BrentD
Well-known member
Turkey hunting is over for me. I ended with 2 birds and one big bowl of tag soup.
Today, it was one of the most exciting, satisfying, and unexpected turkey hunts I have ever had. The bird looked small to me, but he weighed a respectable 24 lbs 12 oz. with an 11" beard and 1 1/8" spurs. I think a 2-yr old, but could be wrong. He had a very blue head. More so than any mature male that I have ever seen. And no red at all.
To make a long story out of it, at dawn, I was waiting for a tom on a certain strutting ridge to open up so I could try for the 3rd time to sneak on him. Twice, he had somehow spotted me though I got under 25 yds each time. Well, he was silent this morning, but a bird 50 yds away in his roost promised me sweet things. And then disappeared for no reason. Finally, around 8 or 8:30, I heard a bird down valley and across a deep feeder stream cut, one of those super steep, muddy ravines about 100 ft deep and requiring all four limbs when climbing out.
He was moving away it seemed and quite a ways away to begin with. But he also seemed willing to talk to me. So we spoke for a while without much change. I wondered if he would start back to me, if I started towards him. So, I started calling and walking towards him down a long ridge to the bottom of that knife-slash of a ravine.
When I got to the bottom, sure enough, he had moved to be directly above me at at the top of the other side. It was a flat, open spot in the timber where I had set up several times and failed to get a shot on a 1st season gobbler at under 25 yds.
He did not seem to want to come down to me, so I started up to him. Unfortunately, my calling meant he knew exactly where I was and where to watch. Nonetheless, I got close to the top without being spotted and called from behind a tree. He would move left to right and back again, but he would not peer over the edge.
I took a chance and made a break for the next tree up the hill. Same thing. He would not come. Again, I moved when I thought he was off to the right on his beat. Still not coming.
So the 4th and last tree was skinnier than me, but I was sure I would see him from there. I made it up there, but when I was straightening up, I heard him putt and knew the jig was up. Having been beaten at this twice before, I decided to go for broke and lunge around the left side of the tree.
There he was, breaking to my right for the edge of the ridge, hammer down, in full take-off mode, maybe 10-12 yds. I swung, he launched, and my shoulder and arm hit the tree. I shrugged forward and tried to catch up to him, but the tree was still blocking me, and it was getting worse as he flew. I made another lunge and, though I was still stuck to the tree like Velcro, I got the gun around and broke the trigger as he cleared the tree tops above the ravine. When the trigger broke, I thought for sure, I was behind him, and I knew I had blown it again. But he tipped forward and traced a long parabola down and out of sight down through the tree canopy, followed by a long pause, and then a "Whump!".
I was just standing there staring across the ravine wondering just what the hell happened. Did I really shoot that bird? Two small feathers caught the sun as they floated above the trees. I think I did shoot him! Then, it occurred to me that he might be running off if he could gather his senses after that impact. I shucked a new shell in the gun and took of down slope to look for him. I didn't see him running on the other side, and I also didn't see him augured into the far bank like I thought I should. I was looking for a place to get down the last 15-20 ft to the creek to cross when I spotted him, face down right in the middle.
As he lay,
I was stoked! He was down and dead. But then I thought. "that head sure looks blue. No red at all. Had there been a hen up there with that gobbler and was it a hen I shot?" This might be very ungood. But no, he was the bluest bird and the least red mature gobbler that I have ever seen.
So there you go - a lengthy story. It may not sound all that exciting to you, but I can tell you it was awesome for me. 1/2 hr later, my hands were still shaking, and I was dancing on a cloud. Sometimes turkeys get me really wound up, and this was one of those.
Now begins the long grind until the opening of grouse and squirrel seasons.
Today, it was one of the most exciting, satisfying, and unexpected turkey hunts I have ever had. The bird looked small to me, but he weighed a respectable 24 lbs 12 oz. with an 11" beard and 1 1/8" spurs. I think a 2-yr old, but could be wrong. He had a very blue head. More so than any mature male that I have ever seen. And no red at all.
To make a long story out of it, at dawn, I was waiting for a tom on a certain strutting ridge to open up so I could try for the 3rd time to sneak on him. Twice, he had somehow spotted me though I got under 25 yds each time. Well, he was silent this morning, but a bird 50 yds away in his roost promised me sweet things. And then disappeared for no reason. Finally, around 8 or 8:30, I heard a bird down valley and across a deep feeder stream cut, one of those super steep, muddy ravines about 100 ft deep and requiring all four limbs when climbing out.
He was moving away it seemed and quite a ways away to begin with. But he also seemed willing to talk to me. So we spoke for a while without much change. I wondered if he would start back to me, if I started towards him. So, I started calling and walking towards him down a long ridge to the bottom of that knife-slash of a ravine.
When I got to the bottom, sure enough, he had moved to be directly above me at at the top of the other side. It was a flat, open spot in the timber where I had set up several times and failed to get a shot on a 1st season gobbler at under 25 yds.
He did not seem to want to come down to me, so I started up to him. Unfortunately, my calling meant he knew exactly where I was and where to watch. Nonetheless, I got close to the top without being spotted and called from behind a tree. He would move left to right and back again, but he would not peer over the edge.
I took a chance and made a break for the next tree up the hill. Same thing. He would not come. Again, I moved when I thought he was off to the right on his beat. Still not coming.
So the 4th and last tree was skinnier than me, but I was sure I would see him from there. I made it up there, but when I was straightening up, I heard him putt and knew the jig was up. Having been beaten at this twice before, I decided to go for broke and lunge around the left side of the tree.
There he was, breaking to my right for the edge of the ridge, hammer down, in full take-off mode, maybe 10-12 yds. I swung, he launched, and my shoulder and arm hit the tree. I shrugged forward and tried to catch up to him, but the tree was still blocking me, and it was getting worse as he flew. I made another lunge and, though I was still stuck to the tree like Velcro, I got the gun around and broke the trigger as he cleared the tree tops above the ravine. When the trigger broke, I thought for sure, I was behind him, and I knew I had blown it again. But he tipped forward and traced a long parabola down and out of sight down through the tree canopy, followed by a long pause, and then a "Whump!".
I was just standing there staring across the ravine wondering just what the hell happened. Did I really shoot that bird? Two small feathers caught the sun as they floated above the trees. I think I did shoot him! Then, it occurred to me that he might be running off if he could gather his senses after that impact. I shucked a new shell in the gun and took of down slope to look for him. I didn't see him running on the other side, and I also didn't see him augured into the far bank like I thought I should. I was looking for a place to get down the last 15-20 ft to the creek to cross when I spotted him, face down right in the middle.
As he lay,
I was stoked! He was down and dead. But then I thought. "that head sure looks blue. No red at all. Had there been a hen up there with that gobbler and was it a hen I shot?" This might be very ungood. But no, he was the bluest bird and the least red mature gobbler that I have ever seen.
So there you go - a lengthy story. It may not sound all that exciting to you, but I can tell you it was awesome for me. 1/2 hr later, my hands were still shaking, and I was dancing on a cloud. Sometimes turkeys get me really wound up, and this was one of those.
Now begins the long grind until the opening of grouse and squirrel seasons.
