I was walking down the grass field lane to the back corn field thinking about the season, as it wrapped up, I remembered the first hunts for my son and how excited I was when we called 3 longbeards in to 15 yards in less than 30 minutes, and how bummed he was when he missed. I remembered, getting up too early during first season, and having a bird fire up just around the corner, leaving me no choice but to lay down and watch helplessly as he walked by looking for the hen he had heard. Then there was the crazy hunt with friend Carl that had three longbeards coming from three different directions, but nothing to show after the hunt. The season was a roller coaster of emotion, and I was feeling bummed as I stared the prospect of a third unfilled tag right in the face. I had tried everything I could think of, even going to the extreme of putting my lucky hat in the penalty box for a couple hunts. Today I had the lucky hat back on, and I was hoping the time in the penalty box would somehow break the curse I felt I was under, and as I ran my hand over the torn and worn out bill, a bird gobbled off in the dark.
I was immediately excited because this bird was in a location where I had never heard one roost, and though it was on the neighbors, I felt I could get close. He sounded off several more times as I eased into position and settled in within 80 yards of the bird. I sat back and enjoyed the woods coming alive and soon I could make out the bird in the predawn light that was working its way across the sky from the east. I was set up in a reclaimed cow pasture, with 40 yards of open grass/hedge trees in front of me, a fence, and then a steep oak ridge where the bird was roosted. The last few days had been a struggle just to get a bird to acknowledge my calls, so when I let the first tree call out and he hammered back, I smiled and thought...game on. I was very easy with my calling and he continued to hammer on the limb, strutting and spinning in circles. He put on a show for close to 30 minutes and then, abruptly, his attitude changed. He shut up completely, stood still on the limb and faced one direction only. I was thinking maybe he saw a coyote or a bobcat, but it was worse...a series of yelps on a box call came ringing out from the bottom below the turkey. I have heard some really awful sounding hens this year but based on his behavior, and the 64 note hen cadence, I knew there was a hunter in close proximity to the bird. Hunt over, I thought, I immediately went to subtle purrs and very quiet yelps as I sat and watched the bird stand like a statue as the hunter continued to call, almost non stop.
The bird finally hopped off the limb and came my direction, finally gobbling after a goose flew over and he was still in the timber, moving away from the hunter and to my right. The next time I heard him, he was on the edge of the field I had planned to hunt that morning and all I could do was laugh as I watched him pop into the field and go into strut as a live hen joined him. I watched them walk across the field and then picked up and headed to the field. By the time I eased up to the field edge they were gone, so I made my way to the back of the field where I knew birds liked to hang out sometimes. Just as I was about to sit down and just wait for something to not happen, a bird gobbled on a ridge off to the south east.
I quickly headed his direction, using the terrain to avoid being spotted, I closed the gap to 100 yards. The bird was not that fired up but gobbled just enough that I could keep a bead on him. I had hunted this bird or a bird in the same spot 3 times this season, and had yet to get closer than 60 yards. I decided to call from a spot that I knew this bird was comfortable, I set up in a russian olive bush, set my hen decoy on the ground in a breeding position, and surveyed the scene. To my left was a fence, a steep creek, and then a large bottom field, in front of me was a small clearing at the base of the ridge and a hillside that ran up to my right, covered in briars and hedge trees. The bird was on the top of the ridge out in front of me in the timber.
I hit a very subtle series of yelps on a mouth call and the bird responded, still at around 100 yards, on the ridge above the small clearing. I was very careful with the call and called just enough to keep him wondering where I was. After 30 minutes of back and forth he gobbled from around 60 yards away and I could hear drumming! I gave him the silent treatment for another 15 minutes and he only gobbled twice, still standing at the base of the ridge. My only shot was a deer trail in front of me that cut between a large walnut tree and the briar patch on the hillside. Twice during this 15 minute span, I caught movement on that trail and both times I was sure it was the bird sneaking in, and both times it turned out to be song birds. I decided for one last call, and carefully turned my head away from the tom and called very softly to imitate the hen leaving. I told myself no matter what I was waiting 30 minutes before I made another sound. He gobbled immediately and within a minute I again saw movement through the briar bush, only this time it was red and white! I eased the gun up and let him walk right into my sight path, dropping him at 18 yards!!! The coolest part...I was using my son’s new youth 20 gauge that he received for Christmas, and he had asked me to use in an attempt to change my luck! My first bird ever with a 20 gauge! He weighed in at 23 lbs, and had nice 1 3/8” spurs and a 10.5” beard! I was solo so the photo isn't the best!
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| 23 lbs, 1 3/8" spurs, 10 1/2" beard |
