This story started Friday when I whiffed on the monster bird. My moral was low, and the guilt/anguish of possibly wounding an animal and not recovering it ate at me all day. I had turkey on the mind all day at work and had trouble focusing. I kept wanting to order a scope, and kept doubting my abilities with a shotgun.
Last night my turkey hunting mentor and very close friend Wade had sent me a text to go hunting in the am. He is a much better caller, and had a bird located but I NEEDED to do this by myself. I had to get the redemption I needed for whiffing on the big bird. I told him that I needed to get one on my own.
Fast forward to my cell phone alarm gobbling at 4:15 this morning. I get up, very tired and soar from my last minute workout for my companies weight loss program. Down 32 pounds and feeling great, ready to climb the mountains....Not really, I had shin splints un believably bad, and sore ribs from yestdays wiff and off the ribs follow up shots.
"Lets do this Mike" I say to myself. Get my gear and walk up the mountain where I think the bird will be roosted. I do not make a peep. Not one gooble not one hen nothing. I decide to get up to move towards the field that I had heard other birds yesterday morning gobbling to the sounds of the gobblers I was after.
Just as I stand up "Whhooos Whhhosssshhhh Whoooosh" The other gobbler I was after on friday was about 10 yards roosted "BUSTED!!"
Great, I think to myself but decide to walk the top of the ridge towards the field calling and hoping for an answer. Nothing!
I get out to the field about 6:30 and walk to the bottom edge near the hillside thicket. I call and hear nothing. Move up about a 100 yards and I thought I heard a very short gobble. I park it and decide to yelp with a little volume. I got another short response.
I decided to make a huge elbow to close the distance on this bird, whom I thought was a jake. I get out to the bend in the elbow and call. One gobble about 200 yards out, and that's all. Hmmm I think as I wonder if this bird is henned up or possibly a subordinate who is afraid to come in. I get up and find a tram road and move up about 100 yards, perpendicular to the "jake".
I walked up the tram and when it made a bend I could see two large pines. I thought to myself that this just looked like one of those spots. One of those spots you feel when still hunting whitetail where you know you will end up filling a tag.
I decided to do a sequence of loud yelps followed by a double gobble. I proceeded with this and was immediately answered about 100 yards out, which was surprising to me because I still expected the bird to be far off. I sat down with a huge pine right in front of me. I continued to cut loudly and was greeted with another loud gobble but was a lot closer. I could tell he was working his way towards me so I then shut up. I feared he hung up at the top of the sloping ridge so I called again but just a bit softer. He answered but only on gobble again and it was short. I decided to just shut up and let him come in on his own and let his curiosity get the best of him.
I did not make a peep for about 5 minutes. I began to soft put and could make out movement in front of me on the left of the pine. It was a hen making her way towards me. I figured for a fact that it was a jake that had gobbled and this hen wanted to see what other gobbler was in the area. My heart was a little lower but I was still game to harvest a jake and get me first turkey under my belt. I continued to putt softly with the hen in front of me. She was moving back and forth and seemed a bit agitated by another bird in her area.
Just then I caught movement on the ridge. I could see the white "crown" and red and blue head. I new this was a male bird. The blue made me think longbeard but his gobble sounded so weak just moments before. I still putted and this bird only half strutted, which was a complete 180 from the bird from Friday. I set my cheek up against the stock of my 870 so tight that it nearly hurt, and disciplined myself not to look at the bird an solely focus on the bead and my aiming point.
I picked an aiming point in an opening and decided when he got to this point I would call to get him to stop. I glanced to my left and watched him half strut again and get behind a tree. I knew that when he came out on the other side it would be my chance. I took a breath and focused on the bead and the opening. I exhaled and when he got in the opening I decided to do an emphasized putt to get him to pop his head up. I made out the "crown" and attempted a put. Both reeds on my freak nasty were flipped and it sounded like a coyote. The bird instantly popped his head up and I squeezed the trigger. The bird flopped over, and I took off after him. After a brief skirmish the bird was mine.
I let out a loud cheer and knew that I finally landed my bird. I texted my buddy, whom I turned down a team hunt with. We met up for a photo session.
I enjoyed this picture and loved feeling the weight of a full fan gobbler in my hands.
I loved the very blue color of the older birds head and had to get a close up.
We then took the bird around to a few places to show people. The first stop was my nephews who we took out earlier in the season. He was excited to see that Uncle Mike finally got a bird. He laughed and giggled when I made my own version of his gobble.
I wanted to get a picture of my buddy and I together. I felt bad for turning him down, and knew he wanted to do his best to get me a bird, but I just had to do it alone.
Our last stop was to my home. I could not wait to show Corbin his daddys first bird. He loved looking at him, and even Lilly the lab joined in for a great family picture.
I learned so much about turkey hunting this year. I kept to it and never gave up. I took what others have taught me and adapted it to my own style. I never once broke any rules. I rebounded from one of the worst feelings I ever had in any hunting season, with the thought of wounding that bird on Friday.
Turkey hunting was a new ball game. If you read any of my posts you will know that I came in a total novice, and ended this season with taking a smart, and older PA public land bird. I am very proud of this accomplishment and rank it as the number one hunt, and harvest of my hunting career. IMO this bird is a 3 year old bird. His spurs are very rounded, his body was big, and his beard has multiple different layers of broken strands. The bird in missed on Friday was much bigger but I will take this trophy as my first bird any day.
The final stats are 19 pounds, 8 1/8" beard, well rounded 5/8" and 3/4" spurs, and full fan with some white accents on the center feathers. These stats really mean nothing to me to be honest. Just the fact of rebounding from a terrible feeling, sticking to my guns, and outsmarting a highly hunted public land bird are enough to make this the most memorable hunt of my life.
