Second of the season...a special one...and a long story.
05-21-2005, 09:10 PM
#1
Nontypical Buck
Thread Starter
Join Date: Feb 2003
Location: SW Michigan
Posts: 1,906
Second of the season...a special one...and a long story.
Harvested the second one of the season yesterday, and oh what a special hunt it was...
I have hunted this particular horsefarm in the past, having harvested 2 adult toms in only 4 days of hunting. I have not hunted it in the past 2 years, and thought this year that I would again give it a try. The property is actually quite beautiful, with 20 acres of fields surrounding the barn naturally barricaded by a medium-sized river. On the huntable 80 acres are another 10 acres of mixed pasture which abutt a 30 degree hill, covered with large glacial cobblestones and typical New England mixed hardwoods & evergreens. A gasline right-of-way is clearcut, ~40 yards wide, near the edge of the property and runs up the entire length of the hill. At the very top of the hill, the property plateau's and turkey sign was dispersed heavily throughout the old growth hardwoods, where I had harvested the other two toms. On my scouting trip on Wednesday afternoon, I had spotted a lone hen, which was being stalked by a red fox...
Thursday morning I arrived at the property at 4:32, which was ~25 minutes before first light. I quickly grabbed my vest and gun, and hiked the 5 minutes over to the gasline clearcut. Pulled out the Palmer's hoot tube, and let it rip. Nothing. Gave two more hoots, and was surprised by the gobble that emanated not more than a few hundred yards directly to my left, back towards my truck! The owners house sits in that general direction, and is surrounded by tall ancient hemlocks, where I thought the birds may be roosted. I contemplated still going up the hill, knowing there were birds roosted there also, but decided to stick with the gobbler I had gotten to respond...
I hastily turned and started walking the field edge towards my truck, as there is an old logging road which snakes towards the hemlocks. I got halfway there, and the bird gobbled on his own, except he was in the woods next to the pasture, nowhere near the house or the hemlocks. I picked my way through the soft moist fauna, avoiding all the large branches, and he gobbled again. It was now 4:55, so I popped the shells into the chamber, legal hunting had begun.
I donned the facemask, and starting skylining the treetops for that distinguishable shape. I thought the bird was either an old tom, who had worn out his voice over the last month, or a jake---I couldn't quite tell from the gobble. I spied a shape about 50 yards ahead, roosted 30ft up in a large oak. I deftly moved away from the bird, and setup about 75 yards from his roost. I got situated, and got the gun up. There was a nice small clearing to my right, which was a direct path out to the gasline clearcut, where I had seen strutting wing-drag marks and tracks the day before. This was gonna be good...
I sat there looking up at the bird, and became a little restless. I realized that although I was about 75 yards from his tree, through the canopy it seemed like 25 and I felt that nervous anxiety building up, saying "did he see me, or didn't he see me..." I could now easily distinguish a good beard hanging, so this was definitely not a jake....
I checked the watch, which read 5:05, and I expected the bird to stay in the tree until about 5:20 as the sky was overcast and there was a slight mist hanging heavy in the air. To my surprise a bird, that had been roosted with the tom I had skylined, dropped to the ground about 60 yards away. I quickly distinguished the round shape of a full fan, at which point he dropped out of strut and gobbled. The bird I had been watching wasn't the dominant bird, and I had 2 toms directly in front of my setup!
I chirped out 2 soft clucks, which were the only hen sounds those gobblers had heard. He didn't disappoint, as he thundered out a roar and resumed strutting. He eased his way in, to what I estimated to be ~35 yards, just the other side of a low rising ancient stone wall. I wanted him to get just on the other side of the wall, for a clean shot, as the overcast sky and fog were blurring my sight through the reddot ever so slightly.
I purred, and he took a few steps in my direction, only to turn and show me the backside of his dominance. He turned back in my direction, now out of strut, and the tom in the tree started to putt. Not sure what happened, but the gig was obviously up, so it was now or never. As I had just dropped a 2yr old on Tuesday, at 43 paces, I knew this tom was well within range and I gave him a blast of X-tended #6s. He went down flopping, only to jump back up and run off!
I was stunned as I watched him run, but quickly took pursuit. I'm not one for sitting still and recovering from the adrenaline anyway, as I'm the type to get up and over to the animal ASAP, but now there was a greater sense of urgency. I got to the wall, and he was stumbling/walking around in a dazed state. I raised up and hit him again, at which he ran off a second time! I took aim and hit him with the 3rd round, at which he did a 180 and hunkered down in a pile of brush. I was nerve-wracked, but composed enough to grab a shell from the vest and finish him cleanly.
He was a gorgeous bird, but I was completely stumped about the shot. I retraced my path, and thought that I must have miscalculated the range...but nope, exactly 35 paces and the shot pattern on the nearby saplings indicated he had received a good whallup. I inspected him thoroughly, and noticed that his neck has to be the largest on any bird I've ever tagged...approximately 2 hands around at the base (and I've got some pretty large hands). At home, I found 3 bbs of copper-plated 4 shot in his legs...this was one tough bird.
Extra special this year...I'm expecting a son in June, my second child, and it was my Father's birthday. He passed away over 17 years now, at the young age of 53, and I had never harvested a bird on his birthday before...just really bittersweet. Awesome bird, his wing feathers were worn down ~3 inches, he must have been strutting nonstop for months. Weighed in at 19# (dressed), sporting 1.0 & 1.0625 spurs with a heavy 10" beard. That's the stone wall he wouldn't cross, in the picture. If I look a little dazed, I was...I have never had to take 4 shots to down a bird before
I have hunted this particular horsefarm in the past, having harvested 2 adult toms in only 4 days of hunting. I have not hunted it in the past 2 years, and thought this year that I would again give it a try. The property is actually quite beautiful, with 20 acres of fields surrounding the barn naturally barricaded by a medium-sized river. On the huntable 80 acres are another 10 acres of mixed pasture which abutt a 30 degree hill, covered with large glacial cobblestones and typical New England mixed hardwoods & evergreens. A gasline right-of-way is clearcut, ~40 yards wide, near the edge of the property and runs up the entire length of the hill. At the very top of the hill, the property plateau's and turkey sign was dispersed heavily throughout the old growth hardwoods, where I had harvested the other two toms. On my scouting trip on Wednesday afternoon, I had spotted a lone hen, which was being stalked by a red fox...
Thursday morning I arrived at the property at 4:32, which was ~25 minutes before first light. I quickly grabbed my vest and gun, and hiked the 5 minutes over to the gasline clearcut. Pulled out the Palmer's hoot tube, and let it rip. Nothing. Gave two more hoots, and was surprised by the gobble that emanated not more than a few hundred yards directly to my left, back towards my truck! The owners house sits in that general direction, and is surrounded by tall ancient hemlocks, where I thought the birds may be roosted. I contemplated still going up the hill, knowing there were birds roosted there also, but decided to stick with the gobbler I had gotten to respond...
I hastily turned and started walking the field edge towards my truck, as there is an old logging road which snakes towards the hemlocks. I got halfway there, and the bird gobbled on his own, except he was in the woods next to the pasture, nowhere near the house or the hemlocks. I picked my way through the soft moist fauna, avoiding all the large branches, and he gobbled again. It was now 4:55, so I popped the shells into the chamber, legal hunting had begun.
I donned the facemask, and starting skylining the treetops for that distinguishable shape. I thought the bird was either an old tom, who had worn out his voice over the last month, or a jake---I couldn't quite tell from the gobble. I spied a shape about 50 yards ahead, roosted 30ft up in a large oak. I deftly moved away from the bird, and setup about 75 yards from his roost. I got situated, and got the gun up. There was a nice small clearing to my right, which was a direct path out to the gasline clearcut, where I had seen strutting wing-drag marks and tracks the day before. This was gonna be good...
I sat there looking up at the bird, and became a little restless. I realized that although I was about 75 yards from his tree, through the canopy it seemed like 25 and I felt that nervous anxiety building up, saying "did he see me, or didn't he see me..." I could now easily distinguish a good beard hanging, so this was definitely not a jake....
I checked the watch, which read 5:05, and I expected the bird to stay in the tree until about 5:20 as the sky was overcast and there was a slight mist hanging heavy in the air. To my surprise a bird, that had been roosted with the tom I had skylined, dropped to the ground about 60 yards away. I quickly distinguished the round shape of a full fan, at which point he dropped out of strut and gobbled. The bird I had been watching wasn't the dominant bird, and I had 2 toms directly in front of my setup!
I chirped out 2 soft clucks, which were the only hen sounds those gobblers had heard. He didn't disappoint, as he thundered out a roar and resumed strutting. He eased his way in, to what I estimated to be ~35 yards, just the other side of a low rising ancient stone wall. I wanted him to get just on the other side of the wall, for a clean shot, as the overcast sky and fog were blurring my sight through the reddot ever so slightly.
I purred, and he took a few steps in my direction, only to turn and show me the backside of his dominance. He turned back in my direction, now out of strut, and the tom in the tree started to putt. Not sure what happened, but the gig was obviously up, so it was now or never. As I had just dropped a 2yr old on Tuesday, at 43 paces, I knew this tom was well within range and I gave him a blast of X-tended #6s. He went down flopping, only to jump back up and run off!
I was stunned as I watched him run, but quickly took pursuit. I'm not one for sitting still and recovering from the adrenaline anyway, as I'm the type to get up and over to the animal ASAP, but now there was a greater sense of urgency. I got to the wall, and he was stumbling/walking around in a dazed state. I raised up and hit him again, at which he ran off a second time! I took aim and hit him with the 3rd round, at which he did a 180 and hunkered down in a pile of brush. I was nerve-wracked, but composed enough to grab a shell from the vest and finish him cleanly.
He was a gorgeous bird, but I was completely stumped about the shot. I retraced my path, and thought that I must have miscalculated the range...but nope, exactly 35 paces and the shot pattern on the nearby saplings indicated he had received a good whallup. I inspected him thoroughly, and noticed that his neck has to be the largest on any bird I've ever tagged...approximately 2 hands around at the base (and I've got some pretty large hands). At home, I found 3 bbs of copper-plated 4 shot in his legs...this was one tough bird.
Extra special this year...I'm expecting a son in June, my second child, and it was my Father's birthday. He passed away over 17 years now, at the young age of 53, and I had never harvested a bird on his birthday before...just really bittersweet. Awesome bird, his wing feathers were worn down ~3 inches, he must have been strutting nonstop for months. Weighed in at 19# (dressed), sporting 1.0 & 1.0625 spurs with a heavy 10" beard. That's the stone wall he wouldn't cross, in the picture. If I look a little dazed, I was...I have never had to take 4 shots to down a bird before
05-22-2005, 06:28 AM
#2
Nontypical Buck
Join Date: Feb 2003
Location: Heaven IA USA
Posts: 2,597
RE: Second of the season...a special one...and a long story.
Congratulations, excellent story!
I think a lot of people underestimate the beating that these birds can take. That and if there is any foliage out at all, or if one is hunting in the thick stuff, a lot of the pattern is deflected. If even a few pellets get deflected into the pattern, at the velocity these loads are travelling it can raise havoc with the pattern.
Again great story and thanks for sharing!
I think a lot of people underestimate the beating that these birds can take. That and if there is any foliage out at all, or if one is hunting in the thick stuff, a lot of the pattern is deflected. If even a few pellets get deflected into the pattern, at the velocity these loads are travelling it can raise havoc with the pattern.
Again great story and thanks for sharing!
05-22-2005, 07:15 AM
#3
Nontypical Buck
Join Date: Feb 2003
Location: Calif
Posts: 1,894
RE: Second of the season...a special one...and a long story.
Great story Chris!!I agree most definately with Antler!!Chris your story really illustrates even with the bird being in range the importance of taking quality ethical shots in ones realistic killing range!These birds can be downright tough!!Congrats on a fine bird and story!!!
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