Saturday was a comedy of errors. We started out calling a Jake and a bearded Hen. The shooter was a good friend Deven Morrill. He was not game for shooting either (any boy did I try to talk him into the jake, wife had breakfast on the table). So I kept calling and a few minutes later a tom was at 30 yards. Problem was he was directly behind us and we were not set up to get a shoot that way. He finally walked off not to return.
So off we went looking for a new contestant to play our game. I took Dev down a new logging road where we had got on a bird last week. We called and walked and then called some more. However instead of setting up, we just kept walking. About 2 minutes later we rounded the corner and there was a strutter at 25 yards. I didn't think he saw us, so we backed up and started calling. The hope was to get it on tape. Well I was wrong, because he never came in and was gone when we went back to look. Rookie mistake on my part.
Off again. By now the camera is soaked and we are just on "get a bird" mode. We went to the scene of the crime where I killed my tom. Nothing there, but as we made it to the spot where the powerlines crossed, we saw 2 jakes in the woods. I drove down the dirt road and turned around. As I just about got back to the powerline 4 toms crossed and ran over the top of the hill and into the woods on the right. We gave about 2 minutes to calm down and then Deven went up the pole line and basically set up on the pole. I went to the other side and started calling. Three calls and the toms gave up their position. Next thing I hear is a boom. I yelled to Deven, "did you get him?" "hell ya" echoed down the line.
Tom went 19.5 lb 8.5. inch beard and 7/8 spurs.
