The plans changed and he invited me to head up to his other Aunt and Uncle's place in Guttenburg. Michael still had school Friday morning so I figured I would just hunt around Ames in the morning. With it being 4th season already, I knew public was going to be difficult at best so I opted for a gamble and headed behind Nick and Lisa's place where I have spent so much time already.
I parked in my usual spot in front of the boat off of their driveway and stood in the grass and listened for a distant gobble.........Nothing.
I knew it was a gamble but at this stage I was a free man and needed to just sit in the cool dirt amongst the trees again. I headed down the logging road and crossed the creek. I stood at the confluence of the creeks and gave a couple of clucks on my mouth call.
GOBBLEGOBBLEGOBBLE!!!
He was at the head of the bend in the creek right at the top of the ridge, and he was close. I had gotten within 100 yards. I hopped the creek bank and set up my decoys as quickly as possible and got comfy against a large locust tree and downed oak.
Right at sun-up I look up and in a tree in front of me, a hen flies down and heads up the ridge behind me. The gobbler was on the opposite ridge and he would gobble every twenty minutes or so. After an hour and a half he finally moved. He was moving along the ridge closer to me. When he got to the point of the ridge he paced back and forth and gobbled; constantly. In the world of turkeys, it it much easier to persuade a bird uphill than it is down, so I know I was going to need a miracle to pull this off.
I caught movement along the side of the ridge opposite of me.
Damn.
It was a lone hen and she was having none of my clucks and yelps. She was going to keep her man on that side with her. Gobblers tend to like hens with a pulse.
At this point he was gobbling every 20 seconds. I knew the only way to get him to me was to piss her off. I clucked and yelped as loud, and obnoxious as possible. At this point he was double and triple gobbling at me and I could hear him scratching at the leaves at the top of the ridge. The hen would cluck every now and then and I knew it wasn't going to happen with her in the game.
Out of absolute nowhere, a coyote comes flying down the ridge behind me, crossing the creek and charges the hen and gobbler at the top of the opposite ridge. They both alarm putt and fly into an oak at the point of the ridge. This was my chance!
I threw everything I had at him with my mouth call. He gobbled like his life depended on it. The hen clucked and putted back at me and finally got frustrated enough that she flew down and headed back in the direction of Nick's place giving me a lone gobbler.
He hit the ground and headed straight down the point of the ridge. Beard swaying, and head all white, he hit the bottoms at about 60 yards.
GOBBLEGOBBLEGOBBLEGOBBLEGOBBLE!!!!
This bird was as hot as they get. He strutted back and forth pausing only to gobble until he was out of breath. He would spit, drum, and pivot back and forth. I gave him a cluck or two and he caught site of my decoys on my side of the creek.
At 45 yards he puffed up and gobbled right at my face. I couldn't handle it anymore. I could have waited for him to hop the creek and be in my set but I was a quivering mess so at 38 yards I let him have it.
BOOM!!!
My new shells damn near blew the gun out of my hands. With ears ringing I jumped up and ran at my bird. He was down for the count!!!
The woods were prime for pics.
While on the phone with Nick I searched out the secret tree for morel mushrooms and came up empty. It was still dry and they were not popping. This was all completely irrelevant as I managed to pull in a gobbler behind Nick's place, 4th season of my final turkey season in Iowa for potentially a long time. This was the greatest way to start my turkey season! The whole morning's event took almost three hours and my weekend had barely started!! With another tag to fill I was off to Guttenburg with Michael.
Stay Tuned
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