MickThompson
Well-Known Member
That's what I got this morning. I hit a new farm with a friend today. There's a 20 acre hay field up top with steep wooded drains coming together all around it. We parked at the edge of the field and waited for the woods to wake up.
First gobble was way off to the east, 2 ridges over. My partner has hunted here before and swore the turkeys on that side NEVER come to the hayfield... Never say never in turkey hunting. A quick check of the app showed another field at the top of the ridge where the bird was roosted so now we have a foot race to cover 800 yards and above the bird and between it and the field.
As we top the ridge with our backs to the property line we heard a muffled gobble below us- a sure sign that the gobbler was on our side of the big creek in the bottom. But as we listened, he was steadily marching... west. West to the field we had just abandoned.
Another foot race back to the field edge. We waited for the courtesy gobble to confirm that he's still in the woods with no line of site to the field and made a mad dash across to the woods on the other side. Success- well, almost. As we skirted the field edge, a group of hens spotted us and exploded to the woods. Hens in the woods, hens in the trees, hens everywhere, right between us and the gobbler. We should've gone straight into cover instead of the old logging trail. That said, we are finally in a position to make a move and get in front of this bird.
We moved down hill and paralleled the field to its southern tip. A point ran off from there and it could serve as the perfect ambush point. We worked our way carefully into position and waited. Did he see us? Did the hens spook? We sat in silence, anticipating the gobble. Then it came. And another, and another. I scratched the leaves, clucked and purred, and waited. We were in front of him- he was on our time instead of the other way around. He gobbled at crows. He gobbled at woodpeckers. He gobbled at the neighbor's dog. But he wouldn't budge- he found the hens. I was content to wait him out though.
Suddenly a second gobbler fired off maybe 60 yards down the ridge to our right from a saddle. This was our opportunity to fire up the calling. After some yelps and cutts, we heard beating wings and clashing limbs- the second gobbler flew up in a big red oak looking for his hen. I'd heard about wily old gobblers limb-hopping but had never seen it myself. The thickening canopy hid us as he craned his neck around.
He helicoptered back to the ground 25 yards in front of me, perfectly centered behind a 6" red maple. He landed right in front of my partner's gun with a clear, basketball sized path to his noggin. The old gobbler stiffened up and periscoped for that hen.
2, 3, then 4 seconds passed. The gobbler didn't move, and my buddy didn't fire. He wanted me to take this bird. Satisfied there was no hen and he'd been duped, that old bird ran straight away from us, putting his warning to the rest of the flock as he went.
Oh well. Just means we get to chase him again.
First gobble was way off to the east, 2 ridges over. My partner has hunted here before and swore the turkeys on that side NEVER come to the hayfield... Never say never in turkey hunting. A quick check of the app showed another field at the top of the ridge where the bird was roosted so now we have a foot race to cover 800 yards and above the bird and between it and the field.
As we top the ridge with our backs to the property line we heard a muffled gobble below us- a sure sign that the gobbler was on our side of the big creek in the bottom. But as we listened, he was steadily marching... west. West to the field we had just abandoned.
Another foot race back to the field edge. We waited for the courtesy gobble to confirm that he's still in the woods with no line of site to the field and made a mad dash across to the woods on the other side. Success- well, almost. As we skirted the field edge, a group of hens spotted us and exploded to the woods. Hens in the woods, hens in the trees, hens everywhere, right between us and the gobbler. We should've gone straight into cover instead of the old logging trail. That said, we are finally in a position to make a move and get in front of this bird.
We moved down hill and paralleled the field to its southern tip. A point ran off from there and it could serve as the perfect ambush point. We worked our way carefully into position and waited. Did he see us? Did the hens spook? We sat in silence, anticipating the gobble. Then it came. And another, and another. I scratched the leaves, clucked and purred, and waited. We were in front of him- he was on our time instead of the other way around. He gobbled at crows. He gobbled at woodpeckers. He gobbled at the neighbor's dog. But he wouldn't budge- he found the hens. I was content to wait him out though.
Suddenly a second gobbler fired off maybe 60 yards down the ridge to our right from a saddle. This was our opportunity to fire up the calling. After some yelps and cutts, we heard beating wings and clashing limbs- the second gobbler flew up in a big red oak looking for his hen. I'd heard about wily old gobblers limb-hopping but had never seen it myself. The thickening canopy hid us as he craned his neck around.
He helicoptered back to the ground 25 yards in front of me, perfectly centered behind a 6" red maple. He landed right in front of my partner's gun with a clear, basketball sized path to his noggin. The old gobbler stiffened up and periscoped for that hen.
2, 3, then 4 seconds passed. The gobbler didn't move, and my buddy didn't fire. He wanted me to take this bird. Satisfied there was no hen and he'd been duped, that old bird ran straight away from us, putting his warning to the rest of the flock as he went.
Oh well. Just means we get to chase him again.
