I will start with a turkey hunting story.

I woke up at four o’clock, anxious to go huntin. It is the openin day of the Spring Turkey Season. I crawled out of bed and got dressed and then walked to the kitchen and poured me a bowl of cereal. After about three bowls of cereal I walked outside to my garage and gathered up my huntin gear. I threw it in my truck and got in. I was so anxious to get out in the woods that I had forgot my gun on my gun rack. I went back in the house and grabbed my gun, walked outside and got back in the truck. I left the house at about 4:30 a.m.
I am headed to my favorite spot in El Paso, Arkansas. I got to the gate of my huntin club, called Gophers Huntin’ Club, and got out and unlocked the gate. I drove in and locked the gate behind me. Camp rules. I parked my truck, grabbed all my gear, and began walking to where my blind was set up. It was set up in a place me and my cousin Justin named “Butterfly Meadows”. It was a cold, foggy April mornin with dew on the grass. Rabbits hopped back and forth across the trail. An owl hooted off in the distance. After a long, tiring walk I made it to my blind. I sat my bag and gun down beside me. I reached in my bag and got out my turkey calls and waited for the sun to rise. After about a good twenty minute wait the first signs of the sun begin to show. As it rises I watch the dew glisten and sparkle on the grass of the meadow and in the leaves of the trees. The fog gradually recedes into the backwoods like a ghost into the night. And then, the first call of the spring rings through the air. A gobbler slams off in the distance. Startled, I reach for my calls to respond back to him. I sounded off with a few light yelps. He hammered back at me. I called again and he instantly responded. I stopped for a minute but he continued to gobble. But now there was one problem. He was walking away. I called to him and he called back but did not show any interest in turning around. I then knew that this was going to be the most challenging and most exciting turkey hunt I have ever had.
There I sat, confused at why this turkey was walking away from me. I devised a plan on how to get him. I know this camp like the back of my hand. So I packed my gear once again and started down the four-wheeler trail that cuts across the meadow and disappears into the woods. I walked about a half mile through the woods when the trial finally met with another one at the outlet of the woods into a big field. I stopped there and called. He gobbled about six-hundred yards in front of me but I wasn’t gonna set up there. He was still goin away from me. I walked another quarter of mile to where I last heard him gobble and I stopped and called again. This time he gobbled about a quarter of a mile directly across from me. I thought to myself, directly across from me is my duck hunting swamp. What in the hell would he be doin there. I called one more time to double check that he was there and he called back. Now, confident that I knew where he was, I made my way towards the swamp. It was getting hot. I shedded some clothes to cool myself off. I have already walked about a mile and a half but I was determined to get this turkey. So I walked some more. I walked about another half a mile when I came to a four-wheeler trail that ran directly in front of the swamp. The four-wheel trail runs parallel with the swamp and about one hundred and fifty yards in front of it. I stopped and called. He gobbled and it sounded like he was in the swamp. I called again and he called right back. I waited a few minutes and called one more time. This time there was no answer. So I tried again and again he didn’t call back. A turkey hunters worst fear is when a turkey becomes silent. Some fear that you have lost him. Others believe that the fun is just getting started. I’m one of the ones that goes for the silence. I believe that sometimes, silence is the essence of a trophy. So I decided to walk a little further and set up. I walked down the trail and walked all the way to the edge of the swamp. I set up in the field facing a corner where the pines and the swamp came together. I trail comes out of that corner also. I set up my decoys and crouched down in the brushy field. I called and finally he called back. I did a fast cut n’ yelp and he gobbled again and this time he was headed straight for me. “I did it, I have turned him around”! I thought to myself. So I did a couple of soft yelps but this time he did not answer. I tried it again but still no response. So the waiting game was on. I knew he was on his way. It was just a matter of time. After waiting about ten minutes, I called. He hammered not even twenty yards in front of me making the hair jump off my head. As I watched the corner closely I saw the red, white and blue of his face and then his huge beard. He came struttin’ out of that corner like there was no tomorrow. I called and he slammed. It was the best feeling ever. The biggest adrenaline rush I have ever experienced. Shaking with excitement I grabbed my gun and steadied the sights on his head. I took a deep breath. It seemed like at that time everything went silent, everything stood still. Like a pause in time. I was so concentrated on that bird. I could feel my heart pounding. Nothing was stopping me now. It was perfect….I pulled the trigger and the ring of the gun sounded and the turkey ran and fell. It tried to get back up but I shot again. It desperately tried one more time but I shot again and it stayed down this time. I was literally jumpin with joy. I calmed myself and laid my gun down and walked towards the turkey. I got to him and picked him up. To my surprise he started beating his wings. He almost beat me to death with them! I carried him to the spot I was sitting and stupid me, not realizing that it steel had some strength to run, I threw him on the ground. He got up and took off into the brier thicket beside me and I immediately jumped into the thicket on top of him. I grabbed him by his feet, another mistake, and he started spurring me...ouch! I grabbed him by the neck and I had a death grip on him. I held him there until his head drooped over and finally I knew he was dead. I couldn’t think of any other way. I didn’t want to blow his head off at point blank. So I choked em’. I got back to my spot and measured his beard. Ten and a half inches! I measured the spurs and they was a half an inches! I was pleased.
I packed my gear and began to walk back with the bird over my shoulder. I walked maybe two hundred yards and I was already tired. The turkey was too heavy. I hid him in some bushes and walked back to camp to get my truck. I finally got there. I was exhausted. I threw my gear in the truck and drove to pick up my bird. I got to him and loaded him in the back. I drove to the nearest check in station which was of highway five and checked him in. He ended up weighing 25 and some odd pounds. I was satisfied and headed for my house.
As you can tell, I don’t use a four-wheeler when I’m turkey hunting. Walking is much better. You have to hear every noise that turkey makes and know where it is coming from. All in all I probably walked five and a half to six miles chacin that turkey that day. And it was damn well worth it too. Turkey hunting is a great experience and I encourage everyone to give it a try and try their hardest at it. You will succeed and get a trophy turkey. Just don’t quit. If its one thing I learned from the experience, you can’t give up. A hunter hunts because he knows that he helps in preserving and conserving wildlife habitat and population. They hunt because it’s a passion and obsession. HUNTING is the answer and HUNTERS don’t quit. So give it a shot, no pun intended.

i think my favorite story ( also kinda embarassing) was last yrs jr. turkey hunt here in PA. i woke up at about 3:45. i had a cup of coffee, cuz thats all my nerves would allow me to. i got dressed, then me, my buddy & his brother headed to the woods. on the way, it kinda started to drizzle. we sat down, and within 5 minutes it started to POUR. it was really coming down. the bad part was that i had forgot my raincoat at home, so i got soked to the bone. i was so wet, that i could barely breathe through my face mask. at first light, my friend started to call. after 15 or 20 minutes, in the distance, about 80yds away, we saw one fly down. that when they really hit it. nothing worked. after sitting there for another 45 min or so, we got up to check some hemlocks. nothing. so, we headed back to the house to head into town to get breakfast & gas. we were on the main road, and my friend looked out into a pasture as we were going by and in it was a HUGE flock of turkeys. we slammed on the brakes and turned around. we stopped at every house to see if the person owned it. finally we found the guy. he told us to go ahead and hunt it whenever we wanted to. so we got on all our wet gear, and ran into the woods. we set up, and my friend hit his crow call. FIVE gobblers from the field started gobbling like crazy. one was even starting to come in, but he was still 100 yds away, on the other side of brush, so me and my friend moved up, and left the calling to his brother. we got all set up & ready, we signaled for him to call. he was using his mouth call, and as luck would have it, he was so shook up from the gobbling that all that came out was a squeak. needless to say those turkeys turned tail & took off. so, that ended that spot. we piled back into his car ( a little mitubishi eclipse with 3 people doesnt work very well). we got breakfast and headed back home. my friends bro decided that he was done for the day so the two of us headed back out. we were standing on the porch, and my friend hit his box call. around us, i heard 4 different gobblers. one was only about 400 yds away across the road. we ran over and got set up. he called, and the two gobblers hammered. another set of quiet calls was all it took. within 10 min they were right in front of us, about 20yds away. my friend called again, just so i could feel the rumble. as they gobbled, their heads lined up perfectly, but unfortunately we aren't alloweed taking 2 gobblers. so, i waited. and waited , and waited ( i was kinda in gobbler shock). i waited until they started to shock gobble, by then my friend was getting ready to shoot. he was wispering "shoot, shoot, they're gonna run" so, i pulled up and shot at the jake. ( by this point they were about 10min. using a 20ga, with x-full choke, it was either a make or break shot) i missed cleanly. at that range, it was like shooting a rifle with a bead sght. they started to run, and i kept shooting till they were no longer in site. the one bird was an old tom with a 12 in beard and probably about 1 1/2 spurs. what i said after this, i cant really repeat on this site without getting banned for a long, long time. well, i kept spouting for the next 1/2 hour, before i cooled down. that was the end of that day, since we are only allowed hunting till noon here. boy was i pi**ed after that. i dont think i can ever live that down.

but, i kinda made up for it the next time i went out. i killed a jake with a 4 1/2 in beard, and 1/4 in. spurs. i got it at about 7:30.

Those are both awesome storys im to tired to type one of mine out so ill do it tomrrow GREAT stories.

those are some great stories. i remember when you came to my house to show me that gobbler (countrymudder) and i started trippin and wanted you to take me out there so i could get one. oh well hopefully this year you can take me and call me up a big gobbler

I think the best story i have is when i shot my first elk. Me and my dad were walking up this hill along a cut line and when we got to the top we look and the bottom of the hil and there are two mulie bucks standing there. So i grab my call and start grunting and they both answer beack right away and start to walk up the hill towards us. Neither of us had a tag but we figured we would have a little fun with them. They walked to within about 75 yds of us then suddenly they stopped put their noses in the air and bolted so we figured they smelt us. So we continue on along this cutline that runs along the top of this hill then suddenly out from under this pile of logs that is about 10 yds of comes running out a black bear right at us and there was still a fence between us and the bear. Suddenly the bear stops about 5 yds from us and stares at us and both of us have our guns up ready to shot it but it must have just been kicked for its mom because it wasnt full grown but i wasnt no cub. So it runs off and we continue on to this other cut line that runs ud and over the hill. My dad looks down one side and i look down the other then suddenly i thought the bear was coming back at me because there was banging and crashing through the trees coming right at me then suddenly about 6 elk run along the cut line but i wasnt able to get a shot off. Then i look about 150 yds down the hill and see a elk standing there. It vitals were covered by a baby spruce but i figured i would take the shot and hope the bullet will blow through the tree. Oh it did and about 3 mins later i finally dropped and rolled down the hill. And thats my exciting story.

mine would have to be my first duck a banded mallard drake

me and my friend got up at 5:30 on a cold wensday morning we ate breakfast and walked to a feild in front of a swamp at shooting time a wood duck flew over my friend killed him then about 20 minutes later a drove of 20 mallards flew over i shot 3 times and hit him all 3 times he turned to be banded about 45 minutes from where we were hunting but to me thats just plain lucky

countrymudder you have been with me for all of my stories