Post by Hunter on May 2, 2010 8:03:58 GMT -5
Had to be the warmest opening day ever. We made it to the woods edge just as it was light enough to see and waited for the first gobble. We didn't have to wait long. One gobbled about 100 yards into the woods right in front of us, which triggered another one about 400 yards further up the mountain, which triggered another one about 800 yards up the mountain, and over the top and down the other side the gobble went.
We had to make a decision quick, and that was Dad was going in to work the one right in front of us and I was off up the mountain to try and get in between the two roosted Toms.
I just made it to my ambush spot and was trying to set up when I heard Dad start to work his bird. This started the Tom gobbling off to my left, which started the Tom off to my right, which started the Tom in front of me. Wow me thinks...I'm surronded. Just as I put the striker to the slate to call Dad shoots...which sends the Tom to my left flying out of roost down the mountain...which sends the Tom in front of me flying off the roost down the mountain...which sends the Tom off to my right {you guessed it} flying down the dam steep mountain. Wow me thinks...I ain't surronded no more.
I called but they were not coming back. Then they let loose with wild gobbling when they got in with the hens. I could tell they were heading for the fields as their calls faded. I hot footed it down to the field and set up....but sure as shite, they came out 200 yards to my left. Five Toms and eleven Hens and right out into the middle of the 100 acer field. Game over for me...best go see what Dad shot.
20 lbs. 7" beard 3/4" spurs ....Thats my 79 year old Pappy...lol
We tagged an dressed the bird, took pictures and had a sandwich. For an hour we had not heard a gobble. It was full sun and crazy hot by this time. Well me thinks...them turks are probably getting hot out in the sun on that open field by now and most of the hens have been bread by now. There is one peninsula of trees that jut out into that field and I'm gonna set up above that for an hour... so off I went. A quick scan of the field showed no Turks so I set up and called loud and bossy. The Hen I could not see let loose with angry yelps and a Tom let a gobble fly. She appeared out of nowhere and scanned the brush for me, then went back out and tried to coax the Tom into the woods away from me...he gladly followed, but she led him right into my left 45 yards out. When he stopped, streached his neck and gobbled...I let him have it.
19 lbs. 8 1/2" beard 3/4" spurs
We had a great morning.
We had to make a decision quick, and that was Dad was going in to work the one right in front of us and I was off up the mountain to try and get in between the two roosted Toms.
I just made it to my ambush spot and was trying to set up when I heard Dad start to work his bird. This started the Tom gobbling off to my left, which started the Tom off to my right, which started the Tom in front of me. Wow me thinks...I'm surronded. Just as I put the striker to the slate to call Dad shoots...which sends the Tom to my left flying out of roost down the mountain...which sends the Tom in front of me flying off the roost down the mountain...which sends the Tom off to my right {you guessed it} flying down the dam steep mountain. Wow me thinks...I ain't surronded no more.
I called but they were not coming back. Then they let loose with wild gobbling when they got in with the hens. I could tell they were heading for the fields as their calls faded. I hot footed it down to the field and set up....but sure as shite, they came out 200 yards to my left. Five Toms and eleven Hens and right out into the middle of the 100 acer field. Game over for me...best go see what Dad shot.
20 lbs. 7" beard 3/4" spurs ....Thats my 79 year old Pappy...lol
We tagged an dressed the bird, took pictures and had a sandwich. For an hour we had not heard a gobble. It was full sun and crazy hot by this time. Well me thinks...them turks are probably getting hot out in the sun on that open field by now and most of the hens have been bread by now. There is one peninsula of trees that jut out into that field and I'm gonna set up above that for an hour... so off I went. A quick scan of the field showed no Turks so I set up and called loud and bossy. The Hen I could not see let loose with angry yelps and a Tom let a gobble fly. She appeared out of nowhere and scanned the brush for me, then went back out and tried to coax the Tom into the woods away from me...he gladly followed, but she led him right into my left 45 yards out. When he stopped, streached his neck and gobbled...I let him have it.
19 lbs. 8 1/2" beard 3/4" spurs
We had a great morning.