You Meet All Kinds in Turkey Camp
Sure, it's wrong to stereotype us turkey hunters, but . . .
Certain qualities tend to appear in all of us as the long season wears on.
Are you one of these turkey hunters? Know somebody like this?
Check out this click-through blog post to see.
This dude is up for everything, but his gas tank is running low.
He "went into town" for a visit and got back after midnight.
And that was just the night before opening day. And the three days since.
He still hasn't killed a turkey, can't stay awake at the supper table, has food on his chin and snores while you're trying to enjoy your meal.
Great conversationalist? Not.
He's the exact opposite of "The Sleepwalker" guy.
He dodges the friendly camp poker game, after roosting a bird for the next morning, and heading to bed at a reasonable hour.
And he's up an hour before everyone else in camp, depriving you of that extra 60 minutes of sleep with the noise from his coffee-making, drawer-closing and refrigerator-opening.
And yes, he's already hunted Florida this season, filling both Osceola tags. He hasn't tagged a bird yet in your camp, but you're pretty sure he will soon. Like today.
Right before he continues this season's Grand Slam quest.
She doesn't turkey hunt, but thinks she might try it soon. She just wants to be with her guy in turkey camp. He's hunted, but mostly mid-mornings so far.
Yes, you're on your best behavior with a woman in camp, because that's how your mama raised you.
But it's getting tough. No off-color jokes. No pranks. No fun.
"When are you two heading home?" you ask her guy.
"Not sure, we might stay the weekend, too," he says. "I'll ask her."
Yep, he killed his turkey opening morning. And he's saving a tag for later.
He's already put several other guys into birds, calling up a few more for others in camp.
He's old-school. He's got rules. Follow them if you're smart.
He used to be Mr. Perfect when he was younger, and now he's just plain in charge, scratching his gray beard as he ponders his next move.
Yep, sometimes he even sleeps in, and everybody has to wait for him to get up before starting breakfast.
He tells camp members where they can hunt sections of the lease, pointing to a big map on the wall.
Your opinion matters as much as the hometown fan heckling a visiting pitcher at a baseball game.
Not much. He's earned his rank. After all, he's the "Camp Boss" and don't you forget it.
And that fancy organic coffee you brought to turkey camp because you love it? Better keep it in the truck.
Yep, that's his nickname: "Easy Street."
He's so carefree because he's rich and retired. And he let's you know it every other hour.
He's hunted turkeys all across the United States for years, plus Mexico and Canada. You can't knock him for that, I guess.
Envy? Yep, not a good thing . . .
Secretly you want to be him. Part of you doesn't want to be near him.
But when he invites you to turkey hunt his ranch out West, you sort of reconsider.
(Number stick photos by Bill Konway.)
Editor's note: This turkey blog was first published Feb. 25, 2017.