Big Bird Down!

On my last post I shared about my tough luck turkey hunting pubic land the opening week in Florida: I missed a gobbler the first morning and hit a bird two days later while peppering an old guy behind it who preceded to jump up and shoot the same bird, claiming it for himself. So my turkey season began with two very frustrating experiences. Hunting aint' like going to the grocery store and picking up what you want. It is a highly variable experience filled with highs and lows. Sometimes I feel like Michael Waddell with every animal in the woods walking right to me, and other times I feel like Jimmy Big Time who couldn't get close to an animal in a petting zoo; but here's what I've learned through many slow times, if you stick with, it sooner or later things will break wide open. Thankfully, I've found turkey redemption this weekend in Georgia.

I had to work opening morning but right after I got off my brother Jacob picked me up and we headed to our lease in Southeast Georgia. We arrived at the camp late in the evening and without having an opportunity to do any preseason scouting I didn't  know where to start in morning. Jacob, who's a braver man than me, brought along his three little boys; confining himself to stay in his Double Bull blind all weekend. My plan was to hear some birds gobble and go to them. I went to sleep with low expectations for the morning, expecting it to be more of a scouting expedition than a killin' one.

After getting three little boys under 9 years old up and at em', we reached the woods a little later than we hoped. The first light of morning was already glowing over the pines when my brother dropped me off at a little logging road where I had heard birds last season. I got out of the truck, walked about 50 yards and hit my slate call. Instantly I was cut off by a pair of gobbling birds about 150 yards down a pine row in front of me! My expectation for the morning shot up. I crept down to the end of the pine row where I set up my hen decoy and sat against a pine tree. The birds must have gobbled a hundred times before they flew down and headed towards a field on a neighboring property. As their gobbles got further away I crept up to the property line where I watched the two Toms strut in the field with their harem of hens. As they stood in full strut, five deer crossed the field single file behind them. I was truly enjoying the morning.

After watching the pair of Toms for about half an hour I noticed they seemed to be working their way towards the property line on the corner of our lease. I decided to take a walk around and see if they would come over to our side. I was walking a road that was separated from the field by a few pine rows while keeping my eyes on the strutting gobblers. Then I was stopped dead in my tracks by a fanning tail in the pines to my left. At first I thought it might be someone's decoy until it began to move. It was a strutting Tom right off the road! I quickly jumped into the little ditch on the opposite side of the road and belly crawled my way even with the strutting Tom. As I peeked over the ditch I could see his tail fanning at about 40 yards. I put my hen decoy up and did some calling but the Tom wouldn't budge. After waiting for about ten minutes I decided to make a move. I crawled up a little way till I put some brush between myself and the bird and then crossed the road like a big snake. When I got to a pine tree on the other side I lifted my head hoping to be within 30 yards of the bird. He was nowhere to be seen. Thinking he had busted me crossing the road I stalked towards where I had last seen him. I think he startled me as much as I did him when we met at 20 yards. His retreat into the pines was met by two shots from my semi-auto 12 gauge. Then to my horror I watched a bird fly through the pines and over the road as I went running after it.

I was fuming mad. At this point in my frustrating hunting season it just seemed typical. I could still see the first two toms out in the field so I begrudgingly made my way back to the spot I had shot to set up and start over. As I walked up I noticed something flopping on the ground. It was a big Tom! I ran up and put another round in its head just because I wanted to make sure no old guy jumped out from behind a bush again to claim my bird. I was jumping up and down pumping my fist in the air with pure joy. I finally got my break and killed a bird in the most lucky fashion.

Not only was he a bird but he was the biggest gobbler I have ever seen. He sported an 11 inch beard with both spurs a little over an inch and a quarter; but the most noticeable thing to me was that his toenails curled out and around over three inches long. Weighing in at 25 lb. he was truly a big freak nasty. I had bagged probably the biggest bird of my life on the first morning of my hunt so the pressure was off.

I had some close calls with a couple more Toms but they were all henned up and wouldn't budge their course. I did have a big strutting Tom at about 40 yards but I decided against taking a long shot due to my failures so far in that department. I watched him fly up to roost and planned to get him on the last morning of our hunt.

When my alarm went off the next morning I was both tired and feeling sorry for my brother who was trying to wake his boys. I offered to stay back to watch his youngest two and drew him a map on a napkin of where the Tom had roosted the evening before. He and his oldest son set up early where I told them but he decided to move towards some other gobblers sounding off further down. My nephew Noah was left in the spot. The hens flew down first and ran towards the neighboring field. He got up to move when the gobbler sounded off 20 yards away and ran off. He was bummed!

Meanwhile I was back at camp making pancakes for the boys and doing dishes in the cook shed. I walked out to the road to take the garbage out and heard a gobble across the street in the blueberry field owned by a good friend of ours. I didn't believe my ears until I heard him sound a second time. I walked up the road and looked down the edge of the field to see a big bronze tail fan gleaming in the morning sun. My gun was with my brother in his truck but then I remembered, my bow was in the bedroom! I sprinted back to the house and threw on some camo pants and my boots. Since my hat was in the truck I tied a camo shirt over my head like a ninja. Grabbing my bow, I ran back to the field and peered around the corner. The gobbler was still standing tail open in the same spot. Once again I hit the ground and belly crawled my way through the tall grass towards a big oak tree. When I finally made my way there I peeked around the tree to see my victim. A metal folding chair with a bronze back that looked like a turkey fan in the sunlight. A little further to the left was a hen watching me stalk a chair. She took off into the woods and I'm sure the gobbler followed her. I was lucky this trip but not that lucky.

Hunting can be tough and at times downright frustrating. But hang in there and things will eventually work out for the human and not the animal. After a tough start to the season I got the bird of a lifetime and made a really good stalk on a folding chair. Get out in the woods and sooner or later you'll have your break as well.