“Strange but True” Turkey Stories

[Dougas]

I was about an hour late to the party one morning. I hear one gobbling way up on the upper end of the meadow about 300 yards away. I use the trees to get 200 yards away. He was gobbling about every 5 minutes. I finally figure out that he is still in the tree. So, every time he gobbled, I would cut his gobble off with one of my own, to which he would cut me off. Then I would wait for him to gobble and we would do it all again. Sunrise was about 5:30. It was now about 8:00 and he was still in the tree. So, I snuck in to about 150 yards where I ran out of cover. I set up with a dip in the terrain so if he went down into the dip, he would appear to me at  less than 15 yards. This gobble back and forth went on until about 10:00. I decided to change tactics and began hen calling and after he gobbled at the calling a few times, down he flew. When his head appeared above the dip, he gobbled and I shot him at about 9 yards.

[Bottomland OG]

Back in 2001 there was a pair of gobblers on a piece of private that I have hunted since I was just a pup. I had formed a flinch, which is a bad habit to get. I called them both up first trip in. Stand dead still 25yds I shoot a tree 2ft to the left. I was sick so I give them a few day rest hunting other spots I go back call them up again 30yds and roll one of them up. I start to him crawling through a barbwire fence, look up and he's running off dragging his right wing. I shot twice more out of desperation with really no chance of hitting him but did it anyways. Besides shooting at that bird 2 different hunts I had also shot at 5 other birds in a week and a half and only had killed 2. I was ticked at the gun so I gave it away the day the bird ran off with the broken wing. I pulled out another one that I had a ton of confidence in so Two weeks later I went back to the piece of private to see if the wounded turkey's buddy was still there. I made it about a quarter the way in and he gobbled probably 300yds, I sat down and made a couple calls and this rascal started to me and seemed like he was gobbling every other step and fast too. Right before he got in sight 2 turkeys gobbled. 30 seconds later I see a bird coming full strut and his right wing is broken turned inside out. He gets 20yds and I kill him. No way he could fly so he was sleeping on the ground for 2 weeks. He might have been able to get in a bush maybe. The only way to look at it was the good Lord wanted me to kill that turkey.

[Treerooster]

Good stuff guys, the banded birds I wonder why one was below the spur? only saw a few in pics and they have all been over the spur!

I think the band is actually supposed to be between the foot and the spur. The two I got here were banded as jakes (that's how they knew the definite age). I imagine with the rough and tumble lives turkeys live that the band could slip up above, or down below (if I am wrong about the placement) a spur nub.

[Greg Massey]

Back several years ago I had been chasing and hunting hard, and was having no luck in killing my gobbler. I was becoming really frustrated with myself and the gobblers on the farm. It seems like no matter what I did or what tactic I used I wasn't getting it done, I was hunting from way before daylight until 2 / 3 clock in the afternoon and now I was into day 5 of the opening of spring season and I still hadn't killed my gobbler. So on the 6th day I again was back at it hunting and trying to kill one of these gobblers I had been hearing from day one, but again I had been whipped and was headed back to the tractor shed and hunting cabin and as I rounded the hill I could see this gobbler down behind the tractor shed and back of the cabin in full strut, so I parked the jeep I jumped out and ran down along the small hill in from of the tractor shed until I came into the middle of the shed and as I ease up into the shed because one end of the tractor shed is open on the end next to the hunting cabin and I stepped out as he turned and had his fan to the back of me and as he turned I shot him at 15 yards. To this day he's one of the biggest gobblers I have ever killed and I have him mounted in full strut in our hunting cabin... Everyone calls him the back door Cabin Gobbler... LOL.. He was also one of the most expensive gobblers I've ever killed because back then it was just over 600 dollars to have one mounted. I have no idea what it would cost now to have one mounted in full strut.

[Tom007]

Great stories,  keep them coming...

[Dougas]

They cost around $1000.00 or more now.

[Greg Massey]

They cost around $1000.00 or more now.

I guess I have mounted my one and only ... OMG

[arkrem870]

I hunted two different turkeys a 1000 miles apart this year that would quiet gobble. Almost like a whisper. I've seen it before but this was back to back whisper gobblers.

[PalmettoRon]

My buddy and I were hunting in the Apache-Sitgreaves NF in Arizona years ago and came upon a fairly large Pee Wee Herman doll nailed in crucifix fashion to a Ponderosa pine.

We both decided it was probably best to relocate to a different spot.

[Happy]

I actually killed one once. It's amazing and true. The poor fellow thought I was zagging when I was actually zigging. Was probably pretty embarrassing for the gobbler.

Sent from my SM-S901U using Tapatalk

[Tail Feathers]

I once called up a cow elk while turkey hunting in E. TN. I had a bobcat staring me down from about 35 yards when a big old black bear came ambling by, scaring the bobcat off.  That was pretty cool for me, but I decided I better move.  The next set up was when I hear the "mew mew" of a cow elk in response to my calling.  I turned around and she walked up to within 20 yards of me before leaving.  My buddy hunted that same area and called up a raghorn spike elk.  I guess they are curious, or our turkey calling was waaayyy off. 

[Dougas]

I once called in a black tailed deer doe with my bicycle. It had squeaky brakes and I had ridden in about 8 miles and not seeing any turkeys, I was on my way back, going down a long hill and using my brakes almost continuously. That doe kept running out of the woods and standing there as I would ride by and then again over and over for at least 100 yards. I guess I sounded like fawn in distress.

[Dougas]

I usually hunt by myself. One particular day I decided to bring a buddy along, knowing that he can be trusted to keep his mouth shut about where we were going to. I always hunt this meadow from one side and I wanted to see what would happen if I did my normal hunt and my buddy went in from the opposite side of the meadow. We would meet up back at the truck later in the day.
There was nothing going on in the meadow, so I started back to the truck. About half way back, about a quarter of a mile from the truck, I decided to step out into the meadow. As I turned to walk back into the timber, I see an orange knit cap waving at me from the other side of the meadow. I took my orange knit cap from my pack and signaled back to my buddy and stepped back into the timber and he did the same expecting to meet up at the truck.
I walked about 30 yards and step up onto some large rocks, then jump down to the ground. When I hit the ground it gave way and I was instantly up to my chest in a hole not much bigger than me around and since we were hunting with bows that day, I was frantically trying to keep from going down by digging my bow into the ground as my feet dangled in the air beneath me in this hole. It crumbled at the top dropping me about 10 or more feet down pretty much wedging me at about mid thigh down. I was stuck with my arms above me and holding onto my bow by the limb with the tip a little above ground level. I could hardly move and began yelling for help.
My buddy, in the mean time, having no clue what had happened, went back to the truck, ate his lunch and kicked back awaiting my return. He fell asleep and woke up about an hour later. He began looking for me, yelling my name. After about an hour or more, he returned to the last place he had seen me and when he yelled for me I could barely hear him and began yelling back, but he never heard me, even that close. He walked off yelling my name. About 15 minutes later he returned, but from a different direction. He notice a disruption near the large rocks and as he investigated it thinking a bear may have dug some critter up, he saw the tip of my bow sticking up out of the hole. I could see him looking down at me but he was just a silhouette. He couldn't see me, just the bow limb with the tip sticking out. I yelled out and he about jumped out of his skin. He pulled me out by the bow. the hole wasn't big enough for me to move, so he had to pull me out and after close to 3 hours stuck in that hole, I could barely hang on. If I had gone alone and jumped off that rock, no one would have known to look there and I or should I say my bones would still be there today. I shudder with my heart beating out of my chest and get a lump in my throat when ever I think about it and as I write this now.

A very strange day.

[deerhunt1988]

I usually hunt by myself. One particular day I decided to bring a buddy along, knowing that he can be trusted to keep his mouth shut about where we were going to. I always hunt this meadow from one side and I wanted to see what would happen if I did my normal hunt and my buddy went in from the opposite side of the meadow. We would meet up back at the truck later in the day.
There was nothing going on in the meadow, so I started back to the truck. About half way back, about a quarter of a mile from the truck, I decided to step out into the meadow. As I turned to walk back into the timber, I see an orange knit cap waving at me from the other side of the meadow. I took my orange knit cap from my pack and signaled back to my buddy and stepped back into the timber and he did the same expecting to meet up at the truck.
I walked about 30 yards and step up onto some large rocks, then jump down to the ground. When I hit the ground it gave way and I was instantly up to my chest in a hole not much bigger than me around and since we were hunting with bows that day, I was frantically trying to keep from going down by digging my bow into the ground as my feet dangled in the air beneath me in this hole. It crumbled at the top dropping me about 10 or more feet down pretty much wedging me at about mid thigh down. I was stuck with my arms above me and holding onto my bow by the limb with the tip a little above ground level. I could hardly move and began yelling for help.
My buddy, in the mean time, having no clue what had happened, went back to the truck, ate his lunch and kicked back awaiting my return. He fell asleep and woke up about an hour later. He began looking for me, yelling my name. After about an hour or more, he returned to the last place he had seen me and when he yelled for me I could barely hear him and began yelling back, but he never heard me, even that close. He walked off yelling my name. About 15 minutes later he returned, but from a different direction. He notice a disruption near the large rocks and as he investigated it thinking a bear may have dug some critter up, he saw the tip of my bow sticking up out of the hole. I could see him looking down at me but he was just a silhouette. He couldn't see me, just the bow limb with the tip sticking out. I yelled out and he about jumped out of his skin. He pulled me out by the bow. the hole wasn't big enough for me to move, so he had to pull me out and after close to 3 hours stuck in that hole, I could barely hang on. If I had gone alone and jumped off that rock, no one would have known to look there and I or should I say my bones would still be there today. I shudder with my heart beating out of my chest and get a lump in my throat when ever I think about it and as I write this now.

A very strange day.

Man, that is terrifying! What part of the country? Just a sinkhole of some type? About how deep do you think it was?

I've stumbled across a few old uncovered wells in the woods and it could be REALLY bad if someone walked into them.

[Dougas]

I usually hunt by myself. One particular day I decided to bring a buddy along, knowing that he can be trusted to keep his mouth shut about where we were going to. I always hunt this meadow from one side and I wanted to see what would happen if I did my normal hunt and my buddy went in from the opposite side of the meadow. We would meet up back at the truck later in the day.
There was nothing going on in the meadow, so I started back to the truck. About half way back, about a quarter of a mile from the truck, I decided to step out into the meadow. As I turned to walk back into the timber, I see an orange knit cap waving at me from the other side of the meadow. I took my orange knit cap from my pack and signaled back to my buddy and stepped back into the timber and he did the same expecting to meet up at the truck.
I walked about 30 yards and step up onto some large rocks, then jump down to the ground. When I hit the ground it gave way and I was instantly up to my chest in a hole not much bigger than me around and since we were hunting with bows that day, I was frantically trying to keep from going down by digging my bow into the ground as my feet dangled in the air beneath me in this hole. It crumbled at the top dropping me about 10 or more feet down pretty much wedging me at about mid thigh down. I was stuck with my arms above me and holding onto my bow by the limb with the tip a little above ground level. I could hardly move and began yelling for help.
My buddy, in the mean time, having no clue what had happened, went back to the truck, ate his lunch and kicked back awaiting my return. He fell asleep and woke up about an hour later. He began looking for me, yelling my name. After about an hour or more, he returned to the last place he had seen me and when he yelled for me I could barely hear him and began yelling back, but he never heard me, even that close. He walked off yelling my name. About 15 minutes later he returned, but from a different direction. He notice a disruption near the large rocks and as he investigated it thinking a bear may have dug some critter up, he saw the tip of my bow sticking up out of the hole. I could see him looking down at me but he was just a silhouette. He couldn't see me, just the bow limb with the tip sticking out. I yelled out and he about jumped out of his skin. He pulled me out by the bow. the hole wasn't big enough for me to move, so he had to pull me out and after close to 3 hours stuck in that hole, I could barely hang on. If I had gone alone and jumped off that rock, no one would have known to look there and I or should I say my bones would still be there today. I shudder with my heart beating out of my chest and get a lump in my throat when ever I think about it and as I write this now.

A very strange day.

Man, that is terrifying! What part of the country? Just a sinkhole of some type? About how deep do you think it was?

I've stumbled across a few old uncovered wells in the woods and it could be REALLY bad if someone walked into them.

It was in the woods between Falls City Oregon and the ocean. It is temperate rainforest. I do believe it was the forming of a sinkhole and my weight coming down on the rocky top broke it open. It was between 9 and 11 feet deep. The diameter at the top was around 30 inches or so and at the bottom about 14 inches. enough to loosely wedge my legs between the rock sides that tapered down to a point sort of. It scares me more thinking about than it did when it happened knowing how my family would have felt if things turned out differently.