Dad and I had a blast the past few days in Texas. The conditions were tough, but we managed to pile up some nice birds.
Friday evening we arrived just in time to head to a high ridge above the creek bottom that we hunt to do some glassing before dark in hopes to find some birds heading for the roost. Just before last light we spotted two separate flocks fly up, one small flock and one fairly large flock. At dark we headed for a steakhouse in a local town to chow down on some fine steaks and come up with a good game plan for the morning hunt. I decided that Dad should try the large flock and I'd make the long walk in to the smaller flock on the edge of the property.
Saturday morning we arrived well before light and I set out for my spot. I had to slip by the larger flock and told Dad I'd hit him with a text on where I thought he should set up. As I made it to the large flock, I could tell there were more birds than we glassed from the ridge, so I told Dad to play it safe and hang back about 200yds on the ridge above in order not to bust them out if he got an early shot. I eased on to the other flock and was able to get within about 150-200yds in a small clearing. The birds were roosted on the property line, but there was a large rye field on the neighbors place and I knew it would be tough if there were other flocks roosted near the rye. As daylight broke, gobble fest began. It was a still morning and you could hear birds gobbling all over the country side, the sound us turkey nuts dream of for sure. I hit the close birds with some soft talk and they exploded. Then the hens near the rye cranked up, so I sort of figured I was fighting a losing battle and sure enough they all pitched that direction. Shortly after fly down I heard the ole Browning Gold bark in the distance, so I knew the plan had come together for Dad. I decided to make a move and get closer to the edge of the property in hopes to pull a lonesome tom across the line(the neighbors don't turkey hunt and there always seems to be birds on their place). I saw a couple flocks in the distance on the rye and about the best I could get was an occasional response to some cutting. I decided to set up in a small clearing in a place I'd had luck in the past, but the wind started up and made it difficult to hear anything. I sat tight for a while and ended up calling in 5 jakes to about 10yds. Those rascals gobbled their heads off in my lap for quite a while, but no toms came on the scene. After I had my fill playing with the jakes, I decided to head down the creek and try a few other spots. I never heard anything else, but Dad told me a tom was answering me! Oh well, I couldn't hear squat in the wind and only saw a few hens and some jakes the rest of the morn. When I got back to Dad, he had 'em stacked like cord wood
That lucky rascal had piled up 2 3yos and a 2yo. He said after they flew out, there was 4 toms and a bunch of jakes dancing around the ladies in the bottom below him. He talked one of the big toms up the hill right off the bat and smoke rolled him at about 30yds. At the shot the other birds scattered, but he sat tight and they filtered back out into the opening and began the dance again. After an hour he was able to coax two of the toms up to their dead compadre and ended up smoking both of them in one shot.
Dad's birds came in at 20, 20.5, and 22.25lbs with 1-1/8 spurs, 1-1/16 spurs, and 13/16 spurs. One of the 3yos had a double beard as well.
We took care of dad's birds and eased over to the landowner's place to chat for a while. The wind was pretty tough and it was in the upper 80s, but I still wanted to give em a try for the rest of the day. We headed back in to the field and had a quick lunch on the tailgate of the truck. While eating a sandwich I spotted a tom out in the neighbor's field, so I grabbed my binos and saw that it was two toms and about 8-10 hens hunkered down in the shade of a small clump of trees. We finished lunch and walked about a mile to the spot I got on the jakes in the am. After a long hot sit, nothing showed. Pretty sure they probably all had the same idea as the flock in the field, hunker down in the shade out of the stiff wind. We eased back out and headed for a high ridge to glass for a while. We spotted the flock on the neighbors again, but they had moved to another clump of trees. Not too far from the flock was a shooting lane that led to some large trees near a small pond and I figured they'd head that way later in the eve to roost, so we headed to the edge of the shooting lane and found a shady spot under some small trees and out of the wind. I blind called every few minutes, but nothing showed. Later that eve after a tiresome sit, Dad said "There they are!" that flock had indeed headed our way. I eased around and spotted the hens walking down that shooting lane with toms in tow. The lead toms was puffed up the whole way putting on a show for the ladies, so I eased the SX3 to my shoulder and waited him out. When he hit 46yds I waited for him to ease his head up a bit and let him have it. The other tom just stood there for a bit, but at 72yds he was out of harms way. On the board after a long, dusty, windy, and warm day.
That tom was the heaviest Rio I've ever taken, weighing in at a whopping 24-1/2lbs! He was sporting a 8-7/8" beard, 1" and 15/16" spurs.
Day 2 started with terrible winds before daylight, so I knew it was going to be tough. Dad decided to try the honey hole spot again and did see some birds, but couldn't do anything with them. I decided to go to the jake hole again and place a couple decoys on the edge of a field. If they couldn't hear me, maybe they'd spot the dekes. It started out slow, the wind was tough, I couldn't hear anything, and doubted they could hear me as well. Around 8 I was starting to feel it was a hopeless case, then looked to my right to see the 5 jakes enter an opening. They eased around in front of me about 50yds out, but I couldn't get a peep out of them. A few minutes after the jakes hit 50yds, I spotted 3 toms enter the other side of the field making tracks for the jakes. Those rascals ran over to the jakes and strutted their stuff, but wouldn't pay me or my decoys any attention. They all walked across the field and disappeared in the brush. Around 8:45 the wind actually lulled a bit, so I threw out some cutts and heard two toms fire off in the distance. I hit them again, then spotted them enter the field about 400yds out. They spotted the dekes right off and started heading my way. Every time the stopped, I hit em with some sweet talk and they'd start easing my way again. When they hit about 80-90yds they hung up in the field. I hit them with some cutts, they fired off, and headed my way again. When they made it to about 45yds, they started to loop around to my right behind some brush. When they came out in the open they were about 35yds out and starting to get alittle nervous, so I took a fine bead and let her eat. Turned out to be a pretty nice 3yo weighing in at 18.5lbs, 1-3/16" & 1-1/8" spurs, and a 9-1/2" beard.
The rest of day two was pretty fruitless with upper 90s temps and high winds.
Today was pretty brutal, the wind was at least 40mph and it was 40deg. I didn't hear any gobbling, but did see a few hens. Dad saw a few jakes and heard one tom fire off on the limb, but never heard him again.
Here's what this little guy thought of the wind:
Probably the same thing the turks were doing
We did pretty good despite the high winds. I'm wore out and fixin to hit the hay.
Ya'll have a good one,
Reloader
