Well, now that it's all behind us, I hope everyone had a good, safe, and fun 2014 turkey season...I know I sure did! It was a challenge at times, and those hainted gobblers that we love to hate were acting funny and gobbling less everywhere I went, but I had more than enough highlights to keep me looking ahead and anxious for next year. I think everyone here shares those feelings! A short apology is in order though; I didn't take nearly enough pictures other than "kill shots" for this "photomentary," and I think it suffers because of that. But, it's always fun to post my pictures on the web and see it all in linear form, and I hope you agree.
As per normal, we started off in the Sunshine State, where I guide on some real decent private property and hunt on some highly pressured public land. A couple weeks prior to the season, three of my scheduled guys cancelled on me, so I was in "panic mode" before I ever arrived in Lakeland. I was able to scramble around and fill a couple of those spots, so everything ended up ok, but I have to tell ya, those guys who cancelled really blew it, because we were into gobblers down there from Day 1! Everybody I guided had their birds in minimal time afield, and first off was Asif Majid, from Canada. We had a great time hunting together! His gobbler hobbled into the field an hour after daylight, fuzzed all up, and hobbled towards us. I have never seen a turkey limp so badly, but he never broke strut until Asif ended his day at 20 yards. Being a Muslim, Asif had to first "bleed" the bird and say a prayer over him so it was fit to eat, and then we went back to camp and celebrated with my Florida "family." Later, we all decided to drive to town and eat at a local spot that supposedly served fine tablefare, and by the time it was all said and done, there were 5 vehicles following us to town. Not really knowing where this restaurant was located, Asif used his smart phone to plug in the address, and then directed me as we wound our way through downtown Lakeland. Halfway there I realized (and was thoroughly amused by) the irony of the fact that here were a bunch of camo-clad, redneck turkey hunters from all parts of the country, following a Pakistani Muslim from Ontario, Canada in a quest for the best chicken gizzards and BBQ pork in town (Asif had the fish). :lol: Here's Asif and his bird, who's right leg was broken, healed, and frozen stiff from the knee on down, and emaciated to only half the size of the other one:
Next up were a pair of fellows who were originally scheduled for 2015, but who jumped at the chance to fill in the gaping hole in my 2014 itinerary. Charlie Southworth had hunted with me previously, and that hunt had successfully ended before we'd hardly gotten to know each other. That's how it goes some (most) times. Now, he brought his buddy David Rogers along, and we hunted that first afternoon without making a kill, although we had 4 toms gobbling their brains out for a couple hours. Unfortunately, they wouldn't leave the neighbor's property with its corn feeder and 9 nearby hens...can you imagine?! The next day was more of the same until we moved to a different property across the highway, and about 3:30 in the afternoon we saw a huge gobbler strutting towards us without gobbling. He came to about 50 yards and hung up for some reason, but then I saw why....2 more gobblers suddenly started chasing him back the way he'd come. I cut hard on a glass call and they slammed on the brakes, turned on a dime, and hustled towards my DSD flock of 2 strutters, 2 jakes, 5 upright hens, 3 feeding hens, 2 laying-down hens, and a "leading" hen (no, they aren't all mine, but when me and my buddies throw them all in together, you oughta see how they look....AND the results they get!!!!!). Picking out a jake to beat up, the gobblers half-fuzzed up and advanced rapidly, only to be smote down by David and Charlie nearly simultaneously....SWEET DOUBLE!!! Here's David on the left, Charlie on the right, and some of the flock scattered behind them):
My final client was Robert Lee, and we went back to the other side of the highway for our hunt. We heard a little gobbling at dawn, and shortly thereafter we saw 3 hens and a gobbler slowly working towards us. The hens wanted to go on a direct line past us at 50 yards on their way to the neighbors' feeder 250 yards away, but the tom just couldn't resist making a detour and aggressively charging up to my DSD strutter. Shame on him.....
It was then my time to hunt on public land, and on my second day I had a classic encounter with one of its evil, hainted Osceola toms. He gobbled quite a bit for one of his kind in the roost, but then sailed past me at flydown and soundlessly snuck back in to my muted, contented calling. It was a great hunt, and here's his picture:
I'd put in for some limited quota hunts this year at other properties just for fun, and was drawn for a 3-day hunt at a place I'd never seen before. The first day I found a gobbling tom at 13 minutes before 1 o'clock (public land hunters must quit at 1), so the next day I am the first guy through the gate, but when I reach my area, there's someone camping (illegal) right there! I wasn't sure what to do, but I knew he wasn't supposed to be there, so I stood around awaiting a gobble back in the swamp. The only decent way into the swamp was a narrow path 30 yards from his tent, so about 8 a.m. I walked on by him eating breakfast and said, "good morning" as I passed, but he never even looked up or acknowledged me. What an - I AM A POTTY MOUTH -- I AM A POTTY MOUTH -- I AM A POTTY MOUTH -. Another 125 yards down the path (sort of an elevated "causeway" through the deep, wet swamp) was where the tom had gobbled yesterday, so I quickly built a cabbage frond blind to await the tom showing up. I didn't have long to wait, since he gobbled 175 yards back in the swamp as I was sitting down. He answered my first and only call, and gobbled several more times as he drew near, then I could hear the rhythmic "sploosh, sploosh, sploosh" as he walked in the water before stepping up on my causeway. I shot him as he stuck his neck out parallel to the ground to gobble in full strut, and this tom was one of only a handful of turkeys I've killed over the years who never so much as quivered after being shot. Stone-cold dead as a doorknob. The shot must've got the attention of the illegal camper too, because he was packed up and GONE by the time I took pictures and walked back out. You can see my cabbage palm hide over my left shoulder in the picture:
One of my good friends (Doug Pickle) then came back with me to this area for the final day's hunt. We'd scouted the day before and found huge tracks in an isolated section of the property, then heard 2 separate birds gobbling to our owl hoots as we drove out, so we had options for the following day. We both thought our best bet was the area with all the tracks and strut marks in the sandy road, but at dawn we heard exactly zero gobbling. Not wanting to waste any more time on "potential as opposed to certainty," we then hiked out the 1.25 miles, hopped in the truck, and quickly drove 2.5 miles to the first of our roost-gobbling birds. He'd sounded waaaaaay back in the swamp the previous night, and sure enough, we soon heard him gobble after parking the truck. Hot-footing it down another elevated old tramway, we hadn't gone far before the tom sounded MUCH closer. I guess that swamp was soaking up all the sound and making him appear much further than he was in reality. Anyhoo, we quickly set up but it's a terrible mess....THICK swamp, DEEP water, NO openings...just terrible! But, it was all we had and the tom ripped into any call I made on the Cane Creek Glass. He was on us in no time, and I swear that bird strutted across water that must've been 3 feet deep! I don't know how he did it, and I'm not sure I want to know, but there wasn't any dry ground or places for him TO strut, and we both saw him doing it. Doug made the shot count, then fell in the water up to his neck 3 times AFTER making the retrieve....that boy would make a - I AM A POTTY MOUTH -- I AM A POTTY MOUTH -- I AM A POTTY MOUTH -- I AM A POTTY MOUTH -- I AM A POTTY MOUTH -- I AM A POTTY MOUTH -- I AM A POTTY MOUTH - Labrador Retriever, if he had a nose on him!! :lol:
Then came easily one of my favorite hunts in all my career. I know that I've mentioned David Caudill on here before. He is 85, the "patriarch" of my Florida family, and one of the most talented and distinguished turkey hunters I've ever known. I don't think it's an exaggeration to say that he's a hero to me. David had drawn a "Special Opportunity" hunt this year. These are offered by the state of Florida as a way to bring in additional money, and they are hunts with limited access and lower hunter densities than those found on regular WMA's. They can be pretty good, too! Well, we didn't hear a bird the first day, but after shooting hours were over we drove around and found lots of gobbler tracks in a particular spot, so we moved our blind and hunted there the next day. We managed to call a gobbler up to about 50 yards too, but he seemed reluctant to leave the edge of a large cypress pond/strand and approach our setup on the pine ridge along the road. After the hunt I again moved our setup to where the tom had been standing, and from there I could see exactly why he had been where he was....the cypress strand was beautiful, open, and covered in lush green pinkroot shoots (and turkey tracks!). The next day was cold (38 degrees), so we put a heater in the blind and I even brought a blanket and fleece jacket/hat to keep David warm. The previous day he'd also had terrible trouble with his hearing aid, and had only been able to hear the tom gobble once or twice when very close. Today he'd put in an old model, and suddenly he could hear nearly everything I could! Owls hooting, crows cawing, treefrogs and songbirds chirping....and hens yelping...David heard hens yelping!!! Then, a gobble! Straight in front, across the dry cypress pond, I then hear drumming....and so does David!!! Then, there he was in all his glory....a magnificent Osceola gobbler strutting for all he was worth. He came in slowly until he was 70 yards, and at that point he saw the strutter and the fight was on. David shot him at 20 yards. There was so much good about this hunt, but the best was that David saw it all, heard it all, and shared it with me!! Here's my hero and his bird:
As per normal, we started off in the Sunshine State, where I guide on some real decent private property and hunt on some highly pressured public land. A couple weeks prior to the season, three of my scheduled guys cancelled on me, so I was in "panic mode" before I ever arrived in Lakeland. I was able to scramble around and fill a couple of those spots, so everything ended up ok, but I have to tell ya, those guys who cancelled really blew it, because we were into gobblers down there from Day 1! Everybody I guided had their birds in minimal time afield, and first off was Asif Majid, from Canada. We had a great time hunting together! His gobbler hobbled into the field an hour after daylight, fuzzed all up, and hobbled towards us. I have never seen a turkey limp so badly, but he never broke strut until Asif ended his day at 20 yards. Being a Muslim, Asif had to first "bleed" the bird and say a prayer over him so it was fit to eat, and then we went back to camp and celebrated with my Florida "family." Later, we all decided to drive to town and eat at a local spot that supposedly served fine tablefare, and by the time it was all said and done, there were 5 vehicles following us to town. Not really knowing where this restaurant was located, Asif used his smart phone to plug in the address, and then directed me as we wound our way through downtown Lakeland. Halfway there I realized (and was thoroughly amused by) the irony of the fact that here were a bunch of camo-clad, redneck turkey hunters from all parts of the country, following a Pakistani Muslim from Ontario, Canada in a quest for the best chicken gizzards and BBQ pork in town (Asif had the fish). :lol: Here's Asif and his bird, who's right leg was broken, healed, and frozen stiff from the knee on down, and emaciated to only half the size of the other one:
Next up were a pair of fellows who were originally scheduled for 2015, but who jumped at the chance to fill in the gaping hole in my 2014 itinerary. Charlie Southworth had hunted with me previously, and that hunt had successfully ended before we'd hardly gotten to know each other. That's how it goes some (most) times. Now, he brought his buddy David Rogers along, and we hunted that first afternoon without making a kill, although we had 4 toms gobbling their brains out for a couple hours. Unfortunately, they wouldn't leave the neighbor's property with its corn feeder and 9 nearby hens...can you imagine?! The next day was more of the same until we moved to a different property across the highway, and about 3:30 in the afternoon we saw a huge gobbler strutting towards us without gobbling. He came to about 50 yards and hung up for some reason, but then I saw why....2 more gobblers suddenly started chasing him back the way he'd come. I cut hard on a glass call and they slammed on the brakes, turned on a dime, and hustled towards my DSD flock of 2 strutters, 2 jakes, 5 upright hens, 3 feeding hens, 2 laying-down hens, and a "leading" hen (no, they aren't all mine, but when me and my buddies throw them all in together, you oughta see how they look....AND the results they get!!!!!). Picking out a jake to beat up, the gobblers half-fuzzed up and advanced rapidly, only to be smote down by David and Charlie nearly simultaneously....SWEET DOUBLE!!! Here's David on the left, Charlie on the right, and some of the flock scattered behind them):
My final client was Robert Lee, and we went back to the other side of the highway for our hunt. We heard a little gobbling at dawn, and shortly thereafter we saw 3 hens and a gobbler slowly working towards us. The hens wanted to go on a direct line past us at 50 yards on their way to the neighbors' feeder 250 yards away, but the tom just couldn't resist making a detour and aggressively charging up to my DSD strutter. Shame on him.....
It was then my time to hunt on public land, and on my second day I had a classic encounter with one of its evil, hainted Osceola toms. He gobbled quite a bit for one of his kind in the roost, but then sailed past me at flydown and soundlessly snuck back in to my muted, contented calling. It was a great hunt, and here's his picture:
I'd put in for some limited quota hunts this year at other properties just for fun, and was drawn for a 3-day hunt at a place I'd never seen before. The first day I found a gobbling tom at 13 minutes before 1 o'clock (public land hunters must quit at 1), so the next day I am the first guy through the gate, but when I reach my area, there's someone camping (illegal) right there! I wasn't sure what to do, but I knew he wasn't supposed to be there, so I stood around awaiting a gobble back in the swamp. The only decent way into the swamp was a narrow path 30 yards from his tent, so about 8 a.m. I walked on by him eating breakfast and said, "good morning" as I passed, but he never even looked up or acknowledged me. What an - I AM A POTTY MOUTH -- I AM A POTTY MOUTH -- I AM A POTTY MOUTH -. Another 125 yards down the path (sort of an elevated "causeway" through the deep, wet swamp) was where the tom had gobbled yesterday, so I quickly built a cabbage frond blind to await the tom showing up. I didn't have long to wait, since he gobbled 175 yards back in the swamp as I was sitting down. He answered my first and only call, and gobbled several more times as he drew near, then I could hear the rhythmic "sploosh, sploosh, sploosh" as he walked in the water before stepping up on my causeway. I shot him as he stuck his neck out parallel to the ground to gobble in full strut, and this tom was one of only a handful of turkeys I've killed over the years who never so much as quivered after being shot. Stone-cold dead as a doorknob. The shot must've got the attention of the illegal camper too, because he was packed up and GONE by the time I took pictures and walked back out. You can see my cabbage palm hide over my left shoulder in the picture:
One of my good friends (Doug Pickle) then came back with me to this area for the final day's hunt. We'd scouted the day before and found huge tracks in an isolated section of the property, then heard 2 separate birds gobbling to our owl hoots as we drove out, so we had options for the following day. We both thought our best bet was the area with all the tracks and strut marks in the sandy road, but at dawn we heard exactly zero gobbling. Not wanting to waste any more time on "potential as opposed to certainty," we then hiked out the 1.25 miles, hopped in the truck, and quickly drove 2.5 miles to the first of our roost-gobbling birds. He'd sounded waaaaaay back in the swamp the previous night, and sure enough, we soon heard him gobble after parking the truck. Hot-footing it down another elevated old tramway, we hadn't gone far before the tom sounded MUCH closer. I guess that swamp was soaking up all the sound and making him appear much further than he was in reality. Anyhoo, we quickly set up but it's a terrible mess....THICK swamp, DEEP water, NO openings...just terrible! But, it was all we had and the tom ripped into any call I made on the Cane Creek Glass. He was on us in no time, and I swear that bird strutted across water that must've been 3 feet deep! I don't know how he did it, and I'm not sure I want to know, but there wasn't any dry ground or places for him TO strut, and we both saw him doing it. Doug made the shot count, then fell in the water up to his neck 3 times AFTER making the retrieve....that boy would make a - I AM A POTTY MOUTH -- I AM A POTTY MOUTH -- I AM A POTTY MOUTH -- I AM A POTTY MOUTH -- I AM A POTTY MOUTH -- I AM A POTTY MOUTH -- I AM A POTTY MOUTH - Labrador Retriever, if he had a nose on him!! :lol:
Then came easily one of my favorite hunts in all my career. I know that I've mentioned David Caudill on here before. He is 85, the "patriarch" of my Florida family, and one of the most talented and distinguished turkey hunters I've ever known. I don't think it's an exaggeration to say that he's a hero to me. David had drawn a "Special Opportunity" hunt this year. These are offered by the state of Florida as a way to bring in additional money, and they are hunts with limited access and lower hunter densities than those found on regular WMA's. They can be pretty good, too! Well, we didn't hear a bird the first day, but after shooting hours were over we drove around and found lots of gobbler tracks in a particular spot, so we moved our blind and hunted there the next day. We managed to call a gobbler up to about 50 yards too, but he seemed reluctant to leave the edge of a large cypress pond/strand and approach our setup on the pine ridge along the road. After the hunt I again moved our setup to where the tom had been standing, and from there I could see exactly why he had been where he was....the cypress strand was beautiful, open, and covered in lush green pinkroot shoots (and turkey tracks!). The next day was cold (38 degrees), so we put a heater in the blind and I even brought a blanket and fleece jacket/hat to keep David warm. The previous day he'd also had terrible trouble with his hearing aid, and had only been able to hear the tom gobble once or twice when very close. Today he'd put in an old model, and suddenly he could hear nearly everything I could! Owls hooting, crows cawing, treefrogs and songbirds chirping....and hens yelping...David heard hens yelping!!! Then, a gobble! Straight in front, across the dry cypress pond, I then hear drumming....and so does David!!! Then, there he was in all his glory....a magnificent Osceola gobbler strutting for all he was worth. He came in slowly until he was 70 yards, and at that point he saw the strutter and the fight was on. David shot him at 20 yards. There was so much good about this hunt, but the best was that David saw it all, heard it all, and shared it with me!! Here's my hero and his bird: