Hunt Details:

Date: April 27-29 2007
Target: Turkey
Weapon(s): Benelli Nova 12 GA shotgun, Bushmaster .223 with Leupold 5X scope
Location: 480 acres, 15 miles east of Post, Texas; 254 miles from Austin, TX
Host: Franklin Bottoms aka "Transman"
Weather: Day - 87 degrees / Night - 45 degrees

Team Members:
Jason Parrish
Diana Jamail
Debra Heater
John Schwarzlose
Chris Weidner

FRIDAY MORNING.

The bags were packed, the trucks were loaded and excitement was high.  It was our first official TexasHuntFish team hunt.  It was also my first official hunting trip to shoot an animal with something other than a video camera.

Lock and load.  It's go time.

FRIDAY EVENING.

We arrived at our camp location on the 480 acres and quickly unpacked and geared up.  The sun was on its way down and we didn't have much light left but wanted to squeeze in a hunt.  (After a seven hour truck ride you really need to stretch the legs and pull the trigger on something...or so I'm told)

We broke into teams and I end up with Diana and John.  Diana was the shooter, John was our guide and I was the videographer. John gave a call and it didn't take long before he started hearing some answers.  We stopped and listened.  John motioned to the woods and Diana and I took our places in some thick underbrush with a view of the road.  Quickly and quietly, John set up the decoy and moved to join us as we lie in wait.

We didn't wait long.

While Diana and John were focused on the decoy's position, I focused on getting a few shots of Diana holding the shotgun and John calling the birds.  Suddenly, out of the corner of my left eye something moved.  Two big Toms!  Where the hell did they come from?  They were strutting their way out of the woods about to cross the road.  I signaled John who alerted Diana and we all quietly turned to face the beautiful birds.

Now this is where it gets a bit fuzzy (and funny).  I'm not sure if Diana thought she could make the shot, John wasn't sure if she should take the shot and I kept waiting for the gun blast that never came.  We all looked at each other hoping to find the "go ahead" in each other eye's but never made that connection. We'd just left Jason and Debra in that same direction so I think that played a large part in unspoken hesitation to take the shot.  Most employers tend to frown upon being shot so better safe than sorry.  (Of course, Jason Parrish isn't like most employers so you never know.)

The turkeys moved across the road and out of frame.  They would live to see another sunrise.

But we weren't through yet.  The gobblers were still sounding off all around us so we settled back in to wait for another opportunity.  Eyes fixed on that patch of road, we hoped for more birds to cross as they made their way back to the roost.  No such luck.  The only other thing we would attract to the decoy that evening would be a doe…and deer wasn't on the menu.

Well, actually that's not true.

Back at camp, we returned to find our gracious host, Franklin Bottoms, cooking venison sausage over a huge open flame.  I haven't had a lot of deer meat in my life but I think we all agreed that it was pretty darn tasty.  We sat around the fire drinking and talking and laughing and generally making fools of ourselves.  It was great.  After spending all week in front of a computer screen it honestly didn't get much better than this.

As the night wore on we started to drop like flies.  The women retreated to the warmth and safety of their cargo container bunk beds and the men to their cold and confined coffin-like tents.  The sun would be up in a few hours and we wanted to get an early start in the morning.  We wanted to bag our birds.

SATURDAY MORNING - 9 a.m. (Okay, so we didn't quite make it up as early as we had planned.)

Gobble, Gobble, Gobble.  The woods were alive with sounds of turkey.  They were mocking us.

Diana, John and I teamed up again determined to harvest a bird.  We struck out in the same direction as the night before and set up shop.  And waited.  And waited.  It sounded as if the birds were getting farther away so we picked up and started down the road again.  After a fruitless stalk in one direction we turned around headed back through camp and worked our way north up the property’s fence line.

John made the call and GOBBLE if we didn't hear a reply not 40 ft. from us in the thick underbrush just across the fence.  Again, we set up the decoy and disappeared into the bushes.  Waiting and calling.  They were close.  Getting closer.

Then competition reared its ugly head.  A hen.  A real hen.  Damn it.  Guess there really is nothing like the real thing.

The sun was beating down and our stomachs were rumbling so we headed back to camp to rehydrate and grab a bite.

Oddly enough, it was at this very moment when John encountered a rattlesnake that wanted to grab a bite as well.  John yelled in surprise, scaring the ever loving BLEEP out of all of us. Time seemed to stand still. The snake reared back to strike...yet didn't.  Somehow, John was able to push back in mid stride and move up and out of the snakes reach ala The Matrix.

My first thought was "Is everyone ok?"  My second thought was "Why oh why wasn't I rolling the camera just then??!"

The snake quickly slithered away before we could get a little payback. 

We took a minute for John to come down from his adrenaline high and then cautiously (and very, very alertly) made our way back to camp.

Once back at camp we drank deep from our already rapidly declining water supply and took a short breather.  And it was then that we heard the first signs of a victory.  BLAM!  Shotgun blast to the south.  Had to be Jason.

Twenty minutes later, like a scene out of an old western, Jason rambled around the corner and up the road, shotgun over his shoulder, bird dangling by its legs and a satisfied smile on his face. (Jason's face not the birds.)

All teams soon reassembled at camp and basked in the glory of our fearless leader's harvest.  It was a good looking bird.  John pulled out his knife and proceeded to show us first timers how to field dress a turkey.  He made it look easy.

So now that we knew it was possible to actually bring home the bacon we were all anxious to get back out there.  Somewhere out there was a turkey with my name on it...and I wanted my name back. (What does that mean??)

SATURDAY AFTERNOON.

Now I'll admit that before I was actually on the land with gun in hand I thought I might have some slight hesitation about pulling the trigger.  This was based not so much on any negative attitude I felt toward hunting but more along the lines of "God I'd hate to miss."  I don't like to fail and wished I'd had more prep time with the guns before the trip.

At first I was resigned to stay behind the camera and capture each member's "shining moment of glory" but after some brief reassurance and a practice shot with the .223 I felt pretty good about my ability to hit my mark.  (Thank you Jason)

So as the sun began it's descent for the day I made my way to a deer blind over looking a field facing west. (Awesome, setting sun in my eyes)  I held the rifle in my hands and took a look at the land through the scope.  Nice.  Placing the gun aside, I took a moment to gather my thoughts and relax.  Based on the luck we'd had so far I figured I'd have some time before a turkey stuck its neck out.

I put in my ipod, hit play on the Doors song "Love Me Two Times," closed my eyes and took a deep breath.  Turkey or not, this was great.

Feeling content and relaxed, I opened my eyes and glanced lazily across the field.  Uhm, Hi Turkey.  Son of a BLEEP!

My heart rate doubled in a matter of milliseconds.  I tore the earphones from my ears and grabbed the binoculars.  (Huge Tom, 200 yards at 1 o'clock, sir.)  Quickly, I put in my ear plugs and laid the rifle to rest on the lip of the blind.  Tilting my head, I brought the bird into view of the scope.  Trying to remember my "training" I steadied the gun and attempted to take slow steady breaths but the excitement of my first bird in the crosshairs was overwhelming.  I found myself a bit shaky and it was difficult to keep my aim true.

As the Turkey strutted his way across the horizon it literally felt like I was at a Carnival.  (Would I win the oversized plush Tweety bird or go home with the crappy Pokemon eraser?)

Half way through my shooting window I settled my nerves and settled on the shot.  Heart beat filling my ears. Breathe out and squeeze.  POP.  I made contact!  The big bird stumbled and stumbled...and stumbled again.  Go down already!  Should I take another shot?  Part of my head was saying "yes" while the other part was saying "wait he's gonna fall."  (I'll also admit that another part was thinking "I've only been in this blind for maybe 8 minutes.  If I fire again, everyone back at camp is going to think I've gone postal on every animal daring to cross my path.")

Time was running out and so was my shooting window.  I made the decision to take one more shot.  Calm down.  Deep breath.  Focus.  Aim.  Squeeze.  POP.  I hit again but this time the turkey shot up into the air, soared over the horizon and out of view.  (I would later be told this was called "A Death Glide.")

The sounds of gunfire brought the attention of Jason who soon joined me in searching for my fallen fowl.

The sun was below the horizon now and light was low.  Try as we might we were unable to locate the bird.  We feared that it rode it's "death glide" over the fence line and out of reach.  Not good but I suppose it happens.  My first shot would end up feeling bittersweet.

We returned to camp and spent another night around the campfire relating tales from the day.

SUNDAY MORNING.

Our last morning.  As I lie in my tent I could hear the turkeys calling from the woods all around us.  We split up into our teams again but it was all to no avail.  Regardless of whether we were sitting or stalking we just couldn't get a good shot. 

These birds were friggin’ phantoms!

So as the clouds began to roll in around mid-day we packed up our camp and said our good-byes. It was a hell of a learning experience and three days I would not soon forget.  I had the hunting bug now.  (Actually, I probably had a couple of "hunting bugs" but they'd have to wait till I got home to take a much needed shower.)

And as we rolled down the rocky country road back toward the land of lattes and liberal politics, the sky let go and rained down upon us, washing away the dust and dirt of the weekend's adventure.  An adventure I hoped would only be the beginning....

Images and Files: View all 1 photos / videos here.