The Hunter or The Turkey?

For several years, Christina has wanted to hunt a turkey. Last year we put her in the draw, and she was a little upset when I drew a tag and she didn't. This year was different, because I didn't put myself in. I was therefore guaranteed not to draw. And, in all respects, Christina was nearly guaranteed to draw.

And she did. Only there was one little problem: her brilliant husband entered the wrong unit number on the application, and sent it off without double checking. When her tag showed up, we were in for a surprise! The unit for which she had earned her first ever turkey tag was around Price, Utah -- not around Blanding, Utah.

After we realized the problem, we spent some time discussing what to do, and decided to go for it. I have a brother and an uncle who both live in the Price area. My uncle's wife's family (got that?) owns a pretty good parcel of land on the west side of Price. Up until mid-April, when everybody stopped noticing, there were turkeys on the land, and they graciously gave us permission to try our hand at getting a shot.

So, we camo'ed up and headed out, expecting a fairly easy time locating some birds to attempt to call. And, as should be expected, no such luck. No turkeys to be found. We didn't even find any evidence that turkeys had been there. I'm sure there was, at some point, but no longer.

We still had a good time trouncing through the hills, exploring new territory and breathing in the fresh air. But snapping a few pics of my pregnant wife all dolled up in her camo overalls may have been the most fun of all. Now take a look at this picture and ask yourself, very seriously: Can you get any more "red neck" than this? I can hear Jeff Foxworthy now...