This past Wednesday afternoon, with the wind howling from the south at 25 MPH, gusting to 35, at the invitation of a friend of mine, Brad and I attempted to go Turkey hunting.

Brad donned his gillie coat and I snapped this picture of him before we trekked to our hunting spot.

We chose to hunt next to a cultivated field, along a creek bottom, thinking that the birds would mosey along the creek on their way to their roost. Brad was using his (personal) M-4, .223, shortened version of the military’s M-16, shown in the picture, and I was toting my 12 gauge autoloader.

Setting the decoy out along the edge of the cultivated field, I turned and walked back to our hide and before I could sit down, the wind blew down the decoy. Steadying it with a good sized rock was no problem and I began a long series of calling, with no results. Brad was about 10 yards away from me and told me as we walked back to my Jeep, “Dad, with this wind howling, I could barely hear your clucks.” So much for that days hunt!

Last night we got hammered by a line of severs thunderstorms, 50-60 MPH winds, 2 inches of rain, hail and a copious amount of lightning. North of us, along I-20 from Eastland to Ft. Worth, they had a tornado and baseball sized hail. Around here, we have long learned that when the wind howls from the south, just hold on, it will come back from the northwest with a vengeance!