By the time you read this, I should be sitting in the middle of a wheat field on a working 6,000- acre ranch.
I have hunted here for the past 20 years, minus last year when it was shut down because of the virus. I have brought you Struttin’ Time readers along, as usual, so you can live every minute of the hunt with me. But this week’s story is about my brother and his opening day in North Carolina.
I am long past going to hunt with him and his crew. They are without a doubt the worst organized crew I have ever hunted with, and remember, I have hunted just about everywhere. (Besides that, I had orders from the top that I was too old to take all those trips, and the way to stay married for almost 50 years is to listen and obey.)
It rained all night on the day before their season opened April 10. Now I will give Rick credit on being an expert on hunting the Blue Ridge Mountains. He has hunted the same 300 acres since 1970. As usual Rick told his crew, they were leaving at 5 a.m. They never left until 6 a.m., but that is how they are. Nothing new there.
Rick told me they were 30 minutes late getting into the blinds. He went about his way of setting up his decoys, then after returning to his blind he saw the fog was so thick he couldn’t see them. Before he could get back out of his blind to set them closer, the gobblers were upon him.
My theory has always been, when you see the red, throw the lead. Rick thinks in a different world. Everything has to be a certain way. Now staying with the way he does things, he had set his blind, not on a level spot, but on a steep slope. He decided he needed to turn around for his shot. Meanwhile, the strap on his shotgun caught on the arm of his chair. When he jerked on the gun, to try and get it unstuck, his gun, chair, and blind went rolling down the mountain, headed toward a level spot that would eventually stop it. Instead, everything came to a rest when it hit a tree.
At this point, my brother was under not only the blind, but the chair as well, with his gun somewhere up the mountain. After he got himself together, all the turkeys were gone, so he decided he had enough fun for the day and went home.
Game over, for the day, and he had lost.