rob paetzold
Active member
Well I got my turkey #4. It was the best hunt yet. I took the day off Thursday and got set up at 5 am on the edge of an alfalfa field where I had seen birds all week except Wednesday morning of course but I figured birds would still show up so I stuck with my original plan. This is the same spot I killed my last 3 birds. I was pretty excited- as soon as the sun came up turkeys started going nuts in the woods behind me (Hens and gobblers). I had gobblers answering my pathetic attempts to call but couldn’t get one of them to come over and take a look down the barrel of my mighty 10 gauge.
I sat tight till about 10am and snuck around the edge of the woods to see all the toms strutting around at the way back far corner of the plowed field behind me. The property I have permission to hunt is a quarter section with a wooded section that forms a cul-de-sac in the middle. I was sitting on the east edge of the woods. The turkeys where sitting on the other side of the woods on the far west edge bordering some one else’s property. I figured I come back in the afternoon and set up in the woods on one of the ridges. In the mean time I thought I could go to the other side of the property across the road which is a full section and has woods and plowed fields as well as a abandon fallen in farm stead. My plan was to set up in a fallen over oak tree close to the abandon farmstead. I busted a gobbler strutting around close that spot earlier in the week mid afternoon.
I snuck in to my spot in the fallen oak tree, Sat down on the ground and let out a couple of clucks Immediately got a gobble back - man did my heart start to race. I kept on clucking an yelping, the turkey gobbled back. This went on for what seemed like and hour. Some times he sounded close some times far away. I would cluck he would answer back with a set of gobbles. Crows flew over and would caw he would gobble back. Then it happened I caught a little movement out of the corner of my eye sure enough it was a turkey hanging on the edge of the woods. I lowered the volume and let out some soft clucks to be answer back by some gobbles but not from the bird handing 40 yards to my left in front of me. These gobbles came from behind and right. That got the pulse going !!! In the mean time I got my shotgun up on my knee and the butt on my shoulder , “oh shit the bolt is open” my shotgun is unloaded !!! In my excitement relocating I forgot to reload the gun!!!! I had the 3 shotgun shells in my cargo pocket in my pants. Now the bird in the woods is out of the woods and looking right at me, it was a hen. As soon as she turned her head I got a round in the chamber but she knew something was'nt quite right and is back staring right at me, I sat tight holding my breath not even blinking I could feel my eyes starting to dry! Again she looked away. I blink, breath and let out a couple soft clucks. She’s bobbing around trying to figure out what’s going on and is now 20 yards right out in front of me. The next time she turned I managed to slip round in the chamber undetected but did not closed the bolt in fear I would spoke her. Off to my right I catch some movement another turkey coming from behind coming down the over grown farm trail. This one has a big red white and blue puffy head, oh yeah its the gobbler. He stops and kind of goes into a half strut. The hen is right out front and getting farther out just bobbing and weaving making soft short cluck’s. I hold the bolt and hit the release to get the shell into battery as silently as possible and then give it one last push forward to insure battery. The hen doesn’t notice a thing, the other turkey is oblivious to me as well. I even manage to get another round into the magazine. I decide not to try to push my luck and try for a third -I am golden!! The hen is out at about 75 yards and the gobbler has moved in to 25 yards of my right rear. My heart is about to jump out of my chest- I am even starting to breath heavy- I need to calm down and breath. I sit motionless keeping an eye on him. He is puffed out, tail and all back to me. I can’t see his head. I got the shot gun up on my knee, face anchored on the stock, hand on the pistol grip, hand on the fore end, safety off,finger on the trigger but I can’t get the bead on him unless I shift position he’s to far right and behind. I can’t even see his head. He just needs to keep coming down the trail 15, 20 more feet, which he is in the process of doing in full tilt strut, his head, is tucked down in his breast. I just need to be still and wait he’s coming. A couple minutes pass he has moved far enough in front of me. I got the stacked beads on his head, the shotgun butt firm on my shoulder, the fore end resting firm on my knee, left hand gripping the forearm tight , right hand gripping the pistol grip, finger on the trigger but his head is still down. The second he stretches out his neck I will squeeze the trigger. At the same time a thought goes threw my head- this is great I feel great I conned this turkey in and I am watching him I would be happy not killing this magnificent creature right about then he raised up his head the stacked beads of my shot gun are aligned with the bottom of his neck my finger is applying pressure to the trigger , boom he is flopping on the ground like a bolt of lighting has struck him from the sky or 2 1/4 ounces of nickel plated 5 shot traveling at 1300 fps. I am shaking I unload and jump out of my nature made oak tree blind to check out my 4th magnificent turkey- 22-pound and a shreaded stub of a beard I could not been more pleased. ( if some one would like to help me post a photo I would appreciate that)
There cannot be sunshine without rain I don’t know if you guys remember me asking for prays for my Dad around December but he lost is fight with esophageal cancer Friday 5:05 am eastern standard time. He had his esophagus removed in February but never recover from the stress of the surgery. My dad was not much of a duck hunter but he built a stitch and seam boat for my brother and I when we lived in Binghamton NY. My dad was a graduate of Rensselear polytech and an engineer by trade. After my mother passed my dad would come out to Minnesota for a couple weeks in the summer and we would head up to the boundary waters for fishing. Although my dad never owned a hunting dog he shared my enthusiasm for dogs and made a special trip to watch me and my gwp compete in the first senior hunt test we passed a few years back. I am thankful we shared those times I will miss him.
I sat tight till about 10am and snuck around the edge of the woods to see all the toms strutting around at the way back far corner of the plowed field behind me. The property I have permission to hunt is a quarter section with a wooded section that forms a cul-de-sac in the middle. I was sitting on the east edge of the woods. The turkeys where sitting on the other side of the woods on the far west edge bordering some one else’s property. I figured I come back in the afternoon and set up in the woods on one of the ridges. In the mean time I thought I could go to the other side of the property across the road which is a full section and has woods and plowed fields as well as a abandon fallen in farm stead. My plan was to set up in a fallen over oak tree close to the abandon farmstead. I busted a gobbler strutting around close that spot earlier in the week mid afternoon.
I snuck in to my spot in the fallen oak tree, Sat down on the ground and let out a couple of clucks Immediately got a gobble back - man did my heart start to race. I kept on clucking an yelping, the turkey gobbled back. This went on for what seemed like and hour. Some times he sounded close some times far away. I would cluck he would answer back with a set of gobbles. Crows flew over and would caw he would gobble back. Then it happened I caught a little movement out of the corner of my eye sure enough it was a turkey hanging on the edge of the woods. I lowered the volume and let out some soft clucks to be answer back by some gobbles but not from the bird handing 40 yards to my left in front of me. These gobbles came from behind and right. That got the pulse going !!! In the mean time I got my shotgun up on my knee and the butt on my shoulder , “oh shit the bolt is open” my shotgun is unloaded !!! In my excitement relocating I forgot to reload the gun!!!! I had the 3 shotgun shells in my cargo pocket in my pants. Now the bird in the woods is out of the woods and looking right at me, it was a hen. As soon as she turned her head I got a round in the chamber but she knew something was'nt quite right and is back staring right at me, I sat tight holding my breath not even blinking I could feel my eyes starting to dry! Again she looked away. I blink, breath and let out a couple soft clucks. She’s bobbing around trying to figure out what’s going on and is now 20 yards right out in front of me. The next time she turned I managed to slip round in the chamber undetected but did not closed the bolt in fear I would spoke her. Off to my right I catch some movement another turkey coming from behind coming down the over grown farm trail. This one has a big red white and blue puffy head, oh yeah its the gobbler. He stops and kind of goes into a half strut. The hen is right out front and getting farther out just bobbing and weaving making soft short cluck’s. I hold the bolt and hit the release to get the shell into battery as silently as possible and then give it one last push forward to insure battery. The hen doesn’t notice a thing, the other turkey is oblivious to me as well. I even manage to get another round into the magazine. I decide not to try to push my luck and try for a third -I am golden!! The hen is out at about 75 yards and the gobbler has moved in to 25 yards of my right rear. My heart is about to jump out of my chest- I am even starting to breath heavy- I need to calm down and breath. I sit motionless keeping an eye on him. He is puffed out, tail and all back to me. I can’t see his head. I got the shot gun up on my knee, face anchored on the stock, hand on the pistol grip, hand on the fore end, safety off,finger on the trigger but I can’t get the bead on him unless I shift position he’s to far right and behind. I can’t even see his head. He just needs to keep coming down the trail 15, 20 more feet, which he is in the process of doing in full tilt strut, his head, is tucked down in his breast. I just need to be still and wait he’s coming. A couple minutes pass he has moved far enough in front of me. I got the stacked beads on his head, the shotgun butt firm on my shoulder, the fore end resting firm on my knee, left hand gripping the forearm tight , right hand gripping the pistol grip, finger on the trigger but his head is still down. The second he stretches out his neck I will squeeze the trigger. At the same time a thought goes threw my head- this is great I feel great I conned this turkey in and I am watching him I would be happy not killing this magnificent creature right about then he raised up his head the stacked beads of my shot gun are aligned with the bottom of his neck my finger is applying pressure to the trigger , boom he is flopping on the ground like a bolt of lighting has struck him from the sky or 2 1/4 ounces of nickel plated 5 shot traveling at 1300 fps. I am shaking I unload and jump out of my nature made oak tree blind to check out my 4th magnificent turkey- 22-pound and a shreaded stub of a beard I could not been more pleased. ( if some one would like to help me post a photo I would appreciate that)
There cannot be sunshine without rain I don’t know if you guys remember me asking for prays for my Dad around December but he lost is fight with esophageal cancer Friday 5:05 am eastern standard time. He had his esophagus removed in February but never recover from the stress of the surgery. My dad was not much of a duck hunter but he built a stitch and seam boat for my brother and I when we lived in Binghamton NY. My dad was a graduate of Rensselear polytech and an engineer by trade. After my mother passed my dad would come out to Minnesota for a couple weeks in the summer and we would head up to the boundary waters for fishing. Although my dad never owned a hunting dog he shared my enthusiasm for dogs and made a special trip to watch me and my gwp compete in the first senior hunt test we passed a few years back. I am thankful we shared those times I will miss him.
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