Decided to head back to WI for the last season. Only got to hunt Wednesday-Sunday, but the weather was perfect.
My dad and uncle have never been here, so I gave them the good spots and planned to hunt a very large field.
As I figured, the birds had been hunted hard and flew into and out of the field, no call, or decoy could coax them away from the few hens they still had. Had a couple of close calls, but nothing to write home about.
Then, on Friday morning I had a bird in range, but the dense timber gave him a pass.
Friday afternoon, I decided to hit a smaller field that I had never been to. About half way through, I hear what I thought was 3 birds together gobbling. I slipped down and saw 3 jakes from about 200 yards doing what jakes do best, acting a fool. They gobbled a few more times at absolutely nothing while they were jumping and fighting. Next thing I know, Mr. Big steps out of a bottom to see what the deal was.
He proceeded to whip the snot out of each one of those jakes, running the out of the field. As soon as he calmed down and started strutting, I decided to send him some love notes. GOBBLE!!! To my amazement, he stated my way. At about 100 yards, for no apparent reason, he strutted one last time, the broke strut and pecked his way back into the woods, not amour of calling could stop him.
I didn't want to bump him, so I waited about 20 minutes to make sure he was gone.
I made my way to where he and the jakes went 3 rounds at and found a perfect little tree. I leaned my gun up and let out a loud 5 note Yelp to see if anything else was around. After about 3 seconds, I see 4 red heads pop over the hill @ 50 yards , RUNNING TOWARDS ME.
As quickly as I could, I grabbed my A5 and swung around. They were already at 20 yards and the gobbler knew he messed up. He took to the sky but not before I got my bead on him. I knocked him down and gave him a finishing shot.
Not the prettiest, but meat was in the freezer.
1-1/8" Spurs
9-1/2" Beard
22 Pounds
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