My first bird had a rattle at the end of his gobble. He was in his strut zone and I must have called to him for a couple of hours. I stopped calling and he showed up after about 20 minutes. He gobbled at about 30 yds and I almost dropped my gun. I pulled the trigger and I must have lifted my head at the same time. Never touched him. Took me 10 min or so to get composed and get back to normal. He was so big I told my friend he was Tomzilla. I was hooked for life! :blob10:
I remember it well...it was my first one by myself, I was 17 years old hunting on a WMA in North Florida. I had just learned how to call on a diaphragm, was using a triple reed(brown) Perfection mouth call(killed a bunch with this call)....Sat down against a tree and started calling at daylight, no gobbles early, I started kee-keeing and yelping, the Tom just freaked out, gobbling like mad and ran as fast as he could from about 400 yards right to me....shot and killed him at 20 yards and was hooked for life. I have since used the kee-kee-yelp run to kill a bunch of Spring toms.
It was pouring down rain with lightning and thunder, it was crazy to even be out there. I was soaking wet and cold. I saw him in an open spot and immediately went into a low-crawl position, the things we do when we're young. I crawled up to a tree and managed to get myself up against it, wet, muddy and shivering.
I tried to call but the sound that came out was more of a squawk. Finally, I was able to make a decent call. I put my gun up on my knee and about that time I saw a hen, maybe 30 yards in front of me. I was still shaking hard. She started walking to my right and it was then that I noticed the gobbler. More shaking as he started walking behind a large tree. I made an adjustment to my muzzle and when he stepped from behind the tree, I shot him. It was the most exciting hunting experience I'd ever had and probably still is.
Thanks,
Clark
Yes...............and no. Because there were two of them and I don't remember which one was in front.
It was the first time I ever tried to call one in. Was using a tube call I had hacked out of a 35mm film can with a surgical glove reed and black tape holding it all together.
I got a pair of jakes wound up and they stopped to fight it out just beyond where I could see, then came waltzing in like two kings of the hill. I doused one of them at about 25 yards with a 2 3/4" magnum Federal #2 shot from a Winchester 1200.
1981 - 82-ish maybe.
I can close my eyes and see it like it was yesterday. He was gobbling on the roost and I got as close as I dared. I could hear him fly down and I thought he was long gone. A few soft calls and he came running . I needed to move my gun some and was afraid he would see me. A little adjustment and there he was 20 yards he stopped, gobbled and BOOM !
It was April 19th, 1984. Dad and I broke ice as we crossed a low spot on the way to a small oak ridge. It was the first turkey hunt for both of us. We sat 100 yards apart, and much to my surprise, a gobbler opened up less than 100 yards to my left. After about fifteen minutes of me calling way too much on my Quaker Boy Kee-Kee, the gobbler walked into my life and changed me forever. It was dumb luck, but I sure am thankful for it.
It took me 3 years to kill my first one on Timber Co. land. You had to buy a permit. This bird keep gobbling and circle around me headed to his strut zone. After he got to that location he just kept gobbling so i eases his way slipping along until i just could see over the rise of the hill and he was like a stone statue standing and i raised my old Browning A5 full choke 32 inch barrel and pulled the trigger he hit the ground. I jumped and ran and put my foot on his head. He was A Jake with 5 inch beard. Still have that beard and shell in my gun safe. I was one proud hunter. I guess from that day forward i felt like a turkey hunter for the first time....Still have that old Browning A5 also in the safe....killed several turkeys with it thru the years until these choke guns came out....This was almost 35 years ago...lol.... The call i used was a homemade snuff tin can cut with a have moon on the lid and a piece of condom rubber. My wife always looked funny at me for having those condoms in the truck and vest...i wonder why....those were the days and i still have those 2 old snuff can calls.
My first was the first time I went turkey hunting. A good friend had invited me to go many times but I never had any interest in turkey hunting. Well we go hear a few birds but can't close the deal. My friend had to go to work but I had rest of day off so he suggested I go hunt the swamp below his house. So off I go to the swamp with my Lohman pump call. I hit the pump call and one gobbled and he was close. Some how I was able to call this turkey in and boom turkey down. So I called my friend to let him know I got one. He didn't believe me. Asked how big it was I told him over 10 inch beard and Spurs were over inch. Again he thought I was lying. So I loaded up the turkey and took it to him to prove I wasn't lying. My first gobbler on my first turkey hunt had an 11 1/4 inch beard and 1 1/4 Spurs. Friend was blown away I had called in and killed that turkey and I became an addict. Can't wait for March 15th to get here!!
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First one a called and killed on my own I was 13. I had bought my first dedicated turkey gun the fall before. It was a Stevens model 94 Long Tom single shot 36" barrel. With it in hand a couple Remington 3" "Nitro" #4's and my little cedar box call my father had made me. I broke day on ridge pasture with river bottom running along the west side and swing around to the south and a wooded holler running along the east side. Standing there in the dark shivering not sure if it was more from excitement or my dew soaked wet paint legs and crisp predawn air. As the Whipoorwills fell silent and Eastern sky started to give way to a new day I heard a distance gobble to the south. I stood my ground and waited to see if there was a bird roosted closer. It wasn't long until a bird fired off roosted across the holler to the east maybe 400 to 500 yards away.I started off toward him and he gobble pretty steady on the roost as I made my way across the field. I had made it to the field edge and the barbwire fence it sounded like he was already on the ground and heading in my general direction. I took out my call and with shaking hand I scratched out 3 yelps and he cut me off before the third yelp reached my ears and he was close. There was a lighten struck tree about twenty yards out into the field from the fence line. The lightning had left he tree trunk stand about 10 to 12 feet high and the top and broken off and was hanging down a long side the tree trunk. I plopped down in front of tree top and wiggled back into it just a bit. I was able to scratch out a three more nervous yelps and he cut those off as well and had cut the distance in half of the last time he gobbled. I set my little call on the ground beside me and propped my gun on my knee and cocked the hammer as he had to be just under the break of the hill headed for the field. It seemed like a life time but couldn't have been a minute or two I saw a white head coming up the hill toward me. As he made his way up to the fence I could see he had a nice beard. He reached the fence and I bared down on him with the barrel of my gun drawing figure 8's around him. As he stepped through the fence and stretched his head up to look for the funny sounding hen that should be feeding there in front of him I pulled the trigger. I didn't see the impact of the shot to the turkey as the recoil of the gun and me setting flat on my butt tipped me over backwards into the tree top. Not knowing if I had killed the gobbler or if he had flown or ran off I gathered my self together and crawled out of that tree top. As I stood up I was able to see him lying there on the fence line. I was so overjoyed I whooped and hollered as loud as I could.That will be 35 years ago this spring I can relive that hunt along with the first bird my father called in for me at the age of 8. I missed him and he had the longest bearded I have see on a bird to this day at about 12 yards with a little Stevens 311 SxS .410. but that's another story for another day.
yep may 2nd 1970,did'nt have much of a clue what i was doing.learned what little i knew from listening to a well worn out cassette tape put out by dick kirby.i bought a quaker boy old turk mouth call.that's where i took my online name from.i called that tom from across a 400 yard field.he came across that field so fast i'm all pumped up guessing this turkey hunting easy.wrong the bird hooks off to my left goes up a logging that winds the woods and up a hill.oh shoot know what do i do.as soon as he is out of sight i take off to my right to circle the hill to get above him,i wasn't there but 10 min.out of breath from running my 250 pound butt up the hill.i make one yelp he comes about 20 yrds.from me i dropped the hammer on him,down the hill he flopped almost to the same spot i started from.bird had a13 in. beard and 1 in. spurs needless to say i was elated.first and only bird i had mounted.still remember like it happened yesterday.
Called in 3. I shot the first to give me a clear shot which would be the second bird i saw. He was a beautiful 2 year old and he will forever be etched in my mind. 14 years old and did it all by myself. I had no mentor or coach. I am very proud of it.
Like it was yesterday, 1986 called him up a mountain. I wore a one piece military suit with a boonie hat. Looked like Gilligan in camo. Shot him shaking like a leaf with a 2 3/4" Remington 1100. Called him in with the first and only call I owned, a Lynch Fool Proof box # 101 still have it and the gun. Hooked me like nothing else I've ever done.
I could take you to the spot, well probably get close. 1976 there were not many birds around or hunters. It was a jake that came running to his death. Shot him with an old single barrel 10ga with #4 buck shot, had no clue what I was doing. But turkey hunting got it's claws into me deep. 40 years have gone past, I have chased them in 10 states and made thousands of memories since.
1998, eastern Ohio. My buddy and I were as clueless as could be. After a quiet first couple hours we had heard zero gobbles. It was a beautiful 70 degree day but the woods were dead. We stood up to ponder our next move and I decided to blow a crow call. 6 birds hammered back to it about 50-60 yards away just around a curve in a the logging road we were on. Butts hit the ground and within a minute or so we had a double on the ground!
Not really
I don't think one ever forgets their first. But it is a few special birds that I couldn't kill that are more firmly etched in my mind. The special thing about my first was not the kill, but rather the life changing event that occurred some three hours following the kill. The loss of my turkey caller led me to Ken Morgan's house and the beginning of a close friendship that endures more than five years after his death. Life takes some interesting twists and turns.
My first hunt was with a homegrown slate using a piece of carbon arrow as the striker and the weapon was an older PSE Thunderbolt with an overdraw rest and fixed pins. I didn't own a shotgun but figured bowhuntiing might be fun. I had never hunted anything before. At 46 years old, hunting seemed like a good activity to have a go. My goals were to find a bird, call in a bird, draw on a bird, shoot at a bird and ultimately kill a bird. Accomplishing any of these would make the season a success.
It was the fifth day in a row getting up at 3:30 and sitting in the woods behind the house by 4. My setup was not good and by listening to where gobbles were coming from managed to get a bit closer to where they might be. Just like the previous four mornings the gobbling was no closer to where I was and out of pure frustration, decided to take a walk to burn off some aggravation and try to warm up.
Wandering along the cross country ski trails in the area was much easier than going through the woods. Early May in Vermont has a few bugs and without any leaves, the sightlines are great. A gobble came through the hemlock stand up the hill and lured me back into the sticks. Moving uphill the gobbling kept getting louder so I ducked in behind a blow down white pine for some cover. After nocking an arrow I knelt sitting on my feet enabling me to draw. My call was weak and scratchy with the occasional squeak. It was not anything resembling sexy as I had heard on You-Tube instructional videos. Whatever sounds I was making did the trick and three gobblers came in. One to the other side of the downed pine. If it was seven feet away it was far. Two more were just up the hill. I never saw any of them.
My inexperience had me just about rubbing through the slate with non-stop noise making. The gobbles were loud and didn't slow down. At this point it dawned on me I was unable to feel my feet or lower leg which were in a slumber so deep Sleeping Beauty looked an insomniac. A glance at the watch shown forty minutes has passed since I'd moved. The gobbles began to fade and no amount of my "calling" made them return.
The adrenaline rush had subsided and it was time to head home.
At that very moment of concession a GOBBLE, GOBBLE exploded behind me with such noise and power I felt it resonate in my ribs. The new adrenaline hit was so fierce it popped me to my feet. I'm not sure who was more surprised, me or the three birds standing four feet away. They looked at me. I stared back at them. Time stopped for a beat. Simultaneously my hand went for the bow and the Three Amigos turned tail and ran. My draw was smooth and the sights aligned right on the back of a bird as it ran away. Which one is a Tom? RATS! in all my studying to identify a tom or hen it never accrued to me to make the ID from the back. After letting down the bow and watching them all run away I stood motionless and exhausted.
With tingling feet and a post adrenaline hangover the walk home was brutal but gratifying.
The experience reminded me of my days playing video games at an arcade. The first quarter in a new game usually had good results. The next few quarters not so much.
It took two more seasons but I finally got one.
I think the first one I ever called in my buddy killed. I for sure remember the first couple I did solo. Both were memorable in their own ways.
Yes, spring 1998. called in and killed my first one at a buddy's farm. Weird morning, he gobbled good and was coming in when the cattle decided to come see what the commotion was. He walked off the other way, not willing to cross the cows to come to the decoy. a few minutes go by so i get up to run them off. They are half pets and only start running in circles around me bucking and playing. I'm trying to figure out what to do when the neighbor shoots! I just knew it was "my" tom, but it wasn't. At the shot, all the cattle ran out of the woods back to the field and as I'm standing there like a moron the tom gobbled about 150 yards away, he never really left and somehow I never spooked him!
I dove back for my cover and started calling, he responded and marched in. I realized I really didn't know what 40 yards looked like and was so frazzled that I shot him at 45 or so. Killed him, but I did have to do the foot on the head. He was walking half strut and probably would have walked right in to 25 yards, but I was an idiot back then. Well, I'm probably still an idiot, but I have more experience!
Yes, early morning a bit chilly but otherwise perfect weather. Sunrise comes, I hit the call, and immediately get a response from the other side of a field across the river. I'm calling, he flies down and starts gobbling and strutting all over the place! Long story short I called him and his buddies in from across the river, across the entire field, and past two groups of hens, gobbling the entire time!
I thought I was God's gift. I'm telling you I was the greatest turkey hunter that ever lived.....and I missed him. Haven't ever had one react to a call the same since.
Esse quam videri
"My" first turkey wasn't even mine... So back in the day a buddy of mine had said that they had seen these turkeys where they deer hunted. We talked about it a bit and wanted to try this turkey hunting thing out so we headed out late that summer on a trip to scout for birds and knock on some doors. Once we got there and as we were scouting the area where they hunted for whitetail we seen all these scrapes in places that didn't make sense, next thing you know we bust up a flock of turkeys! So after talking with the landowner and getting permission to hunt there the for next spring, we did a little research and applied for our permits. Back at home we raised some of those bronze breasted farm birds, I started watching those birds to see how they interacted with each other, our hens could fly into the trees at night but the old tom didn't get off the ground but about 4ft. I actually learned a lot from those birds and they talked profusely, them hens were my teacher on cadence and rhythm, body language and more. From the time they woke up and did the tree talk to when they were talking to the old tom. I spent countless hours watching and learning from those barnyard birds, as we didn't have wild birds where I lived at that time.
We were as green as anyone could be and no one I knew turkey hunted or had ever been, so out to the local sports shop and I bought the "Truth About Turkey Hunting" Vol #1 it was the first year it was out (I have bought every one out since then too, been kind of a tradition. Year #28 is out for 2017). I watched that video like it was the bible and bought myself a slate call... really wished I would have kept that one, also had a mouth call from Primos that came with the tape then I bought a Red Wolfe's Gobble Shaker. I practiced my calling with those hens and the old tom tirelessly, learned everything they were saying and when, made my guesses as to what they meant and learned what each sound was called. I got to see all this day to day what they did at different times and that interaction between those birds. So here comes spring and we have our approvals from the DNR, WI has a lottery system. My buddy bought a H.S. Redi Hen decoy with a moveable head, could just twist it to a different position.
We got up there a day early for a five day hunt to scout and talk with the land owner, she tells us about
them birds and how they come out in the back of the field every morning over there... So we go out and look and see sign, tracks, poop and a wing feather. Yup decision is made lets hunt here, this lead to lesson #1 turkeys do have really good eye sight, spooked a bird that first morning... WI season at that time closed at noon, and the rest of the day was uneventful. Day 2 we setup a little different and we are not having any luck, we see some birds and hear them but just not doing things right yet...Here we are on day number four and we have learned where those birds roosted and we are setup and are in sight of those birds, hens are a talking, toms are gobbling and this to me feels like home. I start with my tree talk, birds fly down and a tom breaks from the flock to my calling, must have been better than 20 birds together out there but this guy was liking my calling. We watched him strut and gobble his way in off the field and down a bit of the old logging road we were set up on, decoy was set a bit past us and as him came my buddy put him down! He was froze, white knuckled and speechless he didn't even get up, I jumped up as soon as I could see that bird go down, ran over and put my foot on him like I had seen and kept yelling to my buddy "Shawn we did it, We did it!"
I never did get a bird that first year, didn't matter we had success and a lot of lessons were learned during those early days. As I told my Dad the story of the hunt and it got him to want to try this turkey hunting. More than anything else my dad raised me on hunting and fishing and "Turkey Hunting" was the one thing I got to teach my dad about...called in his first bird for him too, since then Dad has passed on and I have some great memories and how much this has been a part of my life and still is, it's not about the kill... don't get me wrong still like to pull the trigger but it's about family, friends and those I share the hunt with.
Hoped you enjoyed the read
MK M GOBL
Absolutely. Was a 17# Jake in southeast Oklahoma. Rolled him up with my old 3" 870.
Better than the first I ever called in is the story of the first I ever called in for my son. We don't always have turkeys around our place, but one spring when he was about 12 we did. So for a couple Saturdays in a row we'd get out in our woodlot beside the pasture, set up, and call. They were roosting on the neighbor's property and sometimes came to the pasture, so I set him against a maple tree along the fenceline next to a little cedar and facing in the direction of where we figured they entered the pasture. I set a jake and a hen decoy along the edge about 30 yds behind him and then set myself up just inside the woods. Didn't hear any gobbling, so just sat there calling every 15 minutes or so on my box call.
About 10am we hear a gobble down in the bottom where a creek runs through the pasture, about 150 yds from us. I call, he gobbles, each time getting closer. He's coming in from the opposite direction from what we set up for, so before he tops the rise, I get up and hustle further back into the woods and circle around to the other side of where my son is. There was no time to do anything about the decoys. No sooner than I get set, a jake and a nice gobbler come marching over the rise, spot the decoys and make a beeline to them. I call, he gobbles, and they start coming down the fenceline looking into the woods for the "hen".
From my position, and with all the underbrush, I could not see my son, but could see the maple where he was at. Those birds came down the fenceline right to him, so I quit calling and waited for the inevitable shot. But there was no shot, and pretty soon they were standing right next to that tree, so I started second guessing myself thinking that must be the wrong maple tree. The jake wanted to come into the woods towards my position, repeatedly, sticking his head under the bottom strand but then changing his mind and stepping back. The gobbler was all fanned out and strutting about 5 feet from that maple but not going anywhere, so I yelped again and he gobbled.
Turns out, the kid was indeed at that maple with those birds. For some reason, he never thought of turning to face the direction they had come from before they came into sight, and so there he sat. Must have been something with that longbeard gobbling just 5 feet away. He later told me the gobbler was slightly behind him, but he'd have shot that jake as he was trying to come under the fence, only it was right at his feet. Eventually one of them spotted him, putted, and they took off back across the pasture. The kid jumped up, snapped off a shot, and missed. So we called it a day, but he was so psyched he spent the rest of the morning on the computer shopping for turkey calls, choke tubes, etc.
It was April 11, 1990. My second hunt in my county's first ever turkey season! Remember it as if it was yesterday, nearly 28 seasons ago :happy0064:
My first one was a Jake. He was gobbling good down in the canyon and worked his way up towards me. I was in a clearing along a hillside but there weren't any trees to sit against. The bird came up, out of range, and was looking for the hen. He then worked back down where he came from so I quickly snuck over towards where he came up, I laid on my belly near a little patch of buck brush and yelped with my mouth call and he came right back up and I whacked him.
It's been really neat to read all the accounts of first turkeys, Although the stories vary, the one thing that really comes through is how life-changing it was for everyone.
78 and first day turkey hunting. A couple hours tops and came in from behind, crosses to the right . Didn't dare move for lynch jet slate so a cluck on the the penn woods double reed got a gobbling reponse . As his head went behind a tree I raised the old single shot 12 with 2 3/4" and 4 shot lead put him down hard at 20-25 yards. Easy stuff.
Funny how all this time it don't get any easier or any less exciting.
Gets you up early and going year after year.
yep it was awesome. I was using a "raspy old hen" diaphragm and it was raining. He gobbled and showed himself about 250 yds away up a hill in a field. He was solo, and walked all the way down the field, hopped a stream, and walked to within 30 yards of me in a cow field. He never stopped, and never strutted but I think it took at least 20 hours for him to get there
Remember it perfectly. Got one to gobble way down a ridge. Sounded like he was heading toward a field, so I took off running to get in front of him. Set up on the edge of the field and hit him with a Quaker boy box call a few times. He gobbled just out of sight for 30 minutes or so and then shut up. Out of nowhere he appeared about 30 yards away in full strut. Came right into my hen decoy and I killed him at twenty steps.
I remember it quite well. Dad and I went out together for the first time since I was in middle school. Called in 2 jakes. Dad "messed up" the countdown by firing on 2 instead of 3 but I still managed to get my bird while he missed his. It was a great morning and a blast to be there with my dad.
Yes I do it was a Tuesday morning in march on national forest land didn't hear anything that morning started walking and heard some hens raising heck so I cutt at them and they yelped and cutt back and he fired off jumped against a old burnt pine and got ready went back and forth with the hens till the boss hen broke off and came to check me out bringing the gobbler in tow was so nervous i didn't get down on the gun enough and missed him at 10 steps. Learned a lot that morning
My first bird that I actually called in gobbled at a Dove cooing, right after a light rain ceased at daylight.
All I had was a Quaker Boy, Old Boss Hen. The call sounded terrible to me, and I heard Bok, Bok.
And then wings beating. Figured I scared him out of the country!
Sucker flew in right on top of me. Was not near ready of course. Didn't even have my camo clan mask on.
He stood there wondering what the heck, just long enough to get a bead on him.
Yep, never forget it.
I hunted him every morning for a week, was gonna quit, getting to the last week of Pa. Saturday rolled around, clock goes off, shut er down and back to sleep. Wife literally kicks me out of bed! Roll into my spot, he won't gobble, he gobbled in the same spot every day! I jumped in the truck to head to the "old farm". Heading out, I roll the window down and hear him gobble, he moved on me! I pulled off, jump out, load up and head in. Crisp cold Pa. morning...like 20. See your breath...and HIS!! Literally made three calls on an old DD Adams slate, 5 minutes...he's riding home in the F-250.
I love to drag those photos out.....how young I looked! One of the best days of my life.
I was 12 years old on my families property. My dad didn't hunt but I was teaching myself listening to those Ben Lee tapes on how to call turkeys. Went behind our house alone and use my Lynch's Fool Proof like a champ that morning. The birds were gobbling good that morning but patience was not a virtue at that time, so I shot the first legal turkey I could. It was #16 Jake, but it was a trophy to me. I was absolutely hooked from that point on. Nearly 30 years later I still get just as excited, as that 12 year old, hunting these wonderful creatures.
First bird I ever called in alone is one I will never forget. I arrived at the farm I was hunting and began to listen. I heard a few birds fire off and there was one in particular I was going to set up on. On my way, another gobbler let out and he was a lot closer. As I began to move to him, I could hear the hen tree yelping that he was answering. I set up in between the pair, but closer to him. I softly yelped one time, and he cut me off with a double gobble. He proceeded to gobble for another 10 minutes or so almost every breath. I did a fly down cackle and he double gobbled again. I heard him open his wings and he gobbled every breath to me after he hit the ground. I shot him at 15 yards. He was a classic instance of finding the right bird and saying just enough to get him interested. Of all the birds I've called and killed, he's probably the most memorable.
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Absolutely, It was was my second bird ever but first I actually called in. He was roosted the same place he was the day before the Missouri opener, maybe 1991?
He gobbled early one time and I moved into about 125 yards and sat against a giant oak. He gobbled a few times only all on roost and I gave him a couple tree calls on an h.s. lil duece and set it down, he did not answer the calls but I knew he should have heard them. The leaves were really wet from all the rain the previous day and I never heard him coming but picked up movement about 75 yards out and thought it was a coon.
As he got a little closer he lifted his head and I almost chit my drawers when I realized it was him, he was headed straight to me, he started to angle a little to my right and went behind a giant oak about 25 yards out, I pointed my 835 to the other side of the oak and when he crossed my front bead I clucked, he stretched his head and I fed him 2 1/4 oz's of 4s!!!
Turned out to be the perfect setup, he was roosted on the end of that ridge overlooking a creek bottom, I had accidentally set up in the perfect pinch point where the ridge narrowed from both sides steeply and he was forced to walk right through there, talk about dumb luck!!!
Like it was yesterday
I clearly remember the first bird(s) that I called in and...
1. couldn't get a shot at.
2. shot at but missed.
3. shot.
...in that order.
First bird I called in was a jake. He came running in so fast that he was standing 10 feet away before I could even pick up my gun. That was the first of MANY lessons!
Spent my youth chasing longbeards not knowing what I was doing. First bird came at 19yr old I climbed a high ridge and sat down not knowing I had the perfect set up as there were 3 lone longbeards not 70yds Infront of my position. They came in off the roost but I didnt have a range finder then and thought they were too far and too bunched up later I placed it at 38 steps but it had looked much further out. I spent the rest of the morning kicking myself sitting at the edge of an old over grown field when a bird gobbled behind me out in the field. Everytime I called aggressive the hen he was with would walk the other way so I stopped calling loud and just did some purring and clucks on a knight and Hale sla-tek (ceramic). The hen closed closer and the round fan followed. The brush was tall and all I could see was his fan and the occasional Bob of his bright head. I probably pushed the shot through too much brush becuase I knocked him down but when I ran out there he jumped up and took flight right Infront of my face but I was able to shoot him again as he came right up Infront if me like a good pheasant flush and I was hooked.
It was the year after that a met a guy a little older than me who offered to take me out in NY state and show me more of the ropes. We've been chasing these birds every chance we get since.
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It was 1991 I believe the third year you could legally hunt wild turkey in Ontario after they were reintroduced
Very few birds occupied huge amounts of land. Very few people had even seen one and even fewer had hunted them . When I told folks that I had a turkey tag and was going to try for one they said "good luck with that waste of time".
The fall before while trout fishing a small stream for specks I had seen a group of turkeys along a railway track.
I had not retuned there until opening day of the season, I pulled into the provincial wildlife area parking lot and slammed the car door just before first light and two gobblers sounded off at the slam, I couldn't
Believe my ears. From there they kept getting gobbling over and over on the roost at each other.
I crept as close as I dared and got set up, as soon as they flew down I gave a few yelps on a Quaker boy old grand master box call , the only call I had , still have and still carry. The first bird came running in at full speed and stopped about 5 feet off the end of my barrel staring at me in my military greens and bandana face mask, boom I shoot and nearly miss him, just catching him with the edge of the pattern. Shot him with a browning bps #4 game load and full choke.
After that I was totally hooked and have hunted and tagged out every season since.
Turkey is my absolute favourite game to hunt, I just love it.
All the folks that told me I didn't have a hope that fist season couldn't believe it when I rolled into town with a turkey that day. A day I will never forget.
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)
The first bird I called in was a hen. She walked within 5' of me looking for the "hen" she heard. I was pretty much hooked at that point. I called up two jakes the next morning and got my first turkey.
I proved that calling too long and too loud could still work. :TooFunny:
First bird I ever called in is burned in my memory forever. It was also the first and only bird I've roosted to the exact tree the night before and snuck in under him in the complete dark. I couldn't see him, but knew within 10 feet where he was, and I was able to sneak down the ridge and set up above the tree he was in, but about parallel height with him. Perfect spot for him to set his wings and glide to me, but I doubt I knew it back then. It was also the first bird I killed with a muzzleloader shotgun. Don't ask me why I was hunting with the muz and had never killed a bird on my own, but I was.
As it got light, it turned out there were 2 gobblers, not the one I had heard the evening before. I was using my old 2 sided quaker boy slate call. I never heard him fly down, but pretty soon I heard them gobble from the ground, and a full fan showed up just below the ridgeline. Pretty soon, I saw his white head and he was in range. I still have that gun, and it shoots about 2 feet low, so I had to pull some kentucky windage, but he went down. 8 inch beard and 7/8 inch spurs.
A good friend went back to the exact same spot the next morning and killed his partner. In less than a week, there was a new bird in that spot. Definitely one of those places that a tom will always claim as his own.
I remember it like it was yesterday....
My cousin and I wanted to give turkey hunting a try. It was the first year or so turkey hunting was allowed in NC. We both knew nothing about turkey hunting but the little we had heard here and there from our deer hunting buddies. We both hit the woods early with very few calls including the only one we could make sound like a turkey (push pin call). We sat about 15-20 yards from each other so we could cover both sides of this point in the field and see each other somewhat. Nighttime turned to daylight and the woods came to life with birds gobbling right behind us in the swamp on large cypress trees. I can remember the hair standing up on the back of my neck when they sounded off. Made me nervous a little and still does today.
We started calling with soft tree talk and the birds immediately would cut us off. We sat quietly for what seemed like an eternity. Next thing I knew "BOOM", my cousin shot, scared the living crap out me. Well, he jumped up and ran out to make sure the bird was down and he grabbed it by the neck and sat back down. I thought to myself, "You lucky DAWG"! The hunt is over and you got one and I didn't. I had no idea what was about to take place. Another nice gobbler was heading straight to me from my right. About 20 minutes had passed and there he was strutting at my decoy. I raised up my brothers Stevens 20 gauge with no special choke and "BOOM" slammed him. My cousin and I jumped and hugged each other in that field and this hunt will be forever etched in my memory for as long as I live.
Blew the owl call once...two turkeys gobbled....3 yelps on my slate...two turkeys cut my yelps....two turkeys came up strutting....only one flew away
I was a young fellow (kid) in 68 in Central Florida. My Dad had just started letting me sit by myself but was always within sight of him. I had an old PS Olt scratch call and had been making some noise on it which I assumed sounded like a turkey. While picking my nose I heard something I had no idea what it was. Out of the corner of my eye I see this gobbler, he looked like a VW Bug with the doors open and trunk up going around in circles. He was the source of the odd sound. Remembering how my Dad always taught me several times before to ease the gun up slowly to avoid being spotted I decided to use that as plan B. I decided jerking the gun up quickly would be the better option. It worked out and the gobbler just closed his trunk and doors and put his head up. I got the bead on him (not sure where) and pulled the trigger. The gobbler went to flopping and I put some moves on him I learned from watching Gordon Solie and Championship Wrestling. It wasn't long and my Dad was there and took control of the gobbler. In all the excitement I left that call at the base of that live oak. We looked for it the next weekend but never found it. I'm hoping what's left of it is still buried there somewhere.
The first bird I called in was back about 1985. I had an old Lynch box and a single shot h & r 20 gauge. I just sat down in the woods and started cackling away on that box. I heard something running up behind me and I just knew it was my squirrel dog that followed me there. I jumped up and turned around and there was a jake standing there about 10 ft away.
Of course I tried a head shot and missed. I think I went back about 3 times that afternoon and tried to call him back up.
The first solo bird for me was a public land Jake. I had just got my driver's license and mom let me skip school one day to hit some public land close to the house. I heard a bird on the roost and called entirely too much with my Quaker boy box call, but he came in anyway. Shot him at 20ish yards with a 3in federal #6 blue and gold box (pre flight control). I thought I really was hot stuff walking back to my beat up truck with a bird stuck in my vest.