KayakMacGyver
Well-known member
- Joined
- Jun 8, 2018
- Messages
- 338
After ten years of hunting turkey, I developed a desire last year to chase different turkey species in different areas. After lining up a trip out west to hunt Merriam’s, I thought it would be really cool to try and complete the grand slam all in the same year. If all went according to plan, I'd pull a permit for an Osceola in South Florida, kill an eastern near my house in North Florida, get my Merriam in May on the planned western trip to Nebraska, then divert somewhere for a Rio if the plan worked out. Unfortunately, I never drew a permit to hunt Osceola’s and abandoned the idea of the Grand Slam all in one year. I was successful in getting a couple Merriam’s and an Eastern, thoroughly enjoying my season...so no love lost. My goal shifted to focusing on the single year grand slam in 2021, which leads me to what I hope will be the first of at least four stories this season.
This year my wife and I both drew permits for Osceola country. Florida allows a guest on most quota hunts, which meant we'd increase our odds and share hunting time. We bring our kids (2 and 3) with us whenever possible, so right now we are splitting days. Through opening weekend in early March, we hunted hard for four straight days. While driving out, after having packed our entire camp and all of our gear, we spotted 3 gobblers strutting for hens in a field on the WMA. I quickly tore apart the truck to get my hunting gear back on and made the stalk. The whole thing went perfectly to script, until the shot. Long story short, after reaping the long-beard to 15 yards, I missed. Turns out that I had been aiming my wife's shotgun, which I prefer to my Benelli Nova due to its compact size, incorrectly. My idiocy actually cost my wife two Merriam’s last May as well. Long story short, I had instructed her to line the bead up on the bird wrong. Instead of "sitting the ball on a shelf", I had "learned" to cover up half the ball with the rail. Hindsight being what it is, we were basically shooting at the ground. No idea when I got this bright idea, and I killed a bird last season with her gun this way, but we’ve since corrected the issue with a red dot.
Last weekend we headed down for our second Osceola hunt. It is only a two-day hunt with a shared bag limit of just one gobbler per permit. My wife hunted the first day while I stayed back at camp with the kids. Unfortunately, she wasn’t able to work a bird, but did have plenty of hen action. Sunday morning was my opportunity before we made the long drive back to Tallahassee.
I got set up 20 minutes before twilight and was pleasantly surprised by the sound of a bird gobbling from the roost several hundred yards away shortly after I sat down. As dawn approached, more birds gobbled, but all ¼ mile or more away. I did, however, have several hens roosted in the trees all around me and I love live bait.
At flydown, two hens land in a small opening about 100 yards from me. They fed towards my direction and I anxiously wished to myself they would stay nearby in hopes that they would draw in a Tom. A single gunshot from a nearby hunter, which resulted in a dead gobbler, spooked them and they diverted course. Wouldn’t you know, about that time a Tom showed up just out of shotgun range and pursued them in the wrong direction. Despite attempting every call I could imagine, there was no changing his mind and they disappeared into a far away cypress bottom.
In a last-ditch cutting sequence to attract the fleeing Tom, I received a response from a bird more than 500 yards behind me. Hit it again and the bird cut me off. Hit it one more time and was again cut-off and he had now cut the distance significantly. At this point it was time to shut up. Seconds dragged on like hours and my impatience for lack of attention from a gobbling bird got the best of me. Hit the soft purr and was immediately hammered by a GOBBLE, less than 100 yards behind me. As I turned to re-position, the bird flew into the field from the fenced neighboring property. He was HOT. The gobbler immediately went into full strut, spitting and drumming, then tucked and ran right to me. Watching a turkey beard swing back and forth like a pendulum as he is running towards you is about as good as it gets. When the bird got to 30 yards he went into full strut again and ripped a gobble. At that point I lined up for the shot. There was some apprehension in my trigger squeeze, but the red-dot install proved a fruitful endeavor. First Osceola down!
This weekend we have a sweet permit near the house where I've patterned three gobblers hitting a small bottom every morning. Hope to report back with more great success!
10” beard, 1 ¼” spurs
This year my wife and I both drew permits for Osceola country. Florida allows a guest on most quota hunts, which meant we'd increase our odds and share hunting time. We bring our kids (2 and 3) with us whenever possible, so right now we are splitting days. Through opening weekend in early March, we hunted hard for four straight days. While driving out, after having packed our entire camp and all of our gear, we spotted 3 gobblers strutting for hens in a field on the WMA. I quickly tore apart the truck to get my hunting gear back on and made the stalk. The whole thing went perfectly to script, until the shot. Long story short, after reaping the long-beard to 15 yards, I missed. Turns out that I had been aiming my wife's shotgun, which I prefer to my Benelli Nova due to its compact size, incorrectly. My idiocy actually cost my wife two Merriam’s last May as well. Long story short, I had instructed her to line the bead up on the bird wrong. Instead of "sitting the ball on a shelf", I had "learned" to cover up half the ball with the rail. Hindsight being what it is, we were basically shooting at the ground. No idea when I got this bright idea, and I killed a bird last season with her gun this way, but we’ve since corrected the issue with a red dot.
Last weekend we headed down for our second Osceola hunt. It is only a two-day hunt with a shared bag limit of just one gobbler per permit. My wife hunted the first day while I stayed back at camp with the kids. Unfortunately, she wasn’t able to work a bird, but did have plenty of hen action. Sunday morning was my opportunity before we made the long drive back to Tallahassee.
I got set up 20 minutes before twilight and was pleasantly surprised by the sound of a bird gobbling from the roost several hundred yards away shortly after I sat down. As dawn approached, more birds gobbled, but all ¼ mile or more away. I did, however, have several hens roosted in the trees all around me and I love live bait.
At flydown, two hens land in a small opening about 100 yards from me. They fed towards my direction and I anxiously wished to myself they would stay nearby in hopes that they would draw in a Tom. A single gunshot from a nearby hunter, which resulted in a dead gobbler, spooked them and they diverted course. Wouldn’t you know, about that time a Tom showed up just out of shotgun range and pursued them in the wrong direction. Despite attempting every call I could imagine, there was no changing his mind and they disappeared into a far away cypress bottom.
In a last-ditch cutting sequence to attract the fleeing Tom, I received a response from a bird more than 500 yards behind me. Hit it again and the bird cut me off. Hit it one more time and was again cut-off and he had now cut the distance significantly. At this point it was time to shut up. Seconds dragged on like hours and my impatience for lack of attention from a gobbling bird got the best of me. Hit the soft purr and was immediately hammered by a GOBBLE, less than 100 yards behind me. As I turned to re-position, the bird flew into the field from the fenced neighboring property. He was HOT. The gobbler immediately went into full strut, spitting and drumming, then tucked and ran right to me. Watching a turkey beard swing back and forth like a pendulum as he is running towards you is about as good as it gets. When the bird got to 30 yards he went into full strut again and ripped a gobble. At that point I lined up for the shot. There was some apprehension in my trigger squeeze, but the red-dot install proved a fruitful endeavor. First Osceola down!
This weekend we have a sweet permit near the house where I've patterned three gobblers hitting a small bottom every morning. Hope to report back with more great success!
10” beard, 1 ¼” spurs
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