OSAGE BEACH, Mo. -- If you are a turkey hunter, you will recognize the desk clerk"s reaction to your request for a 3 a.m. wake-up call.

"3 a.m.? Wow!"

But only in Missouri, when you answer, "I"m a turkey hunter," will there be any expression of understanding.

That"s because turkey hunting in Missouri can be compared to pheasant hunting in South Dakota. Just about everyone does it.

It was 3:45 a.m. when I met my guide, Soda Popp, in the lobby of The Lodge of Four Seasons, a sprawling five-star resort on Lake of the Ozarks.

We had about an hour"s drive to Popp"s farm wedged on a spit of land between the mighty Missouri River and the historic Osage River. It is the Bagnell Dam on the Osage River some 60 miles away that has created Lake of the Ozarks.

Both rivers were running bank full and a major rain event could send one or both river surging across low lying areas.

That"s why about 30 trailers were sitting on the road and levee approaching the property. The trailers had been pulled to high ground. Some of the cabins along the Osage were built on stilts to withstand occasional high water levels.

But it was the flood of 1993 that all the river bottom folks here talk about. That event washed 14 feet of water into Popp"s farm home and sent him to live in town until he could rebuild.

At the farm house, Terry Bruns drove in to meet us. He works with Popp and had roosted the turkeys the night before.

We hiked in about a half mile through a corn field and in the graying light I could see a distant line of trees. I guessed that"s where we were heading and it was.

There, at the edge of the timber, set a ground level deer house just big enough to hold three of us comfortably. We entered and waited for the turkeys to wake up.

They soon did. Gobbles erupted all around us and one bird seemed to be roosting right above the blind.

We could hear the birds flying down before we seen them land in the field in front of us.

I had one hen decoy sitting in front of us at about 20 yards. A hundred yards farther, more than a dozen turkeys were down scratching in the field. A good number of them were toms.

Although the toms would spread and strut from time to time, it seemed all the turkeys were more interested in feeding than breeding.

With the temperature sitting at 30 degrees, I could understand why.

It has been a cold, wet spring in Lake of the Ozarks country, just as it has been here.

Most of the turkey hunters I visited with down there felt the birds were behind a good couple of weeks and just about everyone was having trouble finding toms that would gobble or respond well to decoys.

Their season opened April 21 and turkey harvest report data shows the kill to be below normal numbers.

By 9 a.m. it was obvious that we were not going to see any action from these birds. At times we had up to 10 toms in front of us. They would pace back and forth and a couple of them passed within a few feet of a large pecan tree in the middle of the field. We decided I would set up there the next day.

I was in Missouri as a guest of the Tri-County Lodging Association"s annual Outdoor Writers Hunting and Fishing Event. It"s four days of showcasing hunting and fishing opportunities in the Lake of the Ozarks region.

I and several other writers from around the country hunted turkeys and fished for largemouth bass, crappie and catfish.

We were headquartered at the Lodge of Four Seasons (www.4seasonsresort.com).

The next morning found me in front of that pecan tree with a low screen blind in front and Soda and Terry in a second deer house 200 yards behind.

I had placed three decoys about 20 yards behind me.

The birds had changed roosting locations this morning. They flew down from the far corner of the field and I could see about a dozen of them milling back and forth.

I decided not to call at all. These birds seemed extremely wary the day before and I felt I was on a natural path for them to reach this end of the field.

It looked good early. Two big toms began edging their way toward me just as they had the previous morning.

Then, at 100 yards they hung up, tails spreading and looking right at me.

They were there for about 15 minutes and finally I gave a single "cluck."

There was no response. Later they just turned and walked away. I waited until the whole group was about 300 yards away on a grassy strip, before deciding to call it a morning.

There were two hens still in the field. One about 100 yards out, the other 150. I pulled down my face mask and grabbed a water bottle raising it to my lips and watched as the two hens raced away. Now, those are wary birds.

I was done turkey hunting, but Soda had another writer to bring out the next morning.

By the way, Soda Popp is his real name.

"We didn"t have much when I was growing up," he says. "My mom wanted to give me something special. Something that would set me apart from everyone else. So, she named me Soda."

I told Soda that if I were coming back the next morning, I"d set the screen blind and the decoys in the same place and then walk way out into the field and lay down.

It would be a bushwhack but that"s about the only way one of these birds could be had.

At dinner that night, I asked Soda about the day"s hunt. The writer had set up at the pecan tree and the turkeys reacted the same as they had the morning I had hunted them.

"If I had been laying in the field a hundred yards out from that tree, would I have shot one of them?" I asked.

"Yes," Soda said.

Well, I"d rather not get a turkey than take one like that.

Anyway, I"d give these birds more credit for being too wary than to walk up on a pile of camo laying in the middle of that field.

It would have been just another cold morning, laying on the ground and watching big gobblers outsmart me once again.

Larry Myhre is outdoors editor of the Journal. Reach him at (712) 276-5965 or email at: lfentfish@msn.com.