Arkie John
Active member
Lil' Brother and I hit the turkey woods today for a little scoutin' before the big event, which begins next Saturday morning.
It reminded me of an ole tom that had to be the luckiest of them all. Can we tell you about it?
One day, Thomas and I went to the woods and split up as usual. We were about 300 yards apart and well out of sight of one another, but not hear-shot. It was an early, still spring morning, just perfect for addin' to the freezer a fine bird.
It wasn't long that I heard a bird just tearing it up quite a distance downrange. Even though he was a good piece away, he was coming closer. That's a GOOD thang! So here he came. But as he got to within a few hundred yards of me, he made a smart left-wing turn and proceeded directly to Lil' Brothers stand. There he went as Lil' Brother laid there patiently to spring the trap.
We were both bow hunting at the time and you must know that neither of us can say that we would put Robin Hood out of a job. We tend to hold our own, but sometimes, well, lets just say, sometimes we are just not up to speed in the accuracy department. More about that in a minute.
So here comes this old turkey, gobbling every other step and heading right for Tom. I kept waitin' for the tell-tale owl-hoot, signifying success, but it never came. Instead, the turkey made a right-wing turn and came up the draw between Tom and me, coming DIRECTLY for me. I loved it. I began to cut and call softly. The ole boy couldn't handle it. After 15 minutes or so, there he was, in full strut, 10-inch beard (or so), drumming so loud you could hear it a full 50 yards away. My heart was pumpin' 90 miles an hour.
The closer he came the more excited I got, as always. "You have to slow down, Johnboy" I kept reminding myself. But I didn't listen to my little ole self too well, it seems. Finally the turkey, gobbling all the time came directly at me in full strut and made a turn, right at my 30-yard marker and paralleled the blind. He was not coming any closer. He was heading for the ravine and had had enough of talking and not seeing that hen.
He approached my main shootin' lane and posed, broadside, right at my 30-yard point. I was already at full draw. I could hear the blood rushin' through my ears and the adrenalin was a flowin, let me tell you. I went "PUTT" and he froze. I settled the pin and cut the shot...a L O N G shot. It arched true--
--to a point. It came in a bit high and just skipped off the old boy's back, knocking a double hand full of feathers off his back. The arrow was to later show no penetration, no blood and great health for the turkey, much to my angst!
Now, once hit, the ole tom took flight just like a quail. He went tearin' down through the woods and I saw him light some 300 yards on the side of the opposing hill. The leaves had not fully come out yet and I could see him for a long way. He hit the ground running, all the way to the top of the next hill, I suppose.
I immediately went to the scene. Feathers everywhere and then my arrow. It was just a bounce shot,for which I was thankful. The magnificent, lucky ole devil was unhurt and ready for another day.
To add insult to injury, he began gobbling again within an hour and continued doing so until the end of the day. Can you believe that?
Now about 2:30 pm, Tom came to my stand and asked if I got a shot. I told him what happened and he just grinned. He got tightness across his face when I asked if HE had gotten a shot at the ole boy. "Hell, I got THREE shots. The first one at 20 yards and it was short. He just danced around a minute and I nocked another arrow and fired. I don't know where it went. I nocked ANOTHER arrow and fired. I don't know whether it went left right, over or under, but it did not hit the bird. I was down to ONE arrow, Johnboy!"
Boy, ole Thomas was steamed. I didn't help matters either, by grinnin' like a jackass eatin' cactus as he was talkin. Hey, that's just bow hunting. I missed my shot because I get SO excited. I can take the heat. Go ahead and turn it up. But if it ever gets to where it does NOT excite me, then I will have to find something else to do with my spare time. That old red head, that drummin', those tail feathers all fanned out there....and that THUNDEROUS gobble is enough to make any man's knees get weak and his aim a bit unsteady. Such is bow hunting for turkey. We just LOVE it!!! Can't you tell?
Back to the story: All was silent. Then I said, "that tom was one lucky bird to have the both of us unload a total of four arrows on him and all he lost was a few feathers!" He sho-nuff put it on BOTH of the Garrett boys that day. Turkey 1; Garrett Brothers zip...for now. He just dukied all over the both of us...THAT day.
Thinking back, as that turkey launched into the air, I thought I saw a distinct, parting sneer in his eye. Now I know why. As far as I know that bird is STILL roaming that scope of woods. Maybe things will turn out a little differently next time. Nevertheless of the outcome, we are sure to have one GREAT time...and maybe even another story for you.
So, now you know the story of...the Turk with the Smirk. Thanks for comin' along. <><
aj and Lil' Bro
It reminded me of an ole tom that had to be the luckiest of them all. Can we tell you about it?
One day, Thomas and I went to the woods and split up as usual. We were about 300 yards apart and well out of sight of one another, but not hear-shot. It was an early, still spring morning, just perfect for addin' to the freezer a fine bird.
It wasn't long that I heard a bird just tearing it up quite a distance downrange. Even though he was a good piece away, he was coming closer. That's a GOOD thang! So here he came. But as he got to within a few hundred yards of me, he made a smart left-wing turn and proceeded directly to Lil' Brothers stand. There he went as Lil' Brother laid there patiently to spring the trap.
We were both bow hunting at the time and you must know that neither of us can say that we would put Robin Hood out of a job. We tend to hold our own, but sometimes, well, lets just say, sometimes we are just not up to speed in the accuracy department. More about that in a minute.
So here comes this old turkey, gobbling every other step and heading right for Tom. I kept waitin' for the tell-tale owl-hoot, signifying success, but it never came. Instead, the turkey made a right-wing turn and came up the draw between Tom and me, coming DIRECTLY for me. I loved it. I began to cut and call softly. The ole boy couldn't handle it. After 15 minutes or so, there he was, in full strut, 10-inch beard (or so), drumming so loud you could hear it a full 50 yards away. My heart was pumpin' 90 miles an hour.
The closer he came the more excited I got, as always. "You have to slow down, Johnboy" I kept reminding myself. But I didn't listen to my little ole self too well, it seems. Finally the turkey, gobbling all the time came directly at me in full strut and made a turn, right at my 30-yard marker and paralleled the blind. He was not coming any closer. He was heading for the ravine and had had enough of talking and not seeing that hen.
He approached my main shootin' lane and posed, broadside, right at my 30-yard point. I was already at full draw. I could hear the blood rushin' through my ears and the adrenalin was a flowin, let me tell you. I went "PUTT" and he froze. I settled the pin and cut the shot...a L O N G shot. It arched true--
--to a point. It came in a bit high and just skipped off the old boy's back, knocking a double hand full of feathers off his back. The arrow was to later show no penetration, no blood and great health for the turkey, much to my angst!
Now, once hit, the ole tom took flight just like a quail. He went tearin' down through the woods and I saw him light some 300 yards on the side of the opposing hill. The leaves had not fully come out yet and I could see him for a long way. He hit the ground running, all the way to the top of the next hill, I suppose.
I immediately went to the scene. Feathers everywhere and then my arrow. It was just a bounce shot,for which I was thankful. The magnificent, lucky ole devil was unhurt and ready for another day.
To add insult to injury, he began gobbling again within an hour and continued doing so until the end of the day. Can you believe that?
Now about 2:30 pm, Tom came to my stand and asked if I got a shot. I told him what happened and he just grinned. He got tightness across his face when I asked if HE had gotten a shot at the ole boy. "Hell, I got THREE shots. The first one at 20 yards and it was short. He just danced around a minute and I nocked another arrow and fired. I don't know where it went. I nocked ANOTHER arrow and fired. I don't know whether it went left right, over or under, but it did not hit the bird. I was down to ONE arrow, Johnboy!"
Boy, ole Thomas was steamed. I didn't help matters either, by grinnin' like a jackass eatin' cactus as he was talkin. Hey, that's just bow hunting. I missed my shot because I get SO excited. I can take the heat. Go ahead and turn it up. But if it ever gets to where it does NOT excite me, then I will have to find something else to do with my spare time. That old red head, that drummin', those tail feathers all fanned out there....and that THUNDEROUS gobble is enough to make any man's knees get weak and his aim a bit unsteady. Such is bow hunting for turkey. We just LOVE it!!! Can't you tell?
Back to the story: All was silent. Then I said, "that tom was one lucky bird to have the both of us unload a total of four arrows on him and all he lost was a few feathers!" He sho-nuff put it on BOTH of the Garrett boys that day. Turkey 1; Garrett Brothers zip...for now. He just dukied all over the both of us...THAT day.
Thinking back, as that turkey launched into the air, I thought I saw a distinct, parting sneer in his eye. Now I know why. As far as I know that bird is STILL roaming that scope of woods. Maybe things will turn out a little differently next time. Nevertheless of the outcome, we are sure to have one GREAT time...and maybe even another story for you.
So, now you know the story of...the Turk with the Smirk. Thanks for comin' along. <><
aj and Lil' Bro
That must have been one heck of a commotion before that old turkey escaped...and he rubbed it in to boot with his gobbling an hour later. Thanks for sharing this funny hunting story, very enjoyable. Please have a great day! Kelley (Texas) 
