times on the ground. The woods are really full of leaves now and the distance to hear a gobbler has been cut drastically since the start of the season. Saturday morning's winds made the hunt difficult at best and by 8am it was all but impossible to hear in the woods.
        I celebrated Easter at home with the family and returned to the turkey woods on Monday morning, another cold day with a cloudy start. I heard one gobble.
        I returned on Tuesday, a beautiful morning that dawned clear and still at a crisp 44 degrees. I heard nothing but silence in the turkey woods.

       With the kill Thursday morning I was down to only one of my favorite turkey loads---Winchester Supreme XX magnum, 2 oz. of 6 shot in 3 inch shells. After many years of sticking with this excellent shell, I decided to give another brand a try. I bought a box of Federal, with 1 3/4 oz of 6 shot. Sunday afternoon I shot both the final Winchester shell and one of the new Federal shells at a range of 35 yards. I had printed out a turkey head target on an 8" x 11" sheet of paper. I was amazed at the results.
        The Federal shell did well enough to kill a turkey. It put 11 pellets in the turkey head and 89 pellets in the sheet of paper. But the Winchester shell put 19 pellets in the turkey head and 159 pellets in the sheet of paper. Local shops were closed on Sunday for Easter, but on my way to the woods Monday morning I stopped and bought another box of the Winchester's that have served me so well for so long.
       Every gun/choke/shotshell combination patterns differently, however, I have found the Winchester shells to do awfully well in a variety of guns that I have patterned over the years. I sure know it does well in mine and I'm sticking with what works. If you have never tried the Winchester's, I suggest you do.

Well, the results of the early Daylight Savings Time change are in. I've seen quite a few articles in the news in the last few days. Just as I expected, no energy was saved thanks to the early change. The additional daylight time after work just gave us more time for evening recreation and we burned more gas, while electricity consumption was about the same as the prior year. The big result locally was that many hunters missed out on a lot of turkey hunting before work. It sure cut into my time in the woods.
I'm heading to southeast of Alabama this weekend to turkey hunt with friends there. That area is slam full of turkeys and I'm looking forward to catching up with old friends and calling to some new birds as well. I'll leave my father in charge of the Horn Swamp's ornery birds. Maybe he'll have some luck. He already called one across the river earlier this season and he's looking for bird number two right now.

      Last Wednesday morning I heard 4 gobblers in the Swamp, in two different areas that I felt would be good for filming for the next four days. I felt good about the prospects of getting one or more kills on film.
      Chris Adams, our regional director of the NWTF, arrived in Camden Wednesday evening, as did "Little Richard," our cameraman. The cameraman originally scheduled to film the hunt was relieved of his duties by the NWTF the day before due to his actions during the filming of a hunt the prior week in Georgia. At the last minute, Little Richard, the 18-year old son of a free lance videographer, was summoned to Camden to accompany us. Richard had filmed some hunts this spring in Georgia and the NWTF liked his work.
        We got to the Swamp real early Thursday morning, a day that dawned in the lower 50s. The bird we went to had changed his roost location by about 300 yards, surprising us with a gobble not 50 yards from where we hooted before day. Thankfully some thick pines separated us, and we were able to circle around him and set up. He was roosted on the edge of a recently thinned young pine plantation which is very open and provides for long sight distances on the ground and in the tree.

I got us set up a little too far away, being overly cautious not to spook the bird. He flew down and apparently got with hens and disappeared after about 10 gobbles from the ground. We moved toward another gobbling bird and he too shut up before we reached his neck of the woods.
For the afternoon we returned to where the original bird was roosted the prior night, hoping he would return to this location. I cautioned the hunters that afternoon hunts in the Swamp are largely uneventful and most always unproductive. I rarely hear a gobble in the Swamp in the afternoon.

       We settled into our location for the evening about 4:45 and started a little yelping. We soon heard a gobble to the south, and then one from the north as well, both within 150 yards. The northern gobbler was behind us, so we turned around to face him as he got fired up and moved closer. He got close enough that we heard distant drumming.
       Then to the east another bird started gobbling and really started hammering away. I was amazed at what I was hearing. A bit later the southern gobbler came past us, along with a male friend of his, passing by about 40 yards. I might could have bushwhacked him but it would have provided for no footage on the camera and would not have met our objective. All the birds eventually went to roost, as did a number of hens in the area. We offered a few owl hoots before we left the woods and coaxed a few roost gobbles from yet another gobbler. For the afternoon we heard 4 different gobblers, from one to 40 gobbles each, and saw a 5th gobbler. It was the best afternoon hunt I've ever had in the Swamp.
       The following morning found us right back in the same location with one turkey beginning the day with gobbling. He flew down and quickly moved in the other direction despite our pleas otherwise. We moved toward him as he seemed to team up with another gobbler and they continued some rapid gobbling activity. They were moving so fast in the other direction that we never caught up with them before they became silent.
       Again, in the afternoon we returned to a nearby location in the thinned piney woods, built a blind and set up a few decoys. We soon heard a distant gobble and then another, closer, and then another yet closer. This bird was responding to our calls and appeared to be on his way. He soon stepped out in the road about 150 yards in front of us, looked around a little, and went back in the direction he came. Our decoys were not where he could have seen them approaching from that direction. I don't think he saw us, and it could have what he didn't see that caused his retreat. Regardless, he was gone and the prior afternoon's success was not repeated.
       Saturday morning arrived. I was to guide Barnett Serio, a participant in our local school's benefit hunt. The hunt had a total of 28 hunters that attended this year, including Winston Groom, author of Forrest Gump. Barnett and I have hunted together for a number of years, taking a few turkeys and missing a few through the years, but always having a high degree of success in hearing gobbling turkeys.
       The weather had really stagnated by Saturday morning. Though it dawned mostly clear and still, the temperature had risen to the 60s and it was very humid, not the weather that seems to fire up turkeys.

        The four of us---Chris, Richard, Barnett, and I---stood together on the eastern side of the property as dawn broke. We tried a little owl hooting and got no response from the resident gobblers. We eventually split up, with Chris and Richard taking a southern route through the property and Barnett and I taking a more northern trek.
        I felt like one of the gobblers would be in a particular hardwood bottom we would get to after a short sneak through the piney woods. The question existed if we could get any interest from him by calling to him. We set up around 7am and began some periodic yelping. At 8am we got a response, a distant gobble from about 200 yards. And then another and another as he got closer.
        The bird did not want to gobble much so I responded with occasional yelps and clucks, playing hard to get. It worked. He moved closer and closer until we could see him moving our way.
       Barnett's gun that he normally brings had a firing pin issue so he had an over and under in his possession for this hunt. He had bought a special turkey choke the week before and as we sat waiting on the gobbler, I asked Barnett if had had patterned the gun. He said no, he had not. I offered my gun but he said he felt his would do the job. I should have known better. I did know better, in fact, which makes the following turn of events so painful.
       The gobbler worked right in and walked right where I though he would, along the edge of a shallow ditch. Barnett and I sat together by the same pine tree behind the cover of a blind made of sweet gum saplings. I told him that when the bird was at about 25 yards I would cluck to stop him so Barnett could make the shot.
       I did as I said and Barnett shot. The bird wheeled around and took off running, putting as he went. I tried to get off a shot myself at what I thought was a wounded bird but no good shot presented itself as the bird ran over the little ridge and into the hardwood bottom. I pursued, getting a few glimpses of him as he eventually faded away into a pine plantation, still on foot.
      I returned to the scene. We were both amazed that the turkey seemed to escape unscathed. There were no feathers, nothing to indicate the bird was even wounded.
      We returned to the camp later that morning to pattern the gun. We found that it was shooting a foot high and 6 inches to the left at 25 yards. The pattern we shot was made while aiming at the base of the neck. When Barnett shot at the bird he was aiming at the bird's eyes, which put the pellets even higher than what showed during our target practice. I was assured that the only pellets that could have hit the turkey would have hit him in the head and the most likely outcome was that every one missed him entirely, sailing over his head. It was likely the blast that startling him and caused him to reel backwards in retreat.

This shot might have killed the bird, though the center of the pattern is high and left. However, with Barnett aiming at the eyes of the bird and not the X on the target, the shot all sailed high and left over the bird's head.

       The thought that the bird most likely escaped unscathed helped my feelings, though I was still highly perturbed at the turn of events. I know good and well not to shoot a gun/shell combination that hasn't been patterned. I should have demanded that Barnett shoot my gun. In the future I will refuse to allow anyone who hunts with me to use a gun that has not been patterned. This mistake will not be made again.
       This was the only bird we heard on Saturday morning. Chris and Richard heard nothing, too far away to even hear the bird we were hunting.
       Saturday afternoon J. B. Travis guided Barnett in the Swamp and Chris, Richard, and I set up in a different location. J. B. and Barnett had some hens roost near them but we saw and heard nothing.
       Barnett slept in on Sunday morning, as rain threatened and the weather continued to be warm and unstable. Chris, Richard, and I returned to the Swamp but the only bird we heard was across the property line to the north. We eventually set up in a clover field where we had seen 3 gobblers late on Saturday morning. We came up dry.

       So my attempt to make the Turkey Country TV show did not work out this year. Chris and Richard left Camden with a great appreciation for the difficulty of hunting the Swamp's gobblers, amazed at how wary they are of the yelp. We had a lot of fun through the three and half days and when you boil it all down, fun is really what we are hunting anyway.
      (Chris and Richard's next stop was in Monroe County, hunting with Mike Colquett. Both Chris and Mike killed birds on film on Monday and Tuesday. Those hunts should make a future episode of the show.)
       The school's benefit hunt saw less action and less gobbling this year than in past year's. It was a weird weather weekend and the birds simply did not gobble well throughout the area. Out of 28 hunters, there were two birds killed and three misses.
       The weather change coming later this week should put things back on track and greatly increase the gobbling activity. I'm looking forward to it.
        Some of you have asked about Spooky and the Dry Pond Gobbler. Spooky is the bird that for the past 3 seasons has developed a pattern, usually starting in early April, of sitting in the tree until 9am or later, gobbling. It is usually a mystery when he flies down. He has proven quite a challenge to kill. So far this year there has a been an occasional gobble from the few acres that he has called home the past few years, but his tell-tale signature of sitting on the limb deep into the morning has been absent. Is he still alive? I don't know. I'm hoping to answer that question as the season rolls along.
       The Dry Pond Gobbler simply got his name in the 2005 season due to the location where he spend the last few weeks of the season. I tried numerous times to kill him, but he would not come to the call. I have hunted a pair of birds in those same woods this season with the same results. I can't say it is the same bird.
      I can say for sure that again we seem to be void of dumb 2-year old birds. The gobblers that we do have seem to be highly educated and wary of the call.
      And Barnett and I simply added to one's education on Saturday morning.
      Thanks for the pictures of successful hunts that have been emailed to me. I'll save them all and post a big round of photos with the final, end of season update.

      We've witnessed good gobbling days and bad ones in the past week, though each day's weather has been nearly a carbon copy of the one before. You can't predict when a turkey is going to gobble and when he is not. Your only choice is to go to the woods each morning and find out for yourself.
      My closest encounter in the past few days with a gobbler (actually two) was on Saturday morning. About 8:30AM I walked to the edge of a hardwood bottom and yelped, before I left the cover of the adjacent pine plantation. A gobbler responded and I moved forward into the hardwoods and sat down. A few minutes I later I saw two gobblers through the timber, strutting back and forth at about 150 yards. I offered a few more yelps and they answered each one, then began to move my way at an angle, to my right. I soon saw that they were following two hens. I tried a little more coaxing to draw them my way but at their closest point they were about 75 yards when they passed by.
       Sunday evening I got a call from a friend. He heard a turkey gobble a hundred or more times that morning on his property and he wanted me to go and hunt the bird with him Monday morning. How could I say no? So we went and the bird did us wrong. He never made a sound. Such is turkey hunting.
        I took a day off from the woods this morning as I'll be there for a long stretch of hard hunting in the coming days. An NWTF videographer with the Turkey Country TV show will be here Thursday through Sunday to film some hunts. Through the weekend I'll also have a hunter to guide on the annual Wilcox Academy Benefit Turkey Hunt.
        Our successfully filmed hunt from last spring fell on hard times once it got to the production room. Some sort of equipment failure caused the audio portion of the hunt to be unusable, as was the audio portion from all the video that was done with that equipment last spring, which included quite a few successful hunts. So this is "Round Two," my second chance to make the show.
      I have a few wise old gobblers in a hardwood drain that I hope we will be able to have some luck with. It is one thing to kill a turkey. It is a whole other challenge to also get the hunt on film. Much of our property has a low visibility and is not suitable for good videos. Hunting in these areas you might not even see the gobbler until he is at 25 yards. It makes for a boring video if the turkey is shot a soon as it appears. So we'll have the challenge of setting up where we can have some visibility and the call the turkey through an area that would make for a good show. This is, of course, much easier planned that executed.
       I'll let you know next week how it goes.
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      Our birds started off the season very quietly but are beginning to gobble a little more with each passing day. The long string of nice weather on tap should only improve the action as we move deeper into the month of March.
      So far I have had a few close calls with gobblers. My closest brush with success came on Sunday morning. After calling up a group of 6 jakes at first light, I moved toward another turkey gobbling deep in a pine plantation. He quickly started to answer me and he began to move straight to me. I readied for the shot as he sounded off at 150 yards, then 100, and then 50. I was already debating in my mind whether I would fry the bird or grill him. It was a sure thing the way he was charging in.
      I was in a thick patch of woods where visibility was limited. The pines, nearing 30 years old, have been thinned twice and never burned. Some areas are thicker than others and where I was had a limited sight of 25 to 35 yards at best.
      As I waited for him to appear through the trees in front of my gun barrel at a range that would have been no more than 25 yards, his next gobble came from more of a leftward position. I eventually saw him, directly to my left at a nine o'clock position as my gun still pointed in the twelve o'clock position. At such point any turkey hunter knows he has been outmaneuvered and is in quite a jam.
      He stepped through a tiny opening and then behind two large pines. I tried to slowly to move the gun around, knowing at best he would soon be behind me and I would need to do a major job of repositioning if I was to get a shot.
      It didn't work. He saw the movement. I saw him take a few quick steps through the brush and he faded back into the timber without a sound. No putt. Nothing. He just faded away and was gone.
       The encounter came on the same few acres as where old "Spooky" hung out during all of last season. I didn't mind the bird winning this early contest, but I sure hate to think that I was that close to getting Spooky and failed to close the deal.
       I'll have another report later in the week.

      Turkey Season Eve is one day away and the excitement throughout our area is building. The signs of spring are beginning to show as the trees begin to bud and the grasses "green up" from the long winter. The recent warm days have the turkeys gobbling as well.
       I'm not one to spend a lot of time in the woods "listening" for turkeys prior to the season. Having hunted the same woods for many years I know where a bird should be on opening day. Sometimes he is indeed there and sometimes not, and often times our birds don't start the season with a lot of gobbling anyway. As the end of March gets closer, the gobbling will improve. For now, it is hard to tell what we have.
      I did spend Saturday night at our little cabin in the woods. I arrived after dark and after spending some time catching up on my outdoor magazines I got in the bed for a good night's sleep. The weather was nice and I slept with the windows open. I did not set an alarm and when I awoke day was breaking. As I scrambled to get on my camo, I heard a bird gobbling not far outside the window. That was a great way to begin the day.
      I took a long walk around the property but did not hear much else. Though it was a beautiful morning, it remains early in the spring and the gobbling will improve with each passing day.
      I, like so many others, am very disappointed in the change to Daylight Savings Time three weeks early this year. The time to hunt before work each weekday has been severely diminished and opportunities for many area hunters to get in the woods each day have been lost. It is a big silly to me to think that any amount of energy will actually be saved in this endeavor, but what is done is done for now. We'll just have to press on.
       Good luck to you. Hunt safe and see you here next week.

      There hasn't been much news to report from my woods this past month, therefore, there were no updates to this site. I was busy catching up with work and chores that built up during deer season. I never made it out for a rabbit hunt or a varmit hunt. And now it is almost time for "another season" to open.
      Turkey season opens March 15th in Alabama and I'm seeing a lot of anticipation of another great season in our area. Many local hunters that I have spoken with indicate they have seen a lot of birds on their property and the hopes are high for a productive spring.
       I'm not sure what we'll experience in our Swamp. Due to changes in the habitat our overall numbers are not as high as they were 6 to 8 years ago, yet we have an ample number of gobblers and seem to have quite a few old birds as well. We have tangled with a few of these over the years and they have won most of the matches. We'll aim to even the score a little more this season.
       My task this spring will be to get the best of "Spooky." If you have read this column for several years you have heard about this gobbler. I've hunted him for three springs now. I suspect he was a 3 year-old bird that first spring so he must be a good 6 years old now. His tendency is to stay on the limb until nearly mid morning and when he flies down he quits gobbling. I believe the afternoon is going to be the time to take him. I hunted a few afternoons last season and came real close to taking him.
       The audio portion of the hunt we filmed last year had major problems, as did the audio on all the hunts the videographer filmed. There was some sort of equipment failure that was not known about until the tapes got to the production room. We'll try again at the end of March for 4 more days. I plan to save the pursuit of Spooky until that hunt.
        I've had several people email me about last week's tornado that ripped through the Miller's Ferry area of our county. My neighbor, Cliff Gaston, was the lone fatality. Cliff had gone to his mother's lakeside home during lunch when the tornado struck. Keep the Gaston family in your prayers. I have some photos at this website.... www.wilcoxwebworks.com/tornado .

I have a few more pictures to share of successful hunts in our area that have been submitted. Special thanks to all the contributors.
Through the next month the updates to this site will be spasmodic until the opening of turkey season on March 15th. There simply will not be much news to report until that time. Keep the buck photos coming and I'll post a few along.

      The final weekend of deer season lacked the big buck sighting that I have often experienced in prior closing weekends. Though cold, the rain on Saturday afternoon and the wind all day on Sunday hampered the activity of the deer herd that I was hunting. I hung with them, spending about 8 hours each day in the tree. From my climbing stand, I endured the Saturday afternoon drizzle and the cold winds that persisted all of Sunday. I saw a few does and a few small bucks, most all of them not within bow range.
       I had hopes of getting back to the woods on the final afternoon of the season, a beautiful afternoon to witness the closing of the season. It is just something about being there for the last sunset. I like to be there so that when the final minutes tick off the season I can tell the deer, "You won this round, but just wait 'til next year!" But this year it wasn't to be. I couldn't make it this time and therefore my season ended Sunday afternoon when a cold hunter climbed down the tree, ready to seek refuge from the cold and gusty winds of the day.
       My cousin Curtis and his friends hunted the Swamp for a few days last week and into the weekend. They killed two mature bucks and saw quite a few young bucks running does.

I have heard from many who did experience good luck in the south Alabama deer woods the final few weeks of the season. Here are a few more of those successful hunters.

       Keep the pictures coming. We'll have one more round next week so get them to me for posting. The email address is hornswamp@yahoo.com .

       I hope to do a little scouting this weekend. The best time to pinpoint a good buck is right now. There's no need to worry about spooking him when the season is over, but his rubs and scrapes will give away the areas he likes to frequent. The 06-07 season is over, but the time to begin preparing for the next one begins now.
       Our annual February rabbit likely will not take place this season. We are real short on briar thickets in the Swamp right now and last February's hunt was a bust. I think I'll funnel my efforts in other directions until turkey season, like scouting for buck sign and getting in a coyote hunt as well.
       I learned a week or two ago that the turkey hunt we filmed last spring in the Swamp will not be making the NWTF's Turkey Call TV show. There were major problems with the audio portion of the footage, attributed to an equipment failure that also ruined the other filmed hunts that the videographer captured last spring. The good news is that we get another chance to make the show. Another videographer will be here the end of March for a three day hunt. We'll try again then.
      See you on Tuesday.

It was the perfect "storm" of sorts that converged over south Alabama beginning early last week. With the rut underway, the single most important ingredient needed arrived from the north---cold! Furthermore, the fact that the cold arrived after two weeks of unseasonably warm weather sent the deer into a frenzy. Though I was not in the woods much myself, the emails began coming with a rapid pace and contained pictures of very nice bucks that were dropping with each passing day. My cousins Tommy Malone and Wes Mayfield along with their friends Randy Fullerton and Brad Gray were hunting the Horn Swamp and brought me daily reports. The bucks were moving---everywhere.
The buck shown below was taken by Brad in the Horn Swamp. Brad said that during his three and a half day hunt in the Swamp he saw a total of 43 deer of which 19 were bucks. I would say that is a pretty good buck/doe ratio!

       My hunting was limited to Saturday which turned out to be a nice day with none of the rain and drizzle that persisted for much of last week. Just as daylight was creeping through the trees I settled into the number one morning stand on my list at the bow club. I was prepared for a lot of action. It never came. About 10:30 a small buck came through the woods. He was the first and last deer I saw. At 11:15 I called it a morning.
        For the afternoon I hunted woods adjacent to a greenfield, in hopes of catching a big buck scoping out does. A number of does did come to the field and at about sunset I heard footsteps behind me. I turned and looked over my shoulder and saw a buck coming my way. I readied for the shot as he appeared to my right, 10 steps away. He was a beautiful 8 point but not quite up to the standards of the club. I would guess he scores about 100 to 110. He presented a great opportunity for a shot but I didn't take it. He walked on into the greenfield in pursuit of does.
        I did not hunt Sunday morning and the afternoon brought rain. The coming weekend looks great weather-wise as does the remainder of this week. When the cold blows in to accompany the last of January and the rut, Alabama deer hunting is at its finest.
        Here are a few of the pictures sent to me this past week. I'll have more posted later in the week so stop by for a rare mid-week update (Friday).

      Despite the warm temperatures the school benefit hunt went well. Over 100 deer and hogs were brought in including some real nice bucks. It seems the best bucks were taken Friday afternoon and Saturday morning. I'll get more details in the coming days and have a complete report next week.
      My hunters killed 4 bucks, three of which were young and smaller than I would have preferred to have been shot. I don't mind each hunter killing a buck but after one I like for them to adhere to our management principles of letting the young bucks walk. We'll do better next year.
       Overall it was an awfully warm weekend for January. The weather was more typical of early April and I had to remind myself I was deer hunting and not turkey hunting.
       As darkness closed in Saturday afternoon I heard a group of hogs coming through the woods. They went into a greenfield that I was hunting near. At 5:30 I climbed down the tree and slipped to the edge of the field where a sow and about 10 shoats were feeding. I tipped out into the edge of the field within 20 yards of the sow. I buried an arrow right behind her shoulder. It was so dark I could not see the arrow hit but I did hear it and it sounded good. She ran 75 yards and I heard her crash in the edge of the woods.   It was a double lung shot and my arrow exited the hog and lay on the ground just on the other side of where she had been standing.

At the W. A. Hunt skinning shed, my little hog (85 lbs)
was dwarfed by this 275 lb. boar.

      Sunday afternoon I hunted the edge of a hardwood bottom, adjacent to a pine thicket. It is an area near where I have had some of my better hunts this season. I saw two young bucks, a 6 and an 8 point, roaming around. I also saw a few does. Only the bucks were within bow range and they were not good enough to shoot.
       Having Monday off work I went back to that spot for the morning hunt and saw the same bucks again along with a few more does. For the afternoon I hunted the edge of a greenfield as light rain showers passed over as the next cold front moved our way. I saw one yearling.
        My cousin Tommy Malone and friends will be hunting the Swamp this week and weekend. I think they are going to have some excellent hunting. This drastic weather change is great for increasing movement. After a week of 70+ degree highs and 50 to 60 degree lows, the temperature might not see 60 again between now and the weekend. With lows in the 30s, that is enough to really put the deer herd on the move. The bucks are roaming and will really be chasing does through the end of the month.
       I'm looking forward to getting back to the woods on Saturday and Sunday. If the weather is as good as forecasted, I'll spend most of the day in the tree. The season is winding down, but the best time to hunt is now here.
       I have four to five more days to hunt. I've pretty well narrowed my choice locations to three different areas. Area one is in a hardwood bottom just off a pine thicket. There are numerous blown down trees through the area and my stand overlooked a funnel of fewer blowdowns and easier access to and from a large area of hardwoods. This will primarily be a morning location. Area two is on the edge of a greenfield. I'll be hunting the eastern edge about 75 yards from the field, hoping to catch a big buck skirting the edge looking for does. This will be an afternoon spot. Area three is located in an area of mixed timber with lots of small trees, where there always exists lots of scrapes.
       The rut is here. Let the big bucks come out to play!