I'd been cruising along, filling spring turkey tags around the country, three of them on opening days in Texas, Vermont and Maine; my Florida bird dropped on day two. Enter New Hampshire. Time to pay some dues. On that state's spring turkey opener, a particular vocal gobbler found three ways to beat me, coming inside range to my calls from behind me, in front of me (hidden in thick cover), and again behind me (unseen but heard), with his hen (where'd she come from?) swinging in to just several yards, even hopping onto a tree branch to check my position out. Cool stuff, for starters.