# By George! An ILLINOIS turkey tale.



## zettler (Sep 7, 2002)

*By George!
By Bob Zettler
April 14, 2008*

"Not again," I cried out internally as the second deer this morning came prancing towards me in the woods as I was sitting in wait for a Spring Gobbler. Just like last year when I had a whole herd of them come waltzing into the wild turkeys I had spread out in front of me with that BIG Tom strutting his way into range, here I am again with one of those antlerless Bucks walking right at me while I have three Gobblers at about 300 yards working their way across the meadow and into the bottoms below me.

But let's recap before I digress again as usual&#8230;

It was the day before our first season of the North Zone for wild turkey in Illinois and I was almost ready. I had hauled all my turkey gear out of the garage and sorted it into what I would take with me, what I would hold in reserve and what ought to be tossed but will hold onto for that day I "might" need it. Earlier, I had sorted through my arsenal of shotguns and their respective chokes before settling on three that might be the weapon of choice. These three I took out to my friend's farm and patterned them against each other. All three would do the trick, with the Mossberg achieving such a dense pattern I was worried I might miss! I settled on the Beretta Extrema 2 with its factory full choke and added an Allen florescent site pin as it achieved a pretty good pattern and just felt right. Maybe it felt "right" as I was pretty whooped from firing the Turkey loads through all three shotguns with different chokes and the like&#8230;but I was ready!

Anyway, I was all set for my first morning out before 8 PM on Sunday: guns were ready; clothes were put aside for two days and a backup set for me in the car; my calls were (somewhat) tuned; the turkey vest was properly equipped as well as my trusty fanny pack that actually held most of my gear; the (replacement) permit was signed; the license and FOID was all there and legal; cell phone was set to vibrate; a breakfast, snacks and liquid refreshments were placed in the car (temps were going to be in the upper 20's); all my other accessories were stuffed into my boots to await the mornings final dressing at the site; and the car was somewhat cleaned, gassed and packed.

To celebrate being ready early I had a piece of my daughter's chocolate birthday cake just before bed. This was a mistake that I realized later on around Midnight when the tasty treat kept me awake when I should have been asleep for over two hours - or at least that is what I think caused it. Yet, maybe it was the anticipation as I have always had a difficult time getting to sleep before a major morning such as deer hunting season, duck hunting season, pheasant hunting season, so why should turkey season be any different? Yet, I had been stressing over my health and physical condition lately so I might be just a trifle concerned over the pending exertion too. In any case, I did not sleep much and was awake long before the alarm went off at 4 AM. Even though I had everything ready and just had to get dressed, I still took extra time to check my email before hitting the road and was motoring north on Route 4# before 4:30 AM.

Now this is what gets me. Here it is 4:30 AM and I am on the major road headed north along the affluent west side of Springfield and I cannot understand how I keep getting a red light while the east-west traffic has green with no vehicles! Ludicrous! The traffic flow should provide for the majority but at 4:30 AM in the morning the City Fathers feel it is better served providing for those wealthy residents on either side of Route 4#...

Finally, I am westbound and making my way over the Illinois River where I can see the early vestiges of sunrise to the east. I had been worried I would be too late when I left home and heard the birds already chirping but it looks like I am pretty close to schedule when I pull into my parking spot on the far end of the farm I am about to hunt. This property is where George Moon use to hunt and is basically a rectangle&#8230;a very long rectangle bordered by a road and forest on the other side with a couple of ponds thrown in here and there. Last year I had finally followed some of George's earlier counsel and connected with a nice bird and now I was prepared to stay close to the pond at the onset since shooting time was just 15 minutes away. However, no birds were gobbling anywhere near but they sure were at the other end by the farm house and near where I had almost connected that last day of the season just a year ago. Being out-of-shape just about killed me SOB hunting last month when we hunted a muddy field but this would be a little easier as the fields were flat and dry but long&#8230;right!

It was a good quarter-mile hike to the other end and that bird was already on the ground maybe 120 yards from where I was last year but this time I decided to stay out of the deer stand and hunt him from the ground as he was now about 75 yards away and below me. Took me two or three spots before I settled on a tree to sit up against as any closer and either he would spot me or I could shoot him! I placed myself about 15 yards inside the woods from the edge of the corn field and facing the drop-off to the bottoms and pasture below where I could hear him but not see him.

I took out my Aluminator friction call and managed a couple of yelps to which he immediately responded. Life is good! He goes quiet. Life is full of anxiety but my game is to be patient. OMG! He responds just on the other side of the trees in front of me and I can hear him gobbling, drumming and spitting. Geez, it's just about sunrise and I could be done soon&#8230;

Let the games begin! I make very few calls over the next 20 to 30 minutes and even had my safety off a couple of times when it sounded like he was about to pop his head up and over in front of me - he was that close - and this was after I had a deer walk through his position, get downwind of me and run BACK through the Tom's position! This must be one HOT old boy!!! Then he starts to cluck and I freak as this usually means he is headed elsewhere and sure enough, he heads back down the hill and off into woods I cannot hunt. It is so difficult to know that you just had a bird anywhere from 20 to 30 yards away and never even saw him while you could hear him strut back and forth. When I get up and look around the tree I see that there was a gully or drop-off there and understand why I never saw him but take a little solace in that I just might have matched wits with a smart bird that out-waited me for a change!

I still cannot get over the deer as I have seen 6 already and was now headed to the land behind where the landowner lives for a chance at one of the birds who are still gobbling, and here it is almost 7 AM. I get to the property edge and I have at least four gobblers down in the bottoms below me but I can only hunt to the bottom where his property ends so I decide on the ones to my right. Now this land drops off at least a 150 yards and it one steep mother! I get halfway down and hope it will be enough and then hear my first shot of the morning just after 7 AM and whoever it is in the distance had to make a follow-up shot to which at least two of the three gobblers respond to a second time. I decide to go further down the Alpine and spot one of those black *******s scooting across the pasture and quartering away from me followed by his buddies. This is when I can make out that there are at least three nice Tom's about 250 yards away along with at least four other turkeys.

They cross a fence line and head right up the opposite hillside to bask and strut at the top for all to see and it was sure a sight! They gobbled at distant gun shots, trucks bouncing off the roadway nearby, crows, passing geese and even my calling. And I was the sole witness and maybe just 300 yards away as I had made my way down to the streambed and along it to get closer to where they had come out of earlier in hopes they would return this route. And you know what? They started making their way right towards me and then cut directly away and into some woods I could not hunt but not before strutting and gobbling all over the place. I wish I had my camera with a good telephoto lens but my memory will have to serve me!


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## zettler (Sep 7, 2002)

*FINI*

It is now nearly 9 AM and I decide I have to try and make my way up this Midwest Himalayas which ended up taking me nearly 30 minutes of wheezing and gasping till I finally get up to the top and hear more birds down below. Nope, ain't gonna go there again as I have set my mind to go look for that one I had all hot and bothered first thing this morning - as it also puts me closer to my parked vehicle. After all, the more experienced turkey hunters say to go back and try for those early missed birds later in the morning but did they say between 9 and 10 or 10 and 11??? Who cares as I am whooped from my hiking and climbing, and after all, this is just the first day of the first season and I have two more mornings off this week and two more permits as well for later in the season.

Anyway, those birds who I had chased just 30 minutes earlier and its cousins to the left are sounding off as I plod back towards where I started as if they were the Sirens from Ulysses, or was Odysseus?? No matter, as I will just plant my fat azz down as soon as I can find a nice spot close to where I started out so I can begin to build upon what I have already learned in the woods from my first day and hopefully capitalize on it before I have to stay at work later in the week&#8230;

I do not go as far this time into the woods but set up on a nice location where I have a field of fire all the way to the bottoms and I can see a good distance too. This is a lot better that earlier and within minutes I can hear at least three or more gobblers down below me to the right and about 200 to 250 yards away who have already responded to my box calls! However, as these might be the birds I had been close to but never worked just a little while ago, I sincerely hope they might be more interested than the ones I know that were with Hens. Thankfully, they do seem to be getting closer as they sound off each time I throw a few yelps their way!

Now this is where I decide to put my George experience to use and give my eyes a rest. You see George seemed to have pretty good luck on this farm and the one time at the pond where he suggested I hunt the first year, he had tagged his bird after a nap when the Tom woke him up! And as these birds were not running hot and heavy to me - or at least it did not sound so - I thought I could rest my eyes and still be ready when they closed the distance some more. And every few minutes I would open my eyes, listen and look to my right and maybe give a yelp of two to keep them interested and focused. Good plan, as after all I had already scared off that deer that was on a collision course with me when I first sat down! Isn't it amazing that you can scout for deer and set up for them on their previous runways and seldom see one during the season but come turkey season you can plop your derriere anywhere and I mean anywhere in the woods and within minutes they are homing in on you! At least this time I scared the Begezus out of this aspiring Buck when he got within 10 yards of me and I threw up both arms like a deranged orangutan and he ran off to my left while the birds that were gobbling back at me were coming from in front and to the right!

Now this is where it gets hazy, as I cannot recall if I heard something, sensed something, or simply saw him when I opened my eyes from a brief respite but all of a sudden there was a bird down below me which must have come from where I had worked that one first thing this morning some four hours earlier. At first I thought he might be a Jake as I did not see the length of his beard and he had come in stealth mode - that is, until I saw him and he started to Cluck. Now I cannot say whether he saw me and started to cluck or had just decided, "Shucks, might as well cluck and see if that Hen is about!" In any case I had a bird down below me which looked like he was getting a little nervous and I decided to bring my shotgun up and try a shot after he passed on the other side of a tree.

It was now or never and I pulled the trigger on what I felt was a 30+ yard shot at an average size bird. BAMMMMM!!! Down he went and I mean down! He kicked around a little and even though I was tired and moving slow, I knew there was no need to hurry as he was dead flopping. Still, I took my gun and began to climb down the hillside to tag him&#8230;and I kept walking and walking.

Boy, he was a tad farther away than I thought but I could clearly see the left side of his head was mush and blood was spurting out and onto the leaves. And when I grabbed him the first time I knew I had a big bird. No, the spurs weren't long spikes at just an inch, yet the beard was a little better than average, but this was a BIG bird! After dispatching him with the butt of my gun and tagging him I could see why I thought he was closer as he was a BIG bird! Granted, I was climbing uphill and taking shorter steps but I quit counting at 50 paces well before I arrived back at the firing line so you all do the math! I measured his beard at around 9 ¾+" and his spurs at just over and just below an inch before I arrived home where I weighed him at a little over 27 pounds (he was 27.4 pounds according to the scale when he was inside a 22 gallon Rubbermaid container that didn't even register when weighed separately)!!!

Yes, Oxbow, I did take lots of pictures to show the measurements&#8230;

That is one fine wild butterball as far as I am concerned! And while I cannot say with a 100% guarantee he was the same bird I worked earlier, he definitely came from that spot and I would like to chalk it up to my returning to an area where an early bird had hung up later in the morning that made it possible. As all the other birds I saw this morning were with others, and most likely Henned up, the early one had been alone just like this BIG Boy and I just want to believe I scored due to my tactics, patience and a lot of luck! And, as the title implies, I killed my second bird at this farm and just maybe old George Moon helped out - again!

God Bless you George.


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