Season finally arrived to Tennessee on Saturday.
I finally got back to the station to meet my relief at 01:00 am, not much time for sleep. I ran home and gathered all my hunting stuff and loaded the truck. With the truck packed and double checked for anything left behind I headed out for the farm. One of the other guys in the club was already there asleep in the recliner. I to was able to get a short nap in before other hunters began to arrive.
The weather outlook for the day was not encouraging, rain through the night and to continue in to the next day. Fortunately about day break the storm front moved through and the remaining showers were expected to pass to the south of us. My next concern had to do with the cold front that had moved in to the area. Past experiences have showed me that nothing gives the birds a case of lockjaw like a dropping barometer and a cold front.
With a thin sliver of gold on the horizon I wished the others good luck and headed for my blind. I had been given a word of encouragement by one of the others who had done some preseason scouting in my area and had located my blind. From my blind you can see a small field thats bordered by woods on three sides. This is an ideal strut zone for gobbling turkeys. Kendall had been walking the ridge line blowing a crow call and looking for fresh scratching when he heard a gobble come from the field. he slipped silently into the blind and watched the field. According to him there were three " good birds " out there gobbling, fanning and sparring. He stayed and watched the birds till they slipped off into the adjacent woods. He confided he wished he'd had chosen that area for opening weekend, " I bet you do " I chuckled.
Under a cover of darkness I slipped into the blind and made myself comfortable. A little too comfortable. With the previous nights sleep that was better measured in minutes than hours I was soon dozing. I must have walked in under the birds in the morning darkness because I never knew they were there till they sounded off. Two mature gobbles not fifty yards away. " Oh, this is gonna be too easy, " I thought. Well like they say " roosted ain't roasted " I slipped a slate call out of my vest pocket and gave some soft clucks and tree yelps. Then I heard them, Hens, and they were everywhere. They became a little more vocal and so did the gobblers. Pretty soon they were all on the ground and moving away from me. I just held my ground and stayed put. In the distance on the adjacent property I could hear other turkeys but they were a longgggg way away. I gave the loudest series of yelps that I could and waited. At one time I thought I could hear a gobbler responding but couldn't be for sure. Just in case I again called at the top of my lungs. I closed my eyes and just waited while dozing. About every fifteen minutes or so I would wake up and give a series of yelps and cutts. It must have been working because pretty soon something had heard me and was coming in cause the gobbles were definitely getting closer and more distinct. My right foot was killing me. My leg had fallen asleep and my foot was screaming for relief. " Just one more gobble, show me were you're at and I'll move my leg if I can get away with it. " About three minutes passed and I heard the gobbler again. He sounded about 150-200yds away. " It's safe, I can do it " and I shifted my weight to my left and straightened my leg slightly. At the same time the blood was returning to my right lower extremity I caught sight of movement in the cedars about 75 yards away. " Turkey" my mind screamed, " and in full strut". Where the hell did he come? How long has he been standing there? Did he see me move? Now what? All these things raced through my mind. Meanwhile the turkey is standing out there blown up like a bumble bee doing little semi circles and zigg zagging back in forth through the cedars. " Well he doesn't appear alarmed, maybe he didn't see me move after all " I thought. Then the other turkey gobbled still about 150yds away. The one in front of me broke strut and started to appear somewhat nervous. " Oh great, a subordinate bird. " Probably a jake" I thought. Then he took a few steps and I could see his beard. "That ain't a jake" Ok lets see if we can get him to come just a little closer. With a diaphragm I tried to impersonate a shy, timid, non threatening hen. I let loose with the softest purrs and clucks that I could muster. It must have been what was needed cause the bird was now headed in my direction. If he had planned on sneaking in and stealing the boss's hen he had figured on being quick and quiet about it.
He looked like a child's toy on a pull string. He came in at a fast walk and in a straight line right at me. New problem. When I shifted my weight I had moved my gun. Instead of facing in the direction the bird was coming from the gun was now facing 90 degrees the wrong way. " Ok, no big thing let him pass behind a tree and reposition " No chance, the bird's moving to fast and the trees aren't big enough. The one tree that is big enough the bird passes in front of instead of behind. "Well, lets let him come as close as he will. At 8 yards the turkey stops and is looking right at me or the gun rather. " This 870 is sticking out like a sore thumb." Note to self, invest in some camo tape when this is over with. The turkey just stands there eyeballing me for what seemed like forever (closer to a full minute) Then the other bird gobbles from about 100 yds away. This was the decision maker. The bird in front of me didn't know what I was but he definitely knew who that was only a 100 yds away. Not wanting to be caught in the " man of the house's bedroom " and be subjected to a butt whippin'' He turned and headed down the slope he just came up. I had to make a move or the bird was gonna get away. Scanning ahead, I saw the bird was gonna pass behind the large yellow poplar tree. The same tree I needed him to walk behind in the first place and the only tree large enough to allow me to move the gun the necessary two and half feet. As soon as the birds head went behind the tree I made my move and swung the gun barrel into the opening just in front of the poplar tree. I don't remember putting the scopes red dot on the birds head but I must have because in one very fluid motion I swung the gun, aligned the dot on the back side of the birds head and fired sending him to the big strut zone in the sky.
My bird was beautiful with not a feather out of place. His 10 1/8" beard was wet at the end from crossing the field giving it the appearance of an artists brush dipped in black paint. The spurs looked as they had been carved from the darkest ebony turning upward. Length was 1 1/8" and 1 1/4" with the bird weighing in at 21lbs and 9ozs.
Yes, I know I killed a subordinate bird with a dominate bird only 100yds away but to quote Ronnie "Cuz" Strickland, " Why in the hell wouldn't you want to shoot a longbeard?"
Not my biggest bird but still not a bad way to open the season.
Hope you enjoyed. :-D
"Frog"
