April 14 — Lessons learned

It's the last day of our hunt, and we're back on Buffalo River National Park. Today, it's just Lawrence and me.

When our original hunting spot didn't pan out, we had to make a last minute "punt." Glenn dropped us off at a road entrance and left us to explore uncharted (at least, to us) territory. In a way, that was cool. Lawrence and I worked together to form a plan, which made me feel more a part of the hunt. No pre-plan. No scouting. No expectations.

The area proved to be simply beautiful. It was a narrow wooded road that broadened to pockets of green fields. Then, it stopped at an overhang that hovered above the Buffalo River. We were eye-level with circling turkey vultures.

Basically, the day was a wonderful hike, broken by two distant gobbles, then a distant gun shot. Luck wasn't on our side this trip, but I gained several new perspectives that put great value on the last few days.

Lesson 1: Arkansas is gorgeous.

Other than jokes about hillbillies, songs about Little Rock and Bill Clinton trivia, I'd never given much thought to Arkansas, much less Arkansas as a destination. Newton County lies in the northwest part of the state, nestled in the Ozarks. Massive boulders jut from green hills crested with trees. Waterfalls and old barns make every turn photo worthy. The people are friendly; the wildlife is diverse. And there's not much else to do but spend time outdoors. I can't wait to return and float the Buffalo River to get a new perspective on this place.

Lesson 2: Greasy and spicy foods do not mix well in a pregnant woman's belly.

No need to go into detail, but I have a whole new appreciation for peanut butter and crackers.

Lesson 3: Darn it, if I just don't love sharing hunt camp with other women.

Sharing camp with women makes me appreciate how different (and special) we are. Things I heard this week that one would NEVER hear in a guy's camp:

• The whir of a battery-powered toothbrush
• "Oh my gosh, there's strawberry cream cheese for our bagels!"
• The scream of a hairdryer
• "Let's get into the hot tub and practice our turkey calls."
• "I'm making French vanilla coffee. Anybody want some?

Lesson 4: We need more places to hunt.

I'd never hunted public land until this trip. Perhaps that makes me a hunting princess. But now, I have more understanding of hunters who get frustrated when they don't have as much access to quality land as they'd like.

It was great to see so many folks out on opening day, even though just about every turn off or trail gate had a truck parked at it.

That's why the NWTF's newest program, More Places to Hunt, is so important. It's designed to help provide more hunting land on both public and private property. Did you know the NWTF already has spent nearly $9 million and obtained more than 400,000 acres for hunting since 1987? Today, we're ramping up our efforts through land purchases, conservation easements, agency hunter access programs, legislative action and working with partners. You can learn more at www.nwtf.org

April 13 — Too cold

The morning bloomed even colder than yesterday with temperatures hovering around freezing. Today, Dian and I hunted 117 acres in Searcy County belonging to Glenn's grandmother with Lawrence Taylor of Knight & Hale as our guide.

The terrain included beautiful green ridges cut by deep wooded hollows. Lawrence has hunted the area before and knew where a bird should be.

We settled in to one of two possible strut zones.

"We're hunting a small plot of land near where birds roost," said Lawrence. "So we're using more of a deer hunting tactic of going to a hotspot and setting up."

Lawrence tried to lure in a gobbler using a call from one of Knight & Hale's new Hammer series.

"I like the Silver Hammer, which is an aluminum pot and peg caller," he said. "I love the way it purrs and clucks." Lawrence started off calling quietly but was forced to call louder to compete with the howling wind.

"When I want to call loud, I break out our Triple Bear Diaphragm," he said. It's the call Chris Parrish uses in competition.

But all the purring and clucking wasn't a match for the real deal. Our gobbler probably was with a hen (which we heard yelping earlier that morning).

"If we'd sat there all day, we'd have seen him eventually," Lawrence said. "But it's early in the season and the birds just aren't going nuts, yet."

Well, Dian and I were about to go nuts trying to keep warm. The wind ripped through our many layers of camo as if we were wrapped in flimsy cheesecloth.

We unanimously decided to call it a day and looked for a local café that served biscuits and gravy.

April 12 — Accentuate the positive

It's opening day in Arkansas. My hunting group, which includes Glenn Wheeler (who you met yesterday) and Dian Cooper from Missouri, left early in the morning to stake our claim on a spot of Buffalo National River.

We had a short setup that didn't amount to any action. So we hopped back in the truck and moved on.

Apparently, hunters in The Natural State aren't scared of a little floodwater or gusting wind, because they were out in full force.

Every bend, curve or pull off yielded another truck. And every forlorn hunter leaned against his tailgate reported his lack of luck.

One fella, saddled up against a Z71 pickup, summed up the morning just perfect. "Ain't gobblin'," he said.

Every cluck, yelp or purr Glenn let ring from his calls was met with nothing, nada, zip.

The morning ended with a set up in a field, hoping that two hens milling about would bring in a tom. It was fun, and a little exciting, but no such luck.

You know, though, it still was a good day. Any day outdoors is good if you accentuate the positive.

Large amounts of rain made the waterfalls gush and the trees just a little greener.

The wind made the fields sway like waves. Beautiful.

Going into the afternoon's hunt at Gene Rush WMA, we had the promise of a gobbler on some large foodplots planted by the Arkansas Game and Fish Commission. Same story as the morning's hunt: whipping winds, cold temps, no gobbles.

The positive? On the way out we got within a hundred yards of two cow elk--the first time I'd ever seen elk in the wild. And who would've thought I'd see them in Arkansas? It was an ending to a good day.

April 11 — Setting the stage

Glenn Wheeler, picked me up from the airport in Springfield, Mo. Glenn is one of Arkansas' native sons and an award-winning wildlife photographer.

As we drove to Harrison, Ark., to meet up with the rest of the hunting party, I got a debriefing on local hunting conditions - mega amounts of rain (more than 25 inches since Feb. 1, to be exact). That amounts to flooding. Add cool temperatures and 30 mph winds to the mix mean turkey sign galore but not much gobbling, Glenn said.

But that's tomorrow's worry. Tonight we dine family-style at the Wheeler house. And then settle in our home away from home--My Blue Heaven rental cabin on the Little Buffalo River.

For those of you who lost sleep over whether or not I would lose my lunch on the plane, rest assured I did just fine.

Modern medicine is a great thing. Ladies, say it with me now — Phenergan. Yeah, you know what I'm talking about.

April 10 — Ready or not

Let me go ahead and say I'm about 6 weeks pregnant. Mothers, you know what that means. Nausea.

I leave tomorrow for a turkey hunt in the Arkansas Ozarks. And, right now, I'm pretty much freaking out.

It's taken me all evening to pack. I keep getting interrupted with pregnancy symptoms.

Fold up my camo. Stop to rest. Throw my street clothes in the washing machine. Rest. Fold the rest of my camo.

Eat a few grapes while I watch an expose of Brittany Spears' most shocking year ever. Move my clothes to the dryer. Take a little nap.

How in the heck am I going to turkey hunt all day!?! I can't even make the hike from the laundry room to my bedroom without feeling flush.

And after I pause for literally three minutes to eat dinner, (one minute to chomp down on a half slice of pizza, two minutes to allow it to come back up) my confidence in even pulling off a plane ride is shaken.

I lay in bed thinking about the next few days, and I remember that I'm hunting with friends. Women who have been there, done the pregnancy thing. And guys with families of their own. I'm sure they'll forgive my temporary lack of agility and aversion to certain foods. Up until I puke on their decoys...