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Bob's 2023 Spring Gobbler

Last spring’s opening day of spring gobbler season did not go well. My son, Bob, and I had decided to spend the morning hunting a ridge where several gobblers had been regularly hollering prior to the season.

It is a ridge Bob is familiar with. I had hunted there with him several times in other years. We were set up before daybreak; and when a tom began gobbling not far above us, I thought we were in business.

A couple more began gobbling shortly afterwards, and they approached us quickly. Bob called each time these birds gobbled, and he soon saw them running toward us.

When they were only 60 or 70 yards away, BANG! Another hunter who was between us and the two running gobblers fired, but he missed the turkeys.

We had not known he was there. Bob spoke briefly with him. Bob and I hunted out the rest of the dank, dark morning, but the hunt had really ended.

Bob could scout only a couple of times during the week after work, and his work schedule prevented him from hunting during the mornings.

My hunting exploits didn’t turn up any gobblers to hunt on the Saturday at the end of the first week, though Bob located a big gobbler on Friday evening. “He’s roosted in a fence row on a farm outside of town [Tyrone].

We’ll have to set up early. We’ll have to cross an open field and cross a deep ditch in the dark without using flashlights to get to the only bush where we can hide to call to him.

It’ll be an ‘all or nothing hunt.’ We’ll have to get there early. We’ll have to leave my house at 3:30.”

“You’ll have to leave your house at 3:30. I’m not getting up at 2:30 in the morning. Anyhow, I don’t think one bush will provide enough cover to hide both of us.”

When I was leaving the woods at 9:30 after an unsuccessful hunt the next morning, I spotted another hunter standing beside my truck. It was Bob.

“I got him, Dad.” He hoisted a big gobbler from the bed of his truck. He weighed 20 pounds and had a 9 1/2-inch beard. “I sat down at the bush at 4:15.

When it was just about light, I called one time while the bird was in the tree. When he flew down, he was only 60 yards away. I clucked once. He eased right to me, and I shot. The hunt didn’t last long, but it was really exciting.”

 

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