Since I'm an incurable addict, here goes...after 3 good
days of hunting the first season on private land in St Clair County IL,
in which I'd taken a 15 lb tom on the opener, we found ourselves on
Thursday (April 10) in a torrential downpour. All the big boys say hunt
when it rains, so a huntin' we went.
This particular morning my landowner and I had our sons (mine a 13 year
old with one turkey under his belt from last year, and his a 15 year old
and bird-less) with us in a field we'd tried ambushing a couple of big
toms and bearded hens the day before. Incidentally, on that day prior,
we actually had one of the toms come in to Pretty Girl at the edge of
the field, but we had decided my landowner friend should work his way
north on the creek to attempt an ambush of the hesitant toms. As you
can imagine, the moment he was in the creek bed, one of the toms came
south and strutted for me (no tag, for I had tagged out as mentioned)
and Pretty Girl at about 20 yards for over 15 minutes. That's huntin'.
Pan forward to Thursday morning again, and we had set up Pretty Boy and
Pretty Girl only about 15 yards in front of our blinds not far from
where they had been strutting the day before. After coming off the
roost late at about 6:30 a.m., my friend finally got a gobble out of the
tom with his box call. We trended the tom headed south of us, and
correctly anticipated his arrival onto the field to our left. When he
stepped onto the field at 120 yards or so, my son and I instantly
recognized him to be a good one, but we had no idea yet just how good
he'd turn out to be. He worked his way towards us as I gave him several
aggressive growls on a Wood Haven Billy Yargus diaphragm, and once he
got a good look at Pretty Boy, we knew we had a dead bird walking well
out past 50 yards. Our protocol for the hunt had my landowner's son
taking the first good shot with everyone else providing "bead only"
backup. Unfortunately, he shot extremely low at only 15 yards and the
big tom took flight...directly up. When my young friend delayed the
follow up, and with the bird over 12 feet in the air, I waited as long
as I could before giving the predetermined instruction, "shoot him." My
son, bless his heart, was locked onto the bird and having never lost his
concentration (although we marveled at the big boy all the way in as he
'side-pass' stepped and strutted straight in to kick Pretty Boy's butt),
put the killer shot on him immediately. With all the water and soggy
ground, the blast knocked him over onto me and we both landed in the now
full mudhole in our blind. I could tell the bird was down for good and
had him safety his gun.
If you'll allow me to brag on my young friend who had just missed, I
must say I could not have been prouder of him. Although disappointed in
missing, he was elated for my son's kill and remains so to this day. We
are raising our boys to be godly men, and this outing was an excellent
example of how well they are doing. My son was just as broken hearted
for him, and just as elated for him the next day when he (my landowner's
son) took that excellent 17 lb jake with an attitude as he strutted
inside of 12 yards to kick ol' Pretty Boy's rear end! Man, you gotta
love it.
My son's bird, which we didn't realize was such a trophy until we got
him back to the porch, weighed in at 22 lbs 2 oz, had 1 1/4 inch spurs,
and get this...5 beards totaling 39 inches, all totaling 125 NWTF System
Points. We've contacted the NWTF folks, sent in the necessary certified
paperwork, and fully expect to hear in a few days that he has taken the
new all time #2 Eastern Wild Turkey for the state of Illinois. Thanks,
Carry Lite, for such a superb product.
Tuck
O'Fallon, IL