Case: I was looking for turkey feathers and ran into bear fur
There may very well be those who would occasionally look at my columns and think "Does he ever get a turkey?" Well, for the record, I do.

There may very well be those who would occasionally look at my columns and think "Does he ever get a turkey?" Well, for the record, I do.

Here's something my regular readers already know: Turkey hunters aren't normal.

I was in a familiar predicament, but that made it no less painful.

There is just something about it. It is very hard to explain, but I will try.

The turkey gobbled promptly at 6:37 in the a.m., or at least that was the first time I heard him. I sighed when I did.

One of the things I believe I should do here in this platform is keep reminding you of your duty to pass on our hunting heritage.

Standing between the two big rocks on the crest of the ridge, I felt pretty special.

The old brown Chevy is back in action as we hurtle through the darkness on another mission.

I have been trying to put this off (I'm not sure why), but it's turkey time once again.

The voicemail message from the editor was short and ominous: "See me immediately." This couldn't be good.
