Sorry for the sparse posting here in the last few days. Friday morning I chased turkeys with little action. I closed within about 80 yards of a tom but he had no interest in me and I couldn’t get any closer. Eventually we parted ways. It was blowing like crazy and the turkeys were quiet and hunkered down in the trees.
On the way home I swung by a public wildlife area that I thought might hold a few fish that could be stuck from the shore. I found a tributary of the local river that was absolutely full of carp, gar and buffalo. Unfortunately I was due in court so I had to file the spot away for later.
Friday night The Wife and I drove to Springfield, Missouri to chase redneck turkeys around for a couple of days. Saturday morning I did almost everything possible to screw up a turkey hunt. I set up tight on a tom only to let him fly down behind me. He was too close for me to turn around without blowing him out, so I sat tight until he wandered off. While waiting another tom flew down 200 yards in front of me all by himself. Money right? Oh no. He’s strutting back and forth on top of a hill so I hit him with some soft yelps. He starts heading my way but the fly-down tom and another tom farther behind me fire off. Plus a fourth tom is closing fast from my right. As I’m drawing a bead on the turkey in front the others have joined up behind me and start raising hell. The poor tom in front of me wants nothing to do with them and drifts off never giving me a shot. Once again I can’t get turned around and they eventually drift off as well. I tried to get reset in front of the group of toms but it didn’t work. So I picked up and hoofed it several hundred yards to a smaller field where I figured the single tom would eventually end up. Two jakes showed up, but no tom. That is, until I had to quit. Of course he was 35 yards behind me in the woods, coming in silent, when I stood up. I’d had 4 toms in range, at least one had been in range twice, and I never fired a shot! Apparently I’d become the worst turkey hunter, ever.
This morning started slow. Two toms that I tried to work at fly-down had no interest in me and my fake hens… I picked up and headed in the direction of most of the gobbling only to run into a tresspasser who occupied my next few minutes. Eventually I got set up and did a bit of calling. I was down to about 20 minutes of hunting time left when The Old Man called wanting to trade turkey reports for a crappie breakdown. While I was talking softly to him I could see black shapes working their way through the tall grass a ways off. I hung up the phone quickly and yelped a bit more. 5 minutes later 3 toms came over the hill 45 yards in front of me. I took some time to savor the show.
He was a 2 year old bird with a thinish 10 1/2″ beard.
