Before my son and I were afforded the opportunities we have now, we strictly hunted public land. Mainly our closest WMA. We often exchanged information when we didn’t hunt together and that leads to this hunt.
My son had “positively” roosted a gobbler one evening and couldn’t take off work the next day and told me to go get him. So the next morning had me set up in this little clearing with a DSD out, waiting on daybreak and that first gobble. Well, the first gobble was back near where I parked the truck and walked in. I sat right where I was waiting for “my” bird. While waiting this other bird was having a contest with himself to see how many gobbles per minute he could let out. I’m not the smartest, as this story will show, but I knew a gobbling bird was a killable bird and I wasted no time getting back to the truck to drop inessentials off and go after the bird that wouldn’t shut up. Had this been the weekend there would have been 15 other hunters on him by the time I started my approach. Thank God it was a week day!
I left the truck, marked where I thought he was on the map and beat feet to him. Once close I would stop and move 10 yards at a time everytime he would gobble. I finally got to within 100 yards and found a tree to make the kill. I called, he gobbled. I’d wait and say nothing and he’d gobble. A crow would caw and he’d gobble. I called again and he’d gobble. He was moving laterally back and forth but not to me. I got up and kept easing forward until I realized he was on the other side of the flowing swamp water. I pulled up the map and realized he “must” be in a little clearing on the other side of this little swamp.
So, I get up and ease out and take off at a fast jog around the swamp. I get to the other side and start easing to the clearing. No bird, and his gobbling has quieted down. I made my way to the clearing and set up and prayed I hadn’t spooked him. My first yelp produced a double gobble and a yelp from a hen! The only problem was the gobble came from the other side of the swamp where I had just ran from!! The good news was the hen was on my side and not one bit happy about another hen trying to get her man. With the gobbler on the other side I concentrated on the hen and eventually had her where I was between her and the gobbler. As soon as I was sure I could flush her away from him I stood up and did just that.
It worked. It was now just me and him again. So I start easing in from the clearing and he goes back to trying to break his previous record set earlier. Now mind you, I’m not the best caller, so I text a buddy and explained what was going on and his response was, “Get your fat tail back around to the other side!” So I did.
Ok, so now I’m back where I started. Ole boy has shut up and I slowly ease my way in to the waters edge but still haven’t heard him or made a call. I find another killing tree and settle down, again praying I haven’t spooked him. I made a call and immediately get a gobble...yeah, you guessed it, from the other side where I had just come from!!! I scratch the leaves and the gobble gets closer.
Finally I see my bird about 60 yards away strutting on the other side! This joker gobbles and struts back and forth for 30+ minutes and I don’t make a sound. Finally he starts moving on down the waters edge away from me still gobbling. I then decide I’m tired of running so I’ll just walk across the water and set up on the other side and call him back to me. I wear knee high snake boots and figure the water can’t be that high if he’s somehow crossing back and forth.
He’s now out of sight and quit gobbling. I start my approach, so far so good. Got a good 3” from the top of the boot. I’m easing along while keeping an eye out the direction he went. I get about half way across and only God knows why we do stupid stuff, but I called to see where he was. Big, big mistake!!! He gobbles and by the third gobble I can tell he’s coming back and in a hurry! Now remember I’m half way across and now the water is less than an inch from the top on the boots. There’s a Cypress 10 yards in front of me and I make three large quiet steps to it and realize that it’s deeper! Now water is over my boots and cold, and the gobbler is now in sight running my way. He’d run, then stop and gobble, then go in strut for a few seconds, then run again!
I pick out a spot that’s open where he’ll cross and plan on shooting him right there! I get the gun up and he RUNS through that opening and stops behind a big ole Cypress in strut. For 15 minutes he struts and gobbles behind that Cypress and never presented a shot. Meanwhile my feet are going numb, I’m starting to shiver, and running out of options. I peek around my tree and there’s another tree about 7 short yards away that if I can get to it I’ll have a shot.
The only way I could move was to wait for him to strut to my right behind the tree. Everytime he would move right I would take a few small steps towards my newly picked killing tree. It probably didn’t take more than a few minutes, but when your feet are burning from the cold and you’re teeth are chattering it seemed a lot longer.
I finally made it to my tree and got the gun up. As soon as he got to his pivoting point to the right I clucked and he stretched out his neck to look around the tree and I let the 20ga eat!
Talk about a rush! Already shaking from the cold water and that shot of adrenaline all at the same time and I had to sit down once I reached dry ground. The hunt lasted almost 3 hours and I was rewarded with a nice three year old. 1.25” spurs and a solid 10” beard. Took my boots off, wrung out my socks, found some nice dry ground and sat for a while with the gobbler in my lap thanking God for creating such an amazing creature.
My son had “positively” roosted a gobbler one evening and couldn’t take off work the next day and told me to go get him. So the next morning had me set up in this little clearing with a DSD out, waiting on daybreak and that first gobble. Well, the first gobble was back near where I parked the truck and walked in. I sat right where I was waiting for “my” bird. While waiting this other bird was having a contest with himself to see how many gobbles per minute he could let out. I’m not the smartest, as this story will show, but I knew a gobbling bird was a killable bird and I wasted no time getting back to the truck to drop inessentials off and go after the bird that wouldn’t shut up. Had this been the weekend there would have been 15 other hunters on him by the time I started my approach. Thank God it was a week day!
I left the truck, marked where I thought he was on the map and beat feet to him. Once close I would stop and move 10 yards at a time everytime he would gobble. I finally got to within 100 yards and found a tree to make the kill. I called, he gobbled. I’d wait and say nothing and he’d gobble. A crow would caw and he’d gobble. I called again and he’d gobble. He was moving laterally back and forth but not to me. I got up and kept easing forward until I realized he was on the other side of the flowing swamp water. I pulled up the map and realized he “must” be in a little clearing on the other side of this little swamp.
So, I get up and ease out and take off at a fast jog around the swamp. I get to the other side and start easing to the clearing. No bird, and his gobbling has quieted down. I made my way to the clearing and set up and prayed I hadn’t spooked him. My first yelp produced a double gobble and a yelp from a hen! The only problem was the gobble came from the other side of the swamp where I had just ran from!! The good news was the hen was on my side and not one bit happy about another hen trying to get her man. With the gobbler on the other side I concentrated on the hen and eventually had her where I was between her and the gobbler. As soon as I was sure I could flush her away from him I stood up and did just that.
It worked. It was now just me and him again. So I start easing in from the clearing and he goes back to trying to break his previous record set earlier. Now mind you, I’m not the best caller, so I text a buddy and explained what was going on and his response was, “Get your fat tail back around to the other side!” So I did.
Ok, so now I’m back where I started. Ole boy has shut up and I slowly ease my way in to the waters edge but still haven’t heard him or made a call. I find another killing tree and settle down, again praying I haven’t spooked him. I made a call and immediately get a gobble...yeah, you guessed it, from the other side where I had just come from!!! I scratch the leaves and the gobble gets closer.
Finally I see my bird about 60 yards away strutting on the other side! This joker gobbles and struts back and forth for 30+ minutes and I don’t make a sound. Finally he starts moving on down the waters edge away from me still gobbling. I then decide I’m tired of running so I’ll just walk across the water and set up on the other side and call him back to me. I wear knee high snake boots and figure the water can’t be that high if he’s somehow crossing back and forth.
He’s now out of sight and quit gobbling. I start my approach, so far so good. Got a good 3” from the top of the boot. I’m easing along while keeping an eye out the direction he went. I get about half way across and only God knows why we do stupid stuff, but I called to see where he was. Big, big mistake!!! He gobbles and by the third gobble I can tell he’s coming back and in a hurry! Now remember I’m half way across and now the water is less than an inch from the top on the boots. There’s a Cypress 10 yards in front of me and I make three large quiet steps to it and realize that it’s deeper! Now water is over my boots and cold, and the gobbler is now in sight running my way. He’d run, then stop and gobble, then go in strut for a few seconds, then run again!
I pick out a spot that’s open where he’ll cross and plan on shooting him right there! I get the gun up and he RUNS through that opening and stops behind a big ole Cypress in strut. For 15 minutes he struts and gobbles behind that Cypress and never presented a shot. Meanwhile my feet are going numb, I’m starting to shiver, and running out of options. I peek around my tree and there’s another tree about 7 short yards away that if I can get to it I’ll have a shot.
The only way I could move was to wait for him to strut to my right behind the tree. Everytime he would move right I would take a few small steps towards my newly picked killing tree. It probably didn’t take more than a few minutes, but when your feet are burning from the cold and you’re teeth are chattering it seemed a lot longer.
I finally made it to my tree and got the gun up. As soon as he got to his pivoting point to the right I clucked and he stretched out his neck to look around the tree and I let the 20ga eat!
Talk about a rush! Already shaking from the cold water and that shot of adrenaline all at the same time and I had to sit down once I reached dry ground. The hunt lasted almost 3 hours and I was rewarded with a nice three year old. 1.25” spurs and a solid 10” beard. Took my boots off, wrung out my socks, found some nice dry ground and sat for a while with the gobbler in my lap thanking God for creating such an amazing creature.
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