Alabama Spring Gobbler Season-2023

[bamaranger]

In years past, the running description of my spring gobbler seems well received and tolerated by the moderators. So as before, here goes.

I believe I am well scouted this year, having seen and heard many gobblers before season. A mast crop failure in our area has driven the birds into fields, clearings and cutover and green plots to feed, and flocks were easily located just after deer season feeding in the open. I heard my first gobble on 16March, likely due to the fact that I simply did not get up early enough on previous days to hear one. The early pattern was gobble at dawn for 15-20 minutes from the roost and then silence. I did not hear a mid morning gobble at any time while scouting, and I was afield a good bit beginning late Feb.

-1April, opening day
Up extra early to beat the crowd, as the opener is on a Sat., I'm away from the house before 4:30AM. It stormed the night before, but the day breaks clear and cool with light wind. I've elected to "field hunt" on the Mud Club, the birds are wet and should move to the open, and their coming to green plots and fields anyhow to feed. I'm settled in a pop-up blind shortly after 5:00AM. In the gray of early dawn, a gobbler sounds off in the hollow below me, likely not 200 yds away. He's the first to sound off, well, at least the first I can hear.He gobbles consistently in the brightening gray, but it's far to early to call to him. I begin to hear other gobbles in the distance and after an impatient wait, I tree call lightly on my old slate. He thunders back, immediately and I am once again amazed at how far a gobbler can hear what seems to be the slightest sound. He gobbles a few more times on his own, and I hit a fly down cackle, hard and loud. He double gobbles. After some time I hear wings as he flies down, and his gobble on the ground is muted initially. But its clear he's on his way, gobbling steadily as he ascends the steep side of the hollow, on his way up. I answer sparingly, no use overdoing it, and in 10 minutes he's here. So close, I can hear the wet feathers shake on his breast at every gobble, a mere 30-50 ft away, but ..... I cannot see him.

As fate would have it, just downhill of the field I'm set up on, running parallel the field is a slight skidder path from old logging activity. I'm set up on what was an old loading deck, and to create a level spot on the hillside, the loggers pushed up dozer piles here and there on the edges. This gobbler struts back and forth on the skidder trail, obscured by a convenient dozer pile. I go silent, hoping he'll appear, the field is covered with sign, but he seems to drift away slightly, and I call again to bring him back and again the dozer pile covers him. This goes on for an hour. I'm in the middle of another silent treatment, when I hear what is clearly another hunter calling to this bird off to my left, maybe 100 yds away. Of course the gobbler answers him, so I call as well, louder than what I might normally, so that this Johnny Come Lately well realize there is another hunter here. That does not deter the fella, and he continues to call, with me dueling back and the gobbler going nuts. This persists for say 30 minutes or more.

Suddenly I see the unmistakable shape of a human form with a ball cap and a face mask creeping down the skidder path the gobbler is parading on. I lay on the call again, and the form melts into the brush, but this guy is close to the gobbler, say 60 yds or so. I'm peeved, my name is not on that turkey, but this is a small acreage club/lease, with only a dozen or so members, and sportsmanship and courtesy is expected. I've never had anybody cut in on a hunt in a decade of membership. Surely this guy can hear me, I've called WAY MORE than I ever would in the little duel we've had. On top of that, the pop-up blind looks like a camo colored tumor on the field. If I can see him, the blind should look enormous. My emotions get the better of me, I come out of the blind, the gobbler spooks and I hot foot it over to where I saw the hat, no more than 75 yds away. The guy has vanished, likely back down the side of the steep hollow. I begin to question what I think I saw.....nah, that was a guy calling and trying to stalk that turkey. (three days later, I get a text from a new member, apologizing for possibly "messing me up" on the first morning.)

I'm still doing mental gymnastics when a second turkey gobbles off to the east, in the opposite direction. I hot foot it back to the blind, call back, and he answers, though not convincingly. But 30 minutes later a mature gobbler skirts the end of the field, say 55 yds away, but does not close into range. Alabama has decreed "NO DECOYS" the first 10 days of the season, the shy tom, likely subordinate to the bird I was working, was not going to enter the field w/o seeing a hen. I stay 'till 1:00PM, hear gobbles and shots in the distance on the lease, but I have no more action.

What an opener.....and it doesn't get any better next time.

 

[stagpanther]

Love your stories, major reason I'm here. You'll be rewarded with an extra-big tom.

 

[bamaranger]

next two days

Thanks for the positive comments, much appreciated.

-2April, Palm Sunday
Special Day for believers and church and family and I do not hunt. Lunch with bamaboy and his wife (he's married, that guy, when did that happen) and of course lovely and patient bamawife. All obligations met, I slip off the last hour of daylight to the Mud Club to roost, and obligingly, almost right from the same point, but actually roosted tad closer than yesterday, a tom gobbles off the roost about 7:20PM. I bite his ear by giving him a fly up cackle, wing beats with my cap and then tree calls, and he gobbles at all of it. We're slightly further east, just on the other end of the field than before, and this time there is a skidder path leading right to the plot. I'll be back.

It rains that night, and dawn breaks and it's still raining. Nevertheless, I done a thin layer of fleece and head out, I've got one on the limb! I set up in the drizzle and fog. When it's light enough, with the same mouth call I used the evening pervious, I tree call, then do a fly down cackle. No response, but I'm not surprised, I know he's there. I beat a hasty treat the 60 yds or so back to the blind, and settle in. Fifteen minutes or so passes, the rains seems heavier, and I take a waterproof box call to punch through the noise, and yelp. Immediately I get an answer from below. I follow up with softer box call yelps and he answers, muted, he's on the ground! As before the tom gobbles several times in his ascent up the skidder path, just as I'd hoped. He'll pop out at nearly in range. But before his arrival, three hens appear first. I yelp to them with the mouth call, and they swing my way, up into the plot. In a minute or so the gobbler appears , breaks into strut, and parades up as well. I'd flipped a large rock at 35 paces, and the hens are all around it, the gobbler just beyond. He's inside 40 yds, and I wait for him to pull out of strut. When he does, I let him take a step or two past some stick up weeds, then line him up.

I've carried bamaboy's Mossberg 835 with rifle sights and 24" bb. Did so primarily 'cause I knew it would be wet and it's camo finish is less trouble in the rain than my old, blue steel, painted Rem 870. The Rem is scoped , but my 65 yr eyes can run the blurry fiber optics on the Mossberg well enough to kill turkeys inside 50 yds. The Rem shoots a denser pattern, but the Mossberg will deliver the same number of pellets on a sheet of typing paper at 30 yds, just more evenly distributed. It is essentially a bit more forgiving and towards the end of the season, I actually prefer it these days because it's lighter too.

I line up the green and red dots and shoot, run the pump and fight the gun down out of 3" mag recoil. The gobbler rolls and gains his feet and begins to hoof it in escape ! What ? I bang away three more times as he beats it out of sight. I do not recommend shooting at a fleeing turkey missed cleanly, there's to much feathers and you're shooting at the wrong end to be effective. But I clearly hit this bird and feel obligated trying to stop him. I stumble out of the blind, stuffing shells in the gun, and crash down the hillside after him. At the limit of my vision in the woods, he pitches off the hill and flies over to the opposite side of the hollow. Well....shucks!

I have no idea what happened. I was on him, let him clear cover, pull out of strut, and he was clearly in range. Did I hammer the trigger or perhaps fail to follow thru, muffing the shot. Or, did my aging eyes fail to line the sights up properly? I dunno, he's gone and I'm deflated. It's 6:45AM and this place is blown and so am I. I pull the blind and am back to the old white Bronco by 7:00AM, defeated. Nuts!

 

[stagpanther]

Oooops! Better luck next try.

 

[sako2]

Was wondering a couple days ago about your hunts. Love reading your stories.

 

[bamaranger]

more on the same day

-3April, continued
I crank the old (well actually, it's my newer one, '95 nickname "Walt") Bronco and motor off, intending to check the condition of the main access road to the Big Club where they have been logging and the road is near impassable. I see a lot of turkeys in the open over the next few miles, and it dawns on me that it is still early morning and the birds are pulling hard to the fields. You only get to do this one month out of the year.....c'mon man, hunt.

I pull up from my recon trip and head to a piece of private property with open fields/pasture where scouting revealed sign and at least one gobbler in the area. KP's place is just 50 acres, but the back half, a large pasture, is isolated and has always drawn turkeys from the hardwood hollows nearby. I leave the Bronco at 9:30 and hoof it to his back 25 acres and set up the blind watching the big pasture area on the hillside in front of me. I dose off and on and stay planted the rest of the day, a total of 9 hrs, lounging on a big folding chair and snoozing occasionally and calling a bit, 2-3 times an hour. The rain stops and the day clears, but no action and by 7:00pM I'm cramped and ready to move to higher ground to listen for roosting turkeys.

I am more than surprised when I see a hen on the far right of the hillside, about the limit of my vision some 100 yds plus distant. I call to her with my old slate and she answers and I am further astounded when a strong gobble breaks out from the woodline to my right, inside 100 yds. I call again and a second gobble and in a moment I hear distinct drumming . Three hens appear, followed shortly by a dandy gobbbler. The birds begin a large arc across the face of the hillside, the gobbler hangs down low, occasionally answering my calls, but he's a bit far. My mind races, he's 50 yds +/_-, technically at the limit of my range, but I sure do not want to cripple another one today. I am sorely tempted, but I hold off. If I roll him, no chance again. If I let him walk, I can hunt him again and perhaps have a better opportunity??????????? I hold off, refusing the shot and he saunters off in the growing dusk with his 3 girlfriends. He can't go to far, it's late, and I will be here tomorrow.

 

[bamaranger]

next day

4April
I get up easily the next AM, and KP's place is not far away. I'd let the blind and chair in place overnight, and it's a simple matter to hoof back with just my vest and gun and settle in.

I'll add here that I pretty much detest hunting from the pop-up blinds. I'd much rather sit out in the hardwoods in the classic manner and call gobblers. There are a number of purists that label the hunter that uses one as unsportsmanlike and at one time, hunting turkeys from man made blinds was illegal in some states, heck it may well still be somewhere. But the pop-up blind has been a very useful tool for me, allowing hunts in extremely open areas like cutover and pasture, where one is so exposed that a gobbler would see you long before you see him, it just would not be possible for a hunter to sit still, long enough, to not get picked off. The blind also allows for hunts in pretty much lousy wet weather, and stay dry and comfortable the whole time. This season, with the birds holding in open areas so heavily, the pop-up will be a useful tactic.

Anyhow, at dawn, what had to be the same gobbler sounds off from the north, perhaps a quarter mile away. I stay put. That area is presently closed to hunting, there shouldn't be anybody over there to cut me off, and the strategy here is to call and draw this gobbler and his hens up to the open pasture. The morning is still enough that I can yelp strongly on the old slate, no need for the box, and when I do, the tom answers from the roost. I do not call again until I hear a change in his gobbles to indicate he's on the ground. Then I pour it on, actually calling to the hens that are undoubtedly nearby. I get rewarded when a single hen crests the hill top and wanders down past my blind, clucking inquisitively. But no gobbler or the other girls follow, instead, I hear an occasional gobble as the tom and likely harem work their way west, apparently along the bottom of the hollow over there. I answer his gobbles periodically, but he is not coming, we're simply keeping track of each other . I'm encouraged at one point as the gobbles swing back south, but the tom climbs the ridge behind me and opposite the pasture, and gobbles for about 45 minutes from one general spot along the crest of the ridge (again, that area is closed to hunting presently). By now it's 9:00AM and I hear no more gobbles. I stay put till 10:00 but can stand no more. I'm sleep deprived, cramped from many hours in the folding chair, and the day has broken hot and sunny, the temp approaching 75-80 degrees, and the blind is like an oven. I pull the blind, relocate to the south end of the pasture where I saw the gobbler appear last evening, and go home for lunch and a nap.

Bamawife fixes me a sandwich, bless her, listens to my tales, and I crash hard for a nap. I set the alarm for 3:00PM, but the days of scouting and all day hunts take their toll, I oversleep, never leaving the house till 4:00PM. I rationalize it with the fact that I saw the gobbler yesterday at near 7:00PM and it's stinking hot not, and reason the birds will not move till it cools. I've got time. Yeah, right!

When I reach the pasture, it's 4:30, I scan the area carefully before leaving cover to walk the last 100 yds or so to my blind. Clear, I head down the hillside. Halfway there, on the north end of the field, exactly where I'd placed the blind this morning, stands a gobbler. We see each other at the same instant and have a long stare down. He's 400 yds distant, and mere steps from cover and slowly pivots and steps off the pasture. I'm furious with myself. A mere 60 seconds and I'd have been concealed in the blind and that tom would have likely waltzed right down the edge of the pasture to me. Nuts.

Now what? Well, he didn't seem badly spooked. He was alone. He wants to meet hens here, likely in this south corner where I saw him yesterday (there's less of a slope to this corner, and it's the most shaded). There's also the chance, albeit a slim one, that there is more than one tom in residence.
I slide into the blind and decide to stick it out. Not wanting the gobbler I saw to associate my calling with the human shape he saw minutes before, I do nothing but sit for two hours. At 6:45PM, I hear leaves rustling in the woodline to my front. I'm set up at the base of a giant red oak actually 50 yds or so out in the pasture, and the woodline forms a 90 degree corner in front of me. I yelp ever so softly on my vintage slate and follow with a purr and cluck. A tremendous gobble rings out from just inside the woodline! Oh yeah...... I purr and cluck again, very gently. No response, but this is looking very good. I ditch the slate and get the gun in my hands and begin to watch the corner formed in front of me, especially the little path where the gobbler stepped out yesterday. About 5 minutes later, hard off the right side the gobbler slips out from the woods into the open. He's close, under 40 yds, and I've got to squirm about a bit to get around to where I can get the muzzle out one of the shooting slots, but I manage it without incident. You can get away with a lot from within the concealment of the blind.

I've carried my old 870 that I bought as a graduation gift to myself. The shotgun has morphed into dedicated turkey tool. The pretty 1970's walnut has been swapped out for synthetic, the long fixed choke vent rib barrel replaced with a Rem choked 20" slug barrel and rifle sights, into which I've screwed a super full Rem turkey choke, which does quite well. On top of the shotgun rides a Leupold 1.5-5x scope in a saddle mount, the old shotgun is not factory drilled and tapped. To get a cheek weld, I've duct taped a check rest cut from a sleeping pad. Finally the whole gun got a rattle can spray paint camo job...it looks rough, has been hunted plenty, and is a real workhorse, good for one task, wacking turkeys!

I line the gobbler up, centering the crosshairs on his red wattles, and let loose with the Win XR high speed load of #5 shot. I am VERY careful to manage the trigger, pressing it away like a rifle shot. I fight the gun down and run the pump, but the tom is down, hard, and he never even flops.

Finally........later he weighs out at 18-1/2lbs, sports a 10 inch beard with 7/8" spurs, possibly a three year old. It was an easy task to tote that gobbler and my gear back to the truck in the full moon dusk!!!!!!! I'll try and post a pic later.

 

[stagpanther]

Congrats! sounds like a beaut!

 

[smee78]

That was a good story, I enjoyed the ending. Sounds like quite a bird you bagged.

 

[sako2]

Congrats on a fine bird.

 

[Scorch]

Nicely done, bama!

 

[Colorado Redneck]

Bama has a real knack for telling of his hunts. Never have turkey hunted, and live in the open west where sage brush and prickly pears are the climax species. But reading about these hunts, I'm right there with you. I even smell the exhaust of your vehicles!

 

[Jim Watson]

I am local to the Bama family and often have lunch with one or more of them.
There are a lot of stories to be heard.

 

[bamaranger]

Gobbler #1

Here’s a picture of gobbler from 4 April.

 

[bamaranger]

next 5 hunts, 10-14 April

Bad weather pushes through the area and then Easter Sunday, so I do not hunt for 5 days, on Monday the weather clears nicely and I'm in the woods.

10April-I'm off into Irish Hollow, a spot that always has turkeys and where I've heard multiple gobblers scouting preseason. The problem with Irish Hollow is that I can only hunt the south side. The bottom is a large private pasture and the north side is the opposing wooded ridge. The birds typically roost in the bottom and gravitate to the open pasture as the AM progresses. If I can lure a bird up onto my side, or one is roosted up there to start, I've had good success bagging him, but if they get to the pasture, it's usually over. And that is exactly what happens this morning. The birds are well into the property I cannot hunt, and when they get down, they drift further away to the northeast, and eventually out of hearing. I hold in the area, I may have heard one to the east where I'm good property wise but I hear nothing but other hunters hooting away over on state land. I'd reckon I heard 4 different gobblers, the area has potential, but as long as their flocked up, there's little chance of calling one out of the field.

11April-Why leave turkeys to find turkeys? I return to Irish Hollow and the birds are roosted in the same spot, and depart due north up the opposite hillside. Again, there were multiple gobblers together, but nothing I could do to sway them.

12April-Frustrated with Irish, I hit the Mud Club and narrow Beech Hollow, where the birds from the opening day and the disappointing cripple were roosted. There was an extremely large flock frequenting a nearby private pasture and I'm believing there are gobblers dispersed along the hollow length. At dawn I hear hens calling to each other nearby in the trees , but no gobbles. I work that initial spot for an hour, than pick up and drift west along the hollow floor. I call very little, we have a few other turkey hunters in this lease now and the birds have likely heard plenty. Heck, I've serenaded them myself on two mornings. I hear no gobbles but spend a long time in the hollow, finally exiting to walk back along the Co Rd and arrive back at my vehicle a little after 2:00PM, totally gassed.

13April-It rains that afternoon and periodically overnight. Good time for a field hunt and decoys the next AM. I return to KP's place, some scouting Easter evening yielded gobbler tracks about a 1/4 mi from his place. Perhaps those hens at KP's will drag those birds to the fields. At dawn a hen launches from a tree on the opposite side of the pasture and sails over to the wooded ridge behind me. A few minutes later I hear another turkey come off the roost behind me as well. No gobbles despite my pleading yelps, and no turkeys emerge in the pasture, though I stay 'till after 1:00PM.

14April-More storms push through the area and another good morning to field/decoy hunt. I take a chance and hunt state land near home, Betty's Ridge, again where scouting revealed multiple birds preseason. I hear and see absolutely nothing. The good news is that only one truck eases through all morning, but tomorrow, Saturday, the place will be packed as usual. It was worth a try, and week day pressure should only decline more as the season progresses, I'll hunt it again and roost a bit as the season passes.

 

[bamaranger]

3 more hunts-15, 17, 18April

15April-I oversleep big time and elect to hunt that afternoon. It's a Saturday and upon my arrival at the Mud Club there are boot prints and tracks everywhere. None the less, I stick a decoy out on a field and settle in the blind for the afternoon, but hear and see nothing.

17April-The road into the Big Club has been improved by the loggers and aided by a string of dry weather, and I head there this AM, back into an area I call
The Big Hollow. I settle down on a gorgeous point that projects out into the hardwoods and spend about 5 hours, listening mostly and hear nothing. There was a tom and 3 jakes here before season, but now, 2 weeks plus in, who knowns?

18April-Back to Big Club again, and the day starts out great when my ATV quits just after I go through the gate......"Ain't no gas in it!" Nuts. I have to change plans, I'd intended to hunt Middle Ridge, but cannot hoof it over there and arrive in any kind of pre dawn time. I push hard to North Ridge and arrive early enough to hear a tom gobbling over on Middle Ridge, about just where I wanted to be. ......Nuts again!

The bird on Middle ridge gobbles about a dozen times then drifts south and out of hearing. I'm thrilled when about 10minutes later a tom gobbles on my ridge out on the point ahead of me. It's a ways, and all down hill, but there is a pretty saddle out there and that is more than likely where he will strut. It takes me nearly an hour to weave my way thru the pines and *****foot out onto the near side of the hardwood saddle....it's 7:00AM. My searching calls go unanswered, but I plant myself comfortably with the saddle to my front, and we shall see.

At 8:00AM, a long rolling gobble drifts up from the hollow floor to the north, about a 1/4 mi away. It's far and I chance an answer, hard on the slate. A minute or so later, he gobbles again and it seems he's closer. Again, after a brief wait, the tom gobbles on his own a third time and I answer accordingly.
After a noted pause, he sounds off yet again. I begin to answer about every other gobble, and near an hour later, he's hard off my right shoulder, down in the bottom of the hollow below me, less than 100 yds. I scoot around the base of the tree to face downhill, get the gun up, then answer with the mouth call.......silence....for many minutes.

Finally, I hear him drum....he's close....where? It sounds slightly left, up closer the saddle, now off my left shoulder, and I scan hard that way, tilting my head slightly to a bit more peripheral vision back up on the flat. Where is that devil? He's here, ....somewhere. I focus again back downhill, and move my head back center of the buttstock. PUTT -PUTT immediately in front of me, close, and I get a brief glimpse of the alien red/white/blue head before he ducks and vanishes. He'd periscoped those all seeing eyes up just high enough to scan the area and picked my ever so slight movement up and busted me......Nuts, Nuts, Nuts.

I mope a bit, snack and water, and then climb back up, walk past the dead ATV, and out to my rig on the Co Rd. I finally get some luck when the log crew goes by and I bum some saw gas, walk back to the ATV. gas it and ride out.

 

[ghbucky]

Wily bird. Thanks for the entertaining reads.

 

[bamaranger]

gobbler #2

19April-I'm back on Middle Ridge the next AM, and you can be darn sure I gassed that ATV before I left the house.! I ride out to Middle Ridge, my intended destination yesterday before the fiasco. There was a bird gobbling freely out on the end of the ridge yesterday and I intend to see if he's there this morning.

Dawn breaks and there are plenty of owls calling, it's still and clear, so I just listen. Over on the end of N. Ridge, on the little saddle where I messed up yesterday, a rolling gobble floats up, just once. Unmistakably the gobbler that whupped me , who I've named Ol' Slick. Slick gets a break today, I'm after his vocal relative that hangs out over here. Way off to the southwest, the far end of South Ridge (the three ridges are arranged like a trident) a gobbler cranks up, just barely in my hearing. He sounds young, his gobble thin and rattle like. I can hear another, even fainter on occassion in the same general area. The Club narrows down over there, and the cover is messed up. A tornado destroyed he ridgetop and the hollow adjacent, logging activity a over decade ago yielded another pine plantation, and ther eis just not too much attractive woodland 'til you hit the property line. Still, the vibrato toned bird rattles on repeatedly, and I'm tempted to beat it over and try and locate him.

But the vocal bird does not sound like the tom I heard here on Middle Ridge yesterday. Too, experience has shown that tearing off after a gobbling bird in the distance is not always the best plan. More than once I've done just that, only to have the bird I chased after go silent, and one begin over where I was. I elect to stay put and see what develops here on Middle Ridge.

I pick my sit down spot carefully. Out here on the end of Middle, the ridge becomes very narrow and almost knife like. There is a crest just big enough to allow a 4wd vehicle to drive it, perhaps 20 yds wide, but it has been years since anybody took a full size truck out here. Now an ATV path threads along the top. It's relatively open too, giant chestnut oaks are sprinkled along the path on either side, but there is a distinct lack of understory or brush, the soil is too thin. The tip of the ridge cascades off into two distinct flats or narrow benches, each about 100 yds long. The ridge top is almost city park like. It is an absolutely ideal strut zone.

I settle at the base of one of the chestnut oaks, at the near end of the first flat, so that both benches are out in front of me. The further bench is just out of sight beginning 100yds away. The decline that creates it is not severe, just enough to conceal the roadway. I want to be on one end or the other of the pair , so that a bird does not surface behind me. Here on the head of the uppermost, I can see the initial flat well, and nearly see the second further out. Additionally, I do not disturb anything walking the length of the ridge to the other end. I cut a few leafy limbs and plant them as a thin screen in front of me.....it's 7:20AM.

My opening set of calls goes unanswered, I repeat them about 10 minutes later and then hush. The birds to the SW continue to yammer, and I question my decision to stay, but stay I do. The initial vim of the morning wanes and I relax and settle in fully, ..........here I be. As often happens with so many early mornings, I fight drowsiness, nod a bit and my mind drifts some. In the background, I hear the two gobblers in in the distance on occassion.

I'm snapped out of my dopiness by a distinct gobble out to my front, No gobbler visible, I risk pulling the old slate and run a soft series of yelps. He had to hear that, I ditch the slate, get the gun up and pointed down the ridge, and roll my mouth call snugly in place. We're in business. Five minutes or so passes and I think I see very slight movement and a dark shape just at the limit of my vision where the second bench begins and the path drops from sight. I dial the Leupold on the 870 up to 5x and scan the spot.....nothing....but I saw something I feel certain. Then, as I watch thru the scope, the unmistakable crescent of the tips of a gobblers fan appear just under the crest, then drop from sight again. He's here.

I yelp at him soflty with the mouth call, and get a gobble in response, the fan surfaces again briefly and a gobblers head pops up over the rise. But....something is odd....and I realize that there are two gobblers! That makes two sets of radar like ears and Palomar eyes to beat and while it is always exciting, I would rather have solo birds coming in. I always get excited working a bird, when I don't I'll quit, but now my emotions kick into overdrive. Ever so slowly the pair ease onto my portion of the ridgetop, parading down the AtV path, alternating breaking into strut, the other scanning. I've picked another big chestnut oak out in front as my range marker, I estimate it at 40 yds and will take the first shot I get once one of the pair passes. They waltz up to just on the other side of said oak and stall behind it, both break into strut and I can hear them drum. Thrilling. Occassionally, I get the slightest glimpse of a portion of an alien head and one eyeball peering out from one side of the tree or the other. C'mon ...take a few more steps!!!

Ions pass and finally one bird drifts right and pulls out of strut. I'd like him closer, he's slightly beyond where I'd like him, but it's wide open and I'm steady (well sort of. I decide to shoot, and catch myself trying to hammer the trigger. Settle down ranger , you've done this before. I get it together and break the shot, and the bird goes down hard, I fight the gun out of recoil , run the slide, and clamber awkwardly to my feet. The second gobbler, had flushed up into a tree nearby, when I stand, he sails off into the hollow. The down bird barely quivers, another clean kill with the Win, XR, 1-3/4 oz of #5 lead. I'm surprised when its 46 paces down to the bird, that's likely 45 yds!, further than I like to shoot, but this bird is done rightly. Multiple pellet strikes in the head, neck and wattles. His wing tips are heavily brushed, he's strutted plenty.

I pose a good picture (I'll post it later) pull out my snacks and water and sit in the sun on the ridge top with my prize. It's perfect out, no clouds, no wind, mild temps, a bird in hand. Later he goes 16-1/2 lbs on my grand dad's spring scale, a 9-1/2" beard, with spurs at 9/16", a good two year old.

Maybe I am a turkey hunter after all.

 

[Scorch]

Thanks for the story, bama!

 

[stagpanther]

I love reading these stories--true skill of someone who knows his prey--a challenging one. The turkey and deer up here I see all the time--except when I'm actually prepared to hunt them. It's almost a supernatural instinct--or they just know what a bad hunter I am. I can't tell you how many times both deer and turkeys have walked directly between my scope reticle and target bullseye.