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Anyone familiar with the Muskoka area will know how beautiful it is! It is covered with lakes, rivers and forest as far
as the eye can see. As great as that may sound, it still lacks one very important thing.turkey season; there is no turkey
season north of the Severn River. After getting married and moving from Peterborough to Bracebridge I was forced to watch my
two brothers enjoy all our hunting property. Well, when the first spring started to come around I knew I could not sit and
needed to find some woods to play in. My wife works in the Barrie area as a dental hygienist. She is well trained at her trade
but equally trained at probing patients for hunting land information. She happened to have a few patients who claimed to have
a problem with turkeys and being two weeks before the opener that was all the info I needed. I got directions and headed off
to offer my assistance.
When I pulled into the farmer's house he was just coming outside from lunch; perfect timing! After introductions he
assured me that he did have some turkeys he wanted shot and was willing to let me do it. To my dismay I was the eighth person
granted permission and probably not the last. As luck would have it he was just heading out to the pasture to catch newborn
calves and needle, tag, and castrate them. Having paid my way through school farming, I was more than eager to lend a hand.
After a few hours of cattle wrangling and some manure-scented clothes I had earned my spot and some important information on
where the birds are all times of day. Farmers are the best people to ask for scouting tips. They know the land like they know
their barns and trust me they keep an eye on everything, including where the animals are.
The farm was 300 acres with the middle portion being 120 acres of pasture. Each outside edge had 40 acres of hardwoods. It
was a beautiful property with large rolling hills cutting through. The only way to make it safe and fair was for the property
to be divided into three and each hunter would have to sign in and out while hunting. When you signed in that 100 acre parcel
was your's until you signed out. I knew there was a lot of competition for those three spots so I made sure I did my scouting
and knew what the birds were doing.
On the fourth day of the season I was running late, I didn't arrive until 7 am. The piece of land I
wanted already had two hunters on it so I went to another piece and hunted without so much as a response. I returned to my
vehicle at 8:30 and the
two hunters were just leaving. I asked how they had made out and they explained they had worked a bird but he never came
closer than 100 yards in the woods. I knew that is where the big Tom was and figured I would give him a try. I went to the
opposite end of the property and set up in the woods on the other side of where they had heard the gobbler. After my first
sequence of calls he fired right up. I sat patiently being sure not to over call knowing he had heard plenty of options earlier that morning. I was using my diaphragm and called back with some very soft cluck and
purr's. He kept gobbling but held up on the other side of the wooded hill only 50 yards away. I knew the hunters earlier in
the morning described him
doing the same thing at the end they were at. I figured he was with a group of hens and was just not willing to leave. I was
confident he knew he had other options and it was just a matter of time. I figured it was the huge gobbler I had seen while
scouting in the pre season and I was not willing to let him get call shy. The problem was I lived an hour away and was not
able to get back to this property for another week. Knowing three more hunters could be back in there the next day I made
the decision to come back at noon and see if I could catch him alone.
I know mid-day is not the recommended time to hunt turkeys but I was confident this bird would still
be in the area. I returned at noon and set up 500 yards away from where I was earlier but inside the same tree line. I let
out a few soft
clucks and then a shock gobble. Within seconds I heard the heart-thumping gobble thunder through the trees. He was 300 yards
away with some thick woods between us toward my earlier set up. I knew that gobbler had not traveled more then 100 yards
since I was there a few hours earlier. I repeated the process 3 times over 30 minutes and he responded each time but never
inched any closer. After I made the third call I quickly packed up and headed out into the field and crept up the tree line.
When I reached the spot I figured he was, I slowly stalked into the woods 75 yards and set up almost to the top of a pine
ridge. The last gobble I had heard had come from the gully on the other side. With no decoy and unsure if I was right on top
of him or not I quietly found a seat, then ranged the area and rested the gun on my knee. I still had the diaphragm in my
mouth and buckled the slate call onto my thigh and ever so softly made a short sequence of clucks and purr's. My heart sank
when I heard nothing, the woods was absolutely still. I waited five minutes and repeated the process.still nothing. I
figured
I had spooked the long beard as I crept up the pine ridge. I sat discouraged for 10 more minutes and then repeated the same
calls this time with more volume; before I could finish he cut me off with a huge gobble that shook every fiber of my being.
He was over the hill in the gully no more than 100 yards away. My visibility was limited as I stared up and across the
plateau on the ridge. I could see 60 yards but did not have a clear shot until 35 yards. I got the gun ready and let him
come, two minutes later he spoke again this time 10 yards closer. I responded with a very soft purr and he went again. It
was show time and I was loving every minute of it. Seconds later he gobbled, again this time just out of sight. I opted not
to respond and just intently watched the opening he was coming towards. All of a sudden there he was, the big flaming red
head started to bob through the trees on a steady walk. He closed the gap from 60 yards to 40 in seconds. I had my shooting
lane picked out and as he walked behind the tree at 40 yards I made sure the gun was on the spot. When he re-emerged from
behind the big pine I saw his thick broad beard as it swayed with each step. I knew it was my bird and he was only steps away
from a clear shot at 35 yards. When he entered my 3 foot hole I clucked with the diaphragm and like a bird that knew the
routine he stopped and let out one last gobble, I pulled the bead on where his head and neck met and squeezed the shot. He
instantly folded over and began to flop; I reloaded and held the gun on him to see if he would get up. I was thrilled to see
he stayed down and I cautiously walked over to my bird. When I got to him I could not help but think I had just shot a
mid-day monster turkey. He was 20.3 lbs, 1 ¼" spurs, 10 ½" beard with beautiful thick mass. He was a true trophy and a bird
I am very proud of. I quickly pulled out the cell phone and called Kevin and Paul to tell them I had just shot a mid-day
monster.
For those of you who have yet to turkey hunt be sure to put it at the top of your priorities. It is an
incredible hunt to go on and pound for pound some of the most exciting hunting you will ever do.
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