Skully
PMA Member
Sometimes, after weeks of crappy weather, birds that won't cooperate, botched shots on ones that did cooperate, ticks, sleep deprivation and loss of vacation.......you just have to pull out the big gun and shoot one in the FACE!!! /forum/images/%%GRAEMLIN_URL%%/grin.gif Did I mention that I love turkey hunting? /forum/images/%%GRAEMLIN_URL%%/wink.gif Last week I had reached a point where something had to die. I was about to take a trip to the rubber-room from all the ups and mostly downs I had faced this spring. Our youth season was a bust and kudos to all those little ones who braved the elements. Me and my 9 yr old spent almost 7 hours one day sitting in that crap. Anyway, the river was out last week and the gobbling had increased in the bluff country. I set up early on a Skunk River bluff and waited for the gobbling to commence. To my surprise as the sun crept up, I heard only one lone gobble, and he was on the other side of the friggin river! I almost went postal right then and there but I decide to give my glass pot call a try. The high pitched tree- yelps met the gobbler's little ugly ears with delight. He gobbled his fool head off with every soft purr and cluck I threw at him. I used my hat as a "fly-down" call against my leg and then I made some noise in the leaves. To my surprise, like a great gift from above, he came sailing across the mud-churned river and landed 60 yds from me! The little thumper in my neck was working overtime as my blood pressure was rising. His spits and drums were getting louder and soon I saw his head coming through the gooseberries, then he disappeared....had he seen me? I didn't move an inch, how could he? Was this to be another one of "those" days? The next gobble was deafening as he had done a 180 sneak around my position and was looking for his hen. Luckily the green up was heavy here and I had enough cover to change my position. The pot call lay still while my mouth call brought him his last few steps. As anxious as I was to get a bird on the ground I had to let him fill the flooded bottoms with one last thunderous gobble. Once he did I sent a stinging swarm of #5's his way and I had my first bird of the season. It was a perfect morning and I had finally stumbled onto a perfect turkey. A huge weight was lifted and I thanked God for such a beautiful morning. As I packed up my things tossed about under the big oak I'd been sitting against I found a small forked shed as an added bonus. The wood ducks talked to each other in the flooded timber below me. Yep, this turkey hunting stuff is for me. /forum/images/%%GRAEMLIN_URL%%/cool.gif
Not a giant, but a little over 22 lbs and my first THREE bearded bird ever!
A Pic of his beards...
Now its time to go get #2!
Not a giant, but a little over 22 lbs and my first THREE bearded bird ever!
A Pic of his beards...
Now its time to go get #2!
