blake
Life Member
Last Saturday my son Ryan (Songdog) and I headed out for a day of turkey hunting. We were in the woods set up on a ridge about fifty yards apart well before daylight. The morning was beautiful, no breeze, an ideal morning for calling. I have hunted this particular spot for several years and I knew the turkey’s movement patterns well, or so I thought.
The tom’s started gobbling at 5:45 a.m. Much to my surprise however, none of the toms were anywhere close to us. They all seemed to be roosting 300-400 yards West and North of our position. I was starting to curse myself for not putting them to bed on Friday evening.
I started calling with some soft tree yelps and clucks hoping that there was a “silent gobbler” that was still sleeping close to us. After a few series of calls and no response I started calling a little louder. I about fell off of my Double Bull Chair when some hens started calling from the tree directly in front of us at 40-50 yards.
Now I am not the sharpest tack in the box, but I did know that I was not going to call anymore. We had the real thing right in front of us doing the calling. I did start too worried when the hens flew down and started slowly moving towards the gobbling.
Suddenly a tom let out a gobble from behind Ryan, and he was close. He had apparently crossed an open pasture to come to the hen calls. Ryan was facing the timber and had to turn 180 degrees for a shot. As he moved ever so slowly the hens spotted his movement as they were within 15 yards of him. They didn’t seem overly alarmed and they then move back into the timber. I knew we were in business.
As tom came to the edge of the clearing, he let out one last gobble and dropped in his tracks at Ryan’s shot.
After several minutes of talking about the hunt and taking several photos we decided to move to another spot and Ryan would do some calling for me. As we were leaving we spotted another tom about 200 yards North of where we just harvested Ryan’s bird. I was amazed that this tom had not heard the gunshot and spooked.
We moved closer to this second tom and here are the results, 45 minutes apart……..sometimes things just work out perfect.
<font color="green">blake</font>
rwyllie@iowawhitetail.com
The tom’s started gobbling at 5:45 a.m. Much to my surprise however, none of the toms were anywhere close to us. They all seemed to be roosting 300-400 yards West and North of our position. I was starting to curse myself for not putting them to bed on Friday evening.
I started calling with some soft tree yelps and clucks hoping that there was a “silent gobbler” that was still sleeping close to us. After a few series of calls and no response I started calling a little louder. I about fell off of my Double Bull Chair when some hens started calling from the tree directly in front of us at 40-50 yards.
Now I am not the sharpest tack in the box, but I did know that I was not going to call anymore. We had the real thing right in front of us doing the calling. I did start too worried when the hens flew down and started slowly moving towards the gobbling.
Suddenly a tom let out a gobble from behind Ryan, and he was close. He had apparently crossed an open pasture to come to the hen calls. Ryan was facing the timber and had to turn 180 degrees for a shot. As he moved ever so slowly the hens spotted his movement as they were within 15 yards of him. They didn’t seem overly alarmed and they then move back into the timber. I knew we were in business.
As tom came to the edge of the clearing, he let out one last gobble and dropped in his tracks at Ryan’s shot.
After several minutes of talking about the hunt and taking several photos we decided to move to another spot and Ryan would do some calling for me. As we were leaving we spotted another tom about 200 yards North of where we just harvested Ryan’s bird. I was amazed that this tom had not heard the gunshot and spooked.
We moved closer to this second tom and here are the results, 45 minutes apart……..sometimes things just work out perfect.
<font color="green">blake</font>
rwyllie@iowawhitetail.com
