It
was a Sunday morning of spring turkey season in north Texas
and it was starting out as a "not too promising" day. I had
seen eighteen turkeys during the day on Saturday. Seven
gobblers and eleven hens. My set-ups had all been slightly
out of range and the toms were seemingly all henned-up.
Saturday had been perfect with clear skies and fair
temperatures - until right at dark. The rain had held off
until I was walking in from my evening hunt. Thunder and
lightening had been moving in from the southwest for the
last hour and a half. I had waited until the last minute in
what I thought was a great ambush spot for some gobblers to
return to from flying off the roost that morning. Well, the
best laid plans generally go to waste in a hurry!
I
had heard several shock gobbles in response to the thunder.
But, in the last thirty minutes, the woods had become
quiet. Except for the ever increasing wind, thunder, and
lightening. I finally decided that getting out of the woods
without getting "fried" would be a better deal! As I was
rapidly walking back to camp, I heard two double-gobbles
fire off in the woods. I spotted two large gobblers off to
my right with one hen. They were about 85 yards away and
above me on a small ridge. The three of them stood their
ground and the toms continued to double-gobble. I'm not
sure if they were showing complete defiance of me, the
weather, or both? Either way, I wisely decided that they
had won today's battle and I hurried back to camp.
After arriving back at camp, all the stories were told, the
food was cooked, and the skies opened up. It basically
rained the rest of the night until around 03:30 the next
morning. The weather forecast for Sunday called for
continued rain and high winds until around mid-day. Well,
all hunters are not created equal - Thankfully! Only myself
and one other hunter decided to head back out that dreary
Sunday morning. I have very good rain gear and a lot of
patience. I also have a 4-wheel drive truck!
Unfortunately, my hunting companion did not. The spot he
wanted to hunt was a good 20 minutes away in the muddy slop
from where I had decided to start out hunting. To make a
long story short, he was running late, it was very muddy,
and I couldn't get to my starting spot fast enough.
I
had decided to start out at the spot where I had seen the
two gobblers and hen yesterday evening. I parked my truck
in some bushes about 400 yards from where I wanted to start
out calling. As I was putting on my vest and loading my
shotgun, I heard gobbling from right where I was heading to
start the day. The turkeys were already up and about to
start flying down. I would have to cover about 100 yards of
open ground to get into position. With the turkeys already
moving around, I would get busted for sure out in the open.
So, I had to re-think my attack...
Since the night had been so stormy, I figured that the
turkeys had not been able to find suitable sleeping
arrangements. They had probably found the trees with the
thickest growth and just held on for dear life. I hoped to
be able to lure in some lonely toms with a variety of hen
calls. I headed off into the woods to a small clearing
overlooking a shallow draw about 100 yards away.
I settled in against a very large boulder, which was
actually quite comfortable as far as rocks go. Since the
woods were so wet, I started out with a few yelps on a box
call to try and get some "distance" with my calling. I was
immediately rewarded with five separate gobbles! I remember
grinning to myself and thinking, "This just might be a good
day to hunt after all"!
I
estimated that none of the toms were within 200 yards of
me. I decided to wait about two minutes before calling
again when three of the toms gobbled again. Well, this was
very good indeed! One of the gobbles to the east of me
actually sounded closer. I decided to up the ante. I threw
a diaphram call in my mouth, put my box call between my legs
and operated it with my left hand, and took off my hat and
flapped it against my leg with my right hand. I was making
fly-down cackles with the diaphram call, yelps with the box
call, and trying to imitate wings flapping with my hat.
Awkward as it seemed, it worked! The woods became alive
with gobbles - and some of the gobbles were getting
closer...
Not
one to "over-do" a good thing, I backed off on my calling
and pulled out my favorite slate call. Every few minutes,
before I could finish a seven yelp sequence, the toms would
cut off my calls. The gobblers were getting closer still.
After nine more minutes of calling, two gobbles rang out
about seventy-five yards away. At this time, I put down my
box call and got my shotgun into position. I looked at my
watch and it was 07:17.
After several more minutes and a few soft yelps with both
the slate and diaphram calls, the two toms were even, but
below me in the shallow draw. I could hear them drumming
and spitting, but I could not see them. This went on for
several more minutes while I was holding my shotgun at the
ready position. I had started out very excited, but now I
was starting to get a little discouraged. The toms were
simply not budging and I dared not move for fear they would
see me stand up. Now, to make matters worse, I heard some
hen yelps behind me. Two hens came strolling along right
beside me - about eleven yards away. They both gave me the
"once over", then moved to the edge of the draw. I was
starting to get really discouraged...
As
the hens paused at the edge of the draw, I saw the tops of
two fans appear! No heads, just fans. They were "full"
fans though. Excitement was rushing back in! Then, the
first hen headed down into the draw and the lead tom
pirouetted and followed her away.
Depression was rapidly returning. I started yelping with my
diaphram call to get the other tom to stick his head up.
The second hen didn't like the competition and headed down
into the draw. The second tom started to turn away and
follow her too. I gave one last series of desperation yelps
and the love sick tom made a grave error. He stopped and
finally lifted his head for a last look at his mystery
lady. I squeezed off a 3 1/2 inch magnum load of # 6 shot
and he flopped over in a heap! Elation had arrived...
I
looked at my watch and it was 08:04. Forty-seven minutes of
soft calling and holding my shotgun at the ready position.
Forty-seven minutes and all I had was a three second window
of opportunity. Forty-seven minutes and all I saw was two
fans and one curious eye and head. Forty-seven minutes of
excitement, discouragement, excitement, more discouragement,
desperation, and finally elation. Forty-seven minutes that
broke down into a final three seconds that will stay with me
forever...
For those of you who are curious, the tom weighed 19 lb. 8
oz., the beard was 9.5 inches long, and both spurs were 1
1/8 inches long. It was the first time that I have ever
used three different calls to harvest a turkey. It was also
my personal best in spur length.
Whether it's hunting, fishing, tennis, football, school,
church, or checkers... If you love to do it and have a
passion for it, don't wait for tomorrow. Go out and do it
today! And please, take somebody with you and introduce
them to it too!
