A group of guys and I from work take an out of state guided trip to hunt turkeys almost every year together. The year before last, I had a bunch of close calls, but never could seal the deal and ended up the only one out of the 4 guys that didn't get a shot opportunity. Once I got back home I hunted the local turkeys and they continued the trickery that the Texas birds pulled on me.
With funds being low, the usual turkey hunt in Texas was cancelled for last year. To make matters, worse, the local Louisiana birds picked up where they left off the year before and continued to outsmart me every hunt. For two years in a row, I went without killing a bird. That's how it happens sometimes.
When this year rolled around I was happy to hear that the guys were going to get back together to make our trip to Texas as we had done in the past. However, the only available weekend for everyone else was the one weekend that I had a previous event scheduled with my middle daughter. My dad felt bad for my situation and invited me on a trip to Texas to hunt turkeys with some clients he was taking. Well, the clients cancelled a few days before the trip but my dad still wanted to go through with it and make it a father/son hunt - even better.
I picked my dad up from his house and drove to the airport and we eventually got up in the air heading west.
Once we landed, we picked up some groceries for the weekend and then made our way to the camp house. Although we got a later than usual start due to some airline troubles, we still made it in time to throw on some camo and make an evening hunt.
My dad dropped me off at a spot where he had some success in the past and he drove off to hunt another area a few minutes away. Twenty minutes into the hunt I had my gun still leaning against the tree and still hadn't pulled a call out as I was trying to "take it all in" and let everything calm down, and make a plan of where to walk next. Then out of nowhere, a gobbler thundered about 100 yards away. Holy Crap!!! I put in a mouth call and grabbed my gun and put it on my knee and got ready. I yelped one time to him and he gobbled right back. I only made a few clucks and purrs from that point on and he came strutting in within a few minutes. He came out from behind a juniper bush about 30 yards away in full strut and I shot him.
Wow, that was too easy I thought to myself after I grabbed my bird, took a few pictures and settled down back in my spot. I was almost discouraged how the hunt came together so quickly especially after going for such a long time since being able to shoot a bird in the previous two years. Oh well, maybe I can call another bird in and maybe do some videoing and take some pictures, I thought. Well as luck would have it, I didn't hear another gobble the rest of the evening and only saw two hens and a couple of does. I guess maybe it wasn't so easy and I just got lucky with the timing.
My dad picked me up after he finished his hunt and we made it back to camp and we grilled some burgers. The next morning we went to hunt together at another spot trying to near some roosting birds. We settled in a likely spots where he had heard birds roost before and waited for the sun to rise and birds to give away their location. I don't normally get to hunt with my dad and he has only been turkey hunting for 2 years so to say I was excited was an understatement.
With one tag already punched, I could go without killing another bird and be completely happy so my main focus was to get my dad a bird. However, my dad was wanting me to get another bird so we settled on doubling up if the chance became available. As the sun started lighting up the sky, the birds started chirping, turkeys started gobbling, and sure enough there were some turkeys roosted probably within 100 yards from where we sitting. After a couple of tree yelps to let em know where we were, I didn't make another sound until they pitched down. After that I did some soft yelping and a couple of clucks, and coaxed a couple birds to come into range. By the time the two lead gobblers got into range and from behind the bushes, they were in full strut and facing away from us. They walked away never coming out of strut and slowly got out of range before lowering their tail fans. Luckily, one of the other gobblers was still heading our way and coming within range. The time for being greedy and trying to get a double was over and I convinced my dad he should shoot the lone bird before it decided to leave and follow the two lead gobblers. My dad pulled the trigger and the bird started to flop. After some high fives and some hugs we went and grabbed his bird.
We stuffed his bird in a tree and tried to circle around the remaining birds which were making their way down the draw through the mesquite. They responded to our calling, but never would come back into gun range. We went back, picked up my dad's bird, took a few pictures, and headed back to camp.
Pretty much the rest of the weekend was uneventful. I covered lots of ground, but the wind picked up for the next two days blowing steady at 20 mph and gusting to 50+ mph. The birds which were very talkative for the previous 24 hours got very quiet and weren't moving very well. I covered lots of ground and heard a few birds, but they were not very cooperative.
Even with the change in weather and bird interaction, I got to see a few beautiful sunsets and I couldn't complain how the weekend had gone so far.
The evening before the last hunt my dad and I discussed where to hunt for our final hunt. We finally decided that I would set up where my dad killed his bird a couple mornings back and he would set up on the next ridge where we heard birds previous mornings. I set up in the same spot my dad and I sat before and hoped that some of the birds came back to roost in the same trees that they did the morning my dad shot his bird.
As the sun rose, I noticed that the air was completely still and as the birds started talking, my excitement built up. Although they were not roosted in the same two trees as the previous hunt, they were a little further to the left by about 60 yards.
After a couple of soft tree yelps with a response from a couple of the gobblers I sat quiet hoping they would head in my direction after they pitched down. I'm not sure how many gobblers were roosted in that tree, but the first two headed straight to me after they landed. A couple of clucks here and there kept them coming my direction. They gave me my first opportunity to take a double and I put the dot from my FF3 right between their heads when they were inches apart and pulled the trigger. Both birds dropped right there.
The trip started and ended with a bang (literally) and was tough at the time in between but it was certainly great overall. I was happy to be able to get to hunt these rios especially with my dad. It definitely added to the overall enjoyment to the hunt and the trip as well.
