So, Wednesday morning, I finally decided to venture out into MD's turkey woods. It felt good to be there to greet the sunrise and hear the chorus of spring birds again. I got set up on a gobbler first thing but watched him fly down and follow a squad of hens making a racket. This time, my calls were in vain.
I quickly moved to another area where I heard a bird gobbling. I couldn't raise him...probably a mess of hens with him as well.
Through mosquito whines and a strengthening wind I thought I heard a distant gobble. I thought I knew his approximate location. Closing the distance to half I laid on the Gibson trumpet call and he gobbled...but only once. I traveled about 150 yds. through a pine plantation and dared to get within 4 rows of an old woods road...he should be close.
I purred on one of the Cypress Swamp glass calls and caught movement as a hen appeared on the road. Patience. I purred and clucked again. As another hen appeared 25 yards away I thought I heard the familiar drumming sound made by the gobbler. Patience, drumming then a fan and a good beard. I mouth clucked, the head went up and a load of 7's put him on his back. I paused, raised my eyes and said "that ones for you dad".
Moving towards the bird I noticed the beard but my eyes naturally gravitated to the legs...my gaze was greeted with a huge set of spurs. They were both over 1 1/2 inches with the beard at 11 inches. I was blessed once again. Thanks for being there dad.
I'll be spending time in the afternoons hunting with my grandson and attempting another longbeard with the bow.
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