Blackfalcon Custom Calls

Specialty Long Box Turkey Calls

                                                      Grandpa's Knob Fall Gobbler

 

I finally escaped into the woods this morning, and it was a beautiful morning to be in the turkey woods. I hiked up over a mountain know locally as Grandpa's Knob to get above some birds I had scouted out. Halfway up, I realized I had forgotten my water bottle, and so , upon reaching the top, I sat down for a spell to cool off and catch my breath.

After a ten minute rest,watching the antics of some crows and ravens in the treetops, and listening to their raccous calling, I continued on and soon found a nice place to set up. I called sparingly with the trumpet, and heard some birds a long ways off, apparently I had overshot my goal. After sitting there for about an hour, just in case any meandered my way, I back tracked heading almost away from the birds I had heard, and then circled around and down over a long treacherous hill. I stopped by a blowdown and called with the trumpet again and was answered immediately by a hen directly in front of me.

 I settled in and soon saw the hen coming my way,  she headed to the right to circle around the blowdown. I kept watching and kept the conversation going with the trumpet, and soon I saw a pair of gobblers at about 60 yards coming slowly along the same route the hen had taken. The gobblers became engaged in a sparring contest, and I got to enjoy quite a show they put on, for what seemed like about a half hour.

They were wrestling with their necks entwined, something I had seen pictures of but had never personally witnessed. At this point, I was wishing I had my video camera. I was tempted to ease a little closer, but didn't know where the hen had gone, and I knew there were more birds  couldn't see. I kept telling myself to be patient and let this play out as I knew it would one way or another.

After a while, I couldn't see the toms anymore, so I slipped the long box out of my vest and yelped. A hen answered and I answered her back, word for word and one more. Everything seemed to go quiet. At this point, as always when hunting turkeys, I began wondering if I had over called and made them nervous, second guessing myself,but held tight. I picked up the trumpet again and called softly, and caught a glimpse of the toms heading my way. I heard the hen to my right, almost behind me now, and I was afraid I was going to get busted any minute.

The toms were heading towards a deer trail, it was the only area open enough in the brush where I could get a shot, so I eased the gun over and got in position to be ready.

After what seemed like an eternity, one of the gobblers stepped out into the open spot where I had my gun trained, and the Lefever spoke. The shot rolled the gobbler, other birds took to flight in a pandemonium of flapping wings. The gobbler I was watching begin rolling back down the mountain, and the chase was on. I finally caught up with him, and spent a few moments giving thanks for such a wonderful morning in the turkey woods and for the harvest of such a fine mountain gobbler.

 

 

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