Loder
Member
Dad and I rolled out Friday morn to make the 9 hour drive for our annual TX Rio chase and as luck would have it, my good buddy John(pullit) was going to be able to make the trip as well this year. I had to go to New Orleans for work Monday, so we only had two days to get it done. John flew in and rented a car, so he made it in before Dad and I showed up around 5:30 Friday eve. After unloading the truck we still had a few hours of daylight, so we decided to go do a bit of glassing at a few of the properties we were going to hunt. As we were rolling in to the spot Dad planned to hunt, we spotted a small flock out in a rye field about 300yds from where Dad intended to set up opening morn. We drove on in and picked out a good cedar for Dad to nestle in the next morn. Then we headed over to the field John was going to hunt and man, did we ever have a surprise. When we turned in to the property there was at least 80 birds on the rye!! That was sure a promising site, can’t say I’ve ever seen that many birds in one wad in all my years of turkey hunting. I had to rib John a bit later that night, told him if he didn’t kill a tom in that field, I was really going to start second guessing his abilities as a turkey hunter lol. After we got over the shock and awe of the massive flock at John’s spot, we headed over to the field I planned to hunt. We were treated to another beautiful site on that property as well as there were around 40 birds on the rye and several were puffed up in an attempt to impress the massive flock of ladies. It was looking good to say the least. We then rolled into town, ate some fine steaks, and schemed up a good plan for the next morn. I didn’t sleep much that night, anticipation of the hunt I suppose.
Saturday morn I dropped John and Dad off at their spots and then headed to the field I was to hunt. On the way in I heard some toms fire off in the dark, a beautiful sound! I got settled in against a massive cotton wood about 200yds from where some larger groups of trees were that I suspected would be the roost for the previous eve. As the horizon turned a slight shade of light blue, a sound echoed across the countryside that I’ll never forget. There were at least 100 toms firing off in every direction! I’ve heard some dandy Rio roost over the years, but don’t believe I’ve ever heard that many birds firing off in one area. There were probably 20 jakes and toms firing off on the property I was hunting, so it definitely seemed promising to say the least. That said, I also had a massive flock of hens to contend with, so I prepared for the battle. When the hens started talking, I talked back, but it seemed the toms were only gobbling at other toms or the hens around their roost. As light filled the valley, the hens became a bit more vocal, so I started pouring on a bit of sass and seemed to be drawing more attention from the boys. I could now see the birds across the field, they were in the trees I suspected just on the other side of a small patch of yellow grass. When the hens started to pitch down, I did a fly down and cackle, but the boys went silent. I was starting to think the massive flock of hens were going to give a good challenge, then all of the sudden I spotted movement in the yellow grass. Two birds emerged in a dead run twds me, but it was too dark to tell if they were jakes or toms. At around 50yds they both blew into strut and both had full fans, so off with the safety! When they hit 30, I settled the dot on the lead bird and when he stretched out his head, I mailed that dude some hevi shot! His buddy took off to the left at the shot, then spun around to check on his bud(a fatal mistake)
After I cracked bird #2, I spotted movement to my right and another tom had slipped in about 75yds out. When he turned to the right to leave, I could see a freaking massive rope swing around. Oh well, two toms down, maybe I’ll meet that big guy again next year.
Bird one sported a 9-3/4” beard, weighed in at 20lbs, and had 15/16” spurs. The second tom had beard rot, but had some strands that were 7-7/8” long. He weighed in at 19.25lbs and had 7/8” spurs. Couple of volunteering(or suicidal) two year olds:
Right after I killed the two toms, I got a text from John that he had 4 toms in range, but his Fast Fire was dead!! Cell service was limited in the area, but we finally got connected and he’d taken the sight off and planned to use the bead, but the action was dead after the big flock left out that morn. John said the massive flock of hens carried all the toms to the hills after fly down. He got 4 to peel off and come in range, but might as well just carried a camera. I drove to a couple of other spots to scout, but didn’t find much sign at either, so decided to head over to John and give him my SX2 since I’d brought my m500 20ga as back up. When I got over to John, he said things had been dead a while, so we decided to head over to Dad and see how his morning had went. Dad had already laid out two toms that morn. He said one came in around 8 and hung up on a fence. Shortly after two more came in to around 30 yds. He smooth missed twice and connected on the 3rd shot. He said the second tom ran off, then ran back to pounce on his flopping compadre. He dropped another shell in the chamber and ended that party! We decided to clean the 4 birds and head to town for a bite to eat.
Dads Saturday morning toms were also 2yos. One sported a 8-3/8” beard, 7/8” spurs, and weighed in at 16.25lbs. The second tom had a 9” beard, 15/16” spurs, and weighed in at 18-1/2 lbs:
After lunch we headed back out to the same spots we’d hunted that morn. When we dropped off dad, I decided to cut and a tom hammered a few hundred yards away. We all slipped into the timber and called for a while, but he never did budge, so John and I headed out to our spots for another try. I gave my SX2 to John as we couldn’t get his Fast Fire to work even after changing the battery. I finally got it to come on after working the switch about 10 times, but no sense in taking a gamble. Not to mention worrying about if it was even close to zero after the base being removed.
I decided to go out to the property I hunted that morn since there was so many gobbling at day break. I drove up to a high ridge to glass the distant fields and spotted a nice size flock right off the bat, but there was absolutely no cover to slip in close. I got to within 3-400yds and settled in. After calling for a while, I never got a response, so eased up to a ridge to glass. They were still there, so I went back down to the rye field and sat for a while with no luck. I figured they would roost in the same area as the night before, so decided to head to some other spots and see if I could strike a lonely tom. As I’m driving out, I decided to go back up to the high ridge and glass the field in the distance where the large flock was hanging out. I get up there and they are gone. I glassed all around the field and finally spotted some heads in the high grass, the whole flock was headed to the rye field I’d been sitting on! The chase was on at this point. I grabbed my gun and humped it around a hill for cover and just about the time I hit the edge of the field the turkeys had beat me to it, but they were a few hundred yards away and I had a big clump of oak brush between us, so I crawled to the near side and sat against a small tree. After things settled a bit, I glassed the flock and saw there were about 30 hens and 4 stud duck strutters doing the dance. I showered them with cuts, but didn’t get much attention. After a while, one of the strutters broke from the other 3 and danced out into the field. I hit him again and he headed my way. He’d strut a bit, then do the ole stretch and look. I finally convinced him there was a sweet heart waiting on him and he walked straight to me. I wanted to be a bit picky at this point, so I waited ‘til he got close and saw he had some good gear. Problem was, I waited a bit too long, Big Tom Fever had set in, I’m not going to lie about it. I smooth shanked the shot, missed that rascal clean. He sailed across the field and landed near the flock unharmed. Apparently the high wind that eve, the little crack of the 20, the distance to the flock, and me cutting like a mad hen after the wiffed shot was enough to convince the flock nothing was wrong because they all looked my direction for a bit, then started feeding again! I thought it was over at that point, but froze like a statue just in case. I gave the hens a little sweet talk and believe it or not, they started easing my way. The tom I missed wasn’t having any part of it, he stood around looking at me for a while, then eased off twds a small flock of jakes in the distance. The other 3 toms started to head off with him, but just couldn’t resist 30 hens and the sweet talk I was laying out. They blew into strut, I cut, and was immediately answered. It’s on baby! The hens finally made it to around 40 yds, but the toms were still acting very cautious. That’s a lot of eyes to fool, my right leg was asleep and the ole vest cushion was about as comfy as a sharp rock at this point. When the cramp hit my left hip, I really started to wonder if it was worth it lol. Mind over matter I suppose as I stayed put. I could only fool the hens for so long, they’d gotten to around 30 yds and were giving me the evil eye stare down. They never spooked, but knew something was up, so started to head away. The toms had slowly made it to the back side of the flock and as they turned away with the hens, it was now or never. I settled the cross hairs and sent a HW7 on it’s way dropping the middle tom. They all split at that point, but one of the toms ran back over to his buddy and gave him a couple spurs, putted, ran a bit, and stopped to look at his buddy one last time. I settled the hairs and sent another HW7 down field piling up #4 for the day!
Turned out to be a couple nice birds. I’d just be guessing on age as both had blunt rubbed down spurs, prob 3yos. The first bird sported a nice 10-3/4” beard, 1” spurs, and weighed in at 18.5lbs. The second bird was a double beard, the main was 10-3/4” and second was 5-1/4in. He also sported blunt 1” spurs and weighed in at 19.25lbs:
After loading up my birds, I headed over to Dad to see if we could coax another in for him. We ended up calling in a pile of jakes, but never saw any toms. I was starting to wonder if John was going to score on day 1 as I hadn’t heard anything from him. About an hour before dark my phone rang and Big John had just laid the hammer on two nice toms!! He said it was dead til later in the eve. He had a group of 8 big long beards enter the field, but a deer started snorting and ruined the show as they headed for the hills. Shortly after a huge flock of hens entered the field and two toms pulled up the rear of the pack. He cracked the first tom when they got in range and cut the second before he fled the field as well. We all were on the board on day 1. A fantastic day at that, you just can’t hardly complain about 8 long beards in the truck in a 12 hour period.
John’s birds were solid 2yos, one even sported a double beard. His first bird sported a 9.5” main beard, 4.25” second beard, 7/8” spurs, and tipped the scales at 20.5lbs. His second had a 8-7/8” beard, ¾” spurs, and weighed in at 18lbs. Talk about exhausted, we didn’t hit the hay ‘til almost midnight that night.
John’s 1st and 2nd toms:
The weather forecast was calling for high winds the next day, so we knew it might be a bit tough. Dad wanted to try the same spot he’d scored the 1st morn, so John and I dropped him off and headed out to a new spot. We heard one tom way off the property at daybreak, but nothing else, so we headed to two other spots with no luck. We finally struck a bird about 10 and called him clear across a big rye field, when a lone hen came in and took him off the property. Dad sent a text “Tagged Out!” so we headed over to hear the story. He’d called two toms and a bunch of jakes around 8:30 and smoked down one of the toms another nice double beard! He stayed put for a while, then decided to make a move to a creek bottom on the other side of the property. When he walked out of the timber he’d been sitting in there was a huge flock of around 40 birds about 150yds from him in an open field, He hit the deck and crawled to the nearest tree, luckily they never knew he was there. He called at the flock for a while and one tom broke from the pack and came in on a string. Another double beard!
Dad’s 3rd tom sported a thick 9” main beard, 3.5” second beard, blunt ¾” spurs, and weighed in at 21lbs. His 4th bird sported an 8-5/8” main beard, 4-3/4” second beard, 7/8” spurs, and weighed in at 19.5lbs:
We cleaned Dad’s two toms and headed to town for a bite to eat. After we ate we headed to the hotel for a nap and about the time John started counting sheep, I jumped out of bed and said screw sleeping, lets go kill turkeys! We went and glassed a couple places with no luck, so decided to go finish out the evening at the spot John killed his first two. It was a large creek bottom with some steep bluffs and a decent size rye patch, so we figured we could find a spot out of the wind and settle in for the eve. It was pretty quiet for a while, but we had some jakes come in around 3 and keep us entertained for a while. About 5 we were munching on jerky, shooting the bull. John had taken off his face mask and gloves and propped his gun on a tree. I happened to look across the field and there was a long beard standing at the edge of the rye staring us down. I told John “There he is!!” We’re sitting there unprepared, but I hit him with some sweet talk and that was all it took, he blew up and started easing our way. About that time two more toms popped out of the brush and busted John reaching for the gun. I threw out some yelps and the 3 jakes from earlier started blowing our hats off with gobbles. That was enough to calm the closest tom as he blew back into strut and started heading our way. By now John’s almost in position and he eased on up when the tom hit about 50yds. The two other toms started putting again, but the jakes were still singing. When he hit 48yds, John gave him a face full of hevi and he went down hard. #11 in the dirt baby!!! We got John’s bird, hid him in the brush, and settled back in. We’d blind call every few mins for the next couple hours with no more birds entering the field. Then about an hour before dark I caught movement on the distant ridge and caught a glimpse of a strutting tom drop off the ridge into the creek bottom a good ways out. I started showering him with cuts and a short 5 mins later two red heads popped up out of the creek bottom and started heading our way. John was ready this time lol. They strutted across the rye and when they crossed the 50yd mark, John let the SX2 eat slamming him hard. Tagged out baby!! 12 birds in two days!! That doesn’t happen often, but it sure is sweet.
John’s 3rd bird sported a 9.25” beard, ¾” spurs, and weighed in at 19.25lbs. His 4th bird had a 8-5/8” beard, 5/8” spurs, and weighed in at 20lbs even:
The scene of John’s spot:
One heck of a hunt and one we’ll never forget.
Ya’ll have a good one,
loder
Saturday morn I dropped John and Dad off at their spots and then headed to the field I was to hunt. On the way in I heard some toms fire off in the dark, a beautiful sound! I got settled in against a massive cotton wood about 200yds from where some larger groups of trees were that I suspected would be the roost for the previous eve. As the horizon turned a slight shade of light blue, a sound echoed across the countryside that I’ll never forget. There were at least 100 toms firing off in every direction! I’ve heard some dandy Rio roost over the years, but don’t believe I’ve ever heard that many birds firing off in one area. There were probably 20 jakes and toms firing off on the property I was hunting, so it definitely seemed promising to say the least. That said, I also had a massive flock of hens to contend with, so I prepared for the battle. When the hens started talking, I talked back, but it seemed the toms were only gobbling at other toms or the hens around their roost. As light filled the valley, the hens became a bit more vocal, so I started pouring on a bit of sass and seemed to be drawing more attention from the boys. I could now see the birds across the field, they were in the trees I suspected just on the other side of a small patch of yellow grass. When the hens started to pitch down, I did a fly down and cackle, but the boys went silent. I was starting to think the massive flock of hens were going to give a good challenge, then all of the sudden I spotted movement in the yellow grass. Two birds emerged in a dead run twds me, but it was too dark to tell if they were jakes or toms. At around 50yds they both blew into strut and both had full fans, so off with the safety! When they hit 30, I settled the dot on the lead bird and when he stretched out his head, I mailed that dude some hevi shot! His buddy took off to the left at the shot, then spun around to check on his bud(a fatal mistake)
After I cracked bird #2, I spotted movement to my right and another tom had slipped in about 75yds out. When he turned to the right to leave, I could see a freaking massive rope swing around. Oh well, two toms down, maybe I’ll meet that big guy again next year. Bird one sported a 9-3/4” beard, weighed in at 20lbs, and had 15/16” spurs. The second tom had beard rot, but had some strands that were 7-7/8” long. He weighed in at 19.25lbs and had 7/8” spurs. Couple of volunteering(or suicidal) two year olds:
Right after I killed the two toms, I got a text from John that he had 4 toms in range, but his Fast Fire was dead!! Cell service was limited in the area, but we finally got connected and he’d taken the sight off and planned to use the bead, but the action was dead after the big flock left out that morn. John said the massive flock of hens carried all the toms to the hills after fly down. He got 4 to peel off and come in range, but might as well just carried a camera. I drove to a couple of other spots to scout, but didn’t find much sign at either, so decided to head over to John and give him my SX2 since I’d brought my m500 20ga as back up. When I got over to John, he said things had been dead a while, so we decided to head over to Dad and see how his morning had went. Dad had already laid out two toms that morn. He said one came in around 8 and hung up on a fence. Shortly after two more came in to around 30 yds. He smooth missed twice and connected on the 3rd shot. He said the second tom ran off, then ran back to pounce on his flopping compadre. He dropped another shell in the chamber and ended that party! We decided to clean the 4 birds and head to town for a bite to eat.
Dads Saturday morning toms were also 2yos. One sported a 8-3/8” beard, 7/8” spurs, and weighed in at 16.25lbs. The second tom had a 9” beard, 15/16” spurs, and weighed in at 18-1/2 lbs:
After lunch we headed back out to the same spots we’d hunted that morn. When we dropped off dad, I decided to cut and a tom hammered a few hundred yards away. We all slipped into the timber and called for a while, but he never did budge, so John and I headed out to our spots for another try. I gave my SX2 to John as we couldn’t get his Fast Fire to work even after changing the battery. I finally got it to come on after working the switch about 10 times, but no sense in taking a gamble. Not to mention worrying about if it was even close to zero after the base being removed.
I decided to go out to the property I hunted that morn since there was so many gobbling at day break. I drove up to a high ridge to glass the distant fields and spotted a nice size flock right off the bat, but there was absolutely no cover to slip in close. I got to within 3-400yds and settled in. After calling for a while, I never got a response, so eased up to a ridge to glass. They were still there, so I went back down to the rye field and sat for a while with no luck. I figured they would roost in the same area as the night before, so decided to head to some other spots and see if I could strike a lonely tom. As I’m driving out, I decided to go back up to the high ridge and glass the field in the distance where the large flock was hanging out. I get up there and they are gone. I glassed all around the field and finally spotted some heads in the high grass, the whole flock was headed to the rye field I’d been sitting on! The chase was on at this point. I grabbed my gun and humped it around a hill for cover and just about the time I hit the edge of the field the turkeys had beat me to it, but they were a few hundred yards away and I had a big clump of oak brush between us, so I crawled to the near side and sat against a small tree. After things settled a bit, I glassed the flock and saw there were about 30 hens and 4 stud duck strutters doing the dance. I showered them with cuts, but didn’t get much attention. After a while, one of the strutters broke from the other 3 and danced out into the field. I hit him again and he headed my way. He’d strut a bit, then do the ole stretch and look. I finally convinced him there was a sweet heart waiting on him and he walked straight to me. I wanted to be a bit picky at this point, so I waited ‘til he got close and saw he had some good gear. Problem was, I waited a bit too long, Big Tom Fever had set in, I’m not going to lie about it. I smooth shanked the shot, missed that rascal clean. He sailed across the field and landed near the flock unharmed. Apparently the high wind that eve, the little crack of the 20, the distance to the flock, and me cutting like a mad hen after the wiffed shot was enough to convince the flock nothing was wrong because they all looked my direction for a bit, then started feeding again! I thought it was over at that point, but froze like a statue just in case. I gave the hens a little sweet talk and believe it or not, they started easing my way. The tom I missed wasn’t having any part of it, he stood around looking at me for a while, then eased off twds a small flock of jakes in the distance. The other 3 toms started to head off with him, but just couldn’t resist 30 hens and the sweet talk I was laying out. They blew into strut, I cut, and was immediately answered. It’s on baby! The hens finally made it to around 40 yds, but the toms were still acting very cautious. That’s a lot of eyes to fool, my right leg was asleep and the ole vest cushion was about as comfy as a sharp rock at this point. When the cramp hit my left hip, I really started to wonder if it was worth it lol. Mind over matter I suppose as I stayed put. I could only fool the hens for so long, they’d gotten to around 30 yds and were giving me the evil eye stare down. They never spooked, but knew something was up, so started to head away. The toms had slowly made it to the back side of the flock and as they turned away with the hens, it was now or never. I settled the cross hairs and sent a HW7 on it’s way dropping the middle tom. They all split at that point, but one of the toms ran back over to his buddy and gave him a couple spurs, putted, ran a bit, and stopped to look at his buddy one last time. I settled the hairs and sent another HW7 down field piling up #4 for the day!
Turned out to be a couple nice birds. I’d just be guessing on age as both had blunt rubbed down spurs, prob 3yos. The first bird sported a nice 10-3/4” beard, 1” spurs, and weighed in at 18.5lbs. The second bird was a double beard, the main was 10-3/4” and second was 5-1/4in. He also sported blunt 1” spurs and weighed in at 19.25lbs:
After loading up my birds, I headed over to Dad to see if we could coax another in for him. We ended up calling in a pile of jakes, but never saw any toms. I was starting to wonder if John was going to score on day 1 as I hadn’t heard anything from him. About an hour before dark my phone rang and Big John had just laid the hammer on two nice toms!! He said it was dead til later in the eve. He had a group of 8 big long beards enter the field, but a deer started snorting and ruined the show as they headed for the hills. Shortly after a huge flock of hens entered the field and two toms pulled up the rear of the pack. He cracked the first tom when they got in range and cut the second before he fled the field as well. We all were on the board on day 1. A fantastic day at that, you just can’t hardly complain about 8 long beards in the truck in a 12 hour period.
John’s birds were solid 2yos, one even sported a double beard. His first bird sported a 9.5” main beard, 4.25” second beard, 7/8” spurs, and tipped the scales at 20.5lbs. His second had a 8-7/8” beard, ¾” spurs, and weighed in at 18lbs. Talk about exhausted, we didn’t hit the hay ‘til almost midnight that night.
John’s 1st and 2nd toms:
The weather forecast was calling for high winds the next day, so we knew it might be a bit tough. Dad wanted to try the same spot he’d scored the 1st morn, so John and I dropped him off and headed out to a new spot. We heard one tom way off the property at daybreak, but nothing else, so we headed to two other spots with no luck. We finally struck a bird about 10 and called him clear across a big rye field, when a lone hen came in and took him off the property. Dad sent a text “Tagged Out!” so we headed over to hear the story. He’d called two toms and a bunch of jakes around 8:30 and smoked down one of the toms another nice double beard! He stayed put for a while, then decided to make a move to a creek bottom on the other side of the property. When he walked out of the timber he’d been sitting in there was a huge flock of around 40 birds about 150yds from him in an open field, He hit the deck and crawled to the nearest tree, luckily they never knew he was there. He called at the flock for a while and one tom broke from the pack and came in on a string. Another double beard!
Dad’s 3rd tom sported a thick 9” main beard, 3.5” second beard, blunt ¾” spurs, and weighed in at 21lbs. His 4th bird sported an 8-5/8” main beard, 4-3/4” second beard, 7/8” spurs, and weighed in at 19.5lbs:
We cleaned Dad’s two toms and headed to town for a bite to eat. After we ate we headed to the hotel for a nap and about the time John started counting sheep, I jumped out of bed and said screw sleeping, lets go kill turkeys! We went and glassed a couple places with no luck, so decided to go finish out the evening at the spot John killed his first two. It was a large creek bottom with some steep bluffs and a decent size rye patch, so we figured we could find a spot out of the wind and settle in for the eve. It was pretty quiet for a while, but we had some jakes come in around 3 and keep us entertained for a while. About 5 we were munching on jerky, shooting the bull. John had taken off his face mask and gloves and propped his gun on a tree. I happened to look across the field and there was a long beard standing at the edge of the rye staring us down. I told John “There he is!!” We’re sitting there unprepared, but I hit him with some sweet talk and that was all it took, he blew up and started easing our way. About that time two more toms popped out of the brush and busted John reaching for the gun. I threw out some yelps and the 3 jakes from earlier started blowing our hats off with gobbles. That was enough to calm the closest tom as he blew back into strut and started heading our way. By now John’s almost in position and he eased on up when the tom hit about 50yds. The two other toms started putting again, but the jakes were still singing. When he hit 48yds, John gave him a face full of hevi and he went down hard. #11 in the dirt baby!!! We got John’s bird, hid him in the brush, and settled back in. We’d blind call every few mins for the next couple hours with no more birds entering the field. Then about an hour before dark I caught movement on the distant ridge and caught a glimpse of a strutting tom drop off the ridge into the creek bottom a good ways out. I started showering him with cuts and a short 5 mins later two red heads popped up out of the creek bottom and started heading our way. John was ready this time lol. They strutted across the rye and when they crossed the 50yd mark, John let the SX2 eat slamming him hard. Tagged out baby!! 12 birds in two days!! That doesn’t happen often, but it sure is sweet.
John’s 3rd bird sported a 9.25” beard, ¾” spurs, and weighed in at 19.25lbs. His 4th bird had a 8-5/8” beard, 5/8” spurs, and weighed in at 20lbs even:
The scene of John’s spot:
One heck of a hunt and one we’ll never forget.
Ya’ll have a good one,
loder
