Friday May 26, 2006

I got to hunt with my old landlord from Cobleskill today. Aaron and I went up to Sausage Hill because I haven't been up there yet this year for a morning hunt. I didn't spend much time listening on the top, because I had a good feeling that the bird I heard on last Sunday would be on the backside again. Well, we got down there and sure enough, he gobbled. He was a long way off, but it was possible we could sneak along the top of the ridge and get on him. Well, as we made our way to the top of the ridge, we ran into a hunter, walking away from where the bird was, so I gave up on that one. The main reason I wanted to go up there was so I could try and pattern this bird that is just off the property and make up a game plan to try and hunt him one of the days that I will be here. Well, when we got back to the truck at about 6:30 I gave a call and a distant gobble rang out. I wasn't sure where, so we got to the edge of the woods ASAP. It turned out to be coming from the direction of the field where I had seen that bird strutting with the 6 hens last weekend. As we drove out, we spotted the birds on the crest of a cut cornfield right behind the barns, WHERE I CAN HUNT! We immediately snuck around behind the barn, using an old shale bank as cover. I belly crawled out a bit and set out a breeding tom/hen combo decoy with bobble heads. I made a few calls and didn't get the immediate "running in" response I was looking for. I didn't know what their plan was, so we just drove back up on the hill high enough to observe through my new awesome Leupold bino's. The group of 4 hens and the one longbeard had moved to the far side of the hill. While watching them Aaron spotted a pair of jakes sneaking in from the bottom of the bowl, on the other side of the pond. They were actually going after a fifth hen that had left the group to nest, and they were following her back up on the hill. I thought that we could sneak around the pines behind Larry's old house and get a chance at calling to them. As soon as we took two steps away from my bright yellow truck that didn't seem to bother them, they bolted. They headed right to the spot where Bill Lang killed his bird on opening day last year. I figured we could get up by where Larry used to have his treestand and get a real chance at calling them. We drove up, ran all the way down the ridge, then down to the finger ridge where they were. We setup in a good spot, called and called, but no response. We decided they must have gotten past us. So, we hiked back out and got in the truck again, and as we got to the bottom of the hill, we spotted the big tom and his hens headed in the same direction, but at a much slower, feeding pace through the cornfield. I killed my bird first weekend last year from the same spot. So, back up the hill we went again. We sat up by the aspens to watch and make sure they were going there before we committed to the hike again. Good thing, because the gobbler turned his hens and went back towards the barns. As we watched I noticed the hens heading back towards the finger ridge. This time the gobbler broke strut and followed. Gobbling the entire time by the way. Well, when it was obvious they were coming to the ridge behind the cornfield, I made my move. We ran down that hill all the way, past where Bill had shot his, to the very end of the cover. I could see the birds through the pines, and I snuck out and put a hen decoy in the open. I had Aaron set up on a rock, and man, even with dark, leafy camo, I couldn't even see him, and I knew he was there. It was perfect. Well, I tucked back into a lone pine tree and called softly. The bird gobbled at me, and the hens fired up with short series' of yelps and clucks. I could see them working towards us and I warned Aaron. The strutter ran up onto the side of the finger ridge even with us, but at about 100yds. I shut up with hopes that he would come investigate. I watched him go more than 100yds from his hens earlier in the morning and return with a new hen from the woods. Well, he never gobbled again, and as I started to get nervous, I had to make another move. I told Aaron to sit still, and I ran back behind the pines to the edge of the woods, calling the whole time and then I walked down to the field where I could sneak a peek at what was happening. I didn't see any birds, so I went back and got Aaron and we admitted defeat. Well, as we were packing up, I witnessed the hens all heading over the hill behind the barns, and then out of no where, the gobbler came up from below the crest in the field. After coming in, he must have walked straight away from us and made a huge loop. We hiked out yet again and left for good. I couldn't tell where the birds had gone. I ran down to the college and picked up my degree and the we ran back up to The Corners. I saw one hen behind the vacant yellow house. Then we parked at the culvert and walked in towards the pond. It was 11:30 now. My first call was cut off by a gobble above the pond. That's the first bird I've heard up there in three years. The last one being my dad's first bird ever, that ran in and we killed in minutes. So, when I heard that we sprinted up to the same trees we sat on for my dad's bird. I called and he gobbled every once and a while, but not very aggressively. I decided he was still over 100yds out, and decided to move up on him. I moved up to the lower edge of the big pine plantation and made a few calls. NOTHING! I don't think we spooked him, I think it was the weather. He was gobbling at the thunder just a few minutes before, and as the minutes passed, the sky turned completely black. I leaned forward and asked Aaron if he had seen the bird, and he said no. "It's time to get out of here then", I said. We made it half way back to the truck and the sky opened up. It rained so hard the windshield wipers couldn't even keep up when we weren't even moving. The truck clock read 12:15, so I guess legally, it's a good thing we backed out. It's hard to keep track when you have gobbles to listen to!