Turkey Hunting in Eastern North Carolina
Dad's 1st Gobbler
This 'book' is worth reading. It is the definition of a television-worthy hunt. As a young man, my dad was a die-hard deer hunter that loved running dogs. I have become equally passionate about turkey hunting. Now, my dad says that deer hunting doesn't hold a candle to turkey hunting.
We went out to a place we rarely hunt and sat in the fog of the field before daylight, eating corned-beef hash and laughing like school girls about who-knows-what. Then we decided it was time to go get settled in.
We sat in the backside edge of a decent block of woods surrounded by field with no decoys used. I started some soft clucks and purrs on the slate right after expected flydown and a lone hen came clucking and we let her slip on through. Then we heard very distant gobbles coming from what sounded like where we parked the truck at the road. The gobbler started toward my box calling from about 300 yards away. He sounded like he hung up so we got up and moved toward him, leaving our stools behind. We traded turkey talk en route for about a half hour while moving. Before we knew it we had gone by the turkey through the woods and he was headed toward our 1st spot by field. We then had to go back to where we started, crossing the powerlines running through the block of woods and nearly being spotted by him. We then played cat-and-mouse, with me trying to keep dad between the turkey and myself while I tried to call and sneak away to bring him by to no avail.
We then sneaked through to our 1st spot since the bird wouldn't come into the woods. I moved away from dad and called with a mouth call while he crawled into a grapevine of cover. I could see the gobbler come around the corner of the island of woods and everytime and cut, he would gobble, strut closer and then feed. Sometimes he would gobble up to five times without a pause between. This was repeated over and over until I got him to come by the grapevine at 25 yards. I qued dad to shoot, whispering, 'shoot him' twice because it was now or never. When he finally cleared the leaves dad could see his head.
This 23.5 lb. tom fell to dad's 2 3/4' Rem. 1100 that he used for deer in the 1970's. I have been on some amazing turkey hunts, but this was the hunt of a lifetime.