Alright fellows. I have been battling cabin fever and it'd been over two months since I have been in the woods. Doesn't help that almost all the snow has melted off and it was near 60 degrees out today. So since turkey season for me is still over two months away I figured we could at least relive some past hunts. So here's the question. What's your most memorable solo bird? I know that we all have favorite birds for different reasons, be it hunting with a family member or calling in someone's first ect. But I figured to start out here. Thanks
I am having a hard time choosing, so many birds that are favorites for different reasons but if I had to choose one it would be the bird I called Hook! I had so many countless hours in on this bird and I learned him for how he played his game, I hunted this bird for a solid three seasons and finally took him during season #4 with my Cody World Class Slate. I have his story posted here:
http://oldgobbler.com/Forum/index.php/topic,58988.msg582805.html#new
MK M GOBL
Birds that got away haunt me more than ones I killed. Most memorable one of recent years was Good Friday year before last. I struck him at 8:19 in the morning a few hundreds yards off and moved on him. Got sent up about 150-200 yards and started calling, he responded. I cut and yelped a few times and every time he hammered away. I went quiet and so did he, after 20 minutes I called again nothing. Start thinking I should have kept talking to him. Sat there another 30 minutes or so calling periodically with no luck. It's now about 9:30 and I'm getting up to leave and he fires off past where I was standing when I originally struck the first gobble. Off I go, chasing him through pine jungles. After another hour I end up back in the same place I started with him in the same spot. I said screw it I'll kill him here or start on him fresh in the morning, but I wasn't going to risk pushing him. Around 11 he got fired up and started moving in on me. At 11:20 I saw his white head slipping through cane and I killed him a second later. Twas 3 hours of gobbling action. Killed another bird the next day, but it wasn't nearly as fun.
The one I got right after my dad passed. I had a several yr dry streak and this bird gobbled it's head off for 90 minutes while it sidewinded over 300 yards down a hill to within 20 yards of my gun. Dropped him cold. A 1 1/4 spurred and 11 3/8 bearded tough (and dry) old bird. Since that I've gotten at least 2 gobblers each season. I always thought it was my dads doing.
My first. It was just a jake but it's my most intense hunt.
Great thread. :icon_thumright:
I think other than my first, my most memorable was a bird I never did kill. I figured him to be three years old the year I met him. He'd been shot at a couple times earlier that season, and just wouldn't come to a call. I hunted him several times the last week of season that year with no luck, and couldn't wait to take up where we'd left off the following year.
I hunted him on and off the next season and t'd off the boss hen enough one morning that she came looking for me. I had him, and a bunch of hens in front of me shortly afterwards, but I couldn't get a clear shot at him through all the hens. Every time I thought it was a done deal, a hen would step in front of him, or another would be close enough to side that I didn't dare shoot, and ended up watching the whole bunch walk out of range.
I probably could have killed him one morning about a week later, but he was standing at the outer limit of the effective range of my gun, where a misjudgement in range on my part might have ended up crippling him, and that would have been a crime.
The last time I ever saw him, I'd gone up the backside of the mountain where he and his hens roosted extra early one morning, and sat down against a tree and relaxed. He gobbled, the hens made all kinds of racket, they flew down and wandered away down the side hill to the field below. He'd gobble once in a while but not much. Just enough to let me know that he was still in the field.
After they'd wandered off, I moved over the crest of the hill and dropped down to a little flat on the side hill where I'd known him to strut now and then. About three hours later I heard what I was hoping for. He started go gobble like crazy. The hens had left him all alone out in the field and he didn't like it.
I made a few yelps just loud enough for him to hear and he double gobbled. Then he gobbled again, but I didn't answer him. The next time he gobbled I could tell he was back to the side of the field at the bottom of the ridge.
From where I sat I could see about a hundred yards down the side hill in one narrow spot through the trees, the rest of what I could see was within gun range. He gobbled again and a minute later he was in the opening and headed straight for me. He gobbled once more and kept coming.
Then, right before my eyes he just vanished. I was sure I would have seen him leave the opening if he had, and I wasn't sure exactly what happened. Did he move off when I'd glanced away for just a second to see about the rustle in the leaves uphill to my right. Didn't seem like he would have had enough time.
Then I decided that he must have stopped out a ways, and where he was lined up with a cherry tree that was about 25 yards in front of me. Of course he wasn't about to gobble at this point and let me know just where he was.
I sat there expecting him to show back up in that opening any minute, and hopefully still on his way. About ten minutes later as my eyes slowly moved from the opening to the ground within range on the flat, I caught a slight movement at the very edge of the flat by the cherry tree. As I focused on it, half of a turkey's head and an eye materialized tight along the side of the tree then disappeared.
I knew he'd seen all he needed to to know there was no hen there and my first thought was to rush the cherry tree, but what would that have gotten me? Another sketchy shot at best, so I sat there and tried to catch a glimpse of him as he left with that cherry tree between us. Not a feather did I see.
This was just one of the games he played on me, I could tell you more. That was a long time ago, and there have been others like him over the years, but I'll always have a soft spot for that bird. He gave me a lot of good times and taught me some valuable lessons. Whenever I think of him I have to smile.
Bob
Couple of years ago Me and my Daddy set up in the corner of a big field. In the corner there's a gate opening with a lane to where the turkey's are roosted. There's a old Farm-all tractor near the gate and the lane. We set up on the fence row, the tractor slightly out front.
Man he gobbled a hundred times as his hens were flying down. Once they were down, he flew down and was flat showing out.
My daddy, well he had to do the calling, because I was just about to hyperventilate, no this was not even close to being my first turkey. I could see the shadow of this strutting longbeard underneath that old tractor. My heart is beating about 9 thousand rpms.
I watched as he slowly rounded the front of the tractor facing me at 10 steps, full strut. My daddy putted once, he raised his old head up, I shot him in the face with a load of NITRO' COMPANY. 12 Gauge TC ENCORE. 11-1/2 inch beard 1-3/4 spurs. Heaviest bird to date 24 pounds. Not bad for a Rio.
HAVE A GOOD ONE
RAY
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There are so many memorable birds, but this is the first one that comes to mind.
I had just started turkey hunting completely on my own, as in going to areas I found and hunting those spots alone. Up until then, we hunted alone sometimes, but always at least in the same place as my father. There was a bird that was in one particular field every day. Well outside shotgun range from the nearest treeline and always with at least 1 hen. I never hunted him first thing in the morning for some reason, but I would always drive by him between spots, and was headed to hunt him late one morning. When I got there, someone else was hunting him already. I sat in the truck and watched these two guys for a minute. One guy eventually circled around this bird in an attempt to push him out of the field to the other guy (very illegal where this was). Of course, the bird didn't go to the other guy and I heard him take a hail mary shot and he never missed a beat. I had no other spots in mind, so I decided to hunt a piece of woods across the road from these guys that I had never set foot in. I didn't even know if there was enough woods to hunt at the back of this big field, but I gave it a whirl.
When I hit the woods, it was pretty tough to hear as I recall because of the wind. I remember thinking I heard a gobble, but it was too far off in the wind to know for sure if it was, and which direction it came from, so I kept hunting the direction I was. I finally got close enough to know it was a gobble, and knew with the wind I was close enough to set up. I carried a pair of foam carry lite decoys with me. A hen and a half strut jake. Because he was close, I think I set those decoys about 15 yards in front of me at most. This bird was hot and would answer back fast with every call, and he was moving to me fast. He came into view through the open woods well outside shotgun range and hit the brakes to strut and wait out the hen. He obviously knew the hen should see him, and he couldn't see the decoys. It seemed like he was there a long time, but did at least give me enough time to calm my nerves a bit. Just as I thought all hope was lost, the wind caught that jake decoy just right and spun it 90 degrees. He spotted that right away and was none too happy that the jake found his hen before he did. He immediately went into a half strut and bee-lined for that jake decoy. I'm still never patient enough when this happens to sit back and watch the show, so the second he stepped out from behind that decoy I leveled him. As I recall he had about a 10.5 inch beard and 1 1/4 spurs.
That bird probably more than any other I've killed defined my turkey hunting style. To this day I hunt extremely aggressively, call hard and move in close. It has probably cost me a few birds through the years, but it has killed way more that I never would have taken had I sat back and waited them out. Plus, its way more exciting!
As others have said, hard to narrow down to one
But if I had to choose it would be a bird I killed 10-12 years ago. It was an all day ordeal. Short version is me and a buddy finally doubled up and sealed the deal around 5:30 in the afternoon. When the smoke cleared we had two studs on the ground totaling almost seven feet of beard between them. Mine had 56" and his had 26". That's a memory thats deeply etched in my memory.
Quote from: guesswho on February 04, 2016, 03:36:04 PM
As others have said, hard to narrow down to one
But if I had to choose it would be a bird I killed 10-12 years ago. It was an all day ordeal. Short version is me and a buddy finally doubled up and sealed the deal around 5:30 in the afternoon. When the smoke cleared we had two studs on the ground totaling almost seven feet of beard between them. Mine had 56" and his had 26". That's a memory thats deeply etched in my memory.
We're you using the Badonka-Deke then
I have a more memorable hunt, but my nephew was with me, so I'll save for that for another thread.
My most memorable was the bird I killed with a crow call. I was hunting a lease, had already taken a couple of birds, but was new to turkey hunting and still figuring out what to do after flydown. Bumblin and stumblin instead of runnin and gunnin. So I was checking a spot I knew they liked to be later in the day. Blew my crow call and he answered, but about 200 yards away, along a sandy road that led to that spot. Eased a little way back and blew the call again - he was the same distance, or maybe a little further. Went to where I thought he had started and blew it one last time. He gobbled again, obviously heading away from me, towards the creek bottom. There was an old tram road that paralleled the road he was on and I hightailed it to that road. He had two options to get in to the creek bottom - on the road he was on, or cut over to the tram. I ran/walked to the intersection of the only road that cut over from his road to the tram - about 100 yards shy of the bottom. I sat down at the intersection looking along the trail leading to the road he had gobbled on. Slipped on my face mask. Put crow call away. Put mouth call in. Eased gun up and just as I was getting ready to call he rounds the bend, 30 yards away. He stops before I can even make a noise and the bead is on his head. Down goes Frazier! Never used a turkey call once. Just knew where he was headed and beat him to the spot. We called that intersection "Crow Call" until we lost the lease.
Quote from: tomstopper on February 04, 2016, 03:53:56 PM
Quote from: guesswho on February 04, 2016, 03:36:04 PM
As others have said, hard to narrow down to one
But if I had to choose it would be a bird I killed 10-12 years ago. It was an all day ordeal. Short version is me and a buddy finally doubled up and sealed the deal around 5:30 in the afternoon. When the smoke cleared we had two studs on the ground totaling almost seven feet of beard between them. Mine had 56" and his had 26". That's a memory thats deeply etched in my memory.
We're you using the Badonka-Deke then
No. Badonkadeke was just a dream back then. Lot of R&D went into the Badonka line.
On a side note, I'm working on another secret weapon that should be completed in time to reveal before this spring. Keep an eye out and I'll introduce it here in another thread.
There are a few that come to mind but the most memorable was probably one I killed in 2013. My dad had been hunting with me on a Sunday in May right after a big snow storm (gotta love Iowa). We didn't have much luck but drove by a field and saw a flock with 3 toms and several hens that were a few hundred yards from some public land. So a few days later I took off work and headed out there. I watched this entire flock flydown into the field about 150 yard from me. I sat there patiently for the next 2-3 hours, just calling lightly once in a while, and watched. There was an albino hen in the group that I called in, along with a bearded hen. I sat there watching these Toms strut, gobble, breed hens and just relaxed. Then like a flip of a switch, the hens took off and ran away from the toms out of the field. At which point it took all three toms about a minute or two tops to cover the ground between where they were and right into gun range, where I was able to drop the hammer on one. This was such an amazing morning!
I can tell you "the hunt"when I became hooked on turkeys. My dad was and still is a die hard turkey Hunter. He started taking me around 8 or 9 years old. But only a few times a year. Seems like he would kill a few birds then start taking me with him. I alwayse loved going. I killed a few birds with him before I could drive but once I turned 16 then I could drive myself and really began to learn. Before then I was alwayse the trigger man and never the caller. I asked to skip school one day go hunt by myself. Dad trusted me with a firearm and my grades were good so he said ok. This was the 1st time I hunted alone. We had a hunting lease of a little over 2,000 acres and at the time dad and I were the only people hunting it. This place was a turkey meca! Wish we still had it. But anyway.. So this morning it was going to be just me and the turkeys. I had to drive 45 minutes to get there and I remember being a little nervous to do it alone. It was misting rain that morning on the drive up but once I got in the woods it quit raining. Got on my atv and drove to the area I wanted to hunt. Then walked to where dad told me to hoot from. I didn't even need to hoot because a gobbler was hammering on the roost. I snuck down an old loggin road and got set up within 150 yards.my mistake was I set up in the bend of the road and didn't get hid good enough. I had few hens and jakes lead the way up the road and they saw me and I spooked them off. I was only inticipating one gobbler walking up the road. If that would of happend I would have killed him. So now since I screwed that up I began to walk another road yelping on a box call every 75-100 yards. After walking a quarter mile or so I had a gobbler fire off about 40 yards beside me. I was walking a road on a ridge top and that bird was below the shelf. I dove into a honey suckle patch and aimed my gun towards the gobble. I was trying to be so still and I was staring down the bead of my gun so hard that I didn't see the gobbler slip up the road to my right. When I saw him he was 15 yards away standing in the road. I knew I could not swing my gun to shoot him so I froze and kept my gun pointed infront of me. There was a pine tree blocking me from swinging. I also knew I couldn't call he was to close. He walked closer headed infront of my gun. Literally my barrel is in the road and I'm in this honey suckle patch. He got to 5 yards and blew my doors off with a gobble. I almost pissed my pants. Then he started drumming. I can't even describe the way I felt. I am getting chills just typing this story. He stood there that close for 5 minutes drumming. I was so afraid to move I let him walk away. I didn't even try to swing/spook him and shoot. After he walked off I think I just went back to my truck and went home to tell my dad. That was 15 springs ago and I can remember that moment like it was yesterday.
I love hearing turkey stories, so I'll try and keep this one going.
This one's from the year before last and goes down in my books as the fastest turkey kill ever. I hit a spot first thing in the morning I had been seeing birds frequently. Unfortunately, there was just too much road noise to pinpoint anything, and after a couple hours, I bailed out.
I hit the road to a second spot, pulled in and parked and grabbed my things. For some reason, I decided to make a call from where I parked and got a response probably 200 yards back behind the field I parked by. I loaded my gun at a trot to get set up on him and decided to stop and call at the back edge of this field to get a better bearing on him. I'd guess I was maybe 150 yards from my truck. I got no answer and decided to keep moving the edge of the field towards where he was. As I got about 20 yards from a hedgerow in the field, I decided to call again to see if I could get a response. This time he did, but he answered maybe 25 yards from me on the opposite side of the hedgerow. I hit the dirt (probably 10 yards from the woodline and no way to set up proper) and pulled my facemask up, still kneeling down so he couldn't see me over the hedgerow. As fast as I could pull up my facemask from around my neck, I see his fan over top of a small briar patch about 20 yards away. I was already kneeling, so all I had to do was stand up with my gun shouldered and leveled him as soon as he broke strut. I'm still not sure if he covered that much ground coming to my original call, or if I thought he was much farther away than he really was, but he took a truck ride either way.
Thanks for the stories fellows, here's mine.
After a sleepless night I finally got up at 3 am for my first Wv turkey hunt of the year. The hunting club is a good 45 min drive and I had a ways to go I. The woods so I was on the road by 3:15. Arriving at my parking spot I quickly unloaded the four wheeler and set off. I had about a mile to cover before I parked the bike and continued on foot.
Arriving at my normal parking spot I quickly shut of the bike and started off to one of my favorite spots off to the side of a large field that was the only remains of all the strip mining that took place many years ago. My grandad worked there for many years and retired once they closed up shop. I always loved hunting the same hills and hollers that he did back when he was younger although he was a deer hunter first and foremost.
After walking about a half mile I slowed down. I know where the turkeys usually liked to roost and I wanted to sneak in pretty close before daylight and be ready when the first hints of daylight showed over the eastern horizon. I quietly snuck in and leaned my back against the familiar old log and got comfortable knowing daylight was a good half hour away.
As I sat there in the dark I remembered all the previous birds I had taken from this very spot. It was a spot that I reserved for my first hunt every year and I was running a heck of a streak. Five Longbeards in five first day hunts for me up to that point. I only hunted that spot the first day and then would leave it alone the rest of the year and pursue my second bird elsewhere. We have a huge hunting club so there are plenty of options. While I was sitting there I noticed an unusual silence in the woods and then the flashes of lightning caught my attention. The dark clouds coming from the west were clearly contrasted against the normal night sky. Lightning was flickering almost constantly behind the dark clouds and occasionally a low rumble of thunder could be heard. The storm was approaching fast so I took my shotguns and laid it on the ground beside me. Wouldn't have done much good if lightning had struck but at least I felt a little better.
As the storm clouds passed overhead I was shocked that not a drop of rain fell. In probably fifteen minutes it was all over and and the woods resumed their normal night time noises. Sitting their with my shotgun back in my lap I noticed the sky beginning to slowly brighten and my anticipation rose because I knew it was almost gobbling time.
When he first sounded off I was shocked, it was not near the normal roosting spot but a good 3 or 4 hundred yard further off to the northeast. I sat and listened thinking that surely another bird would fire up in the normal location but the only other bird I heard was a couple hundred yards east of the first bird. Full daylight was approaching fast so I got up and started my sneak closer to the first Tom who was bellowing his lungs out and the other tom was doing his best to keep pace. I knew that a wasn't going to get very tight to him since there wasn't any foliage out yet and he would be on the ground before I was set up anyways so I didn't rush, preferring to go undetected till I was ready to open the party.
Sneaking into about 150 yards of him a quickly plopped against a tree and checked my setup. The ground was perfectly flat and the only thing I had going for me was a huge fallen tree about 40 yards out. The tom had gone silent so I figured he was on the ground and maybe already had a hen or three but as soon as I gave a flydown cackle he hammered a double gobble back that put my heart in overdrive! I got the gun up and waited a minute or two before giving a few soft yelps and the response was immediate. He was coming hard! Not a minute later I spot him coming through the trees behind the log. I noticed the long heavy beard swaying as he approached slowly shifted my gun to cover the end of the log so I was on him as soon as he came around it. He disappeared as he got behind the log but I wasn't worried, he was dead, he just didn't know it yet. I kept the gun trained on that spot and waited and waited some more. Finally after what seemed like 15 minutes I raised my head off the stock and slowly looked around. Nothing. Giving a few cuts on the diaphram I was shocked when he gobbled a good 150 yards out and slightly to my left. How that sucker had snuck out of there without me seeing him is something I still don't understand to this day. But he did it and after getting a few more gobbles it was obvious he was interested he wasn't coming back. Getting up I quickly circled to my right. Once I thought I was about even with him I cut on the mouth call again. He answered but he was on the move also. I tried working him but he would only stand in one spot and gobble. I knew my only chance was to get in front of him and of I went. I circled extra wide to cover the noise I was making moving so fast and got ahead of him circling clear out as far as I dared and quickly setting up with my back to another field that had a few rows of Russian olives growing along the edge. I gave a few calls and boom , there he was 150 yards out,dead ahead. Sitting there, gun at the ready on my knees I waited and waited. Finally growing impatient I called again and that $!#&*# bird hadn't budged. I tried a few more series of calls all with the same result except that the second tom I heard that morning decided to join in. I went quiet thinking surely one of them would break and that's when tell storm hit.
It was one of those storms that just hits at a moments notice. The sky was still bright but it was raining so hard that the water was running down my legs underneath my pants. Every time the thunder cracked the Tom's would gobble and the storm just egged them on. I stayed tight, gun up waiting. The storm passed quickly and it was over ten minutes after it started. The sunlight was blinding with all the droplets of water on the tree branches reflecting brilliantly. It was beautiful. The only thing missing was my gobbling turkeys. I wasn't going to call again so I just waited. After about twenty minutes of sitting there soaking wet I said the heck with it. Slowly getting up I decided that it was time to try and find something that would play a little nicer. I was only 100 yards from my four wheeler so I thought I would walk over to another field about a quarter mile away and see if maybe a bird was out there because of the rain. I didn't make it 50 yards before I flushed the second tom.(there's a lesson to be learned there). Figuring I had pretty well ruined things I headed off after another bird. I snuck over over and checked the other field out. Nothing. Called a few times and all I got was silence. I headed back and once I got to tell bike I figured what the heck and went back to the last spot I had worked those toms. Getting back to the same tree I sat down and gave a few yelps and was shocked when he hammered behind me! That sucker was out on the field edge I had my back to earlier. (Lesson reiterated ). Quickly swinging around the tree I barely got the gun on my knee when I heard the drumming. His fan was beautiful coming through the olive trees and and I just let him come he hit the woods still in full strut and at twenty yards I clucked on the mouth call. The head came up and it was over. He was a good bird, 10.5" beard and 1 and 3/8" spurs. I never weighed him but he was light. I would guess around 16 pounds. It was a memorable hunt and I got him even tho I shouldn't have. Never gonna forget him either.
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And guesswho, please don't keep us in suspense too long! I hope it involves that steer a deer fencing that Tom Miranda has been doing Commercials for.
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Beside my first, I would have to say the most memorable would be a tie between two birds last year but both due to different reasons.
#1) I got to a pipeline earl in the morning and just sat there drinking my coffee waiting for the morning to start to wake up. After about 30 mins, I quietly got out of the truck and got my gear on and just stood there and listened. After about ten minutes of just standing there I started to reach for my owl tube and before I could pull it out, a gobbler just started cutting loose. That bird never shut up and I didn't use a location call once. I instead, snuck up around to the left and got onto another pipe line and made my way to him in the darkness (because he wouldn't shut up, it was easy to keep tabs on him). When I got to within about 75 yards, I found a spot against a tree and was focused on the bend towards his location on the pipe line. I made a couple soft calls and then some scratching in the leaves and I swear that I can still hear him hitting the ground with a huge thud. That bird was so fired up that he came around that bend in just seconds and at about 5:45 am, he was dead on the ground. Barely enough light but enough to see he was a mature bird and with all that gobbling, it ranks as one of my coolest hunts.
#2) I was in a blind at the end of a field with a pond at the top of it (aprox 100 yards away from me) and above that was a steep hill of oaks. I had seen a mature bird in that area just before dark the previous night so I felt confident that he could have been roosted close by. I set up a strutting decoy and a feeding hen at 25 yards away so that if he made his way to them and decided to hang up, hopefully it would be no greater than 40 yards away (took me many years to learn not to put my decoys out at 35-40 yards away because I had to many come in and get hung up just outside of gun range). The trick is that I placed the decoys so that they both were facing me and I had some braided fishing line ran from the blind and to the strutters tail fan (made a small hole through the base of the neck and then put the string through it and attached it to the top center of the fan which was about 3/4 erect). I called periodically all morning with no luck. At about 8am I was beginning to pick up my things in the blind when I heard a gobble from the oaks on the hill side. I called back and was cut off by gobbling. I called once more and then just got ready. About 15 min later he made himself visible and began walking around the ponds edge so I called again. Again he gobbled but didn't want to come any closer than 100 yards. I slowly pulled on the string and the tail fan on the decoy came to full strutting position and everything changed. The gobbler immediately stopped strutting, tucked his wings and made a direct run to the decoys. It happened so quickly that I was scrambling to get my gun up and on him. When he got to within about 5 feet from my decoys he broke into a full strut and then kicked the crap out of my decoy in a split second. As soon as he knocked it over and landed back on his feet, I dropped the hammer and had another beautiful mature gobbler on the ground. I haven't used that trick or even that decoy since but maybe someday I will again. I can still see him running, then strutting just as quick as it happened then and I still get that rush. I just absolutely love hunting these birds and always will.
Like others have said hard to pick one as best but this hunt was very memorable....I hunt corn and soybean fields primarily along wooded creeks. I had been scouting this property all season , its late season now and I am out to fill my last tag. I had usually seen about a dozen turkeys feeding in this cornstalk field and knew they roosted in a thin strip of cottonwoods west of the ground I hunt about 150 yards. This ground is 160 acres, native grass pasture on the higher east side, sloping down to narrow cornfield on the west border with a five wire barb wire fence on west border....then past that about 60 yard wide soybean field (neighbors) then pasture where the roost was.
Problem was no cover on my cornstalk field so I knew I would have to use a ground blind. I woke up about 3:30 am thinking about how to make a movement decoy to help me seal the deal...I took my hen decoy and attached fishing line to her breast and the other end an old Zebco 2o2 reel from one of the grandkids poles. Packed up my ground blind, decoy bag (Jake and hen), my BPS 10 gauge, folding blind stool and headed out very early so I could get setup without spooking the roosted birds. Made it to my spot about 5:00 am and got the blind up, put it 35 yards east of the boundary fence. Set the decoys up about 20 yds west of the blind with an 8" eye bolt just under hens breast I ran the fishing line thru...then the Zebco back in the blind with me. About an hour later I am rewarded with thunderous gobbles to my west
and as it gets lighter I tug on the Zebco reel to try my movement hen...she works great....head goes down toward ground in a feeding motion. Fast forward the birds fly down.....four toms and seven hens straight west of me about 120 yards west in neighbors soybean field....then one tom and one hen fly down north of the other birds about 6o yards.
So they have plenty of hens and I decide to be very patient...every 15 to 20 minutes I tug on the Zebco to move the hen decoy and softly yelp. I'm having a great time watching the five toms strut for the hens....I can see in my binocs the single tom is a huge bird sporting a rope beard. Then it happens....the big toms hen leaves him and heads towards the four younger toms who are lined up in a row strutting and gobbling. She joins the other hens and in a panic the big tom follows her, as he nears the four toms they rush him and drive him back north by himself. NOW is my chance he's alone. I start calling more aggressively with some cutting all while moving my hen once in a while....it's too much for the old Tom and he starts moving directly towards my decoys, closing the ground fast. I move the BPS into position and wait for him to cross through the barb wire fence...he ducks under the bottom wire and just as he starts to get upright on my side I drop the hammer. Upon retrieving him I was excited to see a huge beard....14 1/2" and he was a load...later weighed in over 26 lbs. I took a few photos in front of my blind and started loading up for the long walk uphill back to my truck. With a 26 lb bird, 17 lb ground blind, 9 lb gun, decoys, chair etc. I have quite a load and its hot and humid...I'm 6'0, over 250 lbs , not in best of shape so I am soaked in sweat and stopping to rest every 5o yards...but I can't wipe the huge grin off my face. Great morning.