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Member stories
OOPS!!
By Sarah Clark June 23, 2008
Ever been caught with
your pants down? I really shouldn’t tell off on my husband, Donald, like
this, but some things just need to be told.
This story occurred
about 33 years ago. It was my first turkey hunt. We had been married one
and a half years and for some reason I hadn’t been on a turkey hunt yet.
Donald’s family was all about hunting. They lived from hunting season to
hunting season, and in between they were getting ready for the next
hunting season. Whatever season was open, whether it was dove, squirrel,
deer, or turkey, that’s what they were into. But there was something
just a little more “keyed up” before and during turkey season. Turkeys
were just different!
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Local Call Maker: Scotty Maddux
of “Strut-N Turkey Calls”
By Lionel Green March 18, 2008
www.sandmountainreporter.com
“I fell in love with turkeys before I fell in love with girls,” says
Boaz resident Scotty Maddux. Most guys are probably not secure enough in
their manhood to make such a bold statement, but Maddux clucks the cluck
and struts’ the strut when talking turkey.
The 40-year-old engineer constructs custom, hand-made
turkey calls; runs his own turkey call Web site; and is president of the
local National Wild Turkey Federation chapter, the Sand Mountain
Long-beards. Maddux even created calendars for the past two years
featuring beautiful photographs of — you guessed it — turkey calls.
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Lost
By Sarah Clark
Something wasn't right! Twice I had
walked by the same white oak tree with the gaping hole in its side. I
thought I was on my way back to the truck, but somehow made a circle.
Fear had begun to well up inside me, clutching my heart and grabbing my
throat. With each frantic second, darkness was creeping into the woods.
I could no longer see the compass I had been doubting for the past
twenty minutes. Seeing a distant opening in the woods, I decided to go
toward it, even though it seemed to be in the wrong direction.
The opening was a
large clearcut that I had never seen before, but at least it was lighter
than in the woods. I thought I knew these woods fairly well, but nothing
seemed right. Where was I? Earlier that afternoon I had walked through a
corner of a clearcut to get into the woods, but this was not it. I knew
I had crossed over several ridges this afternoon before I found the
right place to set up to call to the elusive ol' gobbler. That morning
he had me running in these same woods trying to get ahead of him as he
made his vocal escape.
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