- Joined
- Aug 26, 2005
- Messages
- 4,106
Guyon , beautiful color on that bird . Good luck with the wing calls .
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The Other Wild Turkey
- Thread starter munk
- Start date
Thanks Bill. Yes, I'd heard that about Ben too. He didn't think much of the Bald Eagle and if he saw today's pictures of the bird picking over the trash in an Alaskan Dump outside Anchorage more folks might have seen it his way.
but the turkey? Well, I'll leave that to better hands to defend, like Semper's.
munk
but the turkey? Well, I'll leave that to better hands to defend, like Semper's.
munk
- Joined
- Jun 16, 2003
- Messages
- 20,207
Sittin' in a state park in western PA - October, 2003. I had finished my dinner and was reading. Other than me, the park was empty.
Over my shoulder I hear, "buck, buck, buck; buuuck, buuuck, buuuck." Someone's free range chickens grazing, I figured and didn't even look. Then, out of the corner of my eye, I see it's a turkey hen - then another - then another - eleven in all. They were acting just like chickens in the farmyard, peckin' and scratchin' no more than thirty feet away. I didn't move, and in fifteen minutes they had moved out of sight.
I told my camping campanions when they arrived, but a few thought I was pullin' their legs.
Jump ahread to Sunday afternoon, and we're pulling out of the park and heading back to Ohio. But we had to stop and wait, while twenty-seven turkies - large and small - ambled across the road. No Toms.
On reflecting, they now found my story quite likely.
Over my shoulder I hear, "buck, buck, buck; buuuck, buuuck, buuuck." Someone's free range chickens grazing, I figured and didn't even look. Then, out of the corner of my eye, I see it's a turkey hen - then another - then another - eleven in all. They were acting just like chickens in the farmyard, peckin' and scratchin' no more than thirty feet away. I didn't move, and in fifteen minutes they had moved out of sight.
I told my camping campanions when they arrived, but a few thought I was pullin' their legs.
Jump ahread to Sunday afternoon, and we're pulling out of the park and heading back to Ohio. But we had to stop and wait, while twenty-seven turkies - large and small - ambled across the road. No Toms.
On reflecting, they now found my story quite likely.
