After a frustrating season, PathfinderJR finally scored on a Tom last week (I've been trying to get him to come on here and tell the story himself, but baseball, school, and guitar all have him swamped...so I decided to come on and tell it).
He struck out during the youth season (bad weather, bad luck, etc...), and opening weekend of the regular season wasn't going any better.
We have a flock of turkeys near the house, but the property is a patchwork of different people's yards, small pastures, riverbank, riprap, etc... so we never really pursued getting permission. This year though, JR started taking the dog for a walk in the afternoon and knocking on doors and asking permission. After asking about 5 different people (and tracking down a couple of landowners by phone that live out of state), he wound up getting permission on 3 key pieces of land that tie into each other.
So, last week, coming home from baseball practice we saw part of the flock headed towards a woodlot that he has permission on. So we geared up and headed back towards the river to ambush them on the way to their roost.
Getting settled in we spooked the birds and they moved off in a different direction. I had forgotten something back at the truck, so I left JR in his hasty blind and hiked back to the road. About 5 minutes after I left him, I heard a shot.
He met me halfway back, dragging the Tom on the ground like it was a deer
(to big for him to carry over his shoulder.
Turned out, right after I left, he decided to improve his hasty brush blind by moving some sticks around. A branch cracked on him and when it did, he heard a gobble. In the tree above him
The Tom had been roosted there the whole time we were setting up and we never saw him. JR looked up, saw the bird puff up on his branch, saw he could shoot in a safe direction, and killed him with a single shot.
Not exactly the classic turkey hunt, but it was the first thing he has ever killed by himself, without me sitting by his elbow coaching him.
He was so excited that he could hardly make a coherent sentence when I got to him. Not a bad bird, had a 5 inch beard. He is skinned and sitting in the freezer awaiting the taxidermy supplies. Will make a nice summer project for us.
When we got him home, little brother came running out in his pajamas and cowboy boots to see the trophy. Now, all he talks about is getting big enough to hunt turkeys too...
