Well, well, well. I have been gone for awhile, and for that I apologize, but I see my brothers have been taking care of business in my absence. I no longer have interent privileges at work, and that makes it very difficult for me to get in here very often, beacause let's face it, when I am at home with my beautiful woman, this place loses a little bit of its appeal. Well, here goes, grab yourself a beer, get some of Bornbad's popcorn, sit back and relax, because you aren't going to believe this one. Hell, if I hadn't done it myself, I wouldn't believe it myself. Let me set s short backdrop for explaining what happened over the past weekend. Twice during the season thus far, I have had a group of three real nice gobblers chased off of my by outside forces. One day, a freaking black lab came across the river from nowhere and chased 20 tirkeys out of the field we were hunting. The next trip down to the same field, we had 4 hens out infront of us, and the same three turks (the three wise men) were heading down the ridge behind us. The farmers cattle were coming down to the river, but due to the heavy rains the day before, the river was coming out of its banks a little and the farmer, concerned for his cattle, came down into the field on his four wheeler to chase his cattle back up the hill, and in the process chased all the birds away from us. A few other events went wrong on other hunts, and I was flat fed up with it. The three wise men changed their habits completely. Rather than roosting on that ridge, they moved about a half mile to the east. They were roosting at the edge of a draw along the bluffs over looking the river, and flying across the river in the morning only to return only to roost. I do not have permission to hunt that side of the river. I had heard these birds do the same thing two mornings in a row, and tried setting up on them the second morning, only to have them leave the roost and fly across. I had no idea what to do, when I remembered a conversation I had with my uncle earlier this year and he told me how has spent many a night sleeping in a treestand in order to hunt a good morning stand that was absolutely unapproachable in the morning. So my mind started working. I had a real good idea where these birds were roosting, so I went out in the evening, with a little bit of extra clothing and my gore-tex and intended to spend the night under a large cedar close to where they had been roosting. Well, low and behold, the birds came back across the river and to my surprise, they roosted about 20-25 yards straight down the bluff from me. I listened to them gobble a time or two before dark, and settled in for the most unusual night I have ever spent. Let me tell you, I would have felt a little better up in a tree, but I did have my shotgun with me if things got to harry. Then the freakin' rains came. No thunder or lightning, but some pretty heavy rains at times. There were a few times that I about called it quits, but I was bound and determined to stick it out. I didn't have any alarm with me, as I wasn't concerned about over sleeping, sleep was at a minimum. Well, finally things started to get light the next morning, I was soaked to the bone, and about frozen, but I had made it to far to quit now right? The birds started gobbling at a couple of barred owls. After it got light, I heard a couple of hens a little farther down the bluff, more toward the bottom of the draw. They must have flown across the river, because the first gobbler glided across behind them. Then the second joined him befoer he even hit the ground. The third bird which was the closest to me stretched out his wings and I thought he was gone, but he was just loosening up. Then he ducked his head and he lept off the branch and moved over to another tree closer to the edge. After he landed, I couldn't stand it anymore, and I shot him just as he left the branch (so not truly a limb shot)to head across the river. The bird fell right on the edge of the bluff and down he went. I jumped up form under my tree, ran down the draw, and around the finger along the base of the bluff to where I thought he should be and I heard him thrashing down the small hill toward the river. I went down the hill quickly to get him, but as I reached the edge, he hit the water and was pulled off the bank by the current and he continued to flop and splash, as he got sucked off the bank and into the river. He was pulled out and moving toward some fast moving water and he got snagged up in a freakin' log jam just above the rapids. Luckily for me, the river wasn't as high Saturday as it had been the week before, but I still had only one choice. I took off my gore-tex, and tied off the legs at the foot hole. I took off my other layers down to pants and a T-shirt and I took off my boots. I grabbed my gore tex by the waist and flung it over my head and down onto the water, thus getting some air in the pants and making a flotation device. I hopped in the river and put the legs of the pants under my arms and started swimming a ways up from where he was hung up. I got out of the moving water and was able to swim to the opposite side of the root system he was stuck in. I pulled my way over to him and finally had my bird. He had ceased flopping by now. I began to swim the side stroke with the turkey under my right arm, and finally got to the top of the moving water where I could walk and I crawled my tired

out of the river. Got back over to my stuff threw it all in my turkey vest, put it back on, and headed back up to the house. Well the bird weighed in at 21 pounds, he had 1 inch spurs, and he did have three beards. 11 inches, 5.5 inches, and 2.5 inches. Was it worth it, I'm still trying to decide. Would I do it again, maybe on a rainless night in a treestand! So there is the story you have all been waiting for. Thanks to all of my CCGC brothers for the support and congratulations on this effort. Limbshot