I’m pretty sure that I worked this bird last season. He was hanging out on a big saddle between two fingers of planted pines. Last season, I had him come from the exact same spot, to within 60 yards, but he was weary and circled around me gobbling, waiting for the hen to come to him. After a while he finally drifted off and was gone.
I went back out there around 9:40 this morning and heard 3 birds a ways off on my walk in. I got to the logging deck where I worked him last season and called a few times on my glass call. He cut me off on my third sequence of calls, from that same saddle where I encountered that bird last season. I remained silent for a few minutes to let him simmer and he gobbled twice more on his own. I knew that he was coming as his gobbles were definitely getting louder. A second Tom got fired up in the distance as well, maybe 250 yards away. I sat against the same tree that I sat against the season prior and got my gun ready. The select cut was a lot thicker, so I was certain that he’d follow the skidder trail up from his saddle this time as opposed to circling me. That skidder trail led right to the logging deck that I was set up on.
As I sat there waiting, I began to hear him spit and drum, but still could not see him. After a few minutes, the tip of his fan and that red head were visible above the crest of the hill at the edge of the clearing. He did just as I expected. He strutted on in, putting on a show as he approached. I let him come to 40 yards and shot him with a load of Apex #8 tss as soon as he raised his head.
It was refreshing to seal the deal after the dry spell that I’ve had. Life and work have kept me out of the woods a good bit for the last few seasons, so I’ll savor every hunt and the successes or failures that accompany them as if they were my last one ever.
I went back out there around 9:40 this morning and heard 3 birds a ways off on my walk in. I got to the logging deck where I worked him last season and called a few times on my glass call. He cut me off on my third sequence of calls, from that same saddle where I encountered that bird last season. I remained silent for a few minutes to let him simmer and he gobbled twice more on his own. I knew that he was coming as his gobbles were definitely getting louder. A second Tom got fired up in the distance as well, maybe 250 yards away. I sat against the same tree that I sat against the season prior and got my gun ready. The select cut was a lot thicker, so I was certain that he’d follow the skidder trail up from his saddle this time as opposed to circling me. That skidder trail led right to the logging deck that I was set up on.
As I sat there waiting, I began to hear him spit and drum, but still could not see him. After a few minutes, the tip of his fan and that red head were visible above the crest of the hill at the edge of the clearing. He did just as I expected. He strutted on in, putting on a show as he approached. I let him come to 40 yards and shot him with a load of Apex #8 tss as soon as he raised his head.
It was refreshing to seal the deal after the dry spell that I’ve had. Life and work have kept me out of the woods a good bit for the last few seasons, so I’ll savor every hunt and the successes or failures that accompany them as if they were my last one ever.
