# 330 degrees of Separation



## zettler (Sep 7, 2002)

*330 degrees of Separation
By Bob Zettler
May 5, 2008*

_According to Wikipedia, "six degrees of separation" refers to the idea that, if a person is one step away from each person he or she knows and two steps away from each person who is known by one of the people he or she knows, then everyone is an average of six "steps" away from each person on Earth._

"What a rotten, crappy day," I was saying to myself as I walked along the deer trail when all of sudden I came face-to-face, no; I mean face to body with a headless turkey!

Let me back up a little as this tale encompasses three days in May and culminated on "Cinco de Mayo" here in west-central Illinois where I have been chasing turkeys most of the past 22 years. Saturday was the pits. I left home at 3:50 AM for the 60 minute drive to my friend's farm across the Illinois River and just three miles up Route 4# a State Trooper puts on his headlights and pulls in behind me - I was going 59 MPH. I silently begin to swear and pray while he is obviously checking me out via my license plate and seeing if I make any driving errors for the next three miles before he turns off and back to traffic duty. Maybe my Dark Cloud is changing, or, with a license plate that says "IL HNTR 2" instead of "SMK DP2" led him to conjecture I might be a hunter on his way to chasing turkeys and not a doper heading to Denny's&#8230;

Next, I am just outside of Springpatch when a deer almost walks in front of me. Dodge another bullet. However, I am still wondering what the Heck is wrong with the weather service as my computer said the forecast was 20+ MPH winds where I was headed and it was calm when I walked out the door. Well that changed another 10 miles down the road and I began to be buffeted by the strong winds that were sure to spoil my first day afield for the fourth season - I had missed the first two days due to work!

I arrive at my spot and pull into the parking area of a building across from my farm to change into my gear and when I back up to park down the road, my rear tires go over the edge and right into a mud hole. Now I am stuck and throwing mud everywhere with my 2WD 1991 Blazer - I am PO'ed!!! At least I was able to finally break free by backing up after a few minutes but my temperament was already shot. Decided to park in the middle of the eastern edge of the farm and hope to hear anything but with winds exceeding 20 MPH you couldn't even hear yourself fart - or smell it.

I spent the rest of the morning walking and calling all over the farm looking for sign and listening for birds. At 9 AM I saw a black one walk right across the field I had just left to the first spot I had set up on - my Dark Cloud. At 10 AM I heard two single gobbles about 5 minutes apart and that was it. I quit at 12:30 and was going to look for Morels but in my 6+ miles of hiking along the field edges, in the bottoms, along the ridges and the like, I only found one peckerhead and NO Morels, so I went home to nap.

Sunday was a new day and I had no issues making it there before 5 AM. Got dressed in the same spot, avoided the mud hole, and as I was headed to my parking spot in the middle, I see two trucks parked in the first field! Oh noooooo! Did I screw up and the landowner had guests - he has been so very kind to me by allowing me to hunt there these past several years and I hadn't talked to him since he said get a permit back in the Fall so anything could have happened. What to do, what do?

I head to his house at the north end and he is not up yet so I decide to limit myself to the small portion behind his home where I heard several birds but they were on the other side of the property line. However, I decide to see if I can entice them out of their woods, across the pasture and to the property line - am I up to it? I set myself about 20 yards from the fence line and on the other side of the creek where I have an excellent field of fire and begin to call. He fires back. This repeats itself for awhile and then all of a sudden these cows begin to head my way and line up along the fence and stare at me! Now I have a dozen cows all lined up and staring at me - not the audience I anticipated or desired.

Well, that old boy who I had heard the first season scouting stayed in his new domain and I decided to head back towards my car and have a meet with the landowner to see if I had screwed up. It was easy walking as I had found this four-lane deer trail that you have to see to believe. This was a Heck of a ridge, but as I was walking along side of it instead of straight up, my lungs were relieved and I wasn't wheezing my last breaths. Yet, even though it was pretty quiet what with little wind and just those cows nearby - and they weren't talking - I decided to go slow and as stealthy as I could just in case I could catch a glimpse of any birds nearby. Not a quiet Indian stealth but fairly close for an overweight, out-of-shape XXL kind of guy!

And then, just 15 or so yards straight ahead of me on the trail was this head/neckless Turkey!! My first thought is I have come across another hunter and his decoy's head has fallen off since it was obviously a stuffer - a taxidermied bird. I mean I was 15 yards away and had my gun up on it but there was no head or neck and it wasn't moving. It looked black at first but then as I looked it all over I could not find any spurs or beard just the body and tail feathers fanned out behind it. And then the tail feathers moved and I freaked without moving! Where the Heck was this hunter and why was he (or she) messing with me? This goes on for a full 30 seconds until all of a sudden from the left side (away from me), a head and neck appears and I see I have walked up on a live WILD turkey Hen! It looks around and proceeds after a few seconds to saunter off on down the hillside to spend some quality time with his bovine buddies in the pasture below and he NEVER saw, heard or recognized me. Amazing, simply amazing - and memorable!

I finally made it back up to my Blazer and dropped off my gear before walking over to the landowner's home to check on things. Tom came on out and he was surprised I didn't know who the trucks belonged to as one of them was George Moons and the other was his brother Ed. You see, Ed had invited George's son-in-law over to hunt and Corey sometimes drives George's old truck and the two of them had been hunting the far south end of the farm, an area I have never hunted. As Tom and I continue to chat and visit over the next hour, up pulls Corey and then the three of us exchange stories and I learn of how close Corey had come to harvesting his first bird that morning. You see they had set up decoys and a ground blind but the two Gobblers just wouldn't finish and oh-so-close they were!

Anyway, we decide to get together in the future and I was headed back for a final hunt the next morning on Cinco de Mayo - and this time I had decided to bring out the decoys! And as I still hadn't seen a single Morel, I went on home and napped so I would be as fresh as possible for one more go for it in the morning as it was suppose to be another mild day with plenty of sunshine and little wind - my favorites! I did urge Corey to see about coming back as I knew if he could be patient and stick it out, he could connect, but it all depended on schedules. Amazing how George still impacts my hunting, isn't it!

Anyway, same routine as the prior two days and I am there at my changing station at 4:55 AM and ready by 5:10 AM but hadn't heard a bird from my vantage point overlooking the farm. Remember, this is fairly long rectangular farm and I usually hunt the middle to the far north end while Cory and Ed had been hunting the south third, an area I have never explored. And as I had not heard a bird, I decide to hang in the middle and near the pond to listen for birds and the first ones sound off just after 5:30 AM but they sounded like they were on the other side of the property and in that south third - an area I hadn't been through. I did hear a couple of birds once again north of Tom's home but they had to be my bovine buddies and out of reach. And as there were four sounding off in the far south edge, I decide to at least give it a go&#8230;

I had made it a third of the way there when I began to have second (and third) thoughts as I was running out of breath and it was all up hill. And when I heard two birds sound off just past the pond and to the west, I decided I knew that area and went to set up there along the edge of the field in a finger I had been last year and the year before. Placed B-Mobile, a Jake and a Hen about 20 paces away in the field and set my cargo down against a small scrub tree. They then quit at 6 AM and everyone was quiet. God, I hate my Dark Cloud!

The silence continued for nearly 45 minutes until I heard two sound off south of me but they sounded closer and on Tom's property or at least I hoped so. Decisions, decisions! I decide to pull the decoys and see about hoofing it way up there as it was about a 350 yard hike but the birds sounded much, much farther than that. Now, I thought about just setting up sans decoys as I have only ever killed a couple of birds while using them and debated what to do all the way there. However, the lay of the land looked promising and I could place them 30 paces out which would make them extremely visible from the field and the woods edge. Each one was maybe just a couple of yards apart and B-Mobile was using the tail feathers from the Tom I killed last year.

I am an aggressive hunter and most times like to set my butt down well within a 100 yards of a bird I am going to work and many times far less than that. But this time I wasn't quite sure if these birds had crossed the ravine or were on our side at all, so I was simply winging it the best I could and get as close as I could get without going into some woods I am not familiar with. Went back to the spot I had chosen as it afforded me a full 180 degree field of fire into the field and extremely limited into the woods behind me - EXTREMELY LIMITED!

I usually hunt with a vest but also wear a fanny belt-pack to carry most of my calls and gear. It holds at least two box calls, five or so friction calls, locator calls, extra shells (just a couple), face paint, strikers and the like. I clear a small space around me facing into the field and take out the two box calls and one slate GPS (Gobbler Positioning System) slate call. As I felt any bird was well over 150 yards away, I just go ahead an give a few quick Yelps not expecting much in return&#8230;and a Tom ERUPTED not 50 yards away behind me and to my right!!! Son-of-a-b&#8230;..

How off can you get in estimating how far a bird is&#8230;well, it is beyond me! In any case, I had to decide what to do. I waited a few minutes to see if he was still in the same spot or had moved and as luck would have it he had moved - he had moved towards me! I knew I had to do a 180 and now face into the woods in the hope I would get a chance if he presented a shot but I now discover the woods were thicker than the hair on my&#8230;!!

Once again, I am an aggressive hunter but when you have a working bird like this who is obviously moving closer and closer from what is now my left to my right (potentially), I like to go quiet and get him to hunt me, so I am not calling much at all now and it has only been few minutes or so since he came back at me! I see these woods are really thick and as the sun was so low in the east across the field from me, the shadows it created did not assist my trying to see him without alerting him to my presence. And he was gobbling, not continuously but every minute or so, and then, there, I see a glimpse of his pale blue-white head as he walks through an opening just head-sized in front and slightly to my left. Then again a few yards closer and almost in front of me.

Now I am really in trouble as the two shooting holes I had he had already passed and was now passing by the 180 degree mark from where I had been situated facing the field. Plus, my shot was blocked by the trees covering that last 90 degrees before he could possibly enter the field from my right side - and I am a right-handed shooter! Once he passes the 220 degree arc I have to not only move my gun back and around the trees I had been leaning up against but I have to make a critical adjustment - I had to scoot away from the tree and sit out in the open a couple of feet from the tree I had used as a backstop! That is not the worst as remember Mike, the headless turkey from the day before? I knew I could freeze and blend in with my leaf suit camo with the best of them but if he popped out to my right, I would have to somehow shoulder the Beretta at a 90 degree angle to the same side, an almost impossible task for even a human pretzel let alone me!

Now it had only been 7 or 8 minutes since he first responded and I had now completed a 270 degree arc for my original point of impact from where I set up for and without any fanfare there he was just 18 yards away and right out in the open on the edge of the field with me leaning backwards at a 45 degree angle and my Extrema 2 still laying on the ground but at least pointing in his general direction. Talk about a situation! Do I bring the shotgun up quickly and try for the shot before he could run back into the woods? Do I somehow shoulder the shotgun as fluidly as I can and try and catch him even though his right eye is sure to catch any movement since he is less than 20 yards away? No chance to argue as his wattles start to glow bright red and he starts trotting out into the field and making turkey sounds - clucks, putts, or whatever the case - and I have to shoot as I think he has spotted me and boogieing out of danger. So I bring the gun as quickly but not jerkily to the side of right shoulder area (God only knows where I placed the weapon) for he isn't running away but running towards and behind me!! Here I am straining with all my strength and girth with my left arm across my body and somehow pull the trigger when he is maybe 15 yards away and see the dirt all around him explode - there is no way to consciously put a sight pin on him due to my position, his trotting and the angle of the shots - and I see he is hit but falling forward so I quickly throw the second shot at him.

Now, just the night before I made the decision to make the second shell a 3 ½" Hevi-shot #5 shell as I knew of its knockdown power but had not patterned this particular shotshell in this or any of my shotguns. Was I worried? Heck no, I had no time to worry just time to think and act! And you know what, that second shot just waxed his azz! In the replays I went over in my mind I could see how he was hit and not down with the first shot. And for only the third time I can recall in my age and alcohol dimmed mind I had to pull the trigger a second time where I am so glad it was with Hevi-shot as it was a head AND body shot that absolutely sealed the deal. He had blood pumping out from all over and only had a few death quivers left in him - shades of Richard Gere!

And you know what, after rewinding my memory tapes I now feel he wasn't alarmed and running away but when he saw that B-Mobile and the other two decoys, he got ****** and was headed out to kick its B-U-T-T and never paid the slightest attention to the fat man behind the curtain!! Yes, my shoulder area hurts tonight but ask me if I care. Here it was 7:15 AM on the Fifth of May and I had a Dandy of a bird down. He has a lush, full beard that measured a full 11-inches and sharp spurs that were just over an inch. He fell less than 20 paces away and I still cannot adequately describe how the Heck I made the shot(s)!

Now, he is a big bird and most likely three years old or so and the initial weigh-in was over 20 pounds but then Cory came by and we used Ed's new scale - he had bought it when the Taxidermist's Zebco scale sucked at weighing is trophy bird - and we discovered my "lil buddy" weighed in at just a fraction over 26 pounds!!! I was and still am shocked; plus, relieved, ecstatic, humbled and extremely proud. In addition, I now absolutely LOVE my B-Mobile! I had used the tail-feathers from my Tom last year to "flesh" him out and I firmly believe it was what made the difference as I looked back and recalled how his wattles went bright red when he saw it and was trotting fixated on the decoys allowing me to bring my Beretta to bear on him in plain sight.

I applied all that I have learned from chasing the Wild Turkey in Illinois and Missouri these past 25+ years, by myself, with former family (brother-in-law) and friends like Ryan Littrel and indirectly, George Moon again. How? Simple. George not only introduced me to the landowner and suggested where and how to hunt this farm but now through his brother Ed and George's son-in-law Corey, I hunted a new part of this farm where I scored again, and scored BIG time! And, I tried a different approach by using not only the B-Mobile but adding a Hen and a Jake to have the birds focus on them in the field and not me. I have never liked decoys as I felt too constrained by them since I like to move and get as close to a bird as I can without bumping them. And once I set my butt down, I entice them many times with just a few calls and have them hunt me but will adjust and change tactics to more aggressive calling when the situation warrants, even to the extent of using a shaker gobble call on occasion when I feel it is safe.

I know I am not a great caller and most days just do a series of yelps, with a few clucks thrown in some times, so for me it is positioning myself and enticing the birds to hunt me most times but recognizing you have to read each and every situation and adjusting every time - sometimes multiple times - in order to capitalize and try to achieve success. And while experience, location, access, and opportunity are critical, relationships are critical too.

And even though my friend George Moon has passed, he continues to live on through his brother, son-in-law, friends and through what I attained during our time together. And just like those before us, George had some body that lived on through him, so who is to say that we all aren't all related by more than just the sum of our genes but also through the sum of our experiences and relationships? Or, in this case the 330 degrees I had to turn myself around in order to connect on a real trophy of a bird&#8230;

Not exactly the "Six Degrees of (separation) Kevin Bacon" but for me and the people I know or have come to know me, life can be good when you open some doors or allow someone to open a door for you&#8230;please think about it.


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