I haven't taken a gobbler in five years. Not from lack of getting turkeys, but my boy, who is twenty, has shot every one I have killed during that time. I have killed every one, but he shot 'em. This year I told him I was going to get one. The evening before the 2019 Virginia opener, we went to our farm to see if we could roost one for the next morning's festivities. We arrived early - about 6:30PM when darkness didn't fall until 7:45PM or so. We had no more than closed the truck door when we heard one gobble on the ridge on our side of the mountain. We stood and listened to that bird and one other until we were pretty certain we had 'em pinpointed in their trees. The mountain there is STEEP and that silly bird roosted on the VERY TOP of it. We were dreading the climb the next morning, but you know, a bird in the hand thing...Up at 4:00AM for the twenty minute drive and hour and ten minute climb gave us just barely enough time to reach the top and hear him gobble the first time at 6:21AM. We sat up on him at 70 yards from his roost tree with a beautiful flat in front of us and between where the turkey was. We had a huge oak tree and sat with our backs to it and listened to him go. I let him gobble 10-12 times before I made the first peep. I tree yelped quietly, and he immediately hammered back. I let him carry on for another 5 minutes before offering another series of soft yelps. He double gobbled and I told my son I was done calling, he knew where we were, and there were no hens with him as we had heard not one another yelp in the immediate area. Another gobbler fired up at the bottom of the mountain (one that hadn't gobbled when he flew up to roost the previous night), and this turkey gobbled every time "ours" on top of the mountain did. Then the third gobbler- the other we had heard the night before - and some jakes fired up. The ridge top bird carried on for thirty minutes. He gobbled at the other gobblers, he gobbled at crows, he gobbled at a train. Heck, the fool thing even gobbled at a cow mooing down in the pastures at the bottom of the mountain. I told my son, "That is a dead turkey. We are in a perfect position to see the only flat place on the mountain, he has no hens, and he knows we are here." At 6:50, I happened to be looking in the direction of his gobbles and saw him pitch out of the tree - and sail all the way back to the bottom of the mountain, exactly where we came in from in the dark. I made up a few words and my son and I looked at each other like what just happened here?
? We sat there for a few minutes and my son asked "What are we going to do now?" I told him we were going to sit tight and see what sounded off before we did anything, as I was NOT going back to the bottom of that place and have that silly turkey start back up to the top as the day warmed up. As we sat and waited, the gobbler that had gobbled earlier at the base of the mountain started again and this time he had company as a second bird gobbled with him in the same place. Mister ridge top had hooked up with those turkeys at the bottom. We quietly eased off the side, into the holler, and back up the steep side towards the birds to prevent them from hearing or seeing us. We were out of breath by the time we got near the top, but sat down just about the time they decided to gobble again 50 yards off the crest of the knob we had just climbed. We got to two trees just under the lip of the ridge to allow us to shoot as soon as the turkey came over to look down into where we were set up. I couldn't use my diaphragm call I was so out of breath, and had to sit a minute to catch my wind. I finally felt that I could make some sounds that might sound somewhat like a turkey, and yelped a few times at them. I immediately heard one spit and drum, and saw the fan coming over the top. As the rest of the turkey appeared, and I new I had a safe backstop behind that bird, I ended his hen chasing days. Now its Junior's time to get another. I am sure I'll kill it too, but he'll do the shooting....
