Larry A. Smail's Blog

  Bob and I just turned to go up a hill when I heard what I thought was a very distant gobbler. The time was 5:32 A.M. My step father, Bob had plans to watch and listen at “his” spot. I went after the gobbler.  

I could faintly hear gobbles as I walked along and up the hill. Upon reaching the summit I located where the gobbler was roosting. I was approximately 140 yards or so. I settled in.

As the time moved along I clucked a few times. Another tom exploded across the hollow. Later, a third gobbler would serenade the morning time. I did three tree yelps and waited.

Soon, I realized the gobbler was down and still interested. I wasn’t hearing any hens yet. That was a good sign!

I clucked a few more times and waited. The big bird moved in and began gobbling close. I couldn’t see him at all since two large oaks were directly  between the two of us. It stayed on site and gobbled and I clucked once more. That did it! I could see him on the right of the trees now, but I couldn’t see his beard due to a mossy stump and low vegetation. The gobbler would soon solve the issue for me. He turned to his right and he would be entering a more open area. I adjusted the shotgun as he went behind the trees again.

    The gobbler came into the opening and I could readily see a nice beard and in seconds the twenty-six yard shot was completed.

I stood over the bird and gave thanks. I tagged the gobbler and began taking some photos.

Bob heard the shot and knew the result. He is smart that way! The next step was to locate cousin Donnie. Our tradition is to place a feather on the wiper upon success. Later, I stopped at my mother’s home. (Another tradition.)

The gobbler was a two-year old with 5/8 inch spurs. He weighed at around 20.5 pounds and had multiple beards. There longest beard was nine and a half inches and the shortest was five inches. (There were four beards.)

The Old Boss Hen