After a torrential down pour and storms the afternoon before I was in somewhat high hopes to at least hear a bird the following morning being it was absolutely beautiful outside a long with the 3 C's; Clear, Calm and Cool. I left work and got to the woods just as the darkness was starting to turn gray. I slushed my way down the old logging road trying to beat the breaking of dawn hoping to hear a bird from the high point on the property I was on, from here had a couple different directions I could go if I heard a bird. As I'm nearing my point I stop in my track and i swear i can hear drumming, but there are some vehicles with base on some other road noise so I chalk it up to that. I go another 50yds and stop again with the same sound... I scan the trees but i cant make anything out. So I take back off about 25yds more and I hear him gobble and he's on the other side of a clear cut. I take off running to my point to try to get a better idea on where roosted. He gobbles a few more times and I hoot a few times to narrow it down to a couple different trees. He's in a great spot for him but a bad spot for me to get to with the layout of the land. I'm thinking this is a bird I played and lost a many a game of chess with last year and I decide my best option is to back out and make a loop and get on the other side of the cutover from him in hopes that he will pitch into the cutover. I make my move and as I'm easing down a drain on the edge of a ride I notice a black object in tree across the cutover, Its him strutting on a limb drumming and facing away from me at about a 45deg angle. I stopped by a small tree that was surrounded by cane. I ranged the top of the cutover ridge in front of me at 35yds and the end of the ridge where it plays out into the cutover at 55yds. There was a big oak at the end of the small finger ridge that i was on that i really wanted to get to but knew there was no way to make any farther without getting seen. My plan was to stand and watch him till he pitches off the limb and when he goes below the crest of the ridge i would bolt to the other tree that way he couldn't circle below me out of range.
I clucked and gave him a couple tree yelps and he turns on the limb and is now gobbling and strutting towards me. At this point I was in high hopes he would pitch into the cutover and I would have a chance. He gobbles a few more times and I make one last call and he cuts me off so I shut up. He gobbles a couple more times then pitches off the limb straight at me. Oh CRAP!! it just got real, real quick; as I'm standing against this tree with my binos in my hand and a gun slung on my shoulder. As soon as he pitched I started down and when he went under the crest of the ridge I dropped to the ground. As I raised my gun my range finder cord was wrapped around the stock and I freaked out a little but was able to untangle it and get my gun to my knee and shoulder. That's when I first see his head and he's coming straight on and angling up the ridge to my left. I start to purr a little and he looks and comes closer then hits a small clump of thick stuff I soft cluck and purr again and he blows up in strut then gobbles. I take my time and hold steady and purr one more time and he clears all the brush and I take my shot. I couldn't believe it, the Lord really Blessed me with an amazing hunt. It was 78 seconds from the time his feet left he limb to the gunshot.
Funny thing is I locked up after the shot and caught a cramp in my side which felt like a broken rib. But as he's flopping rolling down the ridge it appears his tail fan has a step in it. I was in disbelief as I know it was a full fan on the bird I shot but where could this Jake have come from, I was sick. I ran/hobbled over to him
and grabbed his head to keep him from muddying himself up anymore and saw a beard hanging and was like well he's got a long enough beard, guess he must be an early hatch from last year. Then he lifted his legs and I said nope he's a good one. What a crazy roller coaster of thoughts.
I'm so thankful for the hunt, the experience and the harvest but it takes a little part of my soul when I pull the trigger. The chess match is now over. It prob sounds crazy to most people, but for those that get it, they know. It drives me nuts and will even change who I am and how I act when a bird whips me throughout the season but when the game is over I'm hit with such joy and sadness at the same time. If they didn't taste so dang good, I'd just take pics of them. Crazy I know
Took me longer to type this out then the entire hunt. LOL
20.20lbs
8 1/8" beard
1 3/16" spurs
