Well guys, after many a lonely and quiet mile in the last 3 weeks things have come together nicely the last few hunts.

Again, what follows is the long of it - all the details. This doesn't seem to draw many comments but the story is so much of the hunt for me I seek to preserve them all.

Only having a few days left in LA had me wanting to take advantage of these clear cool, alright cold mornings. I knew where a few birds have been hanging out and hoped on of my visits would have me close enough to a roosted bird to get in the game. It seems lately a few gobbles early and all is quiet.

I parked far away today and slipped down the road towards where I wanted to be at daylight. I was running a little behind under the misconception that 6:30 was gobble time. Boys, the days are getting longer quick and gobbling at 6:15 is happenin'.

I neared a draw where I saw a gobbler in the road last week. I hit the Primos Power Crow down the draw and invoked a gobble about 500 yds. to the south. That's all it took for me to break out in a dead run down the gravel road for nearly a 1/4 mile.

I slowed down as I neared a pipeline that lead towards where I thought he was. I pulled up my mask, slipped the Classic V3 in my mouth and was about to hit the Crow again when he gobbled right where I heard him.

I slipped down the pipeline towards him about 75 yds. to a familiar spot for me. Finally, after carrying Jennie (my deke) for many miles and never letting her see daylight I plopped her down 20 yds. on the opposite side of me from the bird. She show nough' is ugly after all these years of abuse.

I listened to him gobbling at the crows soaking in the brightening sky and cool morning air. After a few minutes, I decided a few tree yelps were in order to take his temperature.

I was on top of my ridge that dropped off about 40' in elevation before sharply rising up to his ridge, on top of which he was perched about 50 yards off of the pipeline.

My second series of tree yelps was rewarded with a lusty gobble from the scant 125 yds. between us. I was worried he might see my teeth shinin' I was smiling so big. I kept my gun pointed towards the gobbles and waited for fly down time. I was looking forward to some sweet fly down cackles and hoping he would pitch my way. I had a slight risk with the big draw between us but it was too late to get closer. I also had a good backdoor to slip out and around, if necessary.

A few minutes went by and I heard wings in the treetops. To my surprise, they weren't headed downward but horizontal across the sky. I watched a turkey come from his ridge to mine and light in a tree 75 yds away. Against the morning sky, the flying turkey looked small. I wondered if it was a hen or the gobbler. I needed him to gobble again to tell.

About then I started hearing drummin' and leaves to my right and left with the bird in the tree dead center - dilemma! I aimed my gun toward the sounds to the right so if I had to come back it would be easier. I scanned everywhere with wandering eyes looking hard. Was it squirrels? Gobblers? Hens? I needed him to gobble again.

Two more series of tree yelps were met with a rolling gobble from 75 yds away. "Ok, he is right there on the pipeline with me looking down for a hen. Hm, I'll just sit tight and quiet and wait."

I planned to perform some cackles after a while and start scratching and calling away from the ol' boy to lure him my way but none of that was necessary.

After a few minutes I caught movement up in the tree and he pitched out flying right down my gun barrel! I barely lost sight of him as he landed 35-40 yds. downhill. As his white crown and glowing red neck bobbed my direction, I just aimed down the barrel and enjoyed the scenery.

Oh, before I forget, the first gobble I heard when I hit the pipeline sounded like a Jake. I really didn't want to shoot a Jake either but took the chance that I was wrong or maybe could rouse up a jealous Tom that wasn't gobbling yet. However, his gobble rolled and sounded fuller the more he let them out so I figured he was a long beard.

I was going to let him close as he wanted to. I had shots at his head from the time he touched ground. At 20 steps he crested the hill and gave me a full view of all his splendor. I cut down on the V3 call but at that distance he was reconciling that sound coming from this blob on the ground and the hen standing over there - no need to wait any longer - BOOM!

He flipped backwards and barely flinched. I looked at the time: 6:42 a.m. "Lord, that was quick. Thank you so much! Thank you so much!."

Ed

p.s. - AR story to come soon. google_ad_section_end

Aim Small; Miss small.

cajun

Yeah, my fan base wants to go sooo bad. They are constantly trying to make turkey sounds with a small motuh call and an old Knight & Hale Lonesome Hen push-button call and have gotten good with the Lonesome Hen.

Cajun - How about the tall tree toms you were watching before the season?

Ed

Aim Small; Miss small.

cajun