Double with Dad

[elnor]

This Eastern is my entry for Team Turkey Takers (#21) in this year's Realtree turkey contest:
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* Killed 8 April 2006 8:15AM in southeastern Oklahoma
* 19 pounds, 8 1/4 inch beard
* 13/16 inch right spur, 7/8 inch left spur
* NWTF score: 52.375
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Click here to access the contest entry post and pictures or read the full story and see additional pictures below.

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This year's turkey season was my first in almost
twenty years. After such a big gap, I knew I needed
to spend some time getting back into turkey calling
shape, patterning my shotgun, sorting out my gear
to fill in any gaps (calls, turkey vest, etc.) and
doing a number of other things to make certain I was
ready. I started working on all of this in January
and was as ready as I felt I could be on Oklahoma's
opening day, Thursday 6 April 2006.

I called in a lone hen early opening morning, then met
up with my father who had killed a jake after it
ran in in response to a single series of yelps. Dad
said he had seen two gobblers strutting for several hens
in a nearby field that is Strut Central on our family's
land in southeastern Oklahoma.

We decided to go after them, but after working through
heavy creek bottom brush and briars for a quarter mile
or so, we couldn't figure out any way to get closer.
The birds didn't work their way towards us as we had
hoped, instead staying in the middle of the field as
they meandered slowly away from us. After a little
debate we decided to try calling from the ridge they
seemd to be heading to, but after a couple of hours
of calling and careful repositioning to scan the
now empty field, we headed back to the house.

I was determined to be hidden in a group of trees near
the middle of the field the next morning. I wanted to be
as close to where they had strutted the day before as
possible. Day two of the season dawned with me about
ten yards inside the edge of an acre or two of trees. At
first light, a lone hen worked its way across the field
from right to left.

As the hen reached mid-field, yesterday's pair of strutters
entered about 300 yards to my left and moved to the center
while strutting for their hens. They strutted for close to
an hour but never came closer than 80-100 yards and were
always screened by a small wall of briar-choked trees.

Other gobblers came close but not close enough: A pair
from the east veered off course about 80 yards out, and
four birds approached me quietly from behind but putted
and ran for cover at the instant I saw them.

At the end of day two, I had had turkeys all around me
but no shot. I was determined to get a shot at one of
the strutters the next day. I spent a couple of hours
setting up a low blind, cutting shooting lanes, and
measuring distance on the northwest corner of the tree
island. If the gobblers strutted tomorrow where they
had today, I would have a good chance at calling one in.

Day three dawned overcast but the terribly gusty winds of
the last two days had finally died down some. Problem
was, only one of the strutters showed up that morning.
With six hens to convince, he refused to close the distance.
Hens in hand were definitely better than one hidden in
camo in the bush. He strutted and gobbled and strutted
some more. Everytime I cut on my box, he turned to strut for
my hen decoy and issued another booming response. Mouth
call yelps and slate call clucks and purrs both demanded more
gobbling, which he delivered. He was fired up and must have
gobbled thirty times, but he stuck with his hens as they
moved across to the middle of the field, down in a low spot
beyond my vision.

And then, from my father's position about 150 yards west
of me near the entrance to an old seismograph road into
the creek bottom, Dad shot. I knew he didn't often miss
and so expected he had a bird, but I couldn't see him or
any turkeys because of some intervening brush and trees.
I decided to make a lost hen call so that hopefully
"my birds" would stay where they were in the middle of
the field.

It worked. They stayed. I couldn't see them, but I
knew they were there because I could hear the Strutter
still gobbling his head off. Dad and I later estimated
he strutted and gobbled for close to an hour and a half
before the hens finally moved off the field to the east,
and him with them.

I'd been patient and restrained myself from calling
too much during the encounter because I wanted him to
be curious and to come and check out the hen he'd been
hearing for a while. I also had a jake decoy out to
tick him off. Hopefully once the hens were done with
him he'd come over to check out the aloof lady and the
little boy trying to be a man.

As Strutter's hens left the field, I heard him gobble
and hoped he'd double back shortly to check the dekes.
Almost immediately, a gobble! And much closer and
headed my way from the sound of it! My gun came up
and I steadied it towards the dekes (jake twenty
yards out, hen twenty-five).

Then as the plan all came together, there Strutter
was, running in from my right just as I'd hoped. He
made a beeline for the jake decoy, but veered off to
slowly loop around the hen deke as if to say "Don't
worry, baby, I'm here". Then back to the jake and a
staredown ensued. Strutter stood beside the deke and
stretched out his neck, glaring sideways from his
right eye, to prove he was the bigger bird. Then he
moved behind the deke, then back beside again to
stretch up his head another time and make sure little
jake understood the situation.

When he came back behind the jake decoy for a second
time, I killed him at twenty yards. He weighed in at
19 pounds with a 8 1/4 inch beard, 13/16 inch right
spur, and 7/8 inch left spur. All my planning for the
last three months and patience in the field for the last
three days paid off!

It turns out that my father had also killed a nice
bird, too. His weighed 22 pounds with a 10 inch beard,
one 7/8 inch spur, and the other spur broken off
near the base. Both his and my birds' wing feathers
were severely worn at the tips from all of the displaying
they'd been doing for the hens. Two mature, magnificent
birds taken less than an hour and 150 yards apart, and
with each of us able to enjoy the other's success at
close range. Not a bad morning of hunting!

Unfortunately my father wasn't signed up for the Realtree Forums contest,
nor was my uncle who shot Dad's tom's brother the next
day. But that's another story for another time, and
it's a dandy too!

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A close-up of my bird:



My father and I with both our Easterns:

[M00N]

Congratulations!

[dartonman]

Congrads, great pics, and story.....quite the exciting season for you I would have to venture to say...al

[BowtechTurkeyHunter]

Wow great turkeys ... Great story ... Thanks for sharing ...

Steve

[HuntnMa]

that is just the coolest thing....congrats to the both of you.....

[drkillemquick]

great story, congrats to both of you!

[mo_hunter]

congrats. awesome hunt

[hoyt_hunter]

congratulations!

[borch]

Wow!!! What a hunt to get back into turkey hunting again!

Congrats to your who hunting party with their success.

[wtnhunt]

Great pics. Nice birds. Congratulations to you and your father.

[vagobbln]

I'm envious. My dad doesn't turkey hunt much, but I've been trying to get him one the last couple of years. No luck yet. Congratulations.

[huntn4bucks]

Congrats to you both. Enjoyed the story and great pics. Nice job.

[Jeramie]

Very well done! Congratulations!

[Rhino]

Congrats on the sack of birds y'all bagged so far. Great pics too.

[arrow32]

Congrats! Good looking birds.