Today's Hunt: This morning before work, I took out an old buddy of mine to a place that I've had really good luck. This guy's only ever gotten one gobbler, and I called that one for him three years ago. Anyway, I knew this place was a chicken coop, so I was optomistic.

In order to get into the fields, you have to walk through the woods and right under some roost trees, so we left the vehicle early (5 a.m.). We had the dekes out by 5:20, and were hunkered up against a big wild cherry tree picking our noses and waiting for daylight. I took a big pee while we waited. The fog was so thick, you'd swear you could cut it with a knife.

By 5:45, there were birds going off everywhere - about a dozen within earshot. We had a major league Tom to our left at about 125 yards, and a gaggle of jakes behind us to the left at maybe 200. I gave some clucks and flew out twicewith my hat at 6 sharp (I had 2 decoys down). The acoustics in that foggy hollow were fantastic.

The gobblers hung around in the tree until 6:15 before pitching down. Things goteerily quiet for the next5 minutes. I just kept quiet, clucking and purring away, when all of a sudden, a hen starts freaking out to our left. BOOM, the bruiser hammers back to her - he's on the ground and was headed our way. Man, what a throaty gobble on that guy...Sheheads out the other way, Tom in tow. I sadly clucked out a few more purrs, almost admitting defeat.

Just then... GOBBLE OBBLE - Double jake gobble -100 yardsout ahead to our left- back in business! They're just jakes, but who cares. My buddy just wants a turkey, and he'll be happier than a pig in mud with a jake. A few minutes later, two black balls appear in the mistyfog, moving from left to right, heading up the hill our way- they still can't see the decoy. A couple purrs and they see the dekes. They've officially committed at this point.

My buddy (who is this really big guy) has one of those big guy voices, and he hasn't turkey hunted all that much... He starts breathing real heavy, and keeps asking me "which one should I shoot?" "Which one's bigger?" "When do I shoot?"

"Shut up." "Shhhhh." "Shoot whatever one you want" I whisper.

The turkeys have now emerged from the fog and are standing at about 40 yards, working their way in - they let out a good gobble together, and I think "Well, one of you two, that's officially your last gobble."

By this point, I've turned a deaf ear to the heavy breathing and the quaking guy sitting next to me. Out of the corner of my eye, I see him start to fidget,the barrel of his gun wobbles about 4 inches to the right, and he lowers his cheek onto the stock for the shot. He shifts from one buttcheek to the other. Click. "Which one do I...." "PUTTTTTT" "PUTTTTTT"

The birds start squirming around, stretching their periscopes.

"You better shoot now, or you're not gonna get to..."

BOOOOM

....and there they were.... gone....

It was a pretty clean miss - 35 yards on the nose.

Man, I'd have given anything to see him get one of those jakes. I always try to tell him that he's a little too loud and moves too much. I guess he'll listen now. What a fun hunt.