I have been trying to get my Dad out in the turkey woods for years but it has never happened. He was a long time hunter but slowly lost time in the woods raising 4 boys and running a business. As the youngest I only caught the tail end of my Dad's hunting adventures. Most of them were me just observing and learning. 25 years have passed since I hunted with him and as I have come to learn he is not getting any younger. I told myself I was not going to let another Spring come and go without sharing a morning with him on the old oak ridge. He was the only person I was planning on being with opening morning and I picked him up about 5:20. I knew right where the birds "should" be based on years of hunting that ridge. That ridge is steep and the birds roost right on top. The setup always taunts me with the same question. Will they fly left or right? Over the years it has proven to be a total guessing game. I decided to set up right on top hoping to get my dad as close to some roost gobbling as possible, thinking that often is the highlight of the morning. We heard our first gobble as I unzipped my blind (5:40). GOBBLE! It scared both of us and we quickly got inside. The warm weather did not disappoint and the woods were filled with a chorus singing my favorite spring song. We could hear around 10 birds and as expected the birds pitched off the ridge but went both left and right. This is not typical but this was more birds than I had ever heard on the ridge. Silence took over once they were on the ground. We could hear a random gobble every so often just to let us know they were not getting closer. I had gotten a few responses but they were clearly with hens so I just shut up and waited. At about 745 I hit the call and was answered by a hen in the creek bottom. I eventually made her mad and she was on heading our way and was yelping extremely loud all the way. As she was heading our way we heard a gobble to our right about 150 yards. The hen and the and the gobbler were soon heading right towards us from opposite directions. I keep imitating her and he keep closing the distance gobbling all the way. I was worried the hen would pass us and cut him off before he got into range. However when she saw my decoy she just stopped and stared it down, this held her up long enough for him to make it to the top of the ridge. When his fan crested the top of the hill he was about 35 yards. I was planning to watch him strut and let my Dad watch him do his thing but I heard my old man say "take him" and the son in me just listened....boom....gobbler down.
I have not been posting in this forum for very long but I have enjoyed reading stories like this one on here for a long while. I am happy I have started to share mine and thank you all for doing the same. The picture is far from the best and I'm sure I will regret not getting a better one. He was just an average 2 year old bird. 9 inch beard and 3/4 inch spurs although it will always be one of my favorite birds. All in all we could not have had a better morning. Good luck to everyone.
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