Wednesday, March 26, 2014

A Pair of Opening Weekend Georgia Gobblers

Turkey season always seems to sneak up on me. Just when I think hunting is over till next Fall, I'm like, "Oh yeah, Spring turkey season!"

In all honesty turkey hunting is probably the funnest hunting I've ever experienced; especially when the birds are gobbling and coming into the calls. That was not the case during our 2014 opening weekend hunt in Georgia.

I missed a hunt planned for the Florida opening weekend at Richloam WMA when my wife and three of my kids came down with the stomach flu. Instead of calling in turkey I was cleaning up vomit. But the next weekend I headed up to Georgia with my brother Jacob and his son Noah. We arrived late Friday night and headed to my brother's lease early Saturday morning. Without having a chance to scout, I started at a spot where I killed a big Tom two years ago; a dirt road that goes along the East side of the lease bordered by a 40 yards strip of planted pines that run along the property line. On the other side of the property line is a large field planted in rye that turkey love to feed and strut in every year.

I sat against a pine tree on the edge of the road as the morning light began to illuminate the woods. I heard a bird gobble once down the road from me and a little while later saw two birds fly out of a pine tree about about 80 yards down the road and head for the field. After calling for about a half an hour without hearing anything else gobble, I decided to climb up a tree stand along the road to get a look at what was out in the field.

As I sat in the stand I caught movement down at the end of the little dirt logging road. I watched as a large flock of turkey crossed the road in single file and headed onto the field. I continued to watch as the hens fed on the young green rye while one of the gobblers strutted without seeming to arouse much interest from the ladies. In past years the turkey have fed and strutted on the field until about Noon and then returned to the woods where the hens would nest and the gobblers would go looking for more love. I don't think the breeding season had kicked in yet there because the hens stayed in the field all day long leading three longing gobblers with them on a string.

I decided to set up my ground blind and wait them out, hoping they would exit the field at the same spot I had watched them enter it early that morning. I set up on the West side of the little dirt logging road and placed a Jake and two hen decoys in the middle of the road. About 1 p.m. a hen crossed the road next to me and joined the other turkey in the field. Every so often I would sneak out of the blind and climb a ladder stand to see that the turkey were still out in the field showing no intention of leaving.

I did a marathon sit until evening. About 7 p.m. a hen crossed the road to the right of my blind. I shifted right in my chair expecting the rest of them to cross at the same spot. About five minutes later I glanced to my left to see a Tom staring at my Jake decoy. I was lucky I had the camouflage screening over the small porthole windows in my Ameristep Doghouse ground blind because it gave me the cover to once again shift seating positions and get set up on this wary Tom undetected. I was also glad I had elected to use my Rossi 12 gauge single shot chambered for up to 3 1/2" magnum loads with a short 22" barrel because it made it easy to maneuver around in the blind. As the Tom took a step to cross a small water filled ditch along the road, I put the cross hairs of the zero power scope on the base of his neck and squeezed the trigger.

I should have let him cross the ditch first because after whacking him he proceeded to flop around in
Waterlogged Tom
the water. By the time I got to him and pulled him out of the ditch the beautiful bronze feathered bird had the look of a Persian cat after taking a bath. Turkey look much prettier dry then wet. But I wasn't complaining. I snapped a few pictures then carried him back to the truck where I showed him off to Jacob and Noah.

The next morning I brought my nephew Noah in the ground blind with me to take the shot if we saw a bird. The birds were gobbling better and we did see a couple hens fly down from the roost near us and go into the field. Being that I had scattered the flock the evening before the other gobblers didn't roost in the same area they did the first morning.

After taking a lunch break Noah and Jacob got their ground blind out and set it up next to the food plot about 80 yards down the road from my setup. Once again we did an all afternoon marathon sit. A little after 7 p.m. a hen crossed the road to my left, then another and another. By the time the third hen crossed my heart was beating out of my chest with anticipation because I was sure that the gobblers were following the hens. But nothing else happened. I heard the hens walk behind me and fly up to their roosts.

After waiting another ten minutes I assumed all the birds had roosted and I began to gather my things
Big Ga Tom at the cleaning shed
together. As I was putting my calls into my pack I heard something walking through the pine needles in front of me. I looked up to see a huge Tom walking along the ditch line 15 yards in front of me. I was too surprised to be excited. Instinct took over as I raised my gun and dropped him. As I jumped out of the blind, turkey erupted all around me. I heard two shots ring out from down the road where Jacob and Noah shot at a gobbler as it flew by them, both missing him. Birds were flying into trees all around us.

After the chaos calmed down I jumped across the ditch to retrieve my bird. He was a beautiful Tom sporting an 11 1/2" beard and over 1 1/8" spurs. The best part is that he didn't make it to the ditch to get wet. My iPhone had just enough battery left to snap two pictures in the fading evening light before it died from all the Star Wars Angry Birds I had played during the long afternoon sit. On every hunt there seems to be that lucky guy who kills everything and I guess this trip was just my turn to be that guy.

I was happy to return to my family with a bunch of frying meat and some turkey fans, beards and spurs that will serve as trophies to keep this unique turkey hunt alive in my memory for years to come. It definitely wasn't my idea of what an exciting turkey hunt would look like but it was an example that making an educated guess and practicing a lot of patience can pay off when the turkey aren't gobbling much or responding to the calls.