I should have Stayed.

After my success, we had a little time to get Buck a Virginia bird before heading south to meet another friend of Buck's in North Carolina.

The next morning we pulled a textbook hunt for Buck's bird. The sun rose, five different birds gobbled within 80 yards of us, a hen answered and flew down to my decoys, then a big tom gobbled a few times for good measure and jump right down to us, allowing us to move south.

We arrived at our North Carolina destination to watch two big strutters having a ball right behind camp in a big, grownup field. We tried sneaking down to work them, but they just up and disappeared. We headed back to camp to find out that the landowner had watched the birds come within 10 yards of us while we were looking the other way.

The next day, I checked the field from the attic window and there they were, but once again they disappeared before I could get down there to work them. However, they seemed to be using a trail through some trees separating two fields.

Since it seemed like a good idea, I decided to set up a blind and wait for them to appear. For five hours I waited enjoying the day before my patience wore down. Leaving wasn't my best decision, since a short time later I was watching a bird strut in that same field heading for the trail through the woods.

Once again, we circled the bird trying to be the first to the trail. The only way I could win the race was by running the last half mile ignoring my legs and lungs until I was kneeling 30 yards from where the field and the trail met looking for that bird through my binoculars.

I scanned the field from right to left, my heart in my throat. Did I get here first? As my eyes reached the trail, I saw him, already in range heading straight to me. As he stepped behind a large pine tree, I lowered my binocs and raised my 12 gauge. North Carolina weighed in at 18 pounds and had a 10 1/2-inch beard and 1 1/4-inch spurs.

Lesson learned: Stick with it when you consistently see birds in one spot.

Traveling

The season is in full swing and I'm looking forward to chasing birds as the season expands north and west, along with a quick trip south of the border.

Most of my hunts begin with the line, "I have a friend that lives in `name a state' that has some property. Do you want to take a road trip?" Friends are great, and friends with hunting property are even better.

We left Florida at 7 p.m., drove 11 straight hours and arrived in Virginia at 6 a.m. Birds were already sounding off in the distance as we gathered our gear and took a quick look at a map of the area, which looked like so many other parts of southern Virginia containing a good mix of pastures, pines and hardwoods.

When nothing exciting materialized after fly down, I headed slowly down a logging road stopping every 100 yards or so to call swapping calls each time. As I eased around a bend, I noticed something seemed out of place. There was a round, dark blob about a 100 yards away in the middle of the road.

"That's a turkey," screamed in my head, freezing my body in place. I wasn't fully exposed because I had led with my eyes, and he didn't have a clue I was there. I eased back, set up a decoy and started calling.

He never answered, or even seemed interested until a jake got a 20-yard head start on him, which broke him out of his strut and into my gun weighing 18 pounds, sporting a 10 5/8-inch beard and 1 ¼-inch spurs.

Lessons Learned: Cover ground when in new territory, but go slow and pay attention.

Don't Give up

Even when everything seems to be going wrong, sometimes it just works out. A deer hunting friend of mine invited me to hunt his 350 acre farm in north Alabama. Bill knows very little about turkey hunting, but he does know his property.

We tried roosting birds separately that first night and while I headed to camp with nothing to tell, Bill said he heard birds north of his listening post giving us a place to go that next morning.

However, we quickly discovered that morning that echoes must have thrown off his direction because the birds were south and we were in a bad position. The bird pitched off and came in behind us realizing pretty quick that something was just not right.

That bird stood at 100 yards gobbling until three jakes came in, which seemed to break his suspicion for a moment, but he still didn't like to situation so he walked away down a ravine still gobbling.

We had to move and move fast. Bill led the way to head our adversary off at the pass, which ended up being a bottleneck creek with him gobbling 30 yard away just over a small hump. He was right there, but patience got the best of me.

I couldn't stand it anymore, so I kneeled up to peak over the hump, breaking a twig with my knee in the process. The only good news was that he was still gobbling as he headed away.

He headed up the opposite ridge and once again Bill led the way to cut him off. We were several hundred yards from the location of our last encounter and he was still gobbling as he walked uphill. I gave him one soft yelp from the backside of the hill and then snuck 50 yards up and over to catch him as he circled, which had been his standard move all day.

Once again he circled the location of my calling, but he didn't know I had anticipated and countered his move. He was a good three to four year-old bird with a 10 and 7/8-inch beard and 1 and 5/16-inch hooks.

Lessons Learned: Bill's knowledge of the property was more important than calling. Just because a bird busts you, it doesn't mean the hunt is over.

Alabama the Beautiful

Last year I hunted 10 states and was successful in nine of them. I was outwitted in Alabama by big Heart of Dixie gobblers, but I still headed back to try my luck on the same southeastern Alabama farm where I hunted last year.

However, two things are different this year: I'm three weeks earlier and the owners decided to end afternoon hunting. I'm thinking that both factors should turn the tables my way.

While scouting on the first afternoon, turkey sign was abundant and I even spotted two mature gobblers. I was unable to roost them, but seeing them made me excited for the next morning.

The morning sun found me walking down a logging road listening for a gobble to break the silence. My excitement from the day before quickly left when I heard nothing.

Not knowing where a bird was located, I decided on a fast run-and-gun strategy so I could cover a lot of ground quickly. It took 20 minutes of fast moving and hard calling to get a response. He was two hundred yards away down the ridge, answering every call and heading my way.

My setup position wasn't ideal, I wanted to get 40 yards further up past some brush, but he was coming too fast gobbling hard until he was 80 yards out. The next 10 minutes were silent until I heard him drumming 30 yards to my right, emphasizing that I wasn't in the best position, but I still thought I could take him if he would come out of strut.

I shifted right, he raised his head and I laid him down at 25 yards. He was young gobbler weighing a tad over 17 pounds and sporting a 5-inch bird and half-inch spurs with a full fan, but it was still a great hunt.

Lesson Learned: Set up is just as important as calling. The bird skirted the brush bringing him up in a bad location for me. I should have given the bird more room and I would have seen him sooner.

March 3, 2008 — Still in the Grove

Monday found me back in the Orange Grove hunting with a couple of videographers and a nine-year-old searching for another Grand Slam.

This morning we were planning to take our time since this group of birds had flown down three different places in three days, we were filming and Michael, though an accomplished turkey hunter, was nine years old and dealing with the weight of filming his hunt. We didn't have to worry.

We set up in Double Bull blinds around 400 yards from the roost and waited for daylight. The set up worked. The birds kicked off the roost and glided down to the decoys in two bunches. At 10 yards, we watched a tom work the decoys. Within minutes of beginning the day, Michael lifted his gun and dropped an Osceola gobbler. The hardest part of the hunt for Michael was waiting for the cameramen to get enough footage to let him drop his bird.

We sat I in the dark about 400 yards away from the roost in two Double Bull blinds with a camera in both. The birds were caught on film by the other camera flying from the roost and gliding all the way right up to within 50 yards. The jakes and hens landed on the other side of an irrigation canal off to our right while the Toms and one hen landed on our side less than 40. They must have seen the decoys from the roost and decided that there was safety in numbers. The Tom was 10 yards away when we first saw him. Besides waking up at 3:30, the hardest part of the hunt was to make Michael wait three long minutes while we watched him interact with the decoys. Lift, safety and - boom! Michael was the proud owner of another of several Osceolas that he has harvested.

March 1, 2008 — The Opener

Opening morning seemed like a dream. I set Tony up in a grass ditch near his decoys close to where I had watched two Toms land during the past week. The birds started gobbling around 6:15 a.m. then flew down and started running to the decoys providing Tony a great shot that he missed. Luckily, the birds landed close and strutted back to the decoys allowing Tony to send his second shot true. Our success came from knowing the birds' location, which I learned through intensive scouting.

Feb. 25, 2008 — Before Season

Scout, Scout and scout some more. With two friends coming for opening weekend of Florida's southern zone, I needed to scout to ensure their success, even though I knew there were birds in the orange grove we would be hunting.

The first morning is always the toughest, isn't it? Especially when you're not carrying calls, camo or even a gun. I scout from a distance early in the year, looking and listening. All I need to do is to hear or see a Tom before I get going. Birds don't freak out if you just keep moving and leave them alone.

On Monday, I found seven gobblers in three groups. Wednesday found me waiting to see where these groups would fly down. Two groups flew to different areas, while on Friday I watched two gobblers hit the ground within 50 yards of their Monday and Wednesday landings.