Today, Saturday, I was supposed to have pursued spring gobblers on a farm in Franklin County. But with the forecast of high winds, heavy rains, and thunderstorms, I opted not to go. But despite the weather forecast, and it was, sadly, extremely accurate, I couldn't remain inside, instead deciding to hunt on the 38-acre tract we live on in Botetourt County, Virginia.
I have never killed a turkey during a hard rain, and that fact did not change after the morning's events transpired. My biggest thrill of the day was calling in a very wet hen, which had responded to my clucks and yelps with similar vocalizations of her own. I kept looking behind her to see if a gobbler was in tow, but, alas, she was all alone. Finally, she ambled by me off to who knows where.
When the rain became even more intense around 11:10 or so, I decided to begin making my way back to the house, as turkey hunters have to be out of the woods by noon anyway. I arrived back around 11:30, drenched and cold, with having seen and heard from only that one bedraggled hen.
So was the day an unsuccessful one? No not at all, as I truly enjoyed being outside and frankly would have been miserable inside. After killing two turkeys back in the fall (Virginia has a three-turkey limit fall and spring seasons combined), I still have on stubborn tag unpunched. Maybe I will be able to use that tag on Monday before school.
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