You guys are digging up so many bad memories for me :D !
Last year, on Catoosa. Get set up on a bird after a long walk and bulldoze through a several yr old clear-cut regrowth. It wasn't a jungle, but it was close.
When I finally pop out of it, I am less than 100 yds from him, but I dare not try to get closer. The woods were dry, and every step sounded like I was walking on Corn Flakes (and I'm not a little fellow either).
So, I make do right there. I make a few subtle calls and get a response. After a short period, I repeat and so does he. A little later, he grows impatient and gobbles and has closed the distance to 80 yds or so, I estimate. I fight the urge to call to him, and just stay silent. He goes nuts, and has a gobbling fit demanding that the hen show herself.
It is still pretty thick where I am, and there are some downed trees directly between us. But, there is pretty open area at my 10:00, so that is the way I have my gun pointed, as I figure/hope that is the way he will approach. (you see where this is going.)
Soon I hear his foot steps (I am one of the unlucky ones that cannot hear one drumming). He pops into view at 25 yds diligently searching for the hen that has been teasing him, but he is at my 1:00 position. He studies the situation for a few seconds, and then slowly starts walking toward my 12:00.
When he goes behind some of the thick stuff and I can't see his head, I just turned the barrel of the gun ever so slightly. He saw it, put on the brakes, and walked directly away from me. No putting, running, etc. He just knew that something wasn't right.
That was toward the end of the season, and I hope to meet up with him again this year.
