Tommy 2-Tone The "Fat-Head Gobbler"

[slaw]

Tommy 2-Tone

The “Fat-Head Gobbler”

The 2010 spring turkey hunt started out like any other season in the past. I went around my place of work with a diaphragm call in my mouth clucking and yelping weeks before the opening day. A fellow teammate sent me this call he had made with my specific requirements. I mastered it and was very pleased with its realistic sound. Its sharp cutting capabilities were worthy of any championship caller.

The day before the season opener came and I found myself sitting next to a little lake before daylight with anticipation of hearing the woods erupt with the sounds of a turkey hunters dream. I started to pull a hoot owl call out of my pocket at the first signs of light to jumpstart the boys of spring. Before I had a chance to exploit my hooting prowess, the real mccoy sounded off and stole my thunder. Apparently the gobblers were awaiting this like an orchestra waiting for the Miestro to srtike his wand. The spring mating ritual of gobblers thundering echoed through the valleys and creek bottoms. The hoot owls seem to multiply . In a matter of seconds, it seemed they were competing with the turkeys, trying to drown each other out. I took a mental note of the location of all the different gobblers and headed back to farm house to report my findings to the landowner and talk over a strategy on the birds for the next morning.

After talking it over with Ron, we had a game plan to set up on a particular group of birds the next morning. The next step is to go out at about dark thirty and confirm their roosting in the same spot. To our surprise, we couldn’t raise a gobble where our plan of attack was to be concentrated on. We did hear a couple gobbles toward the back 40 that I wanted to concentrate my set-up on. Ron was still adamant about setting up in the ground blind for he has seen numerous birds in the field behind his house.

The next morning I found myself sneaking up a 4-wheeler trail and nestling into the base of an old oak tree, approximately between two gobblers that I heard the night before. The main bird I was set up on , for whatever reason , never made a sound while every other gobbler in the area sounded off at first light. Then the second gobbler that was to my back sounded off and was a lot closer than I had expected. With that came an about face and get set for some action. As his thunder echoed through the creek bottoms below me, so did the sound of his two girlfriends he had shacked up with the evening before. My heart sank upon hearing them, cause I knew it was going to be hard to pull a gobbler away from two hens . The two hens were very vocal. So I started cutting up a storm with a few raspy yelps thrown in for good measure, when he cut me off gobbling. I fell silent for a moment . A few more cuts from a diaphram call that a friend made me convinced me he was interested in me as he cut my calling off with a thunderous gobble so loud I knew he had came off the roost and was headed my way.My better instinct told me it was time to play the silent, come look for me game. He gobbled again and again , with each becoming louder and louder. His gobble had a 2-tone to it. In the middle of each gobble the tone would shift like that of a young teenager when their voice is changing. I still haven’t seen this bird even though he’s within 30 yards of me. He come out of the bottoms up to the flat I was on in line with two big trees. Then in all his glory, he stepped out from behind them in full strut. The safety went off of the ol’ Mossberg and was awaiting a few more steps to assure a clear shot. He made one more gobble that sounded more like a yodler .He then broke strut and stretched out his head and neck to look for the hen of his dreams. The fiber –optic sights were steady and after the recoil from a 3and a half inch magnum load of number sixes, a silence that was eerie came over the woods. I looked out to see if I got him and all I could see was a dark spot on the ground with an ever so slowly raising of one wing, as if to say here I am, you got me. This ol’ boy made sure I would never forget this trip out of the turkey woods. He was the heaviest bird I ever killed. 23 pounds of turkey slung over your shoulder , will feel more like a hundred after a while. I cherished every step of the way back to the house. A special thanks go to Ron Cooper who made this all possible.

Story by: Steve Kofahl

[Goinghuntin]

The safety went off of the ol’ Mossberg and was awaiting a few more steps to assure a clear shot.

:whip::rockon:

He was the heaviest bird I ever killed. 23 pounds of turkey slung over your shoulder , will feel more like a hundred after a while.

I can testify to that! Awesome story and congrats on a great hunt!

Nathan

[camoman1]

Thats a great story and congrats on a great bird!!

[WHISKEYSWAMP]

great story and nice bird... congrats!

[HUNTINGMAN]

One fine looking bird.

[Diamond Archer 01]

Awesome story and congrats on a great bird.

[redbeard]

Awesome bud, that's the way I like 'em to come in, with their wings held high!! Congrats.

[Rhino]

Congrats...awesome story...felt like I was there with you.