Echo
Gone But Not Forgotten
Unlike most of the Palmetto state, the public land turkey hunts do not get underway until April 1st of each year and thus that date has become a can't miss day for me to be in the turkey woods.
As luck would have it no one was parked at the gated road where I started last season's effort so I quickly pulled in and set out towards the big swamp at the end of the road where a big gobbler had answered the call and just barely avoided taking fire on the previous opener. Dawn approached and I was excited to hear a good chorus of owls lighting up the woods as my Georgia mornings this season had been met with mostly silence from both owls and turkeys - in fact I had yet to hear a gobbler from the roost. That streak was about to end however as I heard two gobblers sound off within striking distance!
I chose the one to my immediate front and quietly picked my way through a recent timber thinning and into the open bottomland below. Wrong choice. That bird flew down away from me and only gave me a couple of courtesy gobbles as he moved farther away. In the meantime the other bird had hushed as well and I suspected both already had company for the morning so the decision was made to return to the truck and try to find some more cooperative minded birds. I would later regret not sticking with those birds longer as I walked and prospected until noon with hearing another peep but did find a good deal of sign as well a couple of fresh sheds along the way.
Around 2 PM I had just entered a fresh burn when my second yelp was hammered by a nearby tom. Only problem was I knew there was a decent sized creek in between us so I decided to push the issue and at least get within sight of the creek bank. Well, another chance lost as I had apparently underestimated the distance between us and figured I bumped him as he never showed or gobbled again. That stung a bit as one never wants to bump a 2 pm gobbling turkey!
I swore if I was to hear another that day I would plant myself right where I happened to be and wait it out. To that end the decision was made to go back to the big swamp where I had heard the two morning birds. It was pushing 3:30 now and if was to kill a bird it would be the latest in the day that I had ever done so.
I knew the place that I had in mind was going to be challenging to say the least to find a good set up in due to open standing water on one side and a higher but thick ridge on the other. Directly in front was sort of a mix of the two. I pulled out the only new pot call that I had bought before the season and began a series of clucks and yelping. I had hoped by doing so that I would at least gain the attention of any toms still in the area. Three series of yelps brought nothing other than my own approval of the way the new call had echoed through the mysterious looking swamp. I was midway through the fourth attempt and it was though a gobble grenade had blown up directly in front of me!
Well, I had no choice but to sit down and get my gun up right where I stood this time. A minute went by with no sound or movement before he gobbled again this time farther out (maybe 80-90 yards) and I took a deep breath and opted to move to a little better tree a couple of yards away. I purred and clucked on the slate and he jumped it hard - he was hot! My cheek is firmly glued to the stock now and I'm fervently searching for movement as judging by his last gobble he has moved back to his original position on the thick ridge to my right.
Then suddenly there he is! He's cleared the thick undergrowth, walked across a watery lane and is now peering directly towards me from some 35 yards or so - head up! I had to move my barrel a few degrees left and I did so as slowly as possible before the red dot lined up just below his wattles and I squeezed the trigger. The resounding BOOM was followed by the awesome sounds of a flopping turkey as the swarm of Heavyweight 7's had solidly found their mark.
At the check station the scale revealed what I already knew - that he was likely one of the heaviest birds that I had ever shot weighing in at 20.5 lbs. The beard and spurs were not real special at 7.5 and 1'' long but he was certainly a trophy in my mind. Plus at 4 PM I had finally killed a sure-enough afternoon gobbler.
Here's what he looked like...
As luck would have it no one was parked at the gated road where I started last season's effort so I quickly pulled in and set out towards the big swamp at the end of the road where a big gobbler had answered the call and just barely avoided taking fire on the previous opener. Dawn approached and I was excited to hear a good chorus of owls lighting up the woods as my Georgia mornings this season had been met with mostly silence from both owls and turkeys - in fact I had yet to hear a gobbler from the roost. That streak was about to end however as I heard two gobblers sound off within striking distance!
I chose the one to my immediate front and quietly picked my way through a recent timber thinning and into the open bottomland below. Wrong choice. That bird flew down away from me and only gave me a couple of courtesy gobbles as he moved farther away. In the meantime the other bird had hushed as well and I suspected both already had company for the morning so the decision was made to return to the truck and try to find some more cooperative minded birds. I would later regret not sticking with those birds longer as I walked and prospected until noon with hearing another peep but did find a good deal of sign as well a couple of fresh sheds along the way.
Around 2 PM I had just entered a fresh burn when my second yelp was hammered by a nearby tom. Only problem was I knew there was a decent sized creek in between us so I decided to push the issue and at least get within sight of the creek bank. Well, another chance lost as I had apparently underestimated the distance between us and figured I bumped him as he never showed or gobbled again. That stung a bit as one never wants to bump a 2 pm gobbling turkey!
I swore if I was to hear another that day I would plant myself right where I happened to be and wait it out. To that end the decision was made to go back to the big swamp where I had heard the two morning birds. It was pushing 3:30 now and if was to kill a bird it would be the latest in the day that I had ever done so.
I knew the place that I had in mind was going to be challenging to say the least to find a good set up in due to open standing water on one side and a higher but thick ridge on the other. Directly in front was sort of a mix of the two. I pulled out the only new pot call that I had bought before the season and began a series of clucks and yelping. I had hoped by doing so that I would at least gain the attention of any toms still in the area. Three series of yelps brought nothing other than my own approval of the way the new call had echoed through the mysterious looking swamp. I was midway through the fourth attempt and it was though a gobble grenade had blown up directly in front of me!
Well, I had no choice but to sit down and get my gun up right where I stood this time. A minute went by with no sound or movement before he gobbled again this time farther out (maybe 80-90 yards) and I took a deep breath and opted to move to a little better tree a couple of yards away. I purred and clucked on the slate and he jumped it hard - he was hot! My cheek is firmly glued to the stock now and I'm fervently searching for movement as judging by his last gobble he has moved back to his original position on the thick ridge to my right.
Then suddenly there he is! He's cleared the thick undergrowth, walked across a watery lane and is now peering directly towards me from some 35 yards or so - head up! I had to move my barrel a few degrees left and I did so as slowly as possible before the red dot lined up just below his wattles and I squeezed the trigger. The resounding BOOM was followed by the awesome sounds of a flopping turkey as the swarm of Heavyweight 7's had solidly found their mark.
At the check station the scale revealed what I already knew - that he was likely one of the heaviest birds that I had ever shot weighing in at 20.5 lbs. The beard and spurs were not real special at 7.5 and 1'' long but he was certainly a trophy in my mind. Plus at 4 PM I had finally killed a sure-enough afternoon gobbler.
Here's what he looked like...
