- Joined
- Feb 8, 2010
- Messages
- 281
- Reaction score
- 221
I took my custom 12ga under hammer to the foothills of Central Washington in search of Merriams Turkey. The hunt began at day break on the 23rd. I had put a bird to bed on Sunday night and returned to the same canyon at dawn. After a very steep decent into the forested canyon I settled in and listened for the tell tale gobble. My canyon remained silent but I could hear gobbles rising from the private farm lands below. I spent 4 hours moving about the short ridges calling softly but had no luck getting a Tom to respond.
Later in the afternoon I moved to another series of canyons and began my hunt. On the second stop I was able to raise a gobble response. My hunting partner and I slowly made our way down a side ridge that would put us just above where we figured the bird to be. We agreed to call off and on for 20 minutes before relocating.
Right at the 20 minute mark with not one response, I was preparing my gear to move. 50 yards out and moving fast came several load gobbles. I quickly positioned my underhammer and cocked the hammer back. I called softly and got an immediate response. The bird was coming in! I raised my gun and waited. 3 Toms appeared from over the rise. The first was the mature bird. He never presented a clear shot. The second bird stopped in the open off to my left. The shot was down hill and I had to slowly lay on my left side to clear the brush screen in front. I had a clear shot but a unorthodox shooting position. Nothing is flat in this country. I squeezed the trigger and sent a "Skychief Special" load of #5's on its way.
When the smoke blew past, I could see my bird slowly walking off to my right. The other two birds ran off. I slowly raised my binos to have a look see. I could see that my birds head was very shinny and wet looking. I watched as the bird turned and slowly lay on its side.
The next event put a little wrinkle in the sheets. My partner ran up over the ridge and asked if I had gotten one. As you can guess my bird was able to stand and muster just enough go to jump and lock his wings and soar straight down into the canyon below.My heart sank!
My partner asked if that was the bird that I shot? I told him it was and I began my reload. He called back to me and said there was a good amount of blood on the ground where he took flight from.
I made my way over to the spot and sure enough there was a good amount of sign. My buddy told me had watched the bird all the way to the bottom of the canyon. He believed that he saw it fold up and crash.
My spirits were lifted with this news. We made our way to the canyon floor and began to search the crash area. After a little bit of searching my buddy yelped at me to get my attention. I looked over and there he was holding my bird up. I could not have been happier.
I'm not a good judge of turkey age but his "stubble", I mean beard was about 3 or 4 inches long. His fan was complete without the taller feathers that a Jake sports. I'm calling it a young Tom.
Thanks for reading the story. I do have plenty of pictures but like others here I do not posses the skills to post them
If any member would care to help I would gladly email or text pictures so all can see. The gun alone I think is worthy of a look.
Later in the afternoon I moved to another series of canyons and began my hunt. On the second stop I was able to raise a gobble response. My hunting partner and I slowly made our way down a side ridge that would put us just above where we figured the bird to be. We agreed to call off and on for 20 minutes before relocating.
Right at the 20 minute mark with not one response, I was preparing my gear to move. 50 yards out and moving fast came several load gobbles. I quickly positioned my underhammer and cocked the hammer back. I called softly and got an immediate response. The bird was coming in! I raised my gun and waited. 3 Toms appeared from over the rise. The first was the mature bird. He never presented a clear shot. The second bird stopped in the open off to my left. The shot was down hill and I had to slowly lay on my left side to clear the brush screen in front. I had a clear shot but a unorthodox shooting position. Nothing is flat in this country. I squeezed the trigger and sent a "Skychief Special" load of #5's on its way.
When the smoke blew past, I could see my bird slowly walking off to my right. The other two birds ran off. I slowly raised my binos to have a look see. I could see that my birds head was very shinny and wet looking. I watched as the bird turned and slowly lay on its side.
The next event put a little wrinkle in the sheets. My partner ran up over the ridge and asked if I had gotten one. As you can guess my bird was able to stand and muster just enough go to jump and lock his wings and soar straight down into the canyon below.My heart sank!
My partner asked if that was the bird that I shot? I told him it was and I began my reload. He called back to me and said there was a good amount of blood on the ground where he took flight from.
I made my way over to the spot and sure enough there was a good amount of sign. My buddy told me had watched the bird all the way to the bottom of the canyon. He believed that he saw it fold up and crash.
My spirits were lifted with this news. We made our way to the canyon floor and began to search the crash area. After a little bit of searching my buddy yelped at me to get my attention. I looked over and there he was holding my bird up. I could not have been happier.
I'm not a good judge of turkey age but his "stubble", I mean beard was about 3 or 4 inches long. His fan was complete without the taller feathers that a Jake sports. I'm calling it a young Tom.
Thanks for reading the story. I do have plenty of pictures but like others here I do not posses the skills to post them
If any member would care to help I would gladly email or text pictures so all can see. The gun alone I think is worthy of a look.
