# Your Favorite Hunt of the Year



## Gut_Pile (Jun 22, 2016)

Post em up. Long detailed stories are encouraged.


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## Gut_Pile (Jun 22, 2016)

I'll go first.

While every hunt I go on is enjoyable, and each one has some special trait that makes it stick out, you always have that one hunt at the end of the year that makes a season. 2016 overall was a great year. I got to help a youth get his first turkey ever, I got to watch my dad kill a rio at 8 steps in Texas, I watched 5 Merriam gobblers strut 30 yards from my gun barrel, and I even got to share a turkey hunt with one of my best friends to finish off the season. While all of those were great and I am thankful for those memories, it was a hunt on April 24th in the North GA mountains that really stands out, to me, as the top hunt of the year. 

Since the spring of 2010 I have been friends with a great group of guys and turkey hunters. For two springs in a row we all got to share camp down in south GA and it truly is some of the best times of my turkey hunting career. I could tell countless stories about that place and the people, but in short...it was simply epic. Since 2011 we have all shared hunts and camp, but never all together again until this season. And during those years I have shared hunts with everyone in our group except my buddy Brian. Luckily, this season, that changed.

On Friday, April 22nd, I met Brian at turkey camp right before dark. We were the only two to be able to make it up to camp Friday evening but it was still enjoyable catching up and sharing stories from the years past. The next morning at daylight, Brian went one way and I went the other. We chased birds all morning and afternoon to no avail. We were both in the action, but just couldn't make it happen. That afternoon we were joined by three more friends. James, Zach, and Wes all made it in time for the afternoon hunt. No turkeys were killed that afternoon, but we were able to catch some fish and grill ribeyes right there in camp which made for a great end to the evening. The next morning we all split up and made our way out across the property. We all were on birds and Brian even killed a great gobbler right after daylight. Zach and Wes were on a field together and had a bird coming hard shortly after daylight. That gobbler ended up getting run off by the dominant bird of the area which strutted and drummed 75 yards from Zach and Wes for a couple of hours. Around 10:00, the bird that was run off started gobbling again. We got some MRI from Zach and Wes about where the gobbler that had been ran off was located and we struck out after him. After sneaking into the pines I had the gobbler respond to a set of yelps on a trumpet call. He was on the back side of a loading deck probably 150 yards away. Brian and I made our way down to the loading deck and got to where when the bird crested the hill and came into the loading deck he should be in range. Shortly after we set up I called again, I was answered with a gobble and he was close. Probably 60-75 yards close. It wasn't seconds later I could hear drumming. Shortly after I see a red head coming over the hill at 15 yards or so, more to the right than I had expected them to come. When the turkey crested the hill, it was a jake. "You have got to be kidding me," I whispered to Brian, "it's a freakin jake". As the jake was standing there I could still here drumming. Seconds later I see that big ol gobbler head crest the hill. He came over the hill and walked straight down my gun barrel. I finally ended the party at the long distance of 12 steps. It was a great feeling and the first time I had pulled the trigger all year, and the end of the first hunt I had ever shared with my good friend Brian. We high fived, replayed the scene over and over, and snapped a few pictures. It was a classic 11:00 hunt that I will never forget.

Sharing hunts with friends old and new is by far my favorite part of turkey hunting and while I have more success hunting by myself, sharing that experience with someone that I know loves turkey hunting as much as I do and really "gets it" makes it that much better.

Brian, I know you don't frequent here much anymore, but I truly enjoyed our time in the mountains. I'm glad we all met down in South GA years ago and have been able to carry on a great friendship with such a great group of people and turkey hunters.

Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed.














The spurs from Brian's gobbler


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## Will-dawg (Jun 22, 2016)

http://forum.gon.com/showthread.php?t=868475&highlight=


Here's mine. Not only my favorite from this past season but my favorite of all time!!


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## kmckinnie (Jun 22, 2016)

Double congrats to the Dawg family.


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## sman (Jun 23, 2016)

I killed 2 birds the year to finish my slam.  On both hunts the birds strutted at less than 10'. The first in Florida was just the way the hunt had to go down due to the only option for a good setup.

The second was probably the most intense hunt of the year.

I've told this on here but still this hunt was awesome.  I was in TX and had just done something stupid. The guide had dropped me off at a feeder in TX.  I had told him that I didn't want to hunt a feeder and he said he understood but that was the only way he could find me after the hunt.  Where else would I go...by a cactus. 

So I had run off every bird within a mile and was feeling pretty bad about how everything went down. So I headed back toward the feeder to sit and wait and pout. As I neared the curve to where the feeder was I stopped short about 75 yards. I treated that feeder like an ebola patient, I didn't want to get close to it. I wanted to call in my first Rio. 

The sun was getting on up as it was around 9. The guide would be there at 10.   There was one small clump of trees in an otherwise sea of shin to knee high cactus. So that's where I sat and felt sorry for myself.

I would hit a Pecker Wrecker Ceramic slate every 10 minutes or so.  At 920, I did so and turned around a little only to run a tom off at 30 yards.  This really helped my self esteem. As his dust was settling I ripped another series of calls. Gobble way off. I wait a couple of minutes... gobble a little closer. A few more and gobble even closer.  Closing fast. He had gone from 400 or 500 out to 100 quick.

Then I see his fan sticking out over the cactus maybe 85 away.  Here is where the problem comes in. The clump of trees I'm sitting in is not good for where he is coming from. I had scooted around to face him but had to put a small tree between my legs due to the trees being so tight. I had to pick a side of the road he was about to be in. He was strutting left to right so I picked right. 

The bird is now at 75. If he keeps going right he goes to the feeder and out of range and sight. He doesn't he keeps coming my way.  I need him to take maybe 2 steps.  When all of a sudden these black deer come running down the road from behind me at full speed. They run right at the tom 30 yards away.  He takes flight.

While he is in the air, I am positive this hunt is over.  He flies up and toward me and lands maybe 3' to my left.  I can't swing due to the tree between my legs. I'm pointed right and the bird I need to complete my slam is literally 3' to my left. I saw all of this playing out in slow motion and had sense enough to tilt my head down and away from the bird.

I can see his feet. I can see he has really good spurs. I can tell he is facing me.  I'm positive he is looking me over from 3' away.  Then he gobbles. I'm talking about right into the side of my head.  When. He stretches his neck out, his beak is maybe a foot from my ear drum. I became mannequin man. Didn't even flinch. 5 seconds later he does it again and goes into full strut.

That's when I see movement down the road.  It's a tom. No 2. No 15. They are all jakes making the turn in the road, racing each other to the feeder.  In the time it takes me to look them all over, the tom 3' has disappeared. I have no idea where he is. A couple minutes pass and he gobbles 100 behind me.

I turn around to face him. Hit the call and he is 150.  The jakes answer me and start coming down the road behind me.  Some of them run past me. I am trying to keep tabs on where they all are at. I hit the call again. He answers at 100 coming back. Thank the Lord.  I hit again he is at 50. No tree to save him this time. I watch as he breaks a small rolling hill of cactus.  He is coming.  But now I'm starting to think, is that him or a jake. He struts sideways at 40, no help. Cactus blocks his beard and spurs all the way to 20.  Do or die time. I figured it had to be him and let the 20 gauge eat. He goes down in the sea of cactus. I jump and run to him. Immediately I see a spur 1 1/4" long kick out. Guessed right.


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## goblr77 (Jun 23, 2016)

Great stories fellas.


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## goblr77 (Jun 23, 2016)

Friday afternoon before the youth opener, I watched a lone gobbler strutting in a field with a single hen a couple hours before dark. My daughter and I were there long before light the next morning and set up in the edge of the field. I set out an Avian X jake and a hen 25 yards or so in front of us. I normally don't use decoys a lot but it helps to take the bird's attention off a 10 year old and also can put him in her line of sight without much movement involved. As the sky started to lighten, I barely heard a bird gobble WAY off. He was behind us and across a paved road intersection. I kept waiting on the bird we were after to gobble and was disappointed not to hear anything else. I decided to sit tight anyway in case he was there and just tight lipped. A single hen eventually flew down in the field 300 yards to our right. I was hoping the gobbler would fly down between us and her but he never did. He wasn't there. The gobbler that was so far across the road was the one I saw in the field the afternoon before. Something must have bumped him. I decided to sit tight and aggravate the hen a little while before we headed to another property or back home. I threw out a few series of loud yelps on a pot and the hen started slowly heading our way. The gobbler across the road answered my yelps as well but was still so far I didn't think there was any way he would come. Well, time dragged on and he would gobble whenever I called or once every 45 minutes to an hour on his own, and be a little closer each time. The hen would feed around in one spot for a while then slowly head our way until she stopped again to peck around. She eventually got within 75 yards and saw the decoys. The hen started strutting like a gobbler and attacked the Avian X hen. She knocked it halfway over and hung around for a good 30 minutes pecking it and doing a fighting purr. That's only the second time I've seen a hen strutting in twenty years of turkey hunting. When the hen finally got tired of abusing the deke and walked off a ways, I hit her with another series of yelps and she came back. The gobbler answered the yelps directly behind us. He was within 150 yards this time but across a thicket and a creek. I popped off some loud cuts and the hen started mouthing back at me. I heard wingbeats behind us and just knew the gobbler was about to land in our laps. I looked up and realized it was another hen. She landed 20 yards in front of us. The hens checked one another out and eventually started feeding back to our right. The gobbler was now alone and obviously upset about it. I laid down another series of yelps and he started gobbling a bunch and moving down the creek behind us and to our left. He was trying to figure out how to cross it. He eventually moved so far down the creek that I was afraid he'd left us. I put in a diaphragm call and cut like crazy. He couldn't stand it. He probably gobbled 25 times then went silent. I knew he was coming then. The next time he gobbled he was close. He was now in the field. I could finally see him. I told my daughter to get down on the gun and push off the safety. He was to our left, the dekes out front, and the hens were to our right. It was about to get good. He started heading our way fast and started strutting over the jake deke. I told my daughter to "shoot him whenever you're ready." I didn't get "ready" out of my mouth good before the gun went off and the gobbler's neck snapped back. We hugged and went out to look at the bird. He was a good one. 22 + lbs. I looked down at my watch and it was 11:40. That's the longest hunt I've ever had and one of the two best.


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## chefrific (Jun 23, 2016)

My favorite hunt of the year was during my first trip to hunt Rio's in southwest Oklahoma.
It was the 3rd evening, when I shot my second bird of the trip.
I was hunting with a great friend that I haven't seen in over 20 years on a beautiful piece of property.  We drove in to an area that was mainly mesquite and grass scrub but had several draws full of cottonwoods that that the birds like to roost in.
Walking in to our first setup, we came up on a horned toad.  I quoted the old Indian from the Outlaw Josey Wales, saying "A horned toad can tell you which way to go."  Laughing, we walked in the direction the toad went and setup on the edge of a small opening on the edge of the farthest draw around 5pm.  Put a lone hen decoy out in front of us and started with a little calling.  It was windy, so I pulled out my box call and let loose some aggressive cutting and excited yelps.  Instantly we heard a group of birds over a hill in front of us hammer.  Called again, and they hammered again, then a bird gobbled behind us, then another group to our right fired up.  Each group of gobblers firing up the other.  It was insane.
After about 30 minutes of this.  I spotted the first group coming in over the crest of the hill in front of us.  Turned out to be a group of jakes with a few hens. The jakes strutted and put on a show in front of us for over 30 minutes while the rio hens pecked at my eastern hen decoy as if to say "who is this strange looking woman?"  They eventually eased off and all was quiet.  It was about an hour from sunset and my buddy suggested that we ease over and slip down into the draw to our right and setup.  Hoping to catch some birds coming in to roost.  By this time, the wind had calmed and we eased in and I started with a series of yelps from my mouth call.  Instantly we found ourselves right between two groups of birds hammering back.  One group to our left, one to our right.
My buddy told me to get aggressive, so I did and it worked.  Both groups were coming and then all of a sudden after a raunchy series of cuts and yelps I hear my buddy sitting behind and to my right whispering loudly "Gobbler Gobbler Gobbler, Running to you from the right!" "Coming fast, get ready!"  
All of the sudden, I see a bird and beard dangling running full sprint down a fence line just in front of me.  Just as he was almost directly in front, I cut again to get him to stop.  He did, but right behind a tree.  I gave a cluck and purr and he took a few steps in half strut with his neck stretched out as if to say, here you go.  One shot and he dropped right there.
A fun, fast paced exciting hunt full of gobbling, strutting spitting and drumming on some Oklahoma's finest property with a good old friend.  Doesn't get much better!


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## wvdawg (Jun 23, 2016)

Great stories all!  Will-dawg, don't know how I missed this earlier, but congratulations to Coleman and yourself for an unforgettable hunt!  

I'll not repost here, but 2016 was a fantastic year with an opening day double, followed by helping my son get one the following weekend.  Then the finish to my World Slam in Campeche, followed by helping Nick get his first Rio Grande the following weekend in Texas.  Finally tagging out in GA with a week left to go and being able to hunt the last weekend with the camera and following Nick around the woods.

Congrats again to everyone who had the opportunity to experience and share in the great outdoors!
DJ


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## mike1225 (Jun 23, 2016)

I enjoyed reading all the stories. Congrats to all!


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## nick_o_demus (Jun 24, 2016)

*any hunt with pops is the best...*

But here are my choices for the year. Also my only two kills for the year, lol!

http://forum.gon.com/showthread.php?t=869067&highlight=

http://forum.gon.com/showthread.php?t=870429

Can't wait for next year!


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## sboss1 (Aug 9, 2016)

Favorite day, called this bird in for my oldest son to drop.


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## Timber1 (Sep 19, 2016)

*third time the charm*

Opening morning I hiked into an area on Cohutta WMA that lost motorized access during late winter, early spring storms. It was a long steep hike in but we had seen a nice gobbler in there near seasons end the year before. I was hopeful he was still in there and knew I had the area to myself.
What should have been about an hours hike turned into about an hour and a half due to me not being in shape for mountain hunting yet. After the initial climb up to the ridge I would follow to my hunting area I stopped for a much needed rest. As I sat there sucking in oxygen and feeling the burn in my calfs and thighs I knew I wouldnt make it to my spot before flydown. I was up pretty high and on the point of a ridge and as I sat there a bird gobbled from the roost on the ridge to the west of me. A young me would have been down the ridge fighting thru the laurel then the rhododendron and up the other side. The present me scoffed at such a foolish move. Another 45 minutes and a few more rests and I was entering the area I wanted to hunt. I had dropped off the ridge a couple hundred feet onto an old logging road that made my walking quieter and easier. As I was picking thru my mouth calls and shells looking for the lucky combination I heard a bird gobble up ahead of me. I could tell he was on the ground and not very far off to one side or the other of the old logging road. Right about the same spot he was using last year. My first impulse was to call to him immediately from the road and set up alongside it and bust him as he walked in. My second thought told me not to rush this bird with calling, wait for another gobble to pinpoint his location, and to find a better setup location since the woods offered no concealment this early in the season. He gobbled again and I could tell he was on the right side of the road which dropped off downhill pretty quick. I could walk up the roadbed safely since he would be down under the road and wouldnt spot me. I slipped on up the road very slowly listening for another gobble. As I stopped once to listen I thought I heard some commotion in the leaves. After a couple minutes I was certain I was hearing turkeys scratching. A few minutes later and I could tell they were moving closer. There was a cut bank about four feet tall right up ahead of me and a small tree had blown down right along the top edge. I was going to use this as my setup. I got into position and waited. They were getting closer and closer. In fact the were in shotgun range but the downhill slope was hiding them. They were going to feed past me without my ever seeing them. It was then that I noticed the main body of birds were by me and making noise but lagging behind was another sound of scratching and walking. My experience told me this was the gobbler and I needed to concentrate on his noise. I finally saw the main group of birds. A mix of hens, and young gobblers. I saw a couple jakes and some with longer beards. I put them out of my mind because the lagging bird was close, very close. I am now thinking I am going to kill this bird without making the first call. What I didnt realize was just how close he was. Right in front of me a little to my left was a pretty big hardwood. This tree is what had been blocking me from seeing the lagger, not the slope. He stepped out from behind that tree in full strut, his head shining white, glowing white actually. I knew at such close range I was about to be made. He stepped behind a pine and I adjusted to shoot when he stepped out. I was super focused on that spot. What seemed like a long time but probably only a few seconds and he didnt show. I shifted my gaze to the left and saw that glowing head staring at me from a three inch gap between the pine and a smaller pine that was growing right beside it. I hadnt noticed the gap before this moment. He flew up into a tree and of course he was blocked from my view by other trees. After a minute he sailed out down into the hollow. When he flew up all the other birds flew as well. Man, what a view watching all those birds come up off the ground.

to be continued...


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## Timber1 (Sep 19, 2016)

The dark hardwood was blocking my view as the gobbler got close. The forked pine is to the right. 12 yards was the distance.
Well...the photos wont load. Too big i think. Sorry for that.


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## Timber1 (Sep 19, 2016)

Cropped photos. Dark hardwood hid the gobbler. Gap in tree got me busted. You can see the forked pine in background of picture.


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## Timber1 (Sep 20, 2016)

I didnt get a chance to get back after this gobbler until April 17. I had a few hours to hunt him that evening. After the hike in there was only a short time until fly up. I thought i might hear him fly up or gobble from the roost. As i was walking into his area i spooked something off to the left side of the road. I heard it making a fuss in the leaves as it left the logging road and went off down into the hollow. Deer, bear, hog, turkey, i had no idea. Nevertheless i didnt hear any roost gobbling or wingbeats at flyup time. I did stop on my way out and examined the area where i spooked something earlier. I did see some fresh scratching there along the roadside and a little ways further what looked like wing drags from a strutting bird. I went with the assumption that i had scared my gobbler out of the road and he would be roosted down in there somewhere. The next morning I would be back and hopefully he would be where i thought he was.
I made sure i was up and out of the house extra early the next morning. It was a beautiful morning. No wind, low humidity and clear as a bell. The walk in was still brutal but I was on a mission. I arrived in good time and waited for day to break. The sky lightened, the crows cranked up, and i thought any minute now i would hear this bird sound off. The minutes ticked by and nothing. Prettty soon flydown had passed and i had not heard anything that sounded turkey. No gobbles, no hen talk, no wingbeats. Still going with the belief( but a little less sure) that the gobbler was off to my left I called off into the hollow. No answer. I sat there and waited thinking he might come in silent. After 30 minutes i was pretty sure it was safe to get up. I was getting disheartened but have been doing this long enough to know that things can happen rather quickly in the turkey woods. I was by no means ready to give up. I was still thinking the gobbler was off to the left side of the road. Just not quite so sure now.
My plan now was to move slowly up the road and call off into the hollow every couple hundred yards. Maybe i could coax a gobble out of him or he might just gobble on his own within my hearing. I was up the road a good ways, almost to where it turns back north and out of his area. I had stopped twice and called with no luck. It was pushing 9 am and starting to warm up. I stopped to shed a shirt and have a bfast bar. As i was pulling off my shirt a mouth call fell out. It was a woodhaven i thought i had lost. Not sure what its called but its a triple reed with a v cut. Not being the superstitious kind but also not being one to disregard something obvious, i loosened up the stuck reeds and walked off the road a few feet and yelped down into the hollow. I was answered by a gobble. He was not close. Across a branch and up on the side of the next ridge. But i was in the game at last. Now what to do? Go down in the hollow, cross the noisy branch and get in his side and risk running into him if he is coming, and also lose being able to hear him if he gobbles again while i am moving. Or stay where i am and try to coax him across. As i am thinking out strategies i hear something walking up out of the hollow. Whatever it is it is coming quick. I am thinking no way this gobbler has come that far so fast, but the closer it gets the more sure i am it is a turkey coming in. I have no time for a set up so i just kneel down in the road and get my shotgun pointed towards the approaching sound. Its not one, but two gobblers. But not gobblers, jakes. They come in to about 25 yards and make me. The turn and walk away, not sure what they saw, but not liking it. When they get out of sight they start making some jake noises. Not really putts but more like some excited clucks. Im not really sure now if they are going to ruin my hunt or help it. I ease back off the road and get set up on the other side. I want my gobbler, if he comes to have to come out on the road bed. I wait about 15 minutes and nothing happens. I decide i am to close to where i called from and want to move up the road a little further. Before i move i go back to where i called from and yelp again. Another gobble. But it sounds like he hasnt moved much. I move up the road about 30 yards and set up again on the other side. I wait. No more gobbles and i dont call anymore. I wait. A little bit later a crow flies into a tree down about where i called from and starts a racket. In between his fussing i am listening for a gobble. The crow flies off cawing as he leaves. I hear no gobbles but i do hear something. I hear something walking in the leaves. Then all is quiet. Then i hear it. A gobbler drumming. I dont hear the spit just faint drumming. And then i see him. He is behind some thick stuff about 15 yards below where i called from. I can see him strut then break strut and stretch his head and neck up to look around. Every time he looks it seems he is staring at me. I am not in position to shoot so when he pulls his head down and struts i move my gun a little. Soon i have my sights on him but he stays behind some brush. When he stretches up to look i think what a tall gobbler im seeing and surely he is going to bust me. But he doesnt. But he does disappear. One second he is there the next he is gone. He couldnt find his hen so he left. I have the gobbler shakes and am thinking what next. Thats when he lets out a loud cluck down under the hill. I know he is still interested and looking. I let out a single cluck and he gobbles. I know exactly where he is and get my gun repositioned. I hear him walking. I see him. About ten yards closer coming thru the briars and scrub. Man he is a big mountain gobbler. I see his beard and think yeah buddy, come on. He stops and struts one time and now he is steady walking. He jumps down into the road bed and doesnt stop. He is going to cross not walk up the road. How far is he? 45 yards? 50 yards? I got to stop him and shoot. It may be further than i like but he is not coming closer and its wide open all the way to him. I cluck to him and he stops. He stretches out his neck and looks dead at me. He knows i won. I put the fire sight right on his bottom white waddle and squeeze. Down he goes. He is flopping up a storm trying to fight off death. I am ready to shoot again but i see he cant get his head off the ground and know he is finished. I step off the distance. 47 long strides. A fifty yard kill. A long time since i killed a bird that far.  I have just killed the dominant bird in an area that i cut my teeth on as a young turkey hunter. An area where my dad and his dad and his brothers hunted. It was a special bird and a special hunt. One i am not likely to ever forget.


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## Gut_Pile (Sep 20, 2016)

Enjoyed the read Timber. Thanks for posting


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## ryanwhit (Sep 20, 2016)

That was awesome timber, thanks!


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## herb mcclure (Sep 21, 2016)

*Your favotite hunt*

Good hunt Timber, sure do wish I could hunt using my ears, like you did. Nonetheless, congratulation on a great mountain gobbler. Note that color of this bird, just like the old breed had years ago. 
herb mcclure


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## antnye (Sep 21, 2016)

Great read timber!  I laid eyes on this gobbler and he was a brute. Making me Jones for the spring.


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## sman (Sep 21, 2016)

Nice hunt!


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## Gaswamp (Sep 24, 2016)

Timber, way to get me worked up for deer season.....NOT


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## brittonl (Sep 24, 2016)

Enjoyed the story Timber, thanks for sharing & nice job


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## Burney Mac (Sep 29, 2016)

Good read Timber!


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## M Sharpe (Oct 1, 2016)

This year made the third year I made the trek to the mountains of North Georgia to hunt with Mr. Herb. I know this mountain hunting is nothing new to a lot of you guys, but for a swamp hunter it was a big change.  I can walk for miles down home in Southeast Georgia, but the mountains were a physical challenge for me, over weight and out of shape!! Mr. Herb's not even breathing hard!!
We'd leave our meeting place at 4:00 am, drive for an hour, then climb for an hour!! This ol' boy would be sweated down by the time we peaked out on top! I'm glad we got there before daylight. That way the raspy breathing and pounding heartbeat in my ears would have time to subside before the gobblers started sounding off!! 
Our first morning in the mountains found us headed to a spot where I had worked a bird the year before. Reaching the top, we listened until well after daylight with nothing making a peep! We headed over to the next mountain to look around for some turkey sign. Well, we didn't go back the way we came. Mr Herb said we could make better time just dropping right off the side and heading straight down. I don't know how many of you have bad knees, but those of you that do, know that going down hill is more painful than going up hill!! We get over to the other mountain and see just a little scratching. Mr Herb had already told me that there wasn't a whole lot of sign in his stomping grounds this year.
Day two finds us on a knob that Mr Herb has killed, and videoed, a right smart of turkeys. A lot of these guys that were successful hunters liked to call them "calling places." 



These turkeys, for whatever reason always seemed to come to particular spots to do their breeding and showing out for the hens. I'll elaborate more on this in a bit. We're on this knob waiting for gobbling time, when I hear a bird fire off over on and around the side of another mountain. He's a pretty good ways off so we ease down off that knob and set up in a saddle between the two mountains. This saddle is pretty wide open with just a little vegetation in the bottom. We set up just were it starts heading back up. I give this bird a few clucks followed by a few yelps and he fires back at me. Wait a few and do the same thing again. He fires back again. I wait a little longer before repeating my calling. This time when he gobbles, he's on the ground and a bout half way to us. It's not long before I see him quartering down that mountain. He gets to the far edge of that saddle and gobbles. After a few minutes I call, he gobbles. I'm not wanting to over call to this gobbler, so I let him gobble on his own a few times. This goes on for about an hour. I've been seeing bits and pieces of him over on the other side. Well...he goes quite. I'm really looking now. I'm not wanting this joker to just appear standing within 15 yards and off to the side catching me off guard!!! Well, that doesn't happen either! He just vanishes!! Going back down the mountain, we stop a little ways down, set our selves down on a log and discuss our hunt. It was then that Mr. Herb told me he would have never called to that bird again after I saw him quartering across that mountain. He'd already traveled a far piece getting to that point. Hmmmm...that calling style had worked the weekend before down in Ft. Stewart.


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## M Sharpe (Oct 1, 2016)

Day 3
The morning breaks clear up on that same knob with crows hollering everywhere. That old gobbler sounds off again. Same place he was yesterday! Mr. Herb sets out his old decoy out on that flat of that knob. He's got his video camera and I tell him that I'm probably not the best one to be filming; because, I'm not one for letting a gobbler prance around too much! I'm bound and determined to kill this gobbler today..and I know just how I'm going to do it too! Instead of setting up at that saddle, we stay on the knob. A little more vegetation than the saddle had. He was going to have to come looking for me instead of standing on the other side of that saddle a looking where he should have been seeing that hen calling!!
I let him gobble a few times on his own, then I put my old trusty wing bone to my lips and give him a couple of clucks followed by a few yelps. He fires off. I wait a few more minutes...he's done gobbled a few more times on his own. I finally do the same thing I'd just done again. He answers again. I'm sitting right behind that ol' shell tree. I put my call down and vow not to pick it up again!! He gobbles a few more times on his own then goes silent. It is all I can do not to pick that bone up again and just give a few soft clucks. I leave the call hanging, straining to hear anything from him. Last time I'd heard him, he was over on the other side of that saddle. About 10 minutes go by when I hear that sound that every turkey hunter in the world loves to hear...fitz voooom, fitz voooom!! I see the tip of that tail appear over the bushes, he's coming up a little draw. I see his white head appear. He's done walked past the decoy, which he couldn't see until he got even with me. That ol' boy makes a 90 degree turn right towards me and takes about 5 more steps before my shotgun jumps from the recoil! There lies my first mountain gobbler!! I don't know how I came out of that little folding chair so fast. For a guy with two bad knees, I came out of that chair at amazing speed! When I looked back, it was upside down!! That hunt lasted about 30 minutes!! It was a mile and three-eights up to that knob for a 30 minute hunt! Was it worth it??? Yes and much more!!!! I've hunted Rios in Texas, but this hunt meant far more to me than any Rio hunt! One, I got to hunt again with my very good friend Mr. Herb; and two, I got to kill a true mountain turkey. Not one that is just in the mountainous region of the state. I know a lot of you do this every year and I envy you guys!!
It seems something finally sunk in...a quote from Leon Johenning's book, "Little did I know of the years and years of devotion it would take, learning to become a turkey hunter".



This is what the old boy thought he had found...



But instead, this is what he found......


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## yellowhammer73 (Oct 1, 2016)

http://forum.gon.com/showthread.php?t=867880&highlight=

Absolutely my favorite hunt.... EVER!!!


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## Jakemaster (Oct 2, 2016)

Mark, that was a great hunt with Mr. Herb. I'm one of those who hunt only mountain birds here in Southwest Va. and would surely get lost in those Ga. Swamps. What a treasure Mr. Herb is to anyone who wants learn about mtn. Turkeys. I might not get the story straight, but I think he told me he visited Leon Johenning in Va. And while he was there he hunted in Craig County and killed two or maybe three gobblers on public land. That's quite a feat on strange ground.


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## herb mcclure (Oct 4, 2016)

*Your favotite hunt*

I would like to comment a-bit, about my friend, Mark Sharpe, along with some other things.  Mark recently  posted a hunt which he and I made together.  A couple of comments that I want to share about Mark first are.  Mark Sharpe can use a turkey-bone in the woods and call more like a real turkey hen does, than anyone else that I have ever hunted with; and that includes the late Ben Rogers Lee; whom I hunted three-days with.  My other comment about Mark is :  he is the most respectable turkey-man I know especially with respect for our wild turkeys.  He really respect all turkeys regardless of their back-ground and appreciates turkeys everywhere.

Very few people have ever hunted turkeys with me more than one day.  My reason for this lack of extra- times hunting is: a lack of respect for our wild turkeys.  Only about six turkey-men have ever been my real hunting partners, when hunting wild turkeys over the years.

When one has hunted years and years in remote mountain places, as I have done, where killing just one gobbler in a season is quite an honor, even among the local turkey hunters.  No doubt, this has created much respect for the gobblers living there.  Where as, in places where wild turkeys could be more easily taken, even without any knowledge of  turkey-behavior or turkey lore. This has causes must less respect for turkey hunting there and this is where turkey-calling becomes the game now-and it is now called turkey hunting; without really having to hunt.

Mark and I have not really had a chance to talk with each other very much about our turkey hunt since last Spring.  
For instance, I did not realize that he had knee problems.  If I had known at the time I would not have descended down that steep-mountainside which he told about.  we would have gone back down the more gentle switch-back trail that we came up in the dark; without a light showing.

Another thing he left-off about our 4A.M. meeting was, he failed to tell all of you was that I had to wake at 2 A.M. and leave my White County home by 3:A.M. to drive for another hour to meet him by 4A.M.  This has always been the norm for me whenever I'm hunting very remote wild turkeys. 

This brings up now how I had to learn to hunt because of not having good hearing.  I did not even hear Mark's gobbler   (which he killed), the day he killed him.   The day before, when listening from on of my favorite calling-places, Mark said:"I hear one over yonder around the backside of that mountain."  I could not hear anything.  I was only carrying my video-camera to film and I knew the best place for us o call that gobbler was right where we were now. However, it is thick there on that top, and hard to video a gobbler after leaf-out.  I ask Mark some more about where the gobbles were at and I decided to go down into an open gap, where videoing would be good; providing this gobbler would come through an open gap.  No, he did not cooperate by doing so, however; he did come to within nearly a hundred yards of us and I got to hear him gobbing .  For this I am very thankful because lots of years I never ever hear a gobble at all!  Even back when I hunted and called  them to me to kill!

What in the world do I mean about a "Calling Place"?  I was told of such a thing or place by my old mentor, Arthur Truelove, some fifty years ago.  He allowed to me that after turkey flocks tend to break-up especially the dominant boss gobbler will choose a place of his liking to do his strutting, gobbling and displaying to draw turkey hens to his strutting place.  The place where Mark and I were listening from both mornings he heard the gobbling is the original place where Arthur revealed to me about the strutting-ground strategy and was the same place and same year Arthur killed the first gobbler that was ever killed between us with a Leon's turkey caller which was used by me to call the turkey that he killed back in 1966.

Yes, a gobbler will strut almost anywhere as some people will say, but strutting-grounds are his special breeding place where he and the hens both hang-out.  
This is what yellowhammer 73 has also learned from the strutting marks at the power-line where his wife got her first gobbler.

After learning about the importance of a strutting-place and not being capable of going to a gobble even if I did hear one. I soon figured-out for myself that I was better off listening and calling from a strutting-ground rather than going after a gobble, which I could not tell where it was at!  These preferred strutting-grounds are what I have come to term a "Calling Place".  No, this is not an old mountain custom-way to hunt gobblers, only Arthur Truelove was the only one I ever heard talk about this way of hunting.

Today's fast world with all the punch, punch, key-pads and styles of fast living does not lead hunters to call and wait very long for something to happen. I have said this before :"A mountain gobbler can and does have more patience than most anything I ever knew of".  Just ask Mark Sharpe about how much patience that mountain gobbler had the first time he called to him when he was out of-place; from his preferred strutting-ground.
herb mcclure


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## Killer Kyle (Nov 30, 2016)

I'll resurrect this old thread. My favorite hunt this past season was one on which I did not kill a bird. I hunted the a.m. on Chattahoochee WMA one day in April. Came up empty handed, and went to scout for bears a little while on a ridge too, then came back down for the afternoon/evening. I went over to a food plot on the way down to check it because I had been seeing hens there in the afternoon and had seen a gobbler there a couple times. Later in the evening, the turkeys started filing into the field and a little while later a big gobbler showed up. I had always heard of a "boss hen" but didn't really know what that meant, and I had never before witnessed any truly dominant hen behavior. I started noticing a hen chasing off other hens when they got near the gobbler. He was just feeding and minding his own business. After a while, the hen tried to run off another hen, and a fight broke out. I had never seen hens fight before. The hens were kind of jumping up in the air at each other. Looked like gobblers trying to flog one another. They were also beating each other with their wings. The gobbler got so railed up that he began running straight at them in full strut over and over again. All the hens were purring like crazy and you could hear the fighting hens fight purring at one another. When the fight was over, the one boss hen ran that other hen all around that field ten times over. I tried fight purring off in the woods line, but to no avail. Neither the Tom or the boss hen would even lift their head at my calling. I never thought to get it on video because I was so engulphed in what was going on. I have never seen such turkey behavior before anywhere, let alone in the mtns. It was an awesome sight and memory I will never forget!!


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## herb mcclure (Dec 1, 2016)

*Your Favorite Hunt*

Kyle, that was a great story to share here. Yes in turkeys of both sexes, there is a pecking order of dominance. I have witness this many times at my home place and in some food places too in the woods. But never to the existence's you saw this happen. Again, that was some show you saw.   

Keep-up the good hunting; you are doing good.


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## fountain (Dec 1, 2016)

Mr herb, what part of N Ga do you consider to have true "native turkeys"?  I'm planning to go up there this coming spring and give them a try


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## ryanwhit (Dec 1, 2016)

I had a few good ones this year, but this is the one that sticks out the most.  It was the second Saturday of GA's season and I was on some familiar NGA public.  I had hunted it the afternoon of the opener and located a bird.  My plan was to return to this bird.  However, as I approached the jump off point, there was already a truck there.  There's a bunch of acres accessible from there, but I didn't know which way that guy had gone and I hadn't passed another vehicle in several miles, so I turned around and went a mile or so back down the road and parked.  I bailed off the mountain to see what I could do, now well away from where I suspected the bird from the previous week roosted.  I eased through the dark woods quickly but quietly.  I stopped to listen for a minute and a bird gobbled far below me on the flat ground.  I had to cover some ground.  I got it in gear and sidehilled my way down towards this bird.  He was gobbling regularly, which was nice, so I could pretty easily keep up with him on my approach.  The steep ground began to give way to some gentle slopes with mature oaks and hickories, and below that on flatter ground still is where the hardwoods gave way to a mature pine stand which is where this joker was roosted.  I saw about where he was and saw about where I wanted to be and I picked my way there slowly and cautiously.  I got there and waited for him to gobble again before I made a noise.  When he did, I gave a soft tree yelp on the trumpet, to which he gobbled again.  I waited a few minutes and used a wing and did a soft flydown.  Again he gobbled.  I got the gun up and waited.  

But nothing happened, except for his continued gobbling about every 45 seconds.  I remember wishing that he would shut up - I was sure that some other hunter would hear him and come to him.  After another 5 minutes of this, and with it being plenty light enough for him to be on the ground, I was ready for the situation to escalate.  I just wanted to make sure he knew that I was on the ground, so I gave one series of a 4 or 5 note yelp softly on the trumpet.  He hammered.  On the gun again and ready.  But again, he stayed in the tree and gobbled.  And gobbled.  And gobbled.  By now it was crystal clear to me that this bird had been hunted and boogered and boogered pretty good.  I didn't figure calling at him a bunch would work, and he knew where I was, so I stayed put, scratching in the leaves periodically.  He gobbled at the rate of once every 45 to 60 seconds.  I strained my eyes to see him in the trees but I could not.  I thought about trying to sneak up there closer as there was good cover of a nearby thicket that I could use, but I figured that would prove to not have been prudent.  About 35 minutes into the ordeal I broke, and I pulled out a slate pot from Redbeard and made some soft pretty purrs and clucks on it.  Of course he gobbled at that, and he continued to gobble.  Until finally, he stopped.

Minutes had passed and he had not gobbled, and he had gobbled every minute for over an hour.  Did he fly out the other way?  Finally I saw a bird in a tree about 80 yards away.  Was it him?  How did he get there?  That's not where he was gobbling from.  (Looking back I realize that when he stopped gobbling minutes before, he must have began tree hopping to cover some 75 to 100 yards to get to that spot).  I reached for the binos, but when I got them up, I could not find the bird.  I put them down and continued to scan the trees for a minute or 2 before I heard  VRROOOOOOM.  Cheek on the gun, safety off.  He spit and drummed again before he came into view, and when i finally did see him he was slick, head up and looking, and then back into strut with a loud drum.  He crossed behind some brush, well in range but I did not want to shoot through it.  He stopped nervously behind it, but then drummed again and finally cleared it.  When he did, he had a good view of the open woods where the hen he had been hearing was contently feeding for an hour, and she was not there.  He stood tall, gave a nervous sounding cluck, and then I shot him.  What an intense hunt!  He turned out to be a nice bird.

Upon cleaning him later, I found out that he had indeed been hunted and boogered by a hunter before.  Perhaps someone else had found him during the first week of the season, but more than that, he and I had met before.  Last year on the day before Easter, I was on an afternoon hunt about half a mile away.  A bird came in silent.  He appeared in front of me, walking into view from out of a small dip behind a little ridge.  He went into half strut and spit, walked behind a tree while I moved the gun, and when he came out I shot him.  He should have been dead right there, but he flopped/rolled down the mountain, me giving chase while trying to reload the single shot, never more than 30 yards behind him and sometimes as close as 20.  I closed the breech of the gun at the same time I stumbled and fell into a beech tree, and when I got back to my knees, the bird was gone.  This bird is the reason why I switched to an O/U this year.  If I'd had a second shot, I would have killed him then.  If I hadn't pulled the first shot, I would have killed him then.  But that's not how this story played out, and I killed him a year later and a half a mile away, and I am confident in saying that because I picked old #9 tss out of his breast meat.


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## Toddmann (Dec 1, 2016)

First hunt of the year with my youngest was the best hunt of the year! Nothing better than being the tree to lean on as your son steadies the .410 on his 1st longbeard. To make it even more sweeter, it was the 1st longbeard ever harvested off my farm.


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## herb mcclure (Dec 1, 2016)

*Mossyheads turkeys ?*

Mr. Fountain, I have said several times before; there are no pure original native mountain turkeys left anymore. However, there are still some mountain turkeys left, which are in-trolent to man and man made civilization the way the old native turkeys were. Go to Mossyheads Turkey thread and on post #56, which I made; I explain about an area  where I have hunted for 60 years, and this turkey that lives there is the most original native left that I know of. 
herb mcclure


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## GLS (Dec 2, 2016)

Toddmann said:


> First hunt of the year with my youngest was the best hunt of the year! Nothing better than being the tree to lean on as your son steadies the .410 on his 1st longbeard. To make it even more sweeter, it was the 1st longbeard ever harvested off my farm.


Ding! Ding! Ding!  We have a winner.  Not just the best hunt of the year, but there will never be a more memorable one for you or your son.  Gil


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## whitetailfreak (Dec 19, 2016)

http://forum.gon.com/showthread.php?t=869665

This Cohutta WMA bird was one that won't soon be forgotten. I chased him flippin' floppin', and rollin' straight off the side of that mountain. Thank the Lord for old rd beds.


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## oops1 (Dec 19, 2016)

Been tryin to get my son his first since he was 6..he's 12 now. Went youth weekend with a fan.. It really seemed too easy.. 5-6 hammering on the roost and two saw the fan after they hit the ground.. They ran at a sprint to 10 yards. It was awesome and felt like cheating all rolled into one.


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## oops1 (Dec 19, 2016)

One more


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