During the opening week of the 1991 season, I had hunted several different areas with absolutely no luck. Towards the end of the week, I decided to hunt the mountain behind a friends place & above an old cemetery. I had seen birds in the general area & hoped I could finally sweet talk 1. Well before daylight, I walked about ¾ the way up the mountain along the woods edge & old fence row before moving into the woods several hundred yards. Starting shortly before daybreak, I called off & on for a couple of hours with no response at all.
Sometime around mid-morning, I decided to try the Knight & Hale Fighting Purrs as nothing else was working. After running 3-4 “fights” over an hour or so, I spotted several birds working down the mountain towards me. I managed to set the calls down & get the 1100 up on my knee without getting spotted. They got within 30 yards or so & I found 1 with a beard. When it was in the clear, I dropped it. Before I could get up, the turkey got to its feet & I hit it again. This time it stayed down but did start to flop, a lot. I removed the last shell but, but it was flopping so much that, before I could get to him, he started to roll down the mountain. I started running after it with my left arm windmilling to keep me upright & holding the shot gun in my right hand. I was loosing ground but the bird finally rolled into a tree & stopped. We were almost at the bottom of the mountain.
After tagging the bird, a jake with a 6 ½” thick beard, I headed back up the mountain to get my seat, calls, & other odds & ends. Problem was, I couldn’t find where I had been sitting. I went back down & up again & still couldn’t find my stuff. I went back down the mountain for the 3rd time but this time went to the fence, retracing my steps from that morning. I walked directly to where I was sitting. Too bad I didn’t do that the 1st time I went looking.
This was the 1st of many birds & even more hunts & was definitely a fire-starter!!


