KyFlintlock
50 Cal.
- Joined
- Nov 5, 2004
- Messages
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I thought with Turkey Hunting on the horizon (not close enough!), that it might be nice to hear some of y'alls blackpowder turkey hunting stories.
So how bout it? Do you have any turkey stories, they don't have to be successful.
Here is one of mine to get this party started:
I eased out the point and just waited a while, enjoying the wonderful weather and the time outdoors. GOBBBBBBLE!!!! A thundering gobble came from less than 100 yards across the wooded finger. I smiled and backed away, tomorrow morning I would be back (opening day).
I setup across the wooded finger by a heavy thicket of cedar trees and waited for light. At first light he only gobbled a few times before flying down, my heart began to race and I checked my 12ga Flintlock, and pulled out my shell-call. Yelp, yelp, yelp, yelp...... GOBBBBBLE!!! He was just over the hill. I waited a few minutes, yelp, yelp, GOBBBBLE! He cut me off and I knew he was headed my way. I got positioned, and smiled as the shot would only be 15 yards, over the hogback ridge. I could hear him walking in the leaves back and forth. Yelp, yelp, GOBBBBBLE!!! GOBBBBBBBLE!!!! He was too hot and so was I.
He sounded SO close, but why wasn't he coming over to me? I heard him moving to my right, so I decided to drop down and in front of him. I moved into position against a fence and sat down, he couldn't be more than 50 yards off. Yelp, yelp, GOBBBBBLE!!! He was headed right up the fence to me.
About that time a guy stood up that was sitting in the fence and said in a normal voice "You callin' that bird?" I heard the bird run over the hill. "I own the place about 150 yards that way", he said. "Then why aren't you 150 yards over there on your own place?", I asked calmly. My ears began to get hot, but he was a good ol' country boy and I know how the loud gobble of a big Tom can make a man do things he normally wouldn't. We talked a little and he moved back over to his place.
I moved back to the thicket and waited 30 minutes before calling, but the game was over.
That eve I worked my way back out to the end ridge and let out a few yelps. Guess who was sitting in the fence row again? You guessed it, ol' "150 yards". He face turned pale and I could tell he was embarrased, but I thought about jumping him and puttin' the smack all over him. Luckily, I am not as mean as I think, so I just asked him if he had heard any birds ON HIS place. He smiled and left.
I worked a bird across the point for a little while, but he only gobbled once. An hour before dark, I moved toward the thicket and setup, leaning the flintlock across my lap and just admiring the weather. I yelped a few times, waited 10 minutes, then yelped a little more. I stared toward the field opening, then saw him. Standing there as still as a stone, staring my way. He was only 40 yards away and the "Game was back on". He dropped his head and started my way. I cocked the flintlock and tightened my grip. As he passed a large cedar I got the gun into position. He came around a blowdown, then raised his head to search for the lone hen. I pulled the trigger and the 2nd show began. Ker-Flatch- BOOM! Smoke filled the air and so did I! I was up and on him in seconds, but it didn't matter as he was down for good. It wasn't the thundering gobbler from that morning, but I was proud to get him.
As I walked out the road back to the barn, I thanked the good Lord for this bird and for the day. ...And for 2nd chances.
How bout you guys? Tell me a few....
So how bout it? Do you have any turkey stories, they don't have to be successful.
Here is one of mine to get this party started:
I eased out the point and just waited a while, enjoying the wonderful weather and the time outdoors. GOBBBBBBLE!!!! A thundering gobble came from less than 100 yards across the wooded finger. I smiled and backed away, tomorrow morning I would be back (opening day).
I setup across the wooded finger by a heavy thicket of cedar trees and waited for light. At first light he only gobbled a few times before flying down, my heart began to race and I checked my 12ga Flintlock, and pulled out my shell-call. Yelp, yelp, yelp, yelp...... GOBBBBBLE!!! He was just over the hill. I waited a few minutes, yelp, yelp, GOBBBBLE! He cut me off and I knew he was headed my way. I got positioned, and smiled as the shot would only be 15 yards, over the hogback ridge. I could hear him walking in the leaves back and forth. Yelp, yelp, GOBBBBBLE!!! GOBBBBBBBLE!!!! He was too hot and so was I.
He sounded SO close, but why wasn't he coming over to me? I heard him moving to my right, so I decided to drop down and in front of him. I moved into position against a fence and sat down, he couldn't be more than 50 yards off. Yelp, yelp, GOBBBBBLE!!! He was headed right up the fence to me.
About that time a guy stood up that was sitting in the fence and said in a normal voice "You callin' that bird?" I heard the bird run over the hill. "I own the place about 150 yards that way", he said. "Then why aren't you 150 yards over there on your own place?", I asked calmly. My ears began to get hot, but he was a good ol' country boy and I know how the loud gobble of a big Tom can make a man do things he normally wouldn't. We talked a little and he moved back over to his place.
I moved back to the thicket and waited 30 minutes before calling, but the game was over.
That eve I worked my way back out to the end ridge and let out a few yelps. Guess who was sitting in the fence row again? You guessed it, ol' "150 yards". He face turned pale and I could tell he was embarrased, but I thought about jumping him and puttin' the smack all over him. Luckily, I am not as mean as I think, so I just asked him if he had heard any birds ON HIS place. He smiled and left.
I worked a bird across the point for a little while, but he only gobbled once. An hour before dark, I moved toward the thicket and setup, leaning the flintlock across my lap and just admiring the weather. I yelped a few times, waited 10 minutes, then yelped a little more. I stared toward the field opening, then saw him. Standing there as still as a stone, staring my way. He was only 40 yards away and the "Game was back on". He dropped his head and started my way. I cocked the flintlock and tightened my grip. As he passed a large cedar I got the gun into position. He came around a blowdown, then raised his head to search for the lone hen. I pulled the trigger and the 2nd show began. Ker-Flatch- BOOM! Smoke filled the air and so did I! I was up and on him in seconds, but it didn't matter as he was down for good. It wasn't the thundering gobbler from that morning, but I was proud to get him.
As I walked out the road back to the barn, I thanked the good Lord for this bird and for the day. ...And for 2nd chances.
How bout you guys? Tell me a few....