With a pretty hectic schedule, Abby hasn't been able to sit down and do her story yet... so you're going to get Dad's version first...
This story starts about 30 years ago... Okay, I won't go back quite that far.
I started scouting in earnest about 2 weeks ago and most of my usual spots have been devoid of turkeys. It's really strange, but I pressed on and found a couple here and there. The reason I go back so far on this is the farm where I found a couple birds was the farm that I cut my turkey hunting teeth on. My family actually owned a portion of this farm but sold it back in the 70’s. I have a lot of history on this place, and I’m willing to bet I know the farm better than anyone… including the landowner. I’ve killed countless deer and turkeys on this property, and it’s a beautiful place with big hardwood ridges and some 15 year old loblolly pines. If you’ve watched “Pure Turkey” you’ve seen several hunts from this property. Anyway… I say all of that to say this… The property is currently being clearcut, and the next turkey that is killed, could likely be the last in my lifetime from this place… it’s painful to watch what they are doing to it. Now, I’m not against timber harvesting at all… but the way they are cutting this place, all 450 acres, is a travesty and with every log that goes out of there, a bit of my hunting heritage goes with it. Thank goodness for the memories. I’m glad Abby got to hunt it and kill a turkey there…
After intensely scouting this place and these gobblers all last week, I snuck in mid-day on Friday and placed a blind in the woods… and hand raked a trail from the grassy road down through the woods and to the blind and to the location I wanted to place a couple decoys. I normally don’t use decoys in the woods, but with Abby shooting the .410 you need to get them in pretty close and 5 yards can mean all the difference in the world. I went back over Friday afternoon to try and roost a bird but only spotted 2 hens near the blind and heard another bird that was on the property but impossible to really get to.
Amy and I rolled Abby out of bed at 4:30 AM and she was excited and ready to go. After the warm winter/spring we had it was a bit of a shock to head out in the 30 degree air for the drive over. We made provisions to try and keep Abby (and Amy) warm and we slipped in the blind in the bright moonlight really early so as to not disturb anything. After settling in with extra jackets and hot hands and toasty toes we waited for the woods to come alive. I was nervous waiting for daylight as Friday morning was the only morning this bird had not gobbled. Had he moved? Had he been poached? Was he totally henned-up? My fears subsided when he gobbled behind us right where he was supposed to be.
We waited for good light and started some soft calling. We could also hear another bird gobbling a couple ridges over and after flydown he worked his way closer to us and I thought he might commit, but he turned and went out the ridge away from us. “Our” bird continued to gobble occasionally, barely audible because of the hollow he was in, but he would answer our sporadic calling. As the early morning played out he started gobbling a little closer and finally we got that gobble we wanted. He was just on the other side of the finger ridge… Less than 100 yards away now.
Abby was snuggled in an extra coat and fighting the urge to take a nap, when I decided she need to get in my lap and ready for a shot. After several minutes we heard a hen yelp right where the gobbler last gobbled from. I told Abby, and you can hear it on the camera, that the hens might have ruined it for us. I had Abby get back in her chair and told her we just needed to be patient.
The next time he gobbled, it was one of those, “Oh crap… he’s right there gobbles!” I picked up the slate and did just a few soft purrs and about the time I was preparing to soft yelp I saw his fan crest the hill at about 60 yards. I tell Abby to get her earmuffs and get in my lap. The gobbler was working slowly our way and when he would move I would move Abby closer to my lap. With Abby finally situated we just enjoyed the show. The sun was almost at his back and he was strutting for all he was worth. I had placed 2 hens and a jake decoy and he walked by the first hen and headed right to the jake. It was time to shoot so I just soft called to hopefully stop him. Nope... moved by the jake to the next hen. Checked her out and then starts back to the jake. Okay Abby… now is time to shoot. I call some more, but he will not stand still long enough. He spins and struts, and just does his thing, but he’s now behind the decoy and Abby said she couldn’t see good enough to shoot. He starts walking away, slowly going over the hill. I tell Abby she needs to shoot and cut a little to try and get him to stop. He keeps moving and Abby does good to be patient and not shoot him in the tail or rush the shot. If he takes two more steps he’s gone and I tell Abby, “You need to shoot him now!” and he finally stops just long enough for her to aim and squeeze… and down he goes without a single flop.
I open the blind and push Abby out the door… She knows what to do and runs to the gobbler and her boot is placed firmly on his head. Great job little girl… great job!!!
High fives, hugs and kisses abound… and suddenly no one is cold anymore. We soak it all in and just enjoy the moment. We stayed in the woods talking and taking pictures for more than an hour after the shot and just cherished the whole thing.
I killed my first turkey about 200 yards from this very spot almost 30 years ago… and here we are with Abby’s first longbeard. As she walked out with the gobbler over her shoulder, I was filled with the emotion of excitement, pride, nostalgia, and the sadness that these hardwoods we were walking through wouldn’t be standing in a month. The circle of life goes on and on and on…
Abby’s gobbler will be making a trip to the taxidermist… 21.5 lbs, 9.5” beard and 1-1/8” spurs.
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