Ryan and I headed out early to be on the Boulder and, hopefully, to fill a turkey tag.
The wind whistled and the snow glistened, and while we couldn't count on too much edge from my hunting prowess or call skills, we had hope. Always hope.
After ranging far and wide, fishing here and there, and maneuvering the old 'Runner past many a snowbank, at the end of the day we got a hip shot off on a bionic turkey hightailing up a forty degree incline at fifty miles per hour.
I missed.

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