By Capt Sonny Schindler
We had just stopped at the bottom of the small hill when the turkey gobbled no more than twenty feet from us. I was forced to the ground by my guide, and he put his index finger to his lips, the universal sign for shut the hell up! Very thick brush and a eight foot hill separated us from the loud turkey. The ground shook every time the bird answered the guides yelps with a thunderous gobble. We crept, crawled an shimmied our way to the top of the hill. The entire time we could hear a pack of hens and the gobblers tearing up the forest floor. Slowly we inched our way to the summit of the hill, both of us shaking with adrenaline, like junkies needing a fix. As we raised up ready to shoot, we realized the clever or lucky gobbler had out smarted us. There was a small cliff on the other side of the hill that prevented us from shooting at such a weird angle. My guide was fuming mad at the birds as he turned to me to apologize. Still shaking, grinning ear to ear, I said âWhat a rush, that was freaking awesome!â
Three days prior, good friend Kenny Monti had invited me to Orrville Alabama to hunt at the famous Biscuit Plantation(Leased by Ferguson). Where is Orville you might ask? It is about five miles from nowhere and just east of never heard of it. Actually is just south of Selma, AL. The quite, scenic little towns motto is painted on the side of a building on main street reading, âOrville, where livin is easy.â I could not agree more…
Kenny, a project manager with JEM Mechanical in Bay St Louis was invited to the Biscuit Plantation on a corporate trip. Keith Johnson is the head sales rep with Ferguson and would be our âchaperoneâ for the weekend. JEM does a lot of business with the power house Ferguson and in turn gets access to this mesmerizing plantation. In doing so, Monti brought Johnny Hewitt with C Perry Builders and his six year old son Lance. One of JEMâs best operators Richard Dedeaux and Bonding Agent Justin Ladner with Stewart Sneed and Hewes Insurance joined the adventure. Rounding out the trip were myself and one of Kenny and mines oldest friends Neil Heitzman. Neil and I were there to help Kenny and Keith with the day to day chores to ensure everyone had a good hunt. Turned out that everyone pitched in, so everyone got to hunt.
The Biscuit plantation is actually the famous Pope and Locke Hunting Preserve. It is known for itâs consistent 140 and the not uncommon 160 class white tails. The lodge can sleep over 20 people comfortably, but usually they have smaller groups. There are 30 box stands and 15 ladder stands over their perfectly manicured food plots. The good people at Ferguson have leased this pristine chunk of real estate and have the 2500 acres all to themselves. The Fegruson people agreed on the lease at a Montgomery Biscuits baseball game(get it?). Now they use it for meetings, retreats and corporate hunting trips. Judging from the several hundred photos on the walls, looks like the land has been very very good to them.
With the exception of Dedeaux and Hewitt, none of us had ever turkey hunted. You could literally hear the birds gobbling from the front porch of the camp. We figured it would be nothing to go blast a few birds and get back while the coffee was still fresh, WRONG! Turkeys are much smarter than any of us novices had ever imagined. We knew they were everywhere, hell you could hear them all day long. On top of that, it had rained for days before our arrival, it actually stopped raining as we were unpacking our gear. Every track we saw could not have been fresher and they were everywhere we looked.
Kenny and I whipped up fresh shrimp po-boys while the others unpacked their gear and got ready. Everyone was famished from the drive, no one talked, we just ate. Kind of one of those meals that hurt your jaws, it just tasted that good. Everyone suited up with camo and was covered head to toe. We worked in teams to cover more ground, I assure you, there was plenty of it to cover. The first afternoon was myself, Dedeaux, and Justin hunting an area that had turkey tracks less than two hours old in it. I never got to hear one gobble, but got to see plenty of deer. It is like the deer know when the seasons ends, they were everywhere and fearless. As we returned to the lodge, we discovered no one pulled the trigger on a bird. It wasnât difficult to feel down, Kenny was hard at work cutting fresh tuna steaks. Kenny has climbed the corporate ladder pretty quickly, and after sampling his fresh tuna steaks and shrimp pasta who could not promote this guy?
Neil and I spent most of the evening being entertained by young Lance. This well behaved, inquisitive 6 year old was so full of excitement. Neil and I worked a summer camp job many years ago and young Lance played into our banter perfectly. He tirelessly walked through the 3,000 square foot lodge asking questions about the mounted deer, geese, bobcats, and of course the big elk in the corner. It was this part of the hunt that I realized it was not about the kill, but about the fellowship. Sure there was some business involved, but we were creating new friendships and strengthening old ones. The good times went into the following morning, and only of few of us opted for slumber. Telling stories about hunts past, our families, work, and âother stuffâ kept most of the guys entertained into the wee hours of the morning.
The next morning, unofficial guide Dedeaux and I landed on the birds. He was an expert caller and at one point we had three gobblers working their way through the thick woods to us. I never imagined a bird could be so loud an intimidating, but to me they were. Never able to get that perfect scenario to get a shot off, the birds were winning the war. We covered miles that morning, but I was having a ball. Keep in mind, this was my first ever turkey hunt, and I was on one of the nicest plantations in Alabama. The birds were everywhere, it just was not in the cards. Dedeaux worked his tail off trying to set us up ahead of the moving birds, but they were always one step ahead. After 6 missed stalks, we threw in the towel and headed back to the Biscuit. Turns out Johnny and young Lance did take a shot, but missed. The big gobbler was just out or range. We got to hear every detail of that hunt from the young hunter, and honestly it got better every time he told it.
Kenny, Neil, Justin and Keith had a Kings sized breakfast waiting on us. Everyone sat down at the table had a nice âfamilyâ meal. Everyone got along so well it just did not seem matter no one had killed a turkey yet. Neil surprised all of us with some toys he had brought for us to play with. Completely geared for the Zombie Apocalypse, Neil let everyone shoot his new AK-47 at the range behind the camp. Young Lance opted to shoot his new 22 rifle and we all enjoyed watching him get closer and closer to the bulls eye. The young hunters energy was contagious.
That afternoon found everyone in the woods but Keith. He stayed back to look over the lodge while we went to settle the score with the turkeys. I hunted with Johnny and his son Lance. We walked a good mile into the woods, stopping every so often to check a track or call for gobblers. I knew this hunt was more for Lance than anyone and we did our best to keep him interested. Being a new dad, I took notes at the impressive manner in which Johnny interacted with his young son. He gave him just enough freedom to explore, but maintained a very watchful eye for danger or injury. Watching those two walk down the road together was an image of what I believed a good father should be. I learned on that walk, Lance has 5 sisters back at home, he was really enjoying his guy time with dad.
That evenings hunt was one of the more comical outdoor adventures I have ever been on. The land was so vast, that we never thought we would be hunting even remotely close to each other. Well an hour into our hunt Johnny realized that one of the other hunters was answering his turkey call. Getting late and not wanting to miss out on a good joke, he layed it on thick. Every time the other hunter would call, he would answer. We knew our window to set up again before dark was over, so a good prank was our only option. About 30 minutes into it Kenny realized he was talking to Johnny via the turkey call and could not take it. He safely fired his shotgun into the ground, not wanting Johnny and I to get the last laugh. This not only pulled us out of the woods, but turned out all the hunters were basically hunting the same area. We had a good laugh and there were no hard feelings. Needless to say, no one got a turkey that hunt, but got a darn funny story out of it.
After the long day in the woods, and dinning on the mouth watering steaks with fixings, the entire group was flattened. Somehow we stayed up, trying to savor each others company. We knew we would all be leaving in the morning, heading back to our families and work. It was like everyone understood, this get a way was never about shooting a turkey. The get a way, like all outdoor adventures is about the time we as outdoors men spend together. Sure the land was covered up with turkey. Six of the 8 had never once hunted turkeys before. We knew it was gonna be tough, but you just couldnât miss a trip like this(kill or no kill). Most of us learned we have much work to do, before our next turkey hunt. For father Johnny and son Lance this was a memory that will surely stand the test of the time. For the rest of the boys, this outing introduced people together that may have never met. Thinking back to hunts past, this may have been one of the most enjoyable ones I have ever been on, and I never fired a shot!. In regards to fishing, Henry David Thoreau said it best, âMany men go fishing all of their lives without knowing it is not the fish they are afterâ. Kind of makes me wonder if old Mr Thoreau was not a turkey hunter too? As always have fun and be safe.