Well, since my report last Saturday on my abysmal Virginia spring gobbler season, things have only grown worse. The low point for the week would have to have been Wednesday when I sat down in the dark under a flock of gobblers. They all flew down into a field, but by the time it was light enough for me to see that they were toms, they were on to the blob - me - that had been sitting among them. As far as I could tell, the entire assemblage consisted of jakes.
Today, Saturday, I worked one gobbler for nearly four hours. But, in reality, what I thought was one mature gobbler turned out to be four jakes, one of whom sounded like a mature bird. About 11:15, I finally called them in, but they started fighting among themselves and stopped their progress toward me.
Adding to the frustration was the fact that I put my scoped shotgun on several of them, but they would not stand still - except for one lucky jake who paused behind a deadfall. It was his lucky day - but not mine.
There's always the next outing, which will be Monday before school. Things can't go on like this...or can they?