A weighty issue: The turkey vest
For a dyed-in-the-wool turkey hunter there’s nothing worse than a rainy day in May, or is there? When I’m turkey hunting, it seems no matter what I do to stay dry, I somehow manage to come home wet. Besides, leaving the house in total darkness with rain splattering the roof is a depressing feeling. To make myself feel better about missing a day of hunting, I tell my self turkey season is a month long and there will be better days ahead.
A rainy May morning is not all bad, however, because it gives me an excuse to sleep and heightens my enthusiasm for the next hunting opportunity. On top of that, I like going out late in the morning when the rain stops, especially as the calendar marches toward June. Over the years I’ve killed as many birds after 10 a.m. as I have before that time so I rationalize that sometimes there’s no need to attack at dawn.
Last week my wife and I were out of town with a family commitment, and after four days I was eager to get back to the woods. When I returned the weather wasn’t promising and rain was in the forecast. This time the weatherman wasn’t wrong and the rain came as predicted. It was one of those all-day soakers that lasted two days. The rain may have been good for the grass but it put a damper on my turkey hunting. As a result, I had time on my hands and I was determined to get something worthwhile accomplished.
The last time I went hunting I noticed the vest seemed heavy. Too heavy, as a matter of fact, and I made a mental note to go through it when I had the chance to remove some unneeded items. The rainy day would give me the time I needed.
Before I got the vest I started each morning’s hunt with several diaphragm calls in my shirt pocket, a box call nestled in a holster on my hip and my favorite glass pot call and striker around my neck. My mantra was to travel light and for years I did, but one day I thought I needed a turkey vest so I got one. The problem is it seems now I’m carrying everything but the kitchen sink.