Due to the forecasted wind/weather I opted out on returning to my born and raised home state of Mississippi. This year has been different. Normally I go through a week to week process of running all my pot calls and strikers. It's a meticulous process looking for that "sweet" sound that I desire to sound like. I normally end up with a different combination each year. Last year was the first year I ended up with the same two from the year prior. This year, I just grabbed my vest and went with it. Not sure if I'm just getting old or distractions of every day life or what it is.
Eagerly watching the forecast, it looked like Tuesday and Friday were the best days. Monday, I worked a full day and burned the road up heading south. I finally laid my head down around 12:30am. 4am came quite early and it was in the low 20's, not the normal Mississippi weather I'm used to. I pulled up to the gate I wanted to be at just shy of 4:30 and to my surprise no one was parked there. As some or most of you, Mississippi had an ice storm in late January. I knew that but did NOT factor in the pine damage.
The woods were wrecked and what should've took around a half hour walk, took well over an hour. The woods were wrecked. It was a cool calm morning and I expected them to blow it out. In normal Mississippi early season fashion, it was bad slow. I heard a total of 5 gobbles between 2 birds and both were on private. One was only about 200-250yds away so I had hope. He never sounded off after he pitched down and never got fired up. I saw with him until 10am before easing on. Everywhere I scouted had a little sign but all of it looked 1-2 weeks old.
That evening I had a different spot in mind. It's 2 hardwood ridges that join and form a U around a deep drain that they love to roost over and it's joined by pines and a deep hardwood drain leading to the ridge that the birds love to spend midday in. I slipped in the bottom of the "U"around 1:45 and found a double tree with a decent shadow I could remain in. I cut some fresh budded limbs and struck around me and just got cozy. I quickly regretting not bringing my inner tube seat. I had to reposition several times alternating hips and I hate having to move like that while hunting. I'd occasionally scratch in the leaves and soft call ever 25 or so minutes. At 5:23 I had a bird fire off 3-400 yards to my southwest. He commenced to gobbling 5-6 more times before 6pm. I tried calling to him with no response, doubt I ever got loud enough though. At one point I was tempted to get up and go in pursuit but I knew better with how open the terrain is where he was at. An hour or so later I'm fixated on the ridge to my west and watch a bird walk into plain view. Seeing his dark colors and large posture, I knew it had to be a gobbler. He's standing around 100 yards away and eases over the lip headed north. A few seconds later a second bird appears and stands in almost the same exact location. Oddly though I hear running in the leaves and then that bird starts putting and runs over the lip headed north as well. At this point I'm questioning my sanity, I told myself there's no way he saw me, I wasn't moving at all. In that instant a coyote appeared and was coming in hot headed straight at me. I eased my gun up and as I swung to try to get on him at 25 yards he spun around quickly and darted out away from me. I decided to not try a pop shot as there were a lot of limbs in the way the way he was headed. He ran out to 100 and preceded to bark at me and then howled. As his howl echoed, so did a gobble to my north. He barked twice more and dashed hard north headed the direction the turkeys went. Immediately I heard running again in the leaves, but this time it was headed up the drain dead at me, getting louder by the second. I spun around, got my gun to my knee and told myself, I'm killing that coyote this time. A mere few seconds later, out appeared a trotting gobbler at 35 with a beard swinging, I turned more to the right to get on him and Ofcourse he sees the movement and dashes to my right. I swing into the shot and roll him! But in the same instance, he gets his feet back under him and precedes the way he was running. I jump up and there's no shot and I lose visible sight with all the blow downs. He goes silent. I don't hear flopping I don't hear running, just dead silence. I ease the way I thought he was and quickly got off the path and turned around. I wasn't seeing feathers, no signs of a hit. I was in distraught and at this point beating myself up mentally for taking the shot. Had I left him alone, he was going to roost in the vicinity. Night fall was approaching fast. I ended up resetting myself 3 times before I finally found the shot sight, but there laid a feather.
I was sick to my stomach over wounding the bird but knew there was a good chance he'd be down with the silence and me not hearing him leave ear shot.
It took some time but I eventually found blood and several more feathers, ultimately finding him laid under a tree top. He only made it about 65 yards from the shot.
It wasn't pretty and didn't come easy. It took me from the lows to the highs, but I'm thankful for the chance to enjoy the pursuit. Hopefully the next one is a little more of a text book hunt. Good luck gentlemen.
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