I absolutely did not remember the road being this rough.
Not full of mud holes and worry about getting stuck rough, but just rocky plain old rough. I tried to go as easy as I could and held on to the wheel as the old truck crawled over one rock after another.
Looking out the window, even in the darkness, I could tell this was all bordering on madness. The trees were whipping in what had to be a 30 mph wind. Any turkeys in the vicinity would only be thinking of holding on this morning; gobbling could wait. (You guessed it: I never heard a peep.)
Somehow, I don't know how, I managed to do it. The first morning of Virginia's spring turkey hunting season, and I was able to go from horizontal to vertical and stumble around camp trying to get ready. I had prepared as much as I could the night before, laying out everything I could think of so I could just get up, gulp coffee, put on and grab everything I needed (and didn't), and get out the door. Driving blurry-eyed before the coffee has kicked in at these evil, dim, misty hours concerns me more than it used to, but I still go.
We have talked about all this before. Spring turkey hunting involves being in the woods before daylight, standing at your listening place so you may hear his first gobbles after he wakes up and has his first cup of coffee.
There is no doubt a big tactical advantage in being there early. If you hear the gobbler on the roost, the standard procedure is to scramble as quickly as possible to his neighborhood and get set up to have a conversation. If the planets all line up, you may be able to entice him with your plaintive hen calls (I notice that hunting writers are using that word a lot lately), and hopefully he will walk in and get decently shot.
Hope those of you having your coffee and Cheerios don't mind me saying it like that, but that is what happens, right? Let's not sugarcoat things if we don't have to.
(READ MORE: Keeping it quiet when we should be keeping it real)
Turkey hunters know all this. Most of us want to be there when the first little tweety bird sings, and a few minutes later we hear the crazy, raucous sound of a wild turkey gobble. It is really what gets us out there, it is why we endure all of that early morning torture, the getting up in the middle of night and braving the roads in the dark, dodging deer and opossums with a death wish.
Sometimes there is a long walk from the truck to get to our listening place, which means we have to be there even earlier. A 45-minute walk in the dark is not uncommon. This is just one of the things that turkey hunters must endure to chase this crazy, wonderful bird.
Or is it?
As noted, there is an advantage in getting to the turkey while he is still on the roost. We like to call him right off the roost and take him for a truck ride as we go to town or back to camp for biscuits and gravy.
(READ MORE: Good morning from the roost limb in the turkey woods)
But — and that is a big but — how many times does it work out differently during the morning?
Often what happens is the gobbler rejects our invitation to get together and walks away after gobbling just enough to leave us in a confused, frustrated state. We cannot comprehend how he could resist our calling. The reason, of course, is quite simple. The gobbler is usually in the company of several of his old girlfriends, and he is not about to leave them to come over and talk to the mysterious hen calling to him a couple hundred yards away.
Hours later, however, this turkey will part company from those hens and may very well be agreeable to coming to your calls. This routinely happens in a morning of turkey hunting. We know this and almost expect it to happen. We know if we come upon a turkey gobbling a lot in the middle of the morning, there is a very good chance we might get to meet him.
So why do we always have to go through all that rigmarole of the early morning stress of dragging out of bed, driving in the predawn darkness, and risk running into grouchy werewolves as they come off the night shift?
I don't think we do.
I know that is a shocker for some of you, and old-time turkey hunters will probably excommunicate me for saying it. What is wrong with sleeping in, going out at a more civilized hour and having a coffee as you leisurely drive to your spot?
No brain fog from lack of sleep, you can drive the roads safely, the neurotic deer and opossums have all gone home, and the werewolves — well, you know they are not out in the daytime. It is a win-win situation.
OK, there is my theory for the 9:30 a.m. gobbler. You can berate me, but don't act like you have never thought of it before.
Best of luck, and watch out for those crazed opossums.
"Guns & Cornbread" is written by Larry Case, who lives in Fayette County, W.Va. You can write to him at larryocase3@gmail.com.