The (patience-is-a-virtue) light bulb went off for me a few decades ago. I was headed back to the truck mid-morning in Richmond Co, VA, andwoke upa bird with a cutt. I quietly set up on the edge of a hollow across from him,and crankedit up. We couldn't have been more than 150 yds apart. Although the gobbling intensified, the tomwas determinednot to cross the very steep hollow, thick with mountain laurel, andstayed in his strut lane. Hekept pleading for me to join him with deep, resonating double and triple gobbles. I sat there wondering what to do, with an eye on the clock (12 noon closing time). I let things quiet down, and decided I'd cross the hollow above him, and sneak down the ridge his way - I knew the layout of the land and had good landmarks. I backed away, and did a wide loop as planned;45+ minutes later, still 30 minutes of shooting time left, I gave a soft yelp - yep, he gobbled across the hollow, right where I had been sitting. Time to go home, never forgot that lesson...[&:]

-fsh