Jack Frost and all his damn snow couldn't stop the turkey mobile (however it did for everyone else!!) from getting into the turkey woods! However, 'he' proved that I'm really outa shape - when the turkey mobile couldn't plow forward I shoveled tracks...and let me tell you I shoveled the hell out of this road!
Needless to say we arrived around 5:00 pm on the 14th, setup camp, and hit the woods to locate and maybe put some birds to bed. Our mile hike came up blank, only to get back to camp and my father tells us "20 minutes after you left one gobbled over there, one over there...back and forth!"
Hit the woods on the opener at 5:00, walked a 1/2 mile or so and heard two gobbles, made our way towards them. Set up facing the direction we heard them last from...called a few times, fired up both birds, however one shut up and the other came calling! He flanked us, and my buddy managed a 45-50 yard shot after spooking the bird by breaking a small twig on the tree trying to re-position towards the direction he was coming. Our final position ended up only being 400 yards from our camp! Tagged and bagged the bird and headed out again.
Walked easily 2 miles or so not hearing the slightest peep until noon when we heard a gobble 500-600 yards out. Needless to say there was a lone gobbler 'trying' to seduce three hens that where 100-150 yards out from where we set up, however, they wanted nothing to do with him. I started mimicking the hens calls with the intention of drawing them to me and maybe enticing the Tom too. Needless to say two of the three took the bait and so did the Tom, he stopped strutting and came running after his 'sugar'. The only problem we had these two hens practically sitting in our laps preening themselves, dusting, pecking, while we sat very impatiently for Mr. Tom. Our luck the Tom once again came in from the side, locked up at 30 yards, and offered no shot for anyone. My father and his 65 year-old legs started to cramp and he moved slightly causing the hens to start alarm putting, and surprisingly they casually just moved off with the Tom. We watched them move up hill to our left and lost sight at 80 yards or so. I looked at my buddy and gave him the signal to "drop packs and go low and slow". Climbed 100-150 yards up hill and side hilled to where we thought they'd be and sure enough (very lucky) they were in a fold and completely blind...as were we! We moved over the ridge and see three heads scurring for cover 15 yards in front of us...Dad picked out the Tom, waited for him to walk into his minuscule shot window 12-16", and dropped the hammer. I got the honor or hefting that bird back 2 miles.
Saturday we had a bird locked up 30-35 yards over a knoll but he wouldn't commit. That evening we heard a gobble 400 yards or so above our camp. Got into the woods at 5:15 or so got into position about 100 yards from the roost. Let out a few soft yelps in reply to his gobbles and shut up. Heard him fly out of the roost, however, when he landed he was twice as far! He flew over a very deep ravine to the other side where he was calling for me to come. I decided to drop my pack and chase since this ravine offered very little protection, and would have made the climb down and up impossible with packs. Got half way up the other side when I heard this "popping noise" which I've yet to hear a tom do...it almost sounded like someone popping their lips, then I saw his head bouncing up and down looking in the direction I setup from about 70 yards out with nothing between me and him but a down tree. He kept popping and walking in a circle, and would only be visible for a 1/4 of the time. Decided that the only option was to creep forward and get within 1/2 the distance to make a good shot. He damn near caught me as I was in a very odd position moving over that 18" trunk (might be illegal in some states)...froze like the log I was man handling and waited for what seemed to be eternity (maybe a minute) for him to continue is circuit. Got within 30 yards only to see him get disinterested and start walking further away! Grabbed my slate let out a soft yelp and instantly he turned about and began popping again while half strutting and walking towards me...let his head and neck clear the only obstruction in between us (rock outcropping) and let loose! Most memorable bird thus far!
All three birds had 3/4" spurs, beards ranged from 5-7", and only one of the fans where slightly broken in the terminal band.
BTW - Anyone ever deep fry a wild bird? Any tips or suggestions if you did that are different from store bought?
