Burrowing into the overhang of the limbs of an oak tree that had obviously been felled the previous autumn, I began making soft clucks and purrs with several kinds of calls. Glass surface friction calls and diaphragm-style mouth calls were my choices, because wood strikers and boxes' lids would have been rendered mute by any errant drop of water getting on them.

With this game delayed by rain, my opening play began at around 9 a.m. Calling where you have a commanding view with a 300-degree arc of visibility can instill lots of confidence even when the surrounding forest's only response is silence. But hours of silence can wear patience thin.

At Bankhead NF, turkey hunting hours end at noon. I called sporadically, but I mostly watched and waited, occasionally checking my watch to gauge the passing hours as I kept trying to convince myself to keep my eyelids open. At 11:55, I finally dropped my gun from my knees, straightened them to ease the cramps in my thighs, and laid the barrel across my ankle with the muzzle projecting beyond my boot sole.

Whether the gobbler was attracted to the tiny movement or just decided to get a look at the hen calling in the downed treetop didn't matter. What did matter was that he had approached from the 60-degree arc behind me where I did not see him. I now realized he was directly in front of where my gun muzzle was pointed and just 40 feet away!

His head was lit white-hot, his super-long beard stood erect, and his eyes were as black and shiny as licorice jellybeans. Heck, he was close enough that I was already sizing up his spurs.

The tom peered at the gun muzzle as I wondered if I could elevate the gun a few inches and get off a shot before he bolted.

The stare-down seemed to last an hour, but it couldn't have been more than a couple of seconds. Then the gobbler discovered his error.

The tom dipped his head so fast the motion was hard to follow. He craned his neck low to get a closer look in my direction, and then he made his move -- a fast disappearing act back the way he had come. Had it not been for his tracks in the wet clay, I might have believed I had fallen asleep and he had been a dream.

My first hunt in the Bankhead National Forest sent me home with an empty game bag. But you can bet I'll come back to try again.

HOW TO PLAN YOUR HUNT
My hunt had begun with a search for information about the 180,000-acre Bankhead National Forest. I quickly learned that a permit is required for hunting Black Warrior Wildlife Management area, including the Sipsey Wilderness. Black Warrior WMA is located at the northeastern part of the national forest, while Sipsey Wilderness is located at the northwestern part. The southern part of Bankhead NF is not included in the special wildlife management area and can therefore be hunted without a permit.