I have failed to punch that third and final tag all sorts of ways this spring in Virginia's fields and forests. I have moved at the wrong time, not moved at the right time, set up too far away and too close to birds.
But Wednesday morning things finally broke my way. I had set up a good hour before sunrise near a known roosting area. I had anticipated that the turkeys would be well up the hill some 75 to 100 yards away from me and that they would make their way toward me as I called. I had chosen this particular spot because it is near a field that these turkeys like to feed in early in the morning.
However, my distance estimation was totally incorrect. A gang of four to six jakes were roosted just 25 yards from my position. They never made a peep all morning, just flying down right in front of me to my surprise. I shot the closest one and my Virginia season was over, except for taking a friend afield and hopefully my son Mark and son-in-law David.
Meanwhile I have gone to West Virginia, coming agonizingly close to killing a bird on Thursday when I took a half day of vacation time from school. Saturday, I was never in the game as the wind howled and the toms gobbled only on the roost.
I have two Saturdays and a 1 1/2 days left of school vacationto take a West Virginia bird. Will I have enough time?