I haven't hunted turkeys since I killed my last in 2003. I lost my good place to hunt, and never had many turkeys on my own place, so I just got out of the habit. I wasn't planning to hunt this year, either, but then I got to fooling around with cedar bark wadding, just as an experiment, and had a lot of fun doing it. I set myself the goal of taking all the game I usually hunt using that wadding, and collected squirrels, rabbits, dove and a deer with it last fall. Only turkey remained, and I had serious doubts I could find one to finish out my grand slam. Shows you how much I know.
It was a beautiful morning, gorgeous sunrise sky, light wind, brisk but not cold. I set up 30 minutes before shooting time in an area where I've occasionally seen turkeys, and 150 yards from a tree they have roosted in a few times. As the light came on I started making some soft tree noises and listening for any gobbling. Not a peep for 45 minutes, until 0700, then a loud gobble to my north, sounding maybe 125 yards away. It was not in the direction I expected, and there was a steep little valley and a small stream between me and him. I talked to him a little for the next 45 minutes, and he was gobbling pretty actively, occasionally 3-4 in quick succession. But he never moved, and I decided he probably wouldn't be coming to me. I left my gear and moved toward him, very slowly and watching everywhere. I moved up the steep little slope toward a flat on top where there is a small hayfield, recently mowed. He had stopped gobbling, now, and I thought the game was up. Then, easing ever so slowly up, I got to where my eyes were level with the field, and there the big rascal was, moving slowly in my direction in a zig-zag fashion, apparently feeding. He was about 35 yards out, so I moved on up a little, shouldered my smoothbore, and waited. There was a lot of lush greenery between us, and I couldn't always see him, but eventually he moved into the clear and at only about 18 yard away. Ignition was instant, the smoke blotted everything out for a few seconds, and he was nowhere to be seen when it cleared. But, I heard wingbeats. Thought he was flying, for an instant, but then realized it was the death beat, and that I had killed a tom using cedar bark wadding, finishing out my grand slam. Some hunts are better than others, and this one rates near the top, with me.
He was a good bird, mature, 24 lbs. 10-inch beard. I loaded my 46", 20 gauge Jackie Brown smoothbore with 90 gr. FFg, a thick wad of shredded cedar bark, 1 1/2-oz. of chilled #6 shot and a smaller wad of cedar.
This sort of thing could get me back into the habit of turkey hunting.
Spence
It was a beautiful morning, gorgeous sunrise sky, light wind, brisk but not cold. I set up 30 minutes before shooting time in an area where I've occasionally seen turkeys, and 150 yards from a tree they have roosted in a few times. As the light came on I started making some soft tree noises and listening for any gobbling. Not a peep for 45 minutes, until 0700, then a loud gobble to my north, sounding maybe 125 yards away. It was not in the direction I expected, and there was a steep little valley and a small stream between me and him. I talked to him a little for the next 45 minutes, and he was gobbling pretty actively, occasionally 3-4 in quick succession. But he never moved, and I decided he probably wouldn't be coming to me. I left my gear and moved toward him, very slowly and watching everywhere. I moved up the steep little slope toward a flat on top where there is a small hayfield, recently mowed. He had stopped gobbling, now, and I thought the game was up. Then, easing ever so slowly up, I got to where my eyes were level with the field, and there the big rascal was, moving slowly in my direction in a zig-zag fashion, apparently feeding. He was about 35 yards out, so I moved on up a little, shouldered my smoothbore, and waited. There was a lot of lush greenery between us, and I couldn't always see him, but eventually he moved into the clear and at only about 18 yard away. Ignition was instant, the smoke blotted everything out for a few seconds, and he was nowhere to be seen when it cleared. But, I heard wingbeats. Thought he was flying, for an instant, but then realized it was the death beat, and that I had killed a tom using cedar bark wadding, finishing out my grand slam. Some hunts are better than others, and this one rates near the top, with me.
He was a good bird, mature, 24 lbs. 10-inch beard. I loaded my 46", 20 gauge Jackie Brown smoothbore with 90 gr. FFg, a thick wad of shredded cedar bark, 1 1/2-oz. of chilled #6 shot and a smaller wad of cedar.
This sort of thing could get me back into the habit of turkey hunting.
Spence
