HuntingNet.com Forums - The Party Crasher

I awoke one May morning to the sound of spring toms gobbling in my head that harshly morphed into the sound of the buzz that only my alarm clock can make. It was D-Day. Time for me to prep for the morning's events that have yet to play themselves out. My normal cup of Joe was all that I could think of besides the millions of scenarios that were playing in my mind of what's to come that morning. I sat there, sipping my coffee preparing mentally for the battle that's to come.

Now you see, I'm not much of a morning person. But come May I suddenly shift gears and transform into someone I'm normally not. I like mornings, I embrace the sound of my otherwise annoying alarm clock and I actually don't want to "relax" on Sundays anymore. I'm a turkey hunter and this Jekyll and Hyde affliction captures me.... and I appreciate it.

As I leave and the door shuts behind me, the heart skips a beat or two and the adrenaline now takes over the caffeine that's flowing through my veins. The gear is all packed and I'm ready to hit the road.

I'm driving now, thinking of that bird I've been chasing after over the past few days. That bird has gotten the better of me a time or two and we have yet to be cordially introduced. How rude. I think today will be the day I introduce a load of shot to this gobbler's head and I won't be looking for a formal invitation. I'm gonna crash his party.

Seems as if this guy has quite the security when you're not invited. He's always toting an entourage everywhere he goes making it difficult even for the most advanced party crasher to slip through the cracks. No, this is not going to be easy, but with a little bit of finesse and well laid planning I might just be able to breach his lines of defense.

There's a dress code for this event. Luckily I have prepared myself for such an instance and am wearing my best suit. Yep, my camouflage pattern will blend in nicely, might even go completely unseen and unnoticed. The party will start approximately at sunrise and I need to get there well in advance. I'll have to choose my position by the seating arrangement mother nature has provided for this party. A nice big old Oak will do the trick and hopefully no other party crashers have already chosen my seat.

I get to the place where the party is to be held and find my seat available for me to sit and wait. Kinda quiet right now. Seems as if nobody is here yet. Oh, but they are... the guests are all there. The security guards are there and the man of the hour is soon to announce his arrival and presence. This is gonna be one hell of a party!

At first light the festivities begin and are right on schedule. The beautiful morning rays of light start to break through the limbs of the trees around me. The guests in all black tuxedos caw in the distance. They are the crows that announce the dawn of a new day. Their chatter and noisy conversation between them at the start of this party begins to put the security guards on full alert. They are the hens that secure the roost. Their watching eyes study their surroundings looking for potential danger down below. They stretch their wings in preparation for fly down. "5:30 a.m. and all's well!" is what is said as a few soft tree yelps come from their direction. The other security guards reply.

I'm sitting there patiently, waiting to see what happens next. And then the man of the hour sounds off on his limb announcing his presence to the surrounding party goers. "I am here, let the festivities begin" is what is said as he gobbles for the first time of this magical morning. Today is going to be my day I silently say to myself with a slight smile on my face.

The security guards fly down to the dance floor that will serve as the man of the hour's strut zone. Excited cackles and yelps fill the room of the great outdoors and get the big boy to respond. He gobbles again, and then again and then one more time for good measure... he's such a drama queen!

My attire for the event must be working because I have gone completely unnoticed and am blending with my surroundings. The security guards have walked right by me and I'm feeling like 007.... Bond, James Bond. As the security guards pass me by they fill themselves on the party platter of insects and berries... a feast fit for a king. As they fill themselves a loud crashing and banging on the limbs from the roost of the man of the hour tells me that.... he has arrived!

The dance floor is calling him, well actually I'm calling him to it. A few deceiving yelps and purrs is all I needed to convince him that this was where the party is at. Being the showoff that he is, he decided to take up that invitation and "strut" his stuff. And as if on cue he puffs up in display of all his beautiful iridescent plumage and calls the ladies to come join him. His courtship will only last but a few moments.

I disguise myself as the D.J. now and am playing the last song on my mouth call. He dances. He shows why he's the man of the hour and I almost.... ALMOST don't want to end this. But all parties must come to an end. So when I end my last song I take a mental picture of this most memorable event and take aim. He drops his strut and looks around wondering what happened to the music? The security guards are on full alert and something is not right. He stretches his neck to look to see what has happened and at that very moment... the millisecond before the hammer drops, I think of how thankful I am for not being personally invited to the event. This is what I do. I crash parties. I am a turkey hunter.

-"The Gob-Father"