I had one of the most exciting hunts of my 30 years of turkey hunting Friday morning. But, I left the woods with one of the worst feelings in the world. After blanking in the forest, I headed back towards the house to hunt some private land. I called my wife to tell her to be careful taking Coleman to school in all the fog. She informs me that the birds were hammering all around the house and they were gobbling at 6:15, the earliest she had heard any this year. I hurry to a spot down the road and make a long walk down a powerline. I don't hear any birds as I make my way into the heart of this tract of land. I go to one of my favorite spots and set up to do some blind calling. It's not long until I finally heard a bird that sounded like he was about 200 yards away. He gobbles a few more times, but he is not very interested in my calling. After sitting for awhile, I get up and ease towards him. When I get pretty close to him, I can heard hens with him cutting up. I set up again and he is still not very interested in me. After about an hour of this, I decided to try something different. I rarely use a box call unless I am using it as a locator call or to get a shock gobble out of one. I was toting a Primos custom box call that was custom made for Stronghope Baptist Church's "A Hunt for the Crown" event. Preacher on here is the pastor at that church. A lady that works with me and is a member of Preacher's church gave it to me last year after she won it because she knew I loved turkey hunting. It's a beautiful call and probably doesn't belong in my vest, but it sounded too sweet not to use it. I got it out and started cutting on it, followed by some agressive yelping. I was cut off with a double gobble and then another gobbler joined the party. The hens must have got pissed because they started ripping back at me. I traded the box for my Hook's Sassy Gal and he was eating it up now. I could tell all of them was heading my way and it wasn't long before I could hear him spittin and drummin. It was by far the loudest spittin I have ever heard in the wild. The more vocal gobbler was the first to arrive and he come over the crest of the ridge in front of me in full strut. I could hear the hens right behind him and the other gobbler bringing up the rear. He put on a show for about five minutes with ground shaking gobbles and then he started to my left going away from me down a draw into the bottom between us. I saw my window of opportunity and I pulled the trigger. He went to flopping, or so I thought, and I turned to watch all the chaos from all the other birds that had arrived at the scene. I looked back towards the bird I shot and I didn't see him flopping around any longer. Panic set in and I rushed over to where he was standing only to find several piles of feathers, including one wing feather. In the heat of the moment, I had rushed my shot and after looking for him for about 30 minutes I was sick. That was a long walk back to the truck. I had went from the ultimate high to the worst feeling in the world in a matter of seconds.
Saturday morning I decided to let my "honey hole" birds settle down for a few days, hoping the one I shot survived. I went back to the forest and found more hunters than birds. I heard several, but never really got set up on one. I decided to throw in the towel and headed back to the truck. Even though I had my cell phone with me, I had not felt it vibrate when my nephew texted me at 7am letting me know he heard one back at the "honey hole". He was hunting some family land down the road and heard one in there where I had shot the previous morning. I hurried home and rushed back to the same area. When I arrived at the crime scene from the day before, I kept hearing what sounded like drummin coming from the same spot they were at the day before. I picked out another tree about 100 yards away and got set up. I just listened for about 10 minutes, hoping to hear one gobble. I didn't hear a gobble, but I was now convinced it was surely one close and I could still hear him drummin. I got the box call back out and was cut off by two gobblers. I cut and yelped a few times to check their temperature, but they weren't budging. I listened to them drum and occasionally gobble for about an hour. I started running some nasty yelps on my Light's Out aluminum pot and they got fired up again. I could hear drummin getting closer, but couldn't never get a visual because it was too thick between us. Then like a ghost, he appeared at about 30 yards in full strut. I had my gun on my knee pointed his way, but wasn't ready to shoot. He went behind a tree and I eased my gun up. He came out from behind the tree and I let the 870 eat at 25 yards. This was a no doubter as he barely flopped. The other bird actually gobbled as I gathered up my gear. He finally putted and flew off when I ran to my bird. A missing wing feather revealed it was the same bird I had shot the day before. I couldn't believe that not only had he survived from a pretty good peppering the day before, but he was still trying to do his deal. I am pretty sure he was a 3yr old with a 10.75" beard and 1-1/8" spurs. I toted an extra 18 lbs back to the truck, but it was a much better feeling than the day before. I pulled the trigger at 9:45 on Friday and at 10:00 on Saturday.
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Atta boy Jody. I absolutely love the foot on the neck pic. It does make you feel better when you know he survived and wasn't coyote bait. At least for 1 more day. Congrats,
TRKYHTR
:happy0064:
Very nice,congrats!
That's awesome Jody---- You da man!!
Congrats!!
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Congrats. I enjoyed the story.
Congrats!
Congrats!! :icon_thumright:
Congrats on the bird. Great to see that he made it through the ordeal for one more day. Way to go!!
Good job Jody!
Congratulations
Lets get togather this season and get on a bird, Congrats!!!!!!!!
Congrats. Tough ole birds they are
Congrats, nice bird! :icon_thumright:
Congrats on sealing the deal on the 2nd chance!! :icon_thumright: