Pennsylvania Game News - May 2015 - 3

Crossbow ready, gobbler season would need to wait for doctor's orders.
The sky was filled with stars as I
backed down the driveway and pulled
onto the street.
I could see Orion the Hunter,
marked by those three familiar stars
that form his belt. His faithful dog,
Canis Major, followed close behind.
Perhaps glimpsing these two
hunting-related constellations would
prove a good omen for the morning
adventure for which I'd waited so long.
It was Wednesday, May 7, the
fourth morning of the 2014 spring
gobbler season, and my surgeon finally
had cleared me to head afield. I had
undergone aortic abdominal aneurysm
surgery on April 1, and I'd been
chomping at the bit for several weeks
to go hunting and fishing once again.
While the surgeon said I could
resume physical activity with no
restrictions, he stressed to me to be sure
to use common sense.
I asked if he would write a
prescription for that.
I had started driving again in midApril, and spent several mornings
each week scouting for turkeys from
my vehicle. The doc figured I was not
physically able to scout on foot, and
this continued up until the season
began.
My vehicle trips, however, helped
me to locate several turkeys, including
a big old tom with a beard that nearly
dragged on the ground. They were
spending their early mornings in a cut
cornfield that was unlike most others.
It had been harvested in the fall using
older methods. Foot-high cornstalks
remained, providing a good supply of
uncollected corn and beneficial ground
cover.
MAY 2015

I set my alarm for 4 a.m., but like
most nights when there's a specific
reason to set the alarm, I kept waking
up checking the clock just about every
hour on the hour.
Finally, the red LED light indicated
3:45 a.m., so I decided to get up, get
dressed and head out to see if the
turkeys were still using the cornfield for
their morning meals.
PPPPPP

My travel route took me to the top
of the Kittatinny Ridge, through the
Little Gap, across the Appalachian
Trail and down the north side of the
mountain into the flat farmlands of
Carbon County.
I pulled off the road and parked. It
was about a quarter-mile to the spot I
had selected to sit.
I slipped on the camo backpack
containing my two decoys, a hen
and a jake, pulled the green-webbed
adjustable seat over my left shoulder
and slung the strap of my new crossbow
over my right shoulder.
My trek took me parallel along a
thick tree line that bordered what I
had named White Marsh.
The marsh is surrounded by
countless white ashes, white oaks
and tall white pines. It took about 10
minutes to slowly travel the distance to
the big white oak in the tree line next
to the cornfield, where I had planned
to sit and wait for the turkeys to vacate
their roosts.
When I reached the large white oak,
I quickly adjusted the legs on my seat,
carefully laid the crossbow across the
seat and paced off 25 yards to where
I set up the decoys. Once back at the
tree I loaded the bow with the manual
3
Pennsylvania Game News - May 2015

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