Yes, it was a beautiful morning inspite of the potential for rain. When the alarm went off at 4:30 a brief thought of remaining in bed crossed my mind. I fought the erge because I told myself I'd hunt every morning this season, especially because I had a bird that was giving me fits. I've been as close as 22 yards to this bird without pulling the trigger. I'm convinced it was the other bird of the two we pulled in for and shot filming the WNEP PA Outdoor Life show. This bird was the strutter of the two. I knew the area, I knew where he liked to roost and he taught me that he liked to go down the hollow. I've set up on him several times, having him respond with earnst but never to reveal himself except for that opening morning and the first week encounter at 22 yards with my friends barrel pointing the wrong way. It was a matter of time.
That prompted me to drag myself out of bed yet again. I was up and around early and not having a phone call the night before told me I was on my own. No camera man this morning, no other to be the gunner so it was my turn. I was around plenty early so I sat on the front porch pondering my strategy. He usually heads down the drainage when you call so I decided to set up below him, down the drainage. I snuck in easy enough because the prior nights rain kept everything soft. I nestled against a tree I've sat at before only to have him skirt me but I knew this was his haunt. I sat quiet, layed my head back, closed my eyes and drifted of earlier hunts for this particular bird. I was awaken by his tremendous gobble and I opened my eyes and smiled. I looked up the hill towards the distubance and said, "hello ole friend. "
Light filtered through the trees slowly this mornind due to the overcasting clouds. He continued his morning announcments letting everything within ear shot know, he is the king of spring. Yearning, I fought off the earge to call until he decided on his morning routine. Once off the roost he oddly headed down the hill but up the drainage. I've heard him do this before only to have me close our distance, call and have him walk right past me thundering down the drainage. All he needed to do was pick his head up on more than one occassion. I let him think he was set when I softly yelped a few notes from my River Valley Game Call's Sweet Talker mouth call. It was not unlike him to clam up. Suddenly he responded and he was closing in on my location. A few yelps more and he was above me. The Mossberg 835 was set on fire and the breathing increased. Another gobble but to my right and up the hill, the monarch is going to skirt me again. Frusteration sets in as I turn slowly to my right. I know he's right there in the Mt. Laurel, just pick your head up, comon, comon.....
Another gobbler farther down the drainage, darn that didn't take him long to cover that ground and I spin yet again around the tree. Putting the gun on safe, I yelp.....nothing....I cut..ah there you are but farther yet away from my location. I settle the gun on my leg and relaxed, collected my anxiousness and listened.....Is that a hen? Goobbblellleee. Well I know what I must do.....yelp yelp yelp yelp.....bick bick bick bick bick bick bick....goobblbnlnlee.
I have his attention! I sit silent.............same cadence...gobbblbllblee.e
He's coming....I sit, I wait...he lets loose, I softly yelp....comon, comon...a head..no don't shoot it's hen, comon, comon....I close my right eye as she passed me at 3 yards...comon, keep your composure, breath through your nose...calm, calm.....she passes by......gobboblblllee..e. Oh he has to be right there......ssppttttt ddddoooommmm....comon......a white head, a fan...comon pick your head up, pick your head up.......click, gun's ready, comon, steady, steady....booooom!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I honestly believe this is the other bird that came in with the one we shot on the show. He's haunted me the last 2 weeks and we've had close encounters other mornings. I love hunting a particular bird, a vendetta if you will...matching wits and this morning if it wasn't for that pretty little hen, this may have been another story but alas, my shell had his name on it....He's roughly a 20 lb 3 year old bird, roughly 10" beard and an easy 1" spur with curls.....I haven't taken any meaurements for the contest yet but will after work. I hustled to get pictures taken and head to work. Tonight he will get scored and then dropped off at the taxidermist for my 3rd bird mount. I have a half strut gobblin off the limb, a flying mount that I need to pic up from last season and this one will either be a full strut or standing upright.
Pictures to follow as well. 
Black Hawk Down for Team 3.(now w/ pics)
