Featured The second weekend of the OSTS Part 2- The Day Of The Dead....Turkey!!!

Discussion in 'BlueDogs Blog' started by Bryan six, May 9, 2018.

  1. Bryan six

    Bryan six Staff Member Super Mod Mod


    Saturday morning, you find us back at the same tree, where we scored on my bird Friday morning. Wet, that's how I felt. The food plot was a good bit damper walking in Saturday morning and my pant legs soaked it all up. The temperature was a little cooler than the day before, but still the morning was beautiful. The sky starts the brighten up slowly and an overcast morning finally starts showing itself. The woods are calm and quiet, except for a Wren sitting on the branch of Redbud tree. The woods are starting to come alive with color. The redbud blooms are a beautiful purple and the vibrance of the many shades of greens in the forests pop, almost leaping at your eyes. A chipmunk is skimming through the leaf litter from this past fall. I watch him back and forth on a log, a busy little critter. Then suddenly he freezes, pearches up and looks into the vastness of the forests ahead of him. I heard it too, it was a gobble.

    Apparently, the longbeard that I harvested the day before, left a vacancy in a well sought after roosting area. Another gobble echos through the ever increasing fog. Then another and another. We figure that it is the same three birds that showed up yesterday from the bottom of the hollow. It was obvious there were multiple birds there, how many, we had no idea. They were diefinately roosted in the same place that my bird was, the morning before. A soft tree yelp and they cut Bill off. Well they know we are here, now let's see if they will play. Eventually the birds hit the ground and gobble a good bit. Every once in while we answer but they are already heading away from us. Regardless the gobbling had made me forget about my wet pants and how chilly I had gotten. Eventually everything goes quiet again, at least in the turkey department. We sit tight and wait, knowing that sooner or later we would find a player. Bill calls every once in a while as I relax down into my chair.

    The previous resident.

    The fog starts to fill up the hollow below. The ridges in the distance dissapear and Vinton county is no longer visible. Even though it's mere feet away. A rather buff, fox squirrel, makes his way up to us and I get lost in trance watching him. He was beautiful. Bouncing from tree to tree like he had not a care in the world. A gobble echos again through the woods ahead. The birds were heading back at us. Another gobble reassures my assessment and Bill answered they're cries of love! About twenty minutes go by and a huge black circle caught my eye in front of us. About seventy yards out, it disappeared behind a big white oak and reappeared again. Going back, in the dierection, where he came from. "Strutter", I whisper. "Seriously?", Bill says. "Yes ahead of us, no wait, two strutters," I reply.

    Bill is turned to shoot toward the decoys in the field. So he easily and slowly spins around when I give him the clear to do so. And we watch the birds strut. A ballet in the forest. It looked almost choreographed. Hollywood, couldnt do better. They circle and spin and strut their way up toward the field , heading the same way, that my longbeard did the morning before. Now we have the delima. Are they going to come out into the field? Will they circle and pop out below us, like yesterday? Well, we wait and wait, and await. Suddenly, I see a head in front of us. The bird See's something he doesn't like and starts putting. He is only thirty yards, but Bill can't see him. The bird turns, goes away putting and suddenly we hear a hand full of birds putting followed immediately by a big loud gobble.


    We didn't see the birds retreat in the direction that they came from, but they could have went over the hill, through the field. Bill, still with gun shoulderd, let's out a light Yelp and is cut off, blaaagggghhhhhhhhhh blaaaagggghhhhhhhh. Well, question answered. They didn't retreat, they are in the field.problem is they are just over the rise where we cannot see. "Better pour the coals to them, try to get them to pop their head up, before they leave," I whisper to Bill. He starts cutting and purring. No answer. He yelps, no answer. Now he is repositioned for a shot up into the field. All we need is a head to pop up. Minute go by, and then a half hour or so. Just as i slowly bend my head and raise my finger to smash a mosquito, who was chewing on my forehead, I have to freeze up. A red head periscopes up over the rise in the field. I can see Bill dropping his cheack on the gun. The bird starts acting funny. He may have seen us before we seen him, but for some reason he putts a couple times and walks behind the only tree in the field. He spins, comes back, and periscopes his bright red head again. Directly above the lay down hen decoy, he is standing, so Bill is reluctant to shoot the expensive avian hen. I notice that he is going to shoot the blind in front of us anyway and I call him off. The bird decides he is not feeling the safest and the bright red head dissapears over the hillside.

    To have birds alarm putting, and thinking it's over, to having one standing in the middle of the decoys an hour later was an up and down rollercoaster ride of excitement. We shake our heads as he finally relaxes from the shooting position that he had been in for two hours. I'm sitting there thinking that the birds are probably still up there strutting for the decoys, obviously Bill does too!! " I'm wondering if I should ease up there so I can see the other side of the field", he whispers. "I would, they may be just over the rise" I responded. So he slowly and quietly gets up out of his turkey chair and walks as quietly as a mouse to the field edge about six yards beside us. I watch as he gets as low as he can and slids up to the top of the field. He surveys in all directions and looks back at me to shake his head. They had left, so close we were to having back to back successful mornings.

    I look back at him just as he drops to his knees. He had decided to go a bit farther so he could see the edge of the woods on the other side of the field, just in case. A couple more silent steps and he is looking at the back of a tail fan at ten yards. I know immediately; when I seen him hit his knees, turn on the red dot and shoulder the gun, that the birds we still there. They were nervous and didn't like something, but could not leave those pretty hens, the avians, behind. Bill slowly rises to his feet again, aiming ahead. Then suddenly he swings to the right a little and boom!!! As he waited for the strutting bird to spin, another bird starts retreating from the field, right beside him. The old boy was no match for the longbeard xr at fifteen yards.


    Bill raises his his arms in a pose that reminded me of "ROCKY", if he had a shotgun. I run up to the field to celebrate, just in time to watch four longbeards running like crazy over the hill beside me. There had been a total of five longbeards, we just thought it was two strutters with a few hens. We were wrong. I smile a big smile as they dissapear into the underbrush to my left at about a hundred yards. I continue my course to Bill and his bird, we exchange a powerful, excited high five. Then the clebration begins. We show the landowner, the new gobbler, call in Bills bird, and head into camp. When we get to the Lake Hope campground, we are greeted by catchdog and his wife. Bear stew, was hot and ready!! We talk for a few minutes, enjoyed a great stew. This was my first time having bear meat and let me tell you, it is delicious.

    After we ate, the rain started. Slowly at first, but it got harder and harder. It didn't stop until 11 a.m. the next morning. Anyway, we were plucking Bills bird with an audience. The turkey hunters camping near all gathered around to see the elusive wild turkey that they were hearing, but just couldn't close the deal on. As catchdog, Bill, and I, continue to pluck the bird, someone takes a closer look at his thick paintbrush beard. "Congrats on the double bearded bird sir". "What"?? Sure enough, he had two beards. Separate growth bases, they were just so close together, that we hadn't noticed until the feathers were plucked around it. Crazy!

    Sunday morning was bad. One of those days that the turkeys just seem to stay home. Catchdog and his wife came a long way to hunt, and I as devestated that it was raining. We spent the morning in the rain, trying, reguardless. Well, I need up taking a small nap, lol!! Catchdog's wife said I sounded like a SE Ohio bear, I was tired. When ten o'clock rolled around, we decided to head to the Albany Cafe. Hmmmm aa war room, breakfast.. sounds nice. Catchdog says, "well, you guys wanna go?". "Sounds good". So, we had a good morning reguardless of the hunting. Catchdog bought us breakfast and we spent hours in the cafe, just talking. Great people those two. I am really hoping that next year, we have better luck on the weather, when they come down. This weekend coming up, hopefully we can get Missy's first turkey!! I will pray for good weather, though it didn't help much Sunday, lol!!!

    One last note, as we were leaving Albany, we seen two separate longbeards strutting in the sun. Yea the rain stopped at noon. Almost noon. Catchdog's wife said, that he looked at the clock and said, "We have ten minutes"!!! That's turkey hunting I suppose!!


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    Last edited: May 9, 2018
  2. Great story and pics! Sounds like a great time was had...and a hot breakfast and B.S. session after hunting all morning in the rain is the perfect way to close out the days hunt!!
    Bryan six likes this.

  3. Sounds like an awesome hunt! I could not imagine the pain going through his arms holding that gun up for 2 hours!
  4. Wonderful story again Bryan!!! Congrats to Bill!!!!