Your going to take a fall big boy
This story begins in a year when it seemed that our gobblers had lock jaw and finding a gobbling bird was difficult. It had been an early spring and I believe most of the hens were done going to gobblers. Gobblers were flocking back up and a few old birds traveled and gobbled daily with a few non-nesting hens. My buddy and I had made it deeper into season then we had gone in years. Our state was still a two tag state then and we each had filled one early in season. We hunted all our best spots and filling that last tag was just plain tough. Finally one day I came back to my truck to hear a bird ripping it up in the valley below. It was near quitting time, but I gave him a go. This old boy gobbled like a drunken sailor bragging about his prowess. However; all my seductive hen talk would not budge him. So I left and that afternoon my buddy and I drew up a flawless plan to shut this loud mouth up. The next morning found us parked on his turf before daylight. At just the right time I gave a very soft wakeup whine and GOOOOOBBBBLLLLEEE came the resounding trumpet of the king. We had him pegged! Some very cautious tree talk and he went crazy. He gobbled for an hour solid and hundreds of times. Several times I could have sworn he was on the ground, but alas he was not. Then I heard it, that soft sweet sound of a hen softly yelping and an occasional cluck. Next I see this dark shape and then two sneaking up the hill, yelp yelp; dammit hens going to him. Then I see the old turd pitch down to them and away they went for a private orgy. He still gobbled incessantly, but always moving. They worked along a bench and disappeared. The next day we were back and on the bench they all traveled on and bingo the story line unfolded exactly the same. Day after day we played the game and when we ran our gambit he played a counter move. I finally filled my tag on a stupid two year old and my buddy filled his tag on his own farm.
The following spring I scouted that valley again and sure enough there was old loud mouth. This year he had two buddies as running partners. We set the chess board and played a game of champions over and over as we dueled. My buddy and I figured we had heard this loud mouth bird gobble no less then 1,000 times. I filled my first tag on a bird back at my place and then started hunting my cousin's farm where this old boy resided. He was getting on my nerves and I was ready to push the limits of my moral convictions. I tried getting super close, I tried being silent, I tried gobbling and none of it worked. One morning a heard a shot from the neighbors and another buddy texted me he had tagged out but there were two more birds gobbling on the end of my ridge. So away I go and to no avail I couldn't strike one of those birds. It was a mile walk back to my truck and old loud mouth. As I approached the valley where he played his games I gave a series of yelps and a booming gobble came right back in my face. The next few minutes the air was filled with gobbles and they were moving my way. Could it be that finally I had made a play and checkmate was imminent. Then I heard it, PPPFFFFFT SPIT. Coming down the woods road I could see a blue head centered in a black background. Today you die old nemesis. Surely this was old loud mouth. Fifty yard, forty yards, thirty yards and I wasn't waiting any longer. Off went my safety and I tucked down on my gun and he raised his head as he caught the slight movement. Boom, flopping and a fist pump of victory....I had finally won. Then it happened, Gobble, gobble, gobble, gobble and another big old bird comes around the bench. That dirty bastard had sent in his buddy as gun fodder and was now laughing at me. I swore vengeance in the most profound form possible. I would have my day. I went back with my buddy the following few days and we dueled some more until finally our season ended when he tagged another bird elsewhere.
Played and made a fool yet another season and I swore he would pay. Five months later and some time to brood over my embarrassment found me gearing up for fall season. I do my best to hunt gobblers only in the fall, but I occasionally take a young bird. This year I was committed to a fall longbeard and I knew which one I would like a crack at. I visited the valley of the king several times, but never made contact. I know fall longbeards often are very transient and are here one day and somewhere else tomorrow, unless they are on a big food source. I hunted all the old gobbler haunts and checked back in regularly to see if fortune would come up a winning roll for me. On one particular rainy morning I had some chores at home and didn't go out early. About 10:00 AM the rain stopped and I told the boss I was going up to the farm and see if I could find any turkeys out. As I pulled up to the barn where I park I caught a glimpse of some dark shapes in the field, Gobblers!. I backed up and got geared up and hurriedly made my way to flank the flock. As I snuck up to the edge I could see them well and I settled in and produced the best run of gobbler yelps I could muster. There was no response and I waited, unsure of my next move. I decided to move up and look again. OH crap, they were right on top of me. I looked and there was a monster right in front of me. I had pulled down on another bird but I instantly shifted to this old monarch. Of course I was busted and he started to boogy, but my bead had already caught up before he could get it in gear and he rolled up in a pile at the sound of my 12ga. Could it be, might I have finally seen the "fall" of the king. As I picked him up daggers revealed themselves and "oh my what a beard". At the truck I weighed and measured everything. He had 1 1/2" spurs and 13 1/4" beard. I actually don't remember the exact weight without looking it up, but I think it was around 20 lbs. Fall gobblers typically aren't as heavy as spring birds.
So now I waited until spring for conformation. Come spring there was no more incessant gobbling from the valley and I was confident I had settled the score I swore to settle. In a way it was a sad moment, but I got over it.
