Iowabowtech
Active Member
It was a gorgeous morning aside from the 4:15 am wake up call from my alarm. I could see it was going to be light out with the half moon still shining bright but caught a serious break upon arrival when a line of clouds came in and blocked the moon long enough for me to get settled. Good thing too since I had some birds pegged to this area and the only way to hunt them well is to get in close. So I arrived just after 5 and was completely set up in the Double Bull and sipping coffee by 5:15. Not a lot for gobbling this morning but a couple rang out in the piece I was set up on. Once they hit the ground, gobble time was over and it led me to believe they'd flown across the creek and headed the other way. In fact, the only thing that kept me there was laziness really. I thought about moving a couple times and just decided to sit it out. After about 2 hours of silence other than my continued calling, I spotted a fan, then another, then a third. One of them definitely spotted the Pretty Boy but wouldn't commit to crossing a small creek to get to me. Turned out to be about 7 or 8 hens with them also and they were NOT wanting to leave them. I called these birds for an entire hour, fairly agressively I might add, with them in view the entire time and nothing doing. All 3 toms were strutting almost non-stop. I tried shutting up and soft calling... nope and nada. Finally, 2 hens broke from the pack and headed away. Soon after the rest of the pack followed. Now they were right of me about 100 yards and out in the open. I threw everything but the kitchen sink at them as they were still moving away. Clucks, purrs, yelps, gobbles, double gobbles, the works. It was almost like I was twisting their arm but finally, the fellas couldn't take it anymore and being all tough, they turned tail and headed toward me as a threesome in route to an OK Corral style ass kickin. They all 3 came in almost the whole way in full strut and I was able to see they were all nice birds. I decided to take the lead tom and at 12 yards out and 2 yards shy of the decoy, I let the Hammerhead fly. As he was doing what I THOUGHT to be the death flap, I reloaded another arrow. When I look up, he's moving into the timber and I can't get a follow-up shot but the other two are standing at 25 yds so I let one have it. This one didn't go far at all but was still alive. The 3rd tom was STILL THERE after this melee and proceeded to peck away at the head of the mortally wounded gobbler I'd just shot. So long story not even close to short, I didn't find the first bird after an hour long search. Seemed like a great shot, quartering to and right in the sweetspot but not meant to be. I had an absolute blast anyway and am tickled I was fortunate enough to harvest even one of these great birds and more importantly, enjoy an incredible day afield I won't soon forget. Can't say as though I've ever worked so hard for a bird as I did today in terms of calling. Sorry so long on the story.
Specs:
19.5#
1 1/16" both spurs
10" beard
Specs:
19.5#
1 1/16" both spurs
10" beard