My first bird - story and pic

[T-town]

                                       
Dateline: Union Springs, Ala. 1984

First hunt, first bird. Well, technically not my first turkey hunt. Dad took me along a time or two when I was a pre-teen to a WMA. We never heard a bird. We sat up and called but as far as I know a bird never heard us either. Fast forward about 14 or so years. I'm working at UPS while finishing up my schooling. I get to talking about turkeys with a co-worker. Neither of us know anything about it really, though by this time in our lives we've both killed several deer. Our knowledge of turkeys is limited to what we've seen from deerstands and read in Outdoor Life. We decide to try a hunt. We arrange a day and time. I get together my turkey hunting equipment – the same old Lynch's box call Dad had used, my 2 ¾ inch modified choke, 28" Remington 870 Wingmaster and some highbrass #6 squirrel shot. I found some grease paint in the bowhunting supplies. The chosen day was a beautiful April morning. This was in '80's, back when the time change didn't occur until late April. We made the 65 mile drive from home to the hunting lease. At 4:15 I pulled up the gate and got out to unlock it. It was foggy, but already light, and I could hear a bird gobbling down in the creek bottom we were heading toward. We hustled in to park, load up and head out. We crossed a field to the wood line on the ridge over the creek where the bird was gobbling. Oh what a beautiful sound! We set up and I proceeded to make what I considered a decent set of yelps with the old Lynch box. He gobbled at me! And at every other hen, crow, blue jay, car horn and sound that floated through the glorious Alabama morning. They – hens and gobbler – flew down in the bottom and he gobbled like crazy, but they began driftng away. Then came the sound I've learned to dread. The barking of loose running dogs chasing a deer through the creek bottom broke up the party in the hardwoods. After the dogs were gone, the gobbler eventually cranked up again, this time much farther off and moving away. Even as novices we knew it was time to get up and go! So we got in the truck and drove around to the camphouse. We parked and circled to where I thought the gobbler was heading. I was right, as we found out when went too far and busted the group. So we took off the other direction, walking and calling, listening for another bird. Now they call it running and gunning. Well, we might have been gunning but we were firing blanks. Nothing gobbled anywhere. After several hours I suggested that try the roost gobbler one more time before we headed back for our evening shift. As we approached the field he had flown toward when we busted them, I decided to climb into a permanent stand and see if I could look into the next field and sight the birds. Bingo! Good move! There he was in full strut, with 8 hens.I didn't know at the time that that was not necessarily good news. We crept up, set up and cranked up the box. He'd stretch his head out and gobble occasionally, but mostly stayed in strut. After 40 minutes of this I decided to push the envelope. We quickly created some hand signals, then my buddy climbed up in the stand, and yep, I got down on my belly. The field was relatively flat, but did have a slight crown in the middle. We had a three wheeler trail on that field crest running through knee high weeds and grass. I belly crawled for a hundred yards or so and looked back. He waved me on. I crawled further and looked back – he was frantically motioning me to lay down. As I did, a hen walked by within a few feet of my head, purring contentedly and pecking away at seeds and bugs. After she moved on I looked back and my partner motioned me on ahead. A bit further and I look back. Now he's motioning me to rise up and shoot. I gather my knees under me, get my gun cradled and start rising up out of the weeds like a gator out of the river. The old gobbler, not 15 yards away, is in full strut, but as he sees me he deflates with that "what the" look on his face. One shot and he doesn't even flop. What an awesome hunt! I was sore for two weeks, but I was hooked for life!

Vital Stats: Double beard, 91/4" & 5"; ¾" spurs; 18.5 lbs. I hate that I didn't take better pics!




Hope you enjoyed this. Now share your story!

[turkey slayer]

Great story!

[new2turkey]

Good read T-town...


Hopefully I'll be telling a similiar story after spring.

[guesswho]

Great pic's.  Love the Camo!

[StruttinGobbler3]

I remember well my first bird eleven years ago. I live on a roughly 1000 acre farm, and one spring morning heard a whole crew of gobblers firing off in the bottoms beside one of my fields. Turkey hunting was one of those things I'd always meant to try, but never got around to it. Well, I decided that day I'd give it a shot. Started off with some old military BDU camo, a mesh headnet, a camo backpack, an old Remington 870 with some Winchester Supreme #5s, and a Lynch World Champion box call. After a couple unsuccessful morning hunts, I decided to hunt a small food plot one afternoon. I started yelping and lo and behold, a hen starting yelping back. I continued yelping and cutting at her, and to my amusement she matched me yelp for yelp and cut for cut. Being a newby at the time, I didn't realize what I was actually doing was severely pissing this hen off. I just figured a real hen calling back to me might help attract a tom . Well, this hen starts coming closer and closer up the field road behind me, and after another yelp from my box call, there was a thunderous gobble not thirty yards away. Due to the thick brush behind me, I couldn't see the road where he was. Praying he was in range, I stood up and quickly threw my gun to my shoulder. He was in full strut in the middle of the road twenty yards away, with his hen ahead of him looking for a fight. Upon seeing me, he took off running. One quick shot later and he piled up flopping. As of that moment, the turkey hunting bug bit me hard and I've had the spring fever ever since. And I hope I never find a cure  

[Basser69]

Good read T-town...


Hopefully I'll be telling a similiar story after spring.

X 2. Thanks for sharing

[old frank]

Thanks for the pictures and the story. I love that "old school" camo.

Isn't it amazing how we can remember those things like they happened yesterday.

[FttFttVroom!]

Great story! Got a pic of my dad turkey hunting when I was a toddler and he's got the same camo coveralls!

[Rio Fan]

Great story and pictures!

[Crutch]

Long post.

My first bird slicked me but I had him coming in. The second one rushed my decoys while I was taking a nature relief and walked away when my decoy wouldn't turn around and put up a fight. So that weekend my buddy said he would show me how to kill a turkey.  LOL, bless his heart, i'll omit his record but we were both as green as they come. We started out on a fence row we call "the man tree". In no time I have one answering me. This went on for 15 minutes then silence. Eventually saw another hunter. Yellowacorns suggested he run and gun.  Half mile away, we are driving to his honey hole and 250 yards away he spots a tom chasing hens around the bottom of a field on a neighboring property.  After a little deliberation (pandomonium) we sneak down the field and crawl toward the fence and set up a couple deks. Then we crawl back to a couple trees and set up.  He set up quick, but I had to make something from nothing. I dragged a tree lime over to a log and standing tree then shucked my camo shirt and hung it over a limb. I laid down behind the log and peaked out between the tree and my shirt. I pushed a stick into the ground then propped my shotgun on the log and the stick in front of it. The excitement was building and the fear and dread of blowing it. Bruce looked over at me and shook his head. We both let go with a series of yelp, hoping a bird 150 yards away now could hear. Wow, gobble was the answer. I looked over at my buddy and he shook his head with confidence. I waited the prescribed 10 seconds, lol and let go again. Wam, he hollered back at me and something came over me I can't explain. I started giggling. I waited at least 8 seconds the next time and hit him again. He's getting louder by the second(s). I giggled like a little boy, trying to keep quiet on the back row at chruch. Bruce can now see the ole tom on the other side of the fence trying to look thru the buck brush and barbed wire fence. He can also hear me trying to keep quiet, working that call like a I'm Charle Daniels at a fiddle contest. His eyes are big as saucers cause he can't tell me to shut up and be quiet. Well, I can't see anything and you know a tom won't come thru thick cover and thru a fence, so I'm thinking there is no way we are going to get him on the business side of the fence. There is only one thing left to do. Sound like the hottest hen in the county. I knew he was getting close but had no idea he was right there. The quick blind set up was just that. I was blind and could only see the deks. There I go again but this time I knew he was at the fence when he let go a thunde gobble. This time I didn't verbalize the giggle but you could hear the air exiting my nostrils. Well the tom gets a good peek thru the fence and sees two strutting tom decoys and two hens and one of them is on the ground in front of one of the toms. I couldn't see but Bruce said you could'nt see his demeanor change. He was fired up and ready for a fight and found a path thru the brush and barbed wire fence and as soon as he got thru he blew up into a full blown display of his man hood. They say ignorance is bliss, and I must have been in the clouds somewhere. Since I couldn't see to my right, I assumed  he was hung up. Actually he was only 35 yards to my right. Bruce wanted to throw a rock at me about that time cause here I go again. Yelp! Yelp! Yelp!  He deflates long enough to gobble back then goes right back into strut. By now I can tell he is probalby close enought to shoot if he moves in front of me but I keep my trusty slate handy just in case. Bruce is trying to figure out to get his gun up and kill this bird before I screw it up but can't move. He had not planned on shooting but figured somebody was going to have to do something quick. Then to my amazement there he is 20 yards in front of me move from my right to my left marching in full strut towards the decoys. Then he turns and looks me in the eyes, big black eyes, stare a hole straight thru me. I panicked. I drop my slate and striker. He's still looking directly at me but dancing sideways towards to decoys. My heart is ears are now throbbing from the blood rushing to my head and probably from the profanity Bruce is hurling at me under his breath. He almost has his hands on his gun when the tom passes behind a lone tree 10 feet in front of me and I grab the 12 guage and aim. When he come out from behind the tree I let him have it and he slams to the ground and starts flopping. I waited with the muzzle pointed in his direction for what seems like 2 long grueling seconds and started to jump up but Bruce waved me back down and I hit the ground. He calls again because in all the excitement, I forgot about the other tom we had heard back behind us. Well, nothing materialized and he finally let me get up. My hands were shaking so bad I could hardly get a text message sent to my wife.  I'll never forget that first bird and the many lessions I learned in that one hunt. The pic from my avitar is that bird.

[yellowacorns]

LoL  ole crutch sounded like a squealing hen running to that old tom!  What a hunt it was!
There is nothing like being with someone as they instantly become a Turkey ADDICT!  And believe me that man is hooked!!!!

[Basser69]

Great read Crutch!

[CASH]

Great read bro.   

[huntinhard]

ah, good ole Union Springs

[nctrkyhntr]

great story