It's time before the season. Not much to do but scout n think about it. How bout some stories bout guys first birds? It's always memorable so let's hear bout it if it was 50 years ago or last year. Maybe including calls used, guns, etc
Ok I'll start it off though it's not a crazy story. I grew up in a state when birds were just being established n because of that once every 3 years or so we'd get a permit. I used straight mouth calls than n was running a Quaker boy of some sort back than. Didn't know too much n not many else did, the ones who did wouldn't tell you.
Was shooting in an archery club n one guy Jimmy n I hit it off. He was a turkey hunter, being I'd only get a permit once every 3 years I'd call for friends or hunt NY.
It was one such hunt in NY that I got to my spot in the Catskills just as light was breaking. It was windy n kinda hard to hear. Jimmy had given me some pointers n become excited as I'd tell him about my hunts n told me about locators n such.
As I walked down the path through the woods as far as I dared I decided to turn back still trying to locate a bird w a crow call.
Finally I heard a gobble. It was maybe an hour or so in. I closed the distance n set up. I called prob too much n a bird started closing.
Finally I saw him strutting, tip toeing it seemed down a slight incline. I was almost afraid to shoot, I was only a kid n afraid I'd miss but my shot was true and it was a nice bird. Full fan and around 1" Spurs if I recall correct. Think a decent beard too. It was a long time ago so I forget some of the particulars but I can still see that bird n the place in my mind.
Great day
I was 10 years old in 2004. Dad took me. I was using a 870 youth model with Winchester supreme's. Heard him gobble at daylight but was henned up till 9:30. It was windy and dad used a "world champion" Lynch box call and a Quaker boy Diaphram. To call him and 2 jakes in. He came in behind the jakes and I could take you to the exact pine tree in Grant county Ar. Started a love I'll never be able to shake.
(http://i347.photobucket.com/albums/p467/Rebel_Wetherington/image_zps3j5fhosj.jpeg) (http://s347.photobucket.com/user/Rebel_Wetherington/media/image_zps3j5fhosj.jpeg.html)
Quote from: RebelW on February 24, 2017, 02:55:28 PM
I was 10 years old in 2004. Dad took me. I was using a 870 youth model with Winchester supreme's. Heard him gobble at daylight but was henned up till 9:30. It was windy and dad used a "world champion" Lynch box call and a Quaker boy Diaphram. To call him and 2 jakes in. He came in behind the jakes and I could take you to the exact pine tree in Grant county Ar. Started a love I'll never be able to shake.
(http://i347.photobucket.com/albums/p467/Rebel_Wetherington/image_zps3j5fhosj.jpeg) (http://s347.photobucket.com/user/Rebel_Wetherington/media/image_zps3j5fhosj.jpeg.html)
Good look in' kid for an Arkansas boy. Nice gobbler too. If you are from Sheridan, do you know Rick Baldwins? If so, tell him you conversed with a guy who said he had the sweetest car on campus.
Yessir I'm from Sheridan lol born and raised! If you're from Sheridan everybody knows everybody! What class did you graduate in?
Quote from: silvestris on February 24, 2017, 04:55:58 PM
Quote from: RebelW on February 24, 2017, 02:55:28 PM
I was 10 years old in 2004. Dad took me. I was using a 870 youth model with Winchester supreme's. Heard him gobble at daylight but was henned up till 9:30. It was windy and dad used a "world champion" Lynch box call and a Quaker boy Diaphram. To call him and 2 jakes in. He came in behind the jakes and I could take you to the exact pine tree in Grant county Ar. Started a love I'll never be able to shake.
(http://i347.photobucket.com/albums/p467/Rebel_Wetherington/image_zps3j5fhosj.jpeg) (http://s347.photobucket.com/user/Rebel_Wetherington/media/image_zps3j5fhosj.jpeg.html)
Good look in' kid for an Arkansas boy. Nice gobbler too. If you are from Sheridan, do you know Rick Baldwins? If so, tell him you conversed with a guy who said he had the sweetest car on campus.
"Beginner's Luck"
I first started turkey hunting in 2010. I had deer hunted for a couple years but began getting interested in chasing turkeys. Two buddies from work were going on a guided hunting trip with a vendor and I kindly asked if I could come along for that year's trip. After securing myself a spot, I only had about two months to prepare. I bought a vest and a few calls and began practicing but I wasn't quite a turkey guru yet.
As a group, this would be our first time turkey hunting in central Texas. I had seen videos and knew that these Rios were more numerous and vocal than the "local" birds in southeast Louisiana. This would also be my first time ever on a guided hunting trip of any kind. After some troubles at the baggage claim at the airport (another hunter took my gun case by mistake and it took him about 30 minutes to figure out his mistake) we made our way to the ranch to get a snack and begin our first evening hunt.
The guides decided who would go out with who and we got dressed and geared up and took off to try and find some long beards. After getting dropped off by another guide, we starting to walk and call I started making small talk with the guide. I told him to be honest, this was my first time turkey hunting. Then he informed me of something that kinda scared me for a little bit - it was his first time too. At least for guiding for turkeys. Thankfully he did have experience deer guiding and cowboying on the ranch so he knew the land well. He also never personally killed a turkey with a shotgun but he had called quite a few and all of the guides did a good scouting so they had a good idea of the habits of a good number of birds on the ranch.
As the evening went on, we moved, called, and moved and called some more. It was his first time hunting using a mouth call and although he wouldn't win any contests, his calling was more than adequate and my confidence was increasing, especially after we got a response out of a bird or two. As luck would have it we actually got a gobbler to respond pretty well to our call and he was coming in slowly. We tucked in a group oak trees and took cover and waited. The bird continued coming in from the right from a mesquite flat into a small opening. The gobbler came strutting in slowly but steadily. As luck would have it, the bird came within range and I was able to take a shot on my first gobbler on my very first turkey hunt. After the bird started flopping we got up and high fived and celebrated for a bit. I grabbed my bird and we tucked back in the oaks and hoped for another bird that was willing to talk to us. Well it was quiet for the rest of the evening but I couldn't have been any happier.
As we got to our pick up spot, I told the guide I had an idea to mess with the guide and hunter coming to pick us up. I told him I would hide the bird behind a small bush and tell them that we didn't have any luck. When they came to pick us up the other guide was bewildered when I told him that we didn't even hear a bird as he knew we were in a good evening spot where the birds travel through going to roost. After chatting for a minute or two, I told him "Hey let me go pee before we go" Well I went behind that bush and came out from behind it with a big gobbler over my shoulder and everyone died laughing.
It might not have been the hardest bird to kill but it was a perfect first hunt for me.
(http://i173.photobucket.com/albums/w74/La_corey/160_0145_zpst9sddcem.jpg) (http://s173.photobucket.com/user/La_corey/media/160_0145_zpst9sddcem.jpg.html)
My first turkey was a heck of a hunt lol! It was a fall hen in 1993 when I was 12. I was hunting squirrels (during the fall turkey season). I heard something on the side of the ridge so I walked to the brow and peeked down over. There was about a dozen turkeys about 30 yards away and bang, I had my first turkey.
Oh yeah, the gun was an old Kasner over under 12 gauge. Don't remember the shell. I'm sure it was a high brass #6 of some sort
I was 6 years old. Me and my dad had sat in the blind all morning. It was raining. A flock came through, no gobblers in range. I ended shooting a bearded hen out of the flock. (https://uploads.tapatalk-cdn.com/20170225/714aca33c9af1b313457326734c08ebd.jpg)
Sent from my VS987 using Tapatalk
1)Didn't know anything about pattering a shotgun(non existent)
2) no red dots, scopes, tru glo sights
3) no heavy shot
Old box call, old Remington, Winchester super x 5 shot 3". Old man who taught me everything I know was working an old box call. Called in 2 Jake's I thought it was a monster. We got a double header! You woulda thought I'd killed 65 lb bird with 8 inch spurs and 100" beard! It's amazing how we have e been introduced to technology and get so advanced, lol. Still hunt with old man who uses old box call with old Remington with super x 5 shot. He don't pattern no shotgun but kills big birds every year about!
My first year turkey hunting, and I was in my early 20's in college.... Self taught, and hunted by myself with no instruction but a book or two and the woods as my instructor...
Very high density turkey population, and I would love to hunt there again (property long since sold). I basically eventually blundered into a bird, but learned a lot in the process... In the following years, I became much more successful on that ranch, and had some great hunting experience that at the time was not really appreciated.
I was using a Quaker Boy Box call (which has been ruined but still in my possession). He gobbled a few times, but came in silent... Only reason I killed him, is that I was atop a high steep ridge that had taken a while to get to... After not hearing the bird gobble for some 20 minutes I had all but given up on him...
As I made a final note on the box call, I heard that "PUTT" from right behind me, and saw the bird maybe 30 yards away (I am sure he spotted me fiddling with my call)... Nice looking beard, and he took off running, and I swung on him and flopped him... He rolled down the ridge probably 100 or more yards, and I was right behind him (probably not the most prudent of actions looking back).
He was a jake (looking at the tail fan), but had about an 8" thick beard on him... I called everyone who would listen to tell them of my incredible hunting prowess...
Pardon the brevity but I'm typing on my phone. I was 14 and a friend of the family took me hunting at his place. Within a half hour of my first sit, first time out 3 big gobblers came running in to a pot call. I picked out what I thought was the biggest and dropped him. After the shot I was so weak in the knees I could barely get to the bird. I was hooked.
I was using his gun, an old 870 with Greenleaf camo shooting 3 inch Winchester reds in #4.
Quote from: jwright8 on February 24, 2017, 07:07:21 PM
I was 6 years old. Me and my dad had sat in the blind all morning. It was raining. A flock came through, no gobblers in range. I ended shooting a bearded hen out of the flock. (https://uploads.tapatalk-cdn.com/20170225/714aca33c9af1b313457326734c08ebd.jpg)
Sent from my VS987 using Tapatalk
Looks like you killed it with one of those water cannons.
First turkey was on a piece of public land I had just started out on thanks to a tip from a call maker I met at the store earlier that year.
I think it was my 3rd hunt when it came together. Had heard a few very distant gobbles mid morning. Eventually headed that way through fields and woods, and came up to a field where I saw a strutter. Snuck my way through cedar thicket and sat down on some poison ivy under a cedar on the edge of the field.
There were maybe 3 toms, some hens and jakes. I made some clucks and purrs (probably sounded like crap) on my homemade bamboo tube call. One of the hens got pissed off and came running straight to me. Two red headed jakes came right behind her, and I popped one at 6 yards. I can still see that bird hit the dirt in my mind, something I will never forget. The bird smelled like smoke from dusting in the burned field. I've had a special liking for hunting burned fields since then.
Sent from my iPhone using Tapatalk
Didn't get the early start on spring hunting that many did. Dad worked most days so we didn't go much when I was younger. Had tangled with some birds when I was a freshman in college but couldn't get them to cross the creek to my side. Buddy told me we needed to go across the creek and get to them so one morning that's what we did. Crossed the creek and he started asking about where they were roosted. I'd told him to the best of my ability and sure enough, if I'd been any closer to correct we'd have parked right under them. Birds gobbled their heads off that morning. Bird we targeted was around the ridge from us so we could stay out of sight of him. He flew from the roost right to us and walked behind a large stump. I pulled the single shot 10 ga up and leveled him at a whopping 18 yards. It took a while for me to get seriously afflicted with the bug but it's grown since then and now I'd almost rather hunt spring birds than most other things.
"My" first bird I never pulled the trigger on, a buddy and I drew tags together for that season and I called the bird in for him! Guess I started my roots in this right from the start. #2 bird I called in for my Dad (Buddy & I did not draw tags) and my actual first bird came in my third year of turkey hunting,
MK M GOBL
Quote from: RebelW on February 24, 2017, 05:07:36 PM
Yessir I'm from Sheridan lol born and raised! If you're from Sheridan everybody knows everybody! What class did you graduate in?Quote from: silvestris on February 24, 2017, 04:55:58 PM
Quote from: RebelW on February 24, 2017, 02:55:28 PM
I was 10 years old in 2004. Dad took me. I was using a 870 youth model with Winchester supreme's. Heard him gobble at daylight but was henned up till 9:30. It was windy and dad used a "world champion" Lynch box call and a Quaker boy Diaphram. To call him and 2 jakes in. He came in behind the jakes and I could take you to the exact pine tree in Grant county Ar. Started a love I'll never be able to shake.
(http://i347.photobucket.com/albums/p467/Rebel_Wetherington/image_zps3j5fhosj.jpeg) (http://s347.photobucket.com/user/Rebel_Wetherington/media/image_zps3j5fhosj.jpeg.html)
Good look in' kid for an Arkansas boy. Nice gobbler too. If you are from Sheridan, do you know Rick Baldwins? If so, tell him you conversed with a guy who said he had the sweetest car on campus.
From England. Graduated from the UofA with Rick.
First bird was a jake. Not much to the story. Public land, another hunter spooked him over towards me, he saw my deke and ran to it. I shot him.
(http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v476/RutnNStrutn/Hunting%20Pics/firstturk.jpg) (http://smg.photobucket.com/user/RutnNStrutn/media/Hunting%20Pics/firstturk.jpg.html)
My first gobbler, now that was a story!! He came down a firebreak shock gobbling to a fire engine's sirens and air horns. Being a firefighter :firefighter:, I knew I was destined to kill him. After the truck got out of range, I called to him and he gobbled. :icon_thumright: Not knowing any better at that early stage of my turkey hunting career, I kept calling, but he kept coming in on a string, gobbling the whole way. It's better to be lucky than good sometimes!!
Finally I spotted the white crown on his head bobbing down the trail! I called to him again, he gobbled :gobble: and stepped off of the trail into the little hammock my decoys were set up in. He strutted back and forth, but was at the edge of the range my gun could shoot back then. I was tempted, but didn't want to wound or lose him. I clucked at him and gave a couple of soft yelps, and he slowly eased his way in. It seemed like an eternity, but he was finally standing next to my hen dekes, 20 yards away. I fired and he was mine!!! :icon_thumright: :you_rock: :fud: :turkey:
The best part was, my buddies were supposed to meet me right near the hammock on the firebreak, at 10:00. They got there a few minutes early, and were standing there talking softly when I shot. They feared they had spooked my bird and I had missed, so they took off running all the way to the trucks. When I got back, they acted like they had been at the trucks all along. Once they saw I had my gobbler, they told me the true story. :TooFunny:
My first gobbler. Public land Osceola, 18 pounds, 8" beard and 3/4" spurs. At that moment I became an official turkey hunting addict!!! :funnyturkey:
(http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v476/RutnNStrutn/Hunting%20Pics/fireturk.jpg) (http://smg.photobucket.com/user/RutnNStrutn/media/Hunting%20Pics/fireturk.jpg.html)
I have already told about my first bird so I will tell about my second which also was my first adult tom.
I think the year was 2003 and I was hunting the same farm I had taken my jake on the previous year. It was only a small farm and birds didn't typically roost there but would move thrugh the property on a regular basis. I stuck out that morning and was tired of sitting with nothing going on so I started walking the perimeter of the property calling. I hadn't made it a hundred yards when I had a tom fire back and he was close! Just out of sight over the ridge on the next property. I set down immediately and got ready. I gave another set of calls and got an immediate reply so I stayed put. For the next half hour it was back and forth with neither of us budging and I was getting impatient. I got up and started to sneak to the ridge top to see if I could get a peak down the other side and see why he was hung up. I got to the fence line and looked down the other hillside. Nothing. Giving some quick yelps I heard a fierce gobble not 75 yards away. My heart jumped and then I heard the laughter. It was my girlfriend at the times brother. He was sitting in his deer tower just bellowing with laughter. He had a gobble shaker and was having the time of his life screwing with me. He owned the property next door and knew i was in there hunting so he couldn't pass up the opportunity. After he came down and we had our laugh I decided to hit the other end of the farm. Sneaking along I got within view of the barbed wire fence that marked the end of the farm. I let out a set of yelps that were immediately followed by a gobble in the distance. I immediately thought I was being screwed with and just stood their thinking of how I was going to get even.
A few minutes later a crow let loose and two gobbles responded not 100 yards in front of me! Well I hit the dirt. Belly first and it the gun up. Three toms came into view on a dead run. Slipping under the fence the came forward a bit more and stopped looking for the hen. At about 25 yards I let er rip and was up and running to grab my first longbeard. He was still flopping when I grabbed him and I learned why you don't grab a flopping tom by the leg. He got me good across the palm. I didn't care though and my first stop on my way home was to you know who's house to rub it in a little bit.
Sent from my SM-G800R4 using Tapatalk
I started turkey hunting in 1982, though the first gobbler I killed was a few years later than that. I made the mistake of inviting my neighbor along on my first ever turkey hunt. He was mostly a rabbit hunter and didn't quite get the concept of sitting still. My plan was to hunt the woods down the road owned by a friend where I deer hunted. I heard a gobbler in there the morning before and backed out. Figuring it may be easier to tag team the gobbler, I stopped by my neighbor's house to see if he was up for the pursuit. We agreed to meet the next morning with enough time to hike the mile in to the old logging road to get set up before it got light.
I met my neighbor on his back porch in the dark. I was wearing military surplus camo with one of those next to useless camo mesh face masks that was essentially camouflage gauze with a thin elastic band at the top to fit under a hatband. The matching gloves were most likely designed by a mosquito, because they could feed right through it without even slowing down. My neighbor was dressed in the only hunting clothes he owned, those brown canvas duck pants with the nylon brush buster lower leg and thigh protectors, plus a matching jacket and hat. Well, the hat matched at one time, but that was a long time before. He'd been wearing that jones style cap for work and it was sun faded badly enough that it almost glowed in the dark.
We eased down the logging road to a rock outcrop with a few downed logs beside it. I set my neighbor up in the bend in the road where he would have more cover and I set up in the rocks where I could see down the road a little ways. A lot longer past daylight than I imagined it would happen, a gobbler fired up from his roost down the logging road less than 200 yards away. Not knowing what to do, I cranked up the old Lynch box call I owned and made a horrible squawking noise on it. The gobbler fired back immediately from the limb and I answered back right away. He gobbled again, but this time I remembered reading something that said not to call back too much, so I shut up. The gobbler hollered from the limb some more, but I stayed quiet. Meanwhile, I could hear my name being called by my neighbor for me to keep calling. Every gobble was followed with; "JIM"..."JIM" call him!! in louder than a whisper, like somehow I couldn't hear the gobbling. I looked over towards the logs and saw the almost neon faded cap rotating back & forth like a lighthouse beacon. I held my mesh gloved hand up with my palm facing my neighbor, like a stop motion. He kept on..."JIM!" "Jim" "Call TO HIM!"
I heard wingbeats and realized the gobbler was on the ground. Before long, I saw this huge black blob moving towards us down the logging road. I could hear him spitting & drumming, but I had no idea what in the world was going on. The gobbler was still out of sight of my neighbor, the lighthouse, because of where the guy happened to be set up. The gobbler let out a booming gobble and the lighthouse swung around to look up the road. About then, the gobbler stepped into a beam of sunlight, puffed into full strut, and his colors exploded in shimmering iridescence. I was absolutely hooked on turkey hunting. I had my Ithaca 37R up and resting on the rock in front of me. The gobbler wasn't in range and he couldn't quite see the lighthouse yet either. A few steps closer and all off a sudden the gobbler dashed off faster than I knew anything could move through the woods PUTTing loudly as he went. "Call Him BACK!"
That was the last time I took my neighbor hunting. After that, I did get access to some nice land, but I had to call for others before I killed my first. By calling only, it made me sit back and pay close attention to what turkeys would tolerate and what they wouldn't.
My first bird was a text book hunt on a two year old gobbler that ran right to the gun, straight off the roost. It was the easiest hunt I've ever had.
Jim
I remember it like it was yesterday. It was a light steady rain on that fateful morning 18 years ago. A young 12 year old boy set out with his father having the excitment one would expect from any boy on one of his first hunts. The scene was set we had our decoys out overlooking a green field that was a known turkey hang out. Shortly after first light a mature tom appeared on the far side of the field with a few hens after closing the distance from 150 to 50 yards over the course of 30 min I sat with sure anticipation that this would be my first turkey. The gobbler past just out of range never breaking inside that 50 yard mark.
Left with dissappointment after the turkey exited. This dissapointment would be short lived as a flock of about 6 Hens and Large jakes appeared in the field at 100 yards. After a few magical calling sequences by my father and mentor these birds slowly worked into range. Fighting what seemed like an impossible task to get the front bead of my 870 Express on the lead Jake. I waited for the swinging front end of the gun to pass by the gobblers head and pulled the trigger. BOOOOM the shot broke the morning peace and the moments that followed are memories that will live etched into my memory until the day I die and live in so many fellow hunters. The 17 lb Jake rolled over wings flapping my father and I took off after the down bird. A short battle later I had my first gobbler.
Looking back on this day and remembering the countless times this has played over some continue to be with my father some alone I reflect on the pursuit of spring turkeys and thank God we live in a place with the freedom to pursue these wild birds. As the years pass and my childhood has turned into a profesional world I still constantly am reminded times like described earlier are what really matter in life. As I write this today I booked my flight from Houston Texas back to Western Pa to hopefully live out this scenario one more time with my father this April.
First and second from public land here in SC on an evening hunt. Briefly, called several jakes and killed one at 20 yards. Hunted on and about two hours later struck up two toms that came in with a hen running and clucking along behind them to keep up. Shot the lead tom. Was extremely proud of myself. Had called in a couple of turkeys prior to that time but something always seemed to go wrong, till that day. I show this one anytime I get the chance. 1986
(http://i142.photobucket.com/albums/r94/hattT05/P1310010_zpse79ad9ae.jpg)
Great memories guys
I killed my first bird on my second hunt when I was 8. One of my dad's good friends took me in Scooba, Ms. Pretty textbook hunt looking back. We were situated in a branch of hardwoods along a creek. bird flew down about 80 yards from us and came right in putting on a show. He acted like a 2 year old but is still one of my best birds to date. He had an 11 1/2" beard and 1 3/8" spurs. I was instantly hooked. That was 19 years ago.
I managed to luck into my first one I called up by myself at 13 as I had blown who knows how many opportunities from not being able to sit still and be patient. I almost felt bad how I managed to kill it as I got to a fork in the road and eased around and saw a strutter heading the other way so I plopped down purred and clucked and he turned right around and came straight to me. At the time I don't think I have ever been prouder than toting that bird back to the camp in Scooba after a couple years of zero luck unless I was hunting with my dad or one of the older men at camp.