By Glen Wunderlich

“Energy and persistence conquer all things.”  …Benjamin Franklin.

When it comes to hunting, I call it paying dues and this turkey hunting season was going to require a heavy dose of stick-to-itiveness.  For me, it’s nothing new.

My highly anticipated opening day was cancelled at 9am, when a high-wheeled sprayer rig roared through the winter wheat field I had chosen to hunt.  I could have left my blind and called it a day, but even against the questionable odds of success, I persisted in a chair blind for 10 hours before admitting temporary defeat.

The following day in the same blind location, three toms were not buying what I was selling and safely slipped away.  The excitement of the close call enticed me into a return visit the following day.

But, when a logger and a pair of draft horses interrupted the session at 7am, it was time to relocate.  With the Looking Glass River running through the property, I’d move my hideout to the opposite side of the waterway, thus providing the perfect, natural division between commotion and solitude.

However, by the time I had gathered my senses and gear and returned to establish a new stand, the log-dragging operation beat me to the opposite side of the river.  It was time for a talk.

The young loggers more than had their hands full, as I watched two inexperienced one-ton animals fighting their handlers.  Over and over, the animals backed up to a log, while a horseman/logger attempted to set the huge tongs into a log, only to hang on helplessly, as the animals bolted away log-less dragging them along.

To complicate matters, mosquitos were fighting the men, too.  I gave them some mosquito repellant and learned of their plan to finish that day.

Heartened by the news, I set up my surveillance PlotWatcher camera to learn if there were any birds on this side of the river.  Reviewing the recorded action days later on the computer screen, a lone gobbler could be seen strutting his stuff in the early morning hours.

Inexplicably, many of the massive logs remained in the field, contrary to what I had been told.  Obviously, the loggers were not able to get their horses to cooperate and had given up long before completing their work.

My friend, Joe, and I set up a larger blind so that we could hunt as a team on the weekend.  Before our morning together had come to an end, I worked a vocal gobbler for some time, but I couldn’t coax him from the security of the forest.

Days later, the loggers then demonstrated their own persistence and returned to finish the job.  Well, almost.  The camera showed one huge maple log remaining at the end of the day – the day before my next planned hunt.

Would the loggers be back in prime time the following day?  Heck, would the woods ever settle down?  There’d be only one way to find out.

I could only hope I’d get another chance.  At 6:25 am, a bold tom gobbled from the forest floor, as I dished out some soft talk via my favorite call:  A Ring Zone slate call given to me by the inventor, Jim Moss.

He was close enough to hear my muted purrs and gobbled his way closer to fate. At last, the call was set down in exchange for my Browning Silver in 3 ½” 12 gauge. My lone hen decoy was placed purposely in front of the massive log left 30 yards in front of me in an effort to direct a tom to the shooting side.

The bearded turkey entered the field and appeared to be on a mission away from my decoy and before it could stroll out of range, at 36 yards a load of 2 ¼ oz. of number 6 shot made persistence pay off.

The two year-old turkey sported small spurs and a 10 7/16” beard.

Long after I’ve enjoyed the last of a wild turkey dinner, however, this bird will be a reminder of Ben Franklin’s wisdom.