WMAn
Well-Known Member
I introduced a friend to turkey hunting yesterday. My friend has hunted deer for years, but never turkey. We hunted public land in Middle Tennessee.
When I take guests out, especially someone new to the sport, I like to give them a quality experience that would rival the best outfitter. After thinking things over, I decided to get up very early (1:30 am), drive to the public land, and set up a pop-up blind before picking up my friend.
I arrived at the hunt location at 2:15 am. My plan was to slip into an area where a few days before I found a gobbler strutting for hens shortly after flydown. Pre-season scouting gave me a good idea of where this bird roosted and where he crosses a fence to get into the area where I had spotted him just a few days before. My plan was to setup the blind within range of the fence crossing.
The trip to the fence went as planned. I started slowly towards the fence crossing. WINGBEATS from the trees above. Crap! Now what? I stood in the dark woods with the blind on my back and a chair in each hand considering my options.
I decided on plan B. Plan B was to make a very long walk to another known roost. I knew exactly where the birds would be at the second location, but the distance would prevent taking the blind. I typically like to put newbies in a popup because it's more comfortable and forgiving of rookie mistakes. But, I had to play the hand I was dealt.
I picked my friend up at 4:30 am. At 4:45, we left the truck and made it to our listening spot at 5:30.
The first gobble was at 5:38 am. Five minutes passed. Ten minutes, other birds are starting to gobble. Fifteen minutes and still no gobble from the location I planned on us hunting. At this point, I am really starting to get nervous.
Goooobbbbbblllllleeeeee!
No more than 100 yards and exactly where I expected him to be. We slipped in to about 75 yards. I set my friend up and moved behind him 30 yards.
We were setup so that there was a slight rise in the terrain between us and where the birds would fly down. The birds would be in range as soon as they came in sight.
The birds continued to gobble. For about a five minute stretch, the birds we were hunting matched another set of birds in the distance gobble for gobble. It was something to hear.
Flydown came, and we were not alone as a rowdy group of hens joined the party. The gobblers were responding to my calls, but I toned it down, when the hens joined the gobblers.
I had explained to my friend that when the gobble is so loud that it feels like someone has grabbed and shook you get ready because he's close. Fifteen minutes after flydown, after a quiet period, GOBBLE! Wow, I felt that. I watched my friend ready his gun.
Five minutes passed, when I caught movement over my right shoulder. It was the birds. They had passed by us just out of sight and were about to go into a field on private land. I yelped. No gobble, but the birds turned slightly down an old road still on the public land.
Now or never...
The birds were 50 yards from me and out of range for my friend. I slowly got into position. The hens passed first followed by a strutting tom. I drew a bead on the strutter and starting look for an opening. A second gobbler pops into an opening. He's not strutting.
BOOM!
The unlucky second gobbler goes down.
I wish my friend could have gotten the shot, but I think he's hooked just the same.
I did not measure the beard and spurs or weigh the bird. He was a fully mature tom and that's all I really care about.
When I take guests out, especially someone new to the sport, I like to give them a quality experience that would rival the best outfitter. After thinking things over, I decided to get up very early (1:30 am), drive to the public land, and set up a pop-up blind before picking up my friend.
I arrived at the hunt location at 2:15 am. My plan was to slip into an area where a few days before I found a gobbler strutting for hens shortly after flydown. Pre-season scouting gave me a good idea of where this bird roosted and where he crosses a fence to get into the area where I had spotted him just a few days before. My plan was to setup the blind within range of the fence crossing.
The trip to the fence went as planned. I started slowly towards the fence crossing. WINGBEATS from the trees above. Crap! Now what? I stood in the dark woods with the blind on my back and a chair in each hand considering my options.
I decided on plan B. Plan B was to make a very long walk to another known roost. I knew exactly where the birds would be at the second location, but the distance would prevent taking the blind. I typically like to put newbies in a popup because it's more comfortable and forgiving of rookie mistakes. But, I had to play the hand I was dealt.
I picked my friend up at 4:30 am. At 4:45, we left the truck and made it to our listening spot at 5:30.
The first gobble was at 5:38 am. Five minutes passed. Ten minutes, other birds are starting to gobble. Fifteen minutes and still no gobble from the location I planned on us hunting. At this point, I am really starting to get nervous.
Goooobbbbbblllllleeeeee!
No more than 100 yards and exactly where I expected him to be. We slipped in to about 75 yards. I set my friend up and moved behind him 30 yards.
We were setup so that there was a slight rise in the terrain between us and where the birds would fly down. The birds would be in range as soon as they came in sight.
The birds continued to gobble. For about a five minute stretch, the birds we were hunting matched another set of birds in the distance gobble for gobble. It was something to hear.
Flydown came, and we were not alone as a rowdy group of hens joined the party. The gobblers were responding to my calls, but I toned it down, when the hens joined the gobblers.
I had explained to my friend that when the gobble is so loud that it feels like someone has grabbed and shook you get ready because he's close. Fifteen minutes after flydown, after a quiet period, GOBBLE! Wow, I felt that. I watched my friend ready his gun.
Five minutes passed, when I caught movement over my right shoulder. It was the birds. They had passed by us just out of sight and were about to go into a field on private land. I yelped. No gobble, but the birds turned slightly down an old road still on the public land.
Now or never...
The birds were 50 yards from me and out of range for my friend. I slowly got into position. The hens passed first followed by a strutting tom. I drew a bead on the strutter and starting look for an opening. A second gobbler pops into an opening. He's not strutting.
BOOM!
The unlucky second gobbler goes down.
I wish my friend could have gotten the shot, but I think he's hooked just the same.
I did not measure the beard and spurs or weigh the bird. He was a fully mature tom and that's all I really care about.
