...was a good one.
Started off hunting with a long time hunting partner. This bird gave his location away mid morning after gobbling at a crow. We made a move and after 30 minutes coaxed him into range.
That afternoon we headed into a different area to troll. At some point sat down for some blind calling and three longbeards slipped in silent. The birds caught movement and my buddy didn't have a shot. I was able to chop one before they got away.
The next morning me and my hunting partner, flyswatter, slipped into a river bottom near my house that neither of us have hunted in a few years. The first owl hoot revealed two gobblers roosted 75 yards away. We slipped to a tree and made our case. Flyswatter had this one dead by 7:00.
I struck this next bird mid morning on one of my hunting clubs. He played the game fast and lost with in 5 minutes.
Next hunt was with a buddy of mine that had never killed a bird. Three came in, only one left. He was hooked after pulling the trigger on his first tom.
A few days later I took another buddy that has never been on a turkey hunt. He was ruined. This bird was rocking on the roost and we slipped within 80 yards. He pitched down our way and strutted right to the gun barrel.
My next bird was by far the best total scoring bird I have ever killed. This old boy came in with a hen and came in running. I honestly thought it was going to be a two year old. After getting my hands on the bird he ended up having 7 beards and 1 1/4" spurs.
The next week found me and flyswatter at my hunting club again. We worked hard on a bird that whopped our butts pretty good right off the limb. A few moves and we had him interested again. Finally after a few hours we had him with in range and when I pull the trigger he breaks camp...a clean miss with not a feather removed. My mind, and my buddy that witnessed the miss, kept telling me that bird was old in age and long in spur.
Saturday found me after the same bird. He gave his location away with an early gobble and he was roosted in the same area as the week before. I sat up within 80 yards and was determined not to make a call until the bird hit the ground. He sailed 300-400 yards out of the tree and began gobbling profusely. I made several moves on this bird and worked my butt off to get him interested. He passed by strutting at 80 yards with a hen in tow. After passing I made one more move and fired him up again, this time he strutted and gobbled right to the gun. My mind and my buddy were right the week before, he was old in age and long in spur.
Now I am tired as heck, fighting a cold, and packing my gear for travels out west...dang I love this game.
