I guess my circadiuan rythym must make its adjustments to the seasons. I awoke at 2:51 AM this morning to get ready to hunt the big birds. I donned my permethrin treated apparel and headed out the door. Soon dad and I were off to the same spot where we shot the 200 lb gobbler last Saturday.
It was quite chilly this morning.I want to say that it was about 38 degrees or so. At least the mosquitoes wouldn't bother us.
We parked in the dark at the edge of the pasture and proceeded to the spot. I set up Gretchen, our turkey decoy, and dad set up the blind on the big pine stump.
We sat and waited. It was about 5:05 when I heard a gobble behind us. I waited until 5:15 to let out some loud yelps. Another gobble. I would respond about every 15 minutes or so with some yelps. This gobbler would gobble at geese flying overhead, crows as well as what I was able to pass off as a hen.
It was a good hour before we heard a loud gobble. My blood ran in anticipation of the bird coming into view. Soon enough, a little more than an hour later, he emerged in the corner of a pasture. He was strutting and drumming.
All along I would sort of give my sign languages to Dad. He worked with sheet metal for over 40 years and lost most of his hearing due to the noise of hydralic presses and the like. In his day, no one wore ear protection and all now suffer from it. I was actually praying that he would get the shot. The birds were on his side and it appeared as if they'd come down the logging road between the fields. But they came out to the corner.
For a good half hour the gobbler strutted and drummed. There were five hens with him. They sort of ignored his ostentatious display of gobblerhood and fed along the edge of the field and road.
Then it seemed that they disappeared. It turns out that the five hens were about to cross in the opening of the old stone wall right in front of us. We hoped that the gobbler would soon follow. But something happened. The hen stopped right there and looked at our decoy. The feathers on her neck puffed up a bit, then she turned around and the rest of the girls went back into the field. They crossed in front of us. Dad and I still had hopes that the big boy would come into shotgun range. We guess he was a good 50 yards out. I know there are some who'll state with the right load, etc.. but I don't want to would anything. I limit the shots to about 35 to 40 yards.
Then the hens went back across from where the came from and all the birds went back into the massive white pine grove. Thus ended the day.
We had a great morning. We both were sort of laughing to ourselves as to how we were outsmarted by the bird. But that is the way the hunt will go at times.
Friday morning, we will set up a tad closer to that corner they so like. Watch as they come to the field behind us where we were before.
