Happy Thursday, friends! So, I know I said last week that I would hopefully have a good turkey hunting story for you from this past weekend. It is, with a heavy heart (and an itchy trigger finger), that I must tell you I do not have such a story. As anyone who lives around here knows, it literally monsooned. All. Weekend. Long. Like couldn’t even leave my house, monsooned. Downtown Charleston flooded so badly, there were cars floating down the streets. Anyways, long story short, it was far too rainy to be able to do any decent hunting. Between missing out on the hunts opening weekend, and being rained out this time, I was reminded of yet another hunt missed last year. Which brings us to our #tbt for the week!
For two weekends, my dad and I, along with a handful of friends, tried our hardest to bring down a gobbler at a fantastic place near Georgetown. After many hours spent stalking, sitting, listening, calling, stalking some more, and seeing plenty of birds without ever getting a shot, it was time for me to head back to Charleston and work. Now, as you turkey hunters know, seeing them does not always mean bringing one down. As luck (fate? karma? did I make the hunting gods angry?!) would have it, John went to the same spot my dad and I had last been for his last hunt of the weekend. As I was getting back in my car to return to Georgetown, I got a text message I will never forget. “Uhoh… Got your turkey!” was all it said. Wwwwhhaaaat?! You mean to tell me, that after hours and hours of failed attempts, you went right out there, hit the call, sneaked closer to the gobbler, and brought that thunder chicken to the ground?! Right where I was?! I couldn’t believe it. It was his first turkey, so I was incredibly torn between being all uppity that he got my the turkey, and super happy that he did. Ahh well… C’est la vie.
Happy hunting!
“It was great doing business with you, sir!“
