The Baron
45 Cal.
- Joined
- May 10, 2004
- Messages
- 927
- Reaction score
- 15
After a trip to OK and KS, I decided I should try the local Ontario turkeys again. I missed a bird with my flintlock before my trip. I made the huge mistake of not patterning again before the season ("too busy" is my lame excuse) and ended up loading the gun wrong (forgot my best load) and no doubt had a pattern 10 feet wide. Plus, I tried a shot that was a bit too far for the gun. Excuses, excuses... I screwed up and had to shake it off.
So, I went out yesterday afternoon and patterned the Caywood Type C again. 80gr. 3F, 4 over-shot cards on the charge (thanks for that tip which I got here) and 1 1/8 oz. #6 patterned well to 20 yards. I was back on track and ready to shake the monkey off my back.
I had not scouted since before the season, but I headed to a new farm I got this year. I did not expect much to happen, and so I headed in alone. I figured a little time to think would help me get back into work mode again.
To my suprise, a bird gobbled from my side of the woodlot as I was going in. It was game on! I decided to be aggressive in my aproach, as I figured I could use the tree cover to get in close, plus the grass field made for quiet movment. I slipped along the edge of the woodlot and cut the distance to the bird in half. As I was putting out my decoy, he gobbled. He was close - about 75 yards! Maybe too close... but I was committed. I got set up as quietly as I could, just inside the edge of the woods, facing my jake decoy 8 yards away at the field edge. The tom did not answer my first soft tree yelps, or clucks. I was thinking I might have blown it by getting too close. Then a passing train blew it's whistle and he gobbled again. That didn't mean he hadn't seen me, but I remained optimistic becasue I knew I had ninja'd my way in there pretty good. I heard him pitch out, but was not sure where he landed. A few minutes later I spotted him standing in the field edge, about 70 yards away to my left, in half strut and staring at my jake decoy. He walked a little further out and went into full strut. He very, very slowly started making it my way, strutting most of the time and then stretching his neck to stare at my jake. I could hear him spit and drum - I love that sound. After he was down for only a few minutes, I heard some soft hen yelps from behind my to my right, in the woods. A minute or two later, I heard a hen pitch down about 100 yards behind me and yelp softly. I couldn't believe my luck - I was now between a lone tom and his hen. I couldn't help but grin to myself as the tom inched closer and gobbled one last time. I managed to keep myself together while the tom closed to 13 yards. I decided that was sufficient and floored him with the ol' 20ga. flintlock as he stood looking toward me. It was 5:55 am and when the smoke cleared, he was down!
So, I ended up in the perfect place at just the right time. I'll admit it... I think the turkey Gods handed me this one!
He was 21.5 lbs. on the fish scale, 9 1/2" beard and 3/4" spurs.
Here's the view back toward my hide, just inside the poplars. As you can see from the blood and feathers in the foreground, Mr. Tom took it pretty hard.
I was glad I had been so bold in getting close to this bird. If I had not closed the distance, I would have ended up with the hen between me and the tom and I guarantee the story would not have had such a nice, smokey ending.
Here's one last pic, taken in sepia color. I think it suits the gun well.
__________________
So, I went out yesterday afternoon and patterned the Caywood Type C again. 80gr. 3F, 4 over-shot cards on the charge (thanks for that tip which I got here) and 1 1/8 oz. #6 patterned well to 20 yards. I was back on track and ready to shake the monkey off my back.
I had not scouted since before the season, but I headed to a new farm I got this year. I did not expect much to happen, and so I headed in alone. I figured a little time to think would help me get back into work mode again.
To my suprise, a bird gobbled from my side of the woodlot as I was going in. It was game on! I decided to be aggressive in my aproach, as I figured I could use the tree cover to get in close, plus the grass field made for quiet movment. I slipped along the edge of the woodlot and cut the distance to the bird in half. As I was putting out my decoy, he gobbled. He was close - about 75 yards! Maybe too close... but I was committed. I got set up as quietly as I could, just inside the edge of the woods, facing my jake decoy 8 yards away at the field edge. The tom did not answer my first soft tree yelps, or clucks. I was thinking I might have blown it by getting too close. Then a passing train blew it's whistle and he gobbled again. That didn't mean he hadn't seen me, but I remained optimistic becasue I knew I had ninja'd my way in there pretty good. I heard him pitch out, but was not sure where he landed. A few minutes later I spotted him standing in the field edge, about 70 yards away to my left, in half strut and staring at my jake decoy. He walked a little further out and went into full strut. He very, very slowly started making it my way, strutting most of the time and then stretching his neck to stare at my jake. I could hear him spit and drum - I love that sound. After he was down for only a few minutes, I heard some soft hen yelps from behind my to my right, in the woods. A minute or two later, I heard a hen pitch down about 100 yards behind me and yelp softly. I couldn't believe my luck - I was now between a lone tom and his hen. I couldn't help but grin to myself as the tom inched closer and gobbled one last time. I managed to keep myself together while the tom closed to 13 yards. I decided that was sufficient and floored him with the ol' 20ga. flintlock as he stood looking toward me. It was 5:55 am and when the smoke cleared, he was down!
So, I ended up in the perfect place at just the right time. I'll admit it... I think the turkey Gods handed me this one!
He was 21.5 lbs. on the fish scale, 9 1/2" beard and 3/4" spurs.
Here's the view back toward my hide, just inside the poplars. As you can see from the blood and feathers in the foreground, Mr. Tom took it pretty hard.
I was glad I had been so bold in getting close to this bird. If I had not closed the distance, I would have ended up with the hen between me and the tom and I guarantee the story would not have had such a nice, smokey ending.
Here's one last pic, taken in sepia color. I think it suits the gun well.
__________________
