no luck with Sophia, we actually got the gun up, scope covers off, and red dot on after a couple miles hiking and getting 3 LB's to come to 100 yds, but they hung up.
This was the first morning I've actually gotten to hunt for myself this year, every other trip has been with someone else being the primary shooter. Since I've already killed 3 this year, and called in another 5 for others, I wanted to save my last couple tags for some special birds. The boss bird on this particular farm had been on trail cam since the fall, and I estimated him to have 1 3/8" spurs in the pics I had of him... but even more impressive was his beard thickness and size. He was obviously heavier than the other birds on camera, and I nicknamed him 'butterball'. I've had encounters with others 4 or 5 times this year, and actually had a 25 yard shot on him last Saturday, but since my guest didn't have a clear shot on him I let him walk.
I decided to go after him this morning, as conditions were pretty miserable, I'm actually glad Sophia couldn't wake up. I hiked back to my listening spot in the dark, with plans to adjust positioning when the first bird gave himself away. Later than normal, and much less frequently than normal, the toms started waking up and gobbling. I adjusted 100 yards to the west to an island of trees in the field, but often contain roosted birds. As I slipped in, I found 3 hens asleep with their heads tucked. I skirted around them placing myself between them and the gobbling bird 150 yards away. I got comfortable at the base of a big cedar, got the calls out, and prepared for what I expected to be a long time of motionless hunting. Well before flydown time, a group of hens 50 yards to the west of the gobbler began to alarm call, putt, and cluck. 3 or 4 then flushed out of their roost tree across the field and landed right above me, one going crazy on the limb 10 yards away. OFC, this drove the gobbler nuts. Then here he comes... mr coyote. He skirted by me getting as close as 50 yards, and I already had in mind he was going to get blasted if he made it to 40. Unfortunately, he must have smelled me as he put on the brakes and spun around and went back the way he came.
Up to this point, I hadn't made a single call. Both because I didn't want the hens above me to spook, and because I didn't need to.... they were doing all the calling for me. A few minutes later, someone emptied their magazine at a bird about 500 yards to the southwest. Gobble from my target bird, but also a gobble from a bird I hadn't heard roosting in the same block of trees I was in, not more than 50 yards away. 3 jakes and a hen squawking passed by on the ground 10 yards away, then butterball and 3 hens pitched off the back fenceline and landed in the opening in front of me about 65 yards away. I made a 3 note soft yelp to guide him my way, and he went into half strut for a second, then realized he wasn't going to be able to fluff out with wet feathers. He steadily eased my way, and when he hit 35 yards, I made my second call of the morning to get him to raise his head... BOOM, bird down.
I kinda feel bad about this one... I had envisioned a 3 hour battle coaxing him into range while he was in strut the whole time, but sometimes things are just too easy. The real deal did all the hard work, with a little extra help from the coyote.
I've got 1 more bird with 1.5" spurs on another farm, and if I don't get a chance at him, I'll be eating my last tag.
Only have 2 more 20g TSS shells left from the 10 I started with. 1 patterning round, the rest have been flung at birds. Hoping I don't have to break out the 10g this year.
