The thread about your first bird got me to thinking, which could be dangerous. Anywho, after thinking about all the years i've hunted, I remember a whole lot more detail about the one's I didn't kill, than the one's I did. There were those at the old Big Sandy West Vaco...the one's at LBL..etc. Anyone else??
The one's I HAVEN'T killed
- Thread starter Bullfrog
- Start date
Same here..seems like the ones on public land stand out alittle more. However one year I hunted one on my place that no matter what I did I just could not out fox the ol Monarch..I spent 2 weeks on that rascal, I firmly believe he somehow knew when I was there. I could not even bushwhack him....I had fun playin always figured it just wasnt meant to be.
kdxdude
Well-Known Member
I have 3 that are burned into my mind. I sure do appreciate them ol tough birds, I learned more from them than all of the ones I killed.
Uncle Jesse
Well-Known Member
Those birds will make ya lose sleep.
catman529
Well-Known Member
I still get a sick feeling when I think back to the morning I heard a gobble nearby, then wingbeats a few minutes later, and when I decided to creep to a new position I didn't think maybe ole longbeard was right out in the field almost in range, till I saw his head pop up and he started running away. Not so much the bird being smart, but me being dumb. I think it was the same 2 yr old gobbler I had multiple encounters with (and even shot and missed). Well it was my first year last year and I learned a bit. Ready to screw up and learn more this year... and hope to bag one longbeard in the process.
Setterman
Well-Known Member
I could fill pages with stories on birds that have just flat whipped me over the years. Some of them really are enjoyable to think back on as each season approaches.
One that sticks in mind is from about 3 years ago in an area here known as Brimstone to most locals, or so that is what the locals I run into call it. Long story short, set up on a bird that started up on his own around 8:30 in a bottom, set up for what I thought was a perfect set up to kill the bird. I was on the point of a finger ridge about 15 yards above the bottom with a great 40 yard view from my left to right side. Every peep made at the bird he responded to, and gobbled so much on his own that I really didn't call much at all. After hours of fighting his will he finally began to approach offering me a glimpse at about 60 yards. He was in full strut and slowly easing towards his last breaths. He would stop to gobble, and drum, then take 2 steps and repeat. It was perfect. He closed to about 40 yards, never offering a clean shot before he seemingly vanished and went silent. Having played the game for 20+ years I knew this routine, he would probably pop up somewhere to my left or right, and as luck usually has it, on my right which for a righty makes it hard to shoot. This was late in the season so I was concerned about shifting, but took the chance and slightly turned to the right anticipating his trick. A period of time went by, who knows how long as most will understand who have experienced this stuff before, and he hadn't shown or gobbled. I eeked out a cluck and he blew my hat off from behind me! I still to this day have no idea how he got behind me, and after he worked on up the mountain and vanished I investigated to see how he pulled it off, and never could figure out how he slipped through unseen. I went back 3 more times after him that season, and never contacted him again. Great hunt, but one of those that leaves us scratching our heads when it is over.
One that sticks in mind is from about 3 years ago in an area here known as Brimstone to most locals, or so that is what the locals I run into call it. Long story short, set up on a bird that started up on his own around 8:30 in a bottom, set up for what I thought was a perfect set up to kill the bird. I was on the point of a finger ridge about 15 yards above the bottom with a great 40 yard view from my left to right side. Every peep made at the bird he responded to, and gobbled so much on his own that I really didn't call much at all. After hours of fighting his will he finally began to approach offering me a glimpse at about 60 yards. He was in full strut and slowly easing towards his last breaths. He would stop to gobble, and drum, then take 2 steps and repeat. It was perfect. He closed to about 40 yards, never offering a clean shot before he seemingly vanished and went silent. Having played the game for 20+ years I knew this routine, he would probably pop up somewhere to my left or right, and as luck usually has it, on my right which for a righty makes it hard to shoot. This was late in the season so I was concerned about shifting, but took the chance and slightly turned to the right anticipating his trick. A period of time went by, who knows how long as most will understand who have experienced this stuff before, and he hadn't shown or gobbled. I eeked out a cluck and he blew my hat off from behind me! I still to this day have no idea how he got behind me, and after he worked on up the mountain and vanished I investigated to see how he pulled it off, and never could figure out how he slipped through unseen. I went back 3 more times after him that season, and never contacted him again. Great hunt, but one of those that leaves us scratching our heads when it is over.
7mminatree
Well-Known Member
LOL, those are the one's that make you humble! Had one a few years back that whipped our butt's for two years. I guess he died of old age. We named him the "Professor"
Had more than one season wrecker evade me. But you are correct, those are the ones that you remember the most.
Had one on Catoosa a few years ago that I had worked a few times. Finally, one morning toward the end of the season, I thought I had a great chance. My approach was through an old-stand pine thicket, but it was actually very open under the canopy. I got to maybe 100 yards of him.
He was roosted in the hardwoods just outside the thicket on the side of a hill that led down to a creek. Very thick down there, so I knew he had to come my way when he left the roost.
I let him gobble himself out on the roost, and when he hit the ground I gave him two of the softest clucks on the slate I could possible give him and just sat the call down and got ready.
He didn't respond, which was not unexpected.
The sun had just popped up, and there was a foggy mist in the thicket scattered with rays of sunshine. It was beautiful! I scanned left to right trying to catch a glimpse. Suddenly he just appeared at about 60 steps. He paused in the opening for maybe a three count, and then seeing no hen, kept at a slow pace to my right and came no closer.
I did try to call after he left, and stayed in the area another hour or so. He never made another peep :( !
Had one on Catoosa a few years ago that I had worked a few times. Finally, one morning toward the end of the season, I thought I had a great chance. My approach was through an old-stand pine thicket, but it was actually very open under the canopy. I got to maybe 100 yards of him.
He was roosted in the hardwoods just outside the thicket on the side of a hill that led down to a creek. Very thick down there, so I knew he had to come my way when he left the roost.
I let him gobble himself out on the roost, and when he hit the ground I gave him two of the softest clucks on the slate I could possible give him and just sat the call down and got ready.
He didn't respond, which was not unexpected.
The sun had just popped up, and there was a foggy mist in the thicket scattered with rays of sunshine. It was beautiful! I scanned left to right trying to catch a glimpse. Suddenly he just appeared at about 60 steps. He paused in the opening for maybe a three count, and then seeing no hen, kept at a slow pace to my right and came no closer.
I did try to call after he left, and stayed in the area another hour or so. He never made another peep :( !
bvoss
Well-Known Member
I have one similar to Setterman's. I was heading in one morning and was a bit late and had a bird scream at me just off the crest of a hill top ( all woods). The property line was at the top of the hill so I had to set up below the bird in the flat unfortunately. He was gobbling his head off on the roost and when he hit the ground he just kept hammering. Once he hit the ground I really worked him hard trying to fire him on up and he just screamed at everything I threw at him. Finally he shut up at about 50-60 yards out and I just knew he was gonna come sneaking in. After about 20 minutes of silence, I purred really soft and he screamed right over my right shouler within shotgun range. I could not get turned around on him and that was the last peep I heard out of him. I still to this day have no idea how he circled me, and where he went after he gobbled.
kdxdude
Well-Known Member
Old Thunderlips is what I named him, hunted him for 2 seasons. Bird would gobble like crazy but would never do the same thing twice & if ya called to him he went the other way. My brother & I slipped down to the edge of a field & there he was struttin with a hen about 100 yards away. We set up under a big cedar that had limbs all the way to the ground. I made a few call & the hen came in & about stepped on us, ol Thunderlips stood in one spot about 60 yards out in full strut. The hen walked right past us & we were between Tlips & her, all of a sudden he broke outta strut & ran across about a 300 yard field as hard as he could go. %$&*&^ turkey!!
The next year he was gobblin good one mornin on the backside of the property. My wife & I slipped in about 100 yards below him. There was an old logging road that went off of our property & went onto the next property. I had heard a truck pull in on the adjacent property before daylight. A hen flew off the roost & landed about 80 yards below us, I didn't wanna call because I knew how Tlips would act if I did. I made a cluck to try n get the hen closer to us, but ol Tlips freaked out like he always did & flew down in the logging road above us & as soon as he hit the ground he ran full speed down that logging road goin off our property, gobblin every breath. I guess the guy that came in on the adjacent property heard him gobblin comin down the road & probably just sat down on the side of the road. I heard a shot & I never heard Thunderlips gobble again. Dang crazy turkey!
The next year he was gobblin good one mornin on the backside of the property. My wife & I slipped in about 100 yards below him. There was an old logging road that went off of our property & went onto the next property. I had heard a truck pull in on the adjacent property before daylight. A hen flew off the roost & landed about 80 yards below us, I didn't wanna call because I knew how Tlips would act if I did. I made a cluck to try n get the hen closer to us, but ol Tlips freaked out like he always did & flew down in the logging road above us & as soon as he hit the ground he ran full speed down that logging road goin off our property, gobblin every breath. I guess the guy that came in on the adjacent property heard him gobblin comin down the road & probably just sat down on the side of the road. I heard a shot & I never heard Thunderlips gobble again. Dang crazy turkey!
kdxdude
Well-Known Member
Tightlip Tom is what I named him. Great big ol mtn. turkey. Walked up on him in a huge windstorm. Hunted him 4 years & never heard him gobble the first time. Saw him several times but never within gun range. Had him real close one evening, came in straight behind me spittin n drummin. Heard him fly up on the roost. Called into work sick the next day & went & set-up right above him on the ridge. Never heard him gobble, fly down or walkin. Have no idea where he went, decided he was a ghost & decided to find some more fun birds to hunt.
BigJohnson
Well-Known Member
It ain't the one that got a way but I had one black hen that would stop all the toms from coming near me for 2 years. I would call them in and get them right on the edge of shooting distance and it didn't matter if I had a decoy or not out she would run in front of them and run them all back out away from me. I hope a yote got that bird this year. My father-in-law and me named her The B@&%!
7mminatree
Well-Known Member
Ah yes the dominant hen, I have ran into a few those gals before, they will definetly throw a wrench into a good hunt!BigJohnson said:
The one that eats at me, 15 years later, was an old West Vaco bird. My buddy and I waited til everyone got fed up and went home, so we slipped in on his strut zone at around 3:30 one afternoon. We never called going in and moved about as slow as a man can possibly move. As soon as I crumbled a couple of leaves while i was sitting down, here he comes full blast, gobblin his head off. The last time I saw him, he was at 60 yds coming straight in. The only thing seperating us for a clear shot was a big Beech tree. He got behind that tree and i have yet to see or him to this day. Sumbeech...some turkeys are just plain evil
