As humans we tend to let life revolve around work and not enough of what we enjoy. After working 6 days a week for the past month the spring fever was defiantly in full effect. Having only a handful of days spent with a fishing pole in my hand and only one 3-D Archery tourney, I needed some bonding time with Mother Nature. Spring in Missouri involves only one thing, the endless hunt of the invasive Gobbler. With tags in hand I was ready for opening morning only to be let down with my welcome back to the single life and a meeting with the legal professional that would help get me there. Another two weeks passed before my next opportunity would arise. They say all things in life happen for a reason and this is one to prove it. After doing some sweet talking I set myself up with a 4 day weekend to be filled with Gobbler hunting and Crappie fishing. Wednesday night May 3rd while driving home I decided to drop by a neighbor and see if he was interested in making the early trip to the Turkey woods. The answer I received was great because he severely improved my location. Having the urge to go back to Cuiver Island since the successful Whitetail hunt, instead was offered hunt land in Paris County on Mark Twain Lake. This is the one place to be in the US according to Field and Stream. We headed out Thursday afternoon to spend some time on the Lake Crappie fishing and to end the evening rousting our birds for the morning hunt. Having good luck on the lake, we passed on an evening trip to the wood for a fish fry.
Friday May 5th alarm going off at 5 am I lay and question why it is again
I enjoy this so much. While half asleep and throwing my Camo on I am listening
as to where I am to go. Being the first time in these woods I am already lost.
I arrive at my parking spot at 5:30 to walk into the wood as I cross the creak
I reassure myself that this is correct. As I am now looking for my next land
mark I realize that the fence row that is to be on my right is merely survey
markers. I now arrive on an ethical hunter has been crossed with many time
a fence. As I replay the directions and gain my bearing I come to the conclusion
that this fence leads to the Corp Public Hunting Ground. I slowly climb the
incline that was described to me to be blown at by not one but two whitetails
30 yards to my left. As I watch them, and they watch me I start looking for
my spot. A couple minutes pass and I decide on a big Maple Tree 30 yards dead
ahead. As I take my first step I hear this eruption from the top of my tree,
as my heart drop I see my Gobbler leave his roust. After already debating
where to set up I now am questioning myself again. Realizing that the sun
is up and I needed to be set up already I decided to set up where I was at.
As I sit down in my borrowed Turkey Lounger I set up my ground blind, and
pull out my H.S. Strut Double Glass call. Having just purchased two weeks
prior I was not expecting much. Five minutes, 6:30am, into the hunt I hear
my first Gobbler. Working the call trying to get a response I receive none.
As I sit and look at the woods I remember that one of the things I packed
in was a Hen decoy and it was still on my back. I quickly and quietly walk
of what I thought was 25 yards and sat down. Pulling out the range finder
I quickly discovered that it was actually 15 yards. Not wanting to risk spooking
something else it would have to do.
The wait begins. A half hour passes without a gobble. As I work the call sparingly I hear a faint gobble in the distance. Waiting to make sure I hear it again but it sound a little closer. I make another call and wait to hear him gobble back yet even closer. There is no word that can describe the feeling of realizing that you have established contact with a Gobbler. Continuing to work the Gobbler I hear him slowly come closer and closer until I knew that he had to be just over the ridge. Having already picked up the pump of my Remington 870 Super Mag with my left hand I place my call on my right knee and tried to make one last call with one hand. Luckily it came out okay but decided that it was not worth risking a second attempt. Sitting and waiting for what seemed like a lifetime as my heart tried to rip out of my chest cavity I knew by his volume that he was in range to see me. Holding as still as possible I finally spot the Gobblers tail feathers. As the Tom walks out into view he is full strut heading for my Hen decoy. As I watch the Gobbler walk into shooting range I realize that he is walking straight at me also. Having just put a fiber optic ring sight on without patterning my gun I was afraid of ruining my breast meat. I decided to wait for a clear head shot with out the body being in the way. The Tom walks to within 10 yards of my decoy and suddenly drops out of strut and makes a sharp turn to my left. My heart drops, I passed up my opportunity I think as my Gobbler is well hidden behind a large bush. I question myself “Do I jump up and Run and Gun him?” I decide to wait just a little bit more, I see him slowly moving back up the hill behind the brushy cover. Suddenly his curiosity gets the best of him, as he decided he needed one last look at the decoy. As I see his head slowly extend up and over the bush to gain one last peak I instantly raised my gun and fired with out thought. As I watched the Gobbler barrel roll I was well on my way to his resting spot under a 20 foot Cedar tree. As I walked up to my prize I could not help but smile from ear to ear. With being my first time hunting turkey, it could not have gone any smoother.
Gear:
Mossy Oak Camo and Ground Blind
Remington 870 Super Mag with Ring of Fire Sight
Winchester Supreme 3 1/2 Turkey Loads
Temp 51F
Time 7:30 am
Paris County Mark Twain Lake Corp Ground
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