While I guided many days this Spring, I only got to hunt 3 mornings and one afternoon by myself. So that did not leave a lot of time or opportunities to bag a bird for us to eat. And after missing a big gobbler on one of those mornings, I was starting to think that there would be no wild turkey dinners for the Hunt family this year. And let me tell you, my boys want to see some wild game on the grill – especially since they consider their dad to be one of the greatest hunters in the world (as all young boys should!) 

Their questions about why I hadn’t killed a turkey were getting old, but their constant harping on my miss was really driving me crazy. I had to get my boys a turkey to hold, pet and eat. So I was kind of kicking myself for not shooting one of the jakes that I had several times at 10 yards and instead trying to shoot an older gobbler at 40.

However on the second to last day of the season, I hit the woods at 5pm for one last try. But between the horrible heat and the giant, swarming bugs, I didn’t have much hope or motivation left. Fortunately I spotted several young gobblers, some hens and one older gobbler in a chufa field as I made my way into the property.

I had already decided that if I saw any gobblers that I would not waste any time trying to get to the back of the property where I had seen lots of turkeys, but instead go right after any one that I saw. So I ran down the road past the field, down a logging road and into the back of a bottom that bordered the back of the chufa field. I then headed up through the bottom and back up towards the field where I then eased up to glass it in hopes that the gobblers had not moved off.

At first, I couldn’t see anything but hens in the field, but with the weeds being so tall, it was hard to spot them unless they were standing straight up looking around. But after a few minutes of glassing, I caught sight of four red heads about 150 yards out in the field – all jakes. I called lightly to them to see if they would come to me as well as to possibly make the older gobbler I had seen show himself.

I never saw the big gobbler again, but a couple of the hens started making their way to my side of the field with the four young gobblers behind them. So I just kept clucking and purring away for about an hour while they slowly fed into the corner of the field that I was hiding in.

When they reached 30 yards, I picked out the one jake that was twice the size of the rest and prepared to shoot. Only I hadn’t seen a hen walk right up behind me, and when I moved the gun barrel around on him, she went crazy putting. That sent the gobblers into a frenzy, and while they didn’t run off, they moved behind some big bushes that were in the field that blocked my shot. So I sat motionless until I thought that the hen had moved off, then I moved the gun barrel just slightly again.

Turns out the hen had not left, but was still standing quietly behind me, and this time she let out one lout putt and then took off flying into the hardwoods behind me. The gobblers took this as their que to leave the field too, and with that, they all took off too.

Luckily, the woods behind me are where the birds normally roost, so all of  the birds slowly took flight and attempted to head that way together. Only one of them didn’t make it. I dropped the hammer on him as he was getting his big, feathery self airborn!

The 14 pound jake with a 6 inch beard made the ride home with me where my two boys congratulated me and once again proclaimed me the greatest turkey hunter ever. Then after taking some pictures, I skinned him out and put him in the refrigerator until it was time to fire up the grill last night for a turkey celebration/dinner… He was very tasty, and I don’t think that any of us could tell that he didn’t have a 10 inch beard

Congratulations to everyone who got to enjoy the turkey woods this Spring, especially my friend Arthur over at SimplyOutdoors who just killed his first turkey! And remember it is all about having a great time and a great hunt.

Jeff

Ann with her nice Spring gobbler

Spring turkey season here in the lowcountry of South Carolina has just a week to go, so hopefully many of you have been able to hit the woods and harvest a bird already. And if not, the weather is looking perfect for these last few days, so don’t give up yet!

One of the successful hunters that didn’t give up was our friend Ann over at the Lightsey Hunting Club for Ladies who killed a young bird after hunting “8 solid days, 7-8 hours at a time and it was the first gobbler we saw.”

Well, that is REAL turkey hunting, and that is how it goes sometimes… And I know that the shows on TV make it look easy, but as any true turkey hunter can tell you, it is rarely as simple as they make it seem. So congratulations to Ann for sticking with it and not giving up!

And I know that I haven’t had much time for this site lately, and for that I apologize. However I have managed to survive a horrible cold and stomach virus, working around the clock for turkey season as well as having to be out of town for some family business lately, so I believe that I may actually get back to writing again now. And to start, I have lots of items of interest that I will be sharing in short posts until I can get fully back up and running, so please stay with me.

Thanks, Jeff

However things should slow down a bit now, so I am looking forward to getting back to my regularly scheduled posting by catching everyone up on some great hunting stories over the next week. But while I have been super busy pursuing those redheaded, feathery suckers, I was able to sneak out of the woods for one day and hit three great hunting events last Saturday. First  was a meeting to create a new board for the South Carolina Quality Deer Management Association state chapter followed immediately by a visit to the Palmetto Sportsmen’s Classic the same day in Columbia where I was able to see thousands of fellow hunters and join them in checking out the latest and greatest new hunting products and services (I will be talking about both of these events here over the next few days as well as showcasing some of the local vendors).

The third event that I was fortunate enough to attend that night was our local Pocotaligo chapter of the National Wild Turkey Federation’s annual banquet at the County Line restaurant. It was a great night of eating, drinking and socializing with local hunters while raising money for a special cause. And while there, I was fortunate enough to win the JAKES gun of the year for Bo and Will. It is a H&R 20 gauge 3 inch mag from New England Arms, and it is a sweet gun. As a matter of fact, the boys now have a better turkey-killing tool than I do! And just check out their faces… do you think that they were excited about their new gun?

I promise to be back tomorrow with a giant post all about some of the great hunts that I have been on lately. See you then.

Jeff

PS. Of course you can check out The Cypress Creek Skinning Shed at www.cypresscreekhunting.com/blog if you must take a sneak peak.

SPRING TURKEY SEASON FORECAST IS FAIR IN 2009

An estimated 50,000 hunters will take to the woods during the upcoming turkey season, generating an estimated $30 million in direct expenditures for South Carolina’s economy.

The 2009 wild turkey season runs April 1 through May 1 for all Wildlife Management Areas where turkey hunting is allowed and on private lands in 34 counties that make up Game Zones 1-5. The season opens March 15 and runs through May 1 on private lands only in Game Zone 6: Allendale, Bamberg, Barnwell, Beaufort, Berkeley, Calhoun, Charleston, Colleton, Dorchester, Hampton, Jasper and Orangeburg counties.

For more information on wild turkeys including how to order turkey tags online, the 2009 Turkey Brochure, the 2008 Summer Turkey Brood Survey or the results from the 2008 spring gobbler season, see the following link on the DNR Web site: www.dnr.sc.gov/wildlife/turkey/index.html. Also get more information on turkey age and sex determination at: www.dnr.sc.gov/wildlife/turkey/turkeyage.html.

Hunters in Game Zone 6 should note that the season will open on Sunday, March 15 not Saturday, March 14. The old law that provided for hunting on Saturday when the season opening date fell on Sunday was repealed last year by the General Assembly at the request of DNR. The opening date falling on Sunday, a situation that arose only every seven years, created confusion among hunters and presented problems with dates on printed materials that DNR publishes. This law was a carry-over from a time during which many people did not hunt on Sunday and when Sunday hunting of big game was actually prohibited in certain parts of the state. In the future, the season for all species of game will open on the date specified by law regardless of whether a Sunday is involved.

Saturday, March 28 is Youth Turkey Hunt Day in areas where the season opens on April 1. On this day, youths 17 and under who are accompanied by a properly licensed adult (age 21 and older) may hunt turkeys. Only the youth can take or attempt to take turkeys. Tagging requirements remain in place for this special youth day.

The following is a press release explaining the program:

The USDA Farm Service Agency is now offering the State Acres for Wildlife Enhancement (SAFE) Initiative under the Conservation Reserve Program to enhance high priority wildlife habitat in Allendale, Bamberg and Barnwell Counties. The SAFE Habitat Initiative will provide technical and financial assistance to install and maintain up to 2,300 acres of wildlife habitat. Habitat establishment will require planting a mix of three types of native warm season grasses along with two types of forbs while managing for natural vegetation diversity.

To enroll in the program, land must be located in Allendale, Bamberg or Barnwell counties, contain a minimum of five acres and have a history of crop planting. The program potentially pays rental rates, sign-up bonuses incentive payments and cost share. Contracts run between 10 and 15 years, and require active management including light discing, herbicide application and prescribed fire, all of which are eligible for cost share.

For more information on the SAFE program see the attached pdf or contact the Farm Service Agency or Natural Resources Conservation Service offices in the participating counties:

Michael runs Greenefield Hunting Club as well as works for Morrison Forestry, and he sent these pictures of his trip out West. I hope to get the full story out of him soon in addition to some of his other grand slam kill pictures.

It looks like he and his buddy had a great trip, enjoyed some amazing scenery and killed a couple of fine birds. It also looks like they had some inclement weather to deal with!

As for the picture of the scantily clad girl with the huge rack, I thought that I would include that this morning for all of the googlers that are looking for “bowhunting bikini girls”. I made the mistake of using that term in a my post last week about the crazy searches that will land you at the Hunter’s Wife, and now it seems that Google has decided that I should get some of that traffic too!

And even funnier, and more disturbing, is the fact that I am now getting search engine traffic from swingers. Again, the post I wrote about also talked about how if you Google the swinger’s club down in Florida, called the Hunt Club of Brevard, you will be directed to this site. I assume that is because I am from there, and I have written about Florida hunting clubs.

Now, since Google has picked up on the fact that I mentioned “swingers” in one of my post, it has decided that I may be an authority on swinging in South Carolina as well. Therefore, if you search for “lowcountry swingers clubs”, you will be taken to this site. All I can say is, watch what you write about. And be even more careful about what you search for, especially if you are looking for a new Florida hunting club this season… Because if the swingers are ending up here, hunters are probably ending up there.

Hope everyone has a great Monday!

Jeff

To say that it has been a tough season would be an understatement: quite a bit of rotten weather to make the hunting tough, lots of wedding work to keep me out of the woods and of course the Gobblinator. I guess that I could whine about it, but instead I think I will take comfort in the fact that I have been in this situation before and managed to shoot one with time running out.

I killed the thunderbird four years ago, and it was truly one of my greatest hunts ever. I can only say that every once in a great while, the stars align and everything in the hunt somehow goes perfectly. It so rarely happens that you can’t ever count on it, you just have to spend enough time in the woods for something like this to happen occasionally.

My wife stopped our Toyota corolla at the head of the dirt road leading to our 180 acre lease. Ahead lay two miles of muddy, torn up trail full of giant potholes that sometimes came close to claiming my Jeep Cherokee 4×4.
It was already 4:30pm, and the last day of turkey season was quickly coming to an end… without me having killed a turkey. I needed to get to my hunting area quickly, but the four wheel drive was out in the truck, so even attempting the drive in was out of the question. The only option left was to have my understanding wife drive me the mile and a half from our home to the road’s entrance and put me out with my Cannondale mountain bike. From there I would ride when I could, hike around the muddy craters when I couldn’t.

I unloaded my ultralight racing bike that I had converted into a hunting machine by adding an atv gun rack, and quickly assembled my gear. The sweat poured off of me in the South Carolina lowcountry’s May heat, but I was determined not to let my tag go to waste – No matter what it took!
I had already blown a chance with two big gobblers right at daylight near the back of the property by taking one too many steps towards them before deciding to set up. After that it was pretty quiet (if you discount the swarms of mosquitoes circling your head with their incessant buzzing) until 10am when I rode out, again on my bike, to shower and attend a small family reunion for a few hours.

Now I was back. I peddled to the far front corner and called loudly a couple of times. I figured that I needed a hot bird looking for some late season love to pull off this miracle, so why not give it all I had.
Nothing.
I didn’t even hesitate, I had already made up my mind that if one didn’t respond immediately, I was headed to the very back of the property. To the exact spot that I had squandered a sure thing this morning.
The mud was flying off of my knobby tires all over my back as I tore down the old logging road the split the property; I had to hurry since, not only was time running out, but the sky turning black with impending rain and the lightning was getting closer along with its booming thunder.
At the far end, about two hundred yards from the line, I ditched my bright yellow two-wheeler and grabbed my gun. While walking towards the corner, I pulled out my MAD high-frequency diaphragm, said a small turkey hunters prayer (you know the one, where you promise anything, just to hear that gobble), threw it into my mouth and prepared to call once I got into position.
My plan was to stalk up near the line so that I could glass the neighbors fallow fields for a strutting bird before calling. I always like to be able to see a bird I am calling to if at all possible; that way you can watch his reaction and adjust your tone or cadence accordingly as well as move to intercept them if they don’t come right in. I also hoped to possibly hear one sound off to the now startlingly loud claps of thunder.
I eased up to about 50 yards from the line, glassed the grown over field ahead of me and strained my ears after each burst.

There it was! A gobble… about 350 yards away, just off to my right but far enough down the road and out into the tall weeds so that I couldn’t see him.
My heart almost leaped out of my chest. It was all coming together perfectly. I had located a bird without even calling and that eliminated the possibly of getting busted while trying to set up closer. I was mapping out the rest of my plan when another, closer burst of thunder made him gobble again. Then again! I knew he must be fired up already, so I gave him what he wanted. I sent a string of moderately loud yelps his way followed by a quick cut.
Grrrobbb-grrrooobbble he fired back. I called again, this time with even more passion. Another double gobble. If this bird was any hotter, he would burn up I told myself as I dashed forward towards the other line that lay about 100 yards ahead. A little over half way there I called again. Grrroooble. This time he was definitely moving closer.
I unhooked my Bucklick creek vest and plopped down against a small pine 35 yards from the line, where I could see out into this grown up field and hopefully watch my bird’s progress. And what I really needed him to do was take a few extra steps beyond the field on to our side, and into the range of my old Winchester 1400 12 gauge.
And it sounded like he just might do that since he was really coming now. I knew because he was gobbling almost incessantly at the cracking thunder, giving his exact path away and keeping me from getting impatient and over-calling.
I just sat there in total amazement, drunk off of the sounds of this gobbling gift, waiting to unwrap him with some #4 heavy shot while he closed the distance. Finally I could see his tail feathers over the weeds. He was strutting down the road about 125 yards out. He was coming, but not as fast as the rain drops were starting to fall.
I couldn’t take it anymore. I had to do something if he was going to make it to me before the bottom fell out and ruined my hunt. I called one last time, pleading with him and surely making all kinds of dirty promises in turkey lingo.
He hammered back, but continued his crawl my way. I just knew the rain wasn’t going to hold off long enough. But then, there he was, 40 yards out into the field, but still technically 75 yards from the barrel. I tightened my grip, eased the safety off and waited while he just basically stood there, strutting back and forth.
There was nothing I could do. So I waited, and waited. Finally, after what seemed like an hour but in reality was probably only another 10 minutes, he started to slowly strut my way. A step here, another step there. I was getting nauseous just watching him.
He eased up to the edge of the field and peered deep into the woods for his lover. I was afraid to even blink. My red-headed savior was now just feet from the line and a mere 8 yards out of range.
Gooobbblle, he hollered into my face, still burning holes into the brush with those beady eyes. I held fast, knowing one small mistake would cost me everything.
He dropped out of strut, took a few more steps while cautiously scanning his surroundings, then caught a face full of tungstonalloy, knocking him right down.
I was up instantly, gliding over the humps in the planted pine rows towards my trophy. I was in total disbelief as I snatched him up and tried to admire his 11 inch beard and 1 inch spurs. But I couldn’t. The heat and excitement had gotten to me, and I crumpled to the ground on the verge of a heat stoke. I just sat there in a total daze while memories of so many hunts on the tract flashed through my mind. One of the most important ones was just to listen to the turkeys with my dad.

Just then the rain started coming down heavy and that helped me cool off enough that I regained my thoughts, packed up my bird and started peddling back to the highway. Once there I rode right down 321 with my bird bird sticking out of my vest and my gun on my handlebars. I just couldn’t wait to show my wife. She was as happy as I was and couldn’t believe that I had managed to kill a turkey on the last afternoon of the season. She grabbed the camera and we took some pictures before the sun disappeared. One of the shots was of me walking my bike down the old oak avenue by our hose. It is one of my alltime favorites and it now hangs in our den. On the opposite end of the house hangs the Thunderbird.

What an incredible hunt. Let’s see if I can do it again!

Jeff

It was last Thursday, and I had decided to sleep in after working late on some pictures and then hit the woods midday. I had run into a couple of big gobblers right near the gate, but usually later in the day, so that was my plan. I got to my spot at noon and quietly set up on the edge of a burn right by the property line. This was also the same spot that I passed on a jake a week earlier while trying to get a loudmouth older one to come in, so I knew if I just sat tight, a bird would show up eventually.

I did a series of soft yelps every twenty minutes or so, and waited. And waited. I had been there about 2 hours and was just about to run through another set of calls when I noticed a red head bobbing along about 70 yards out in the burn to my left. I eased my Winchester 1400 up and tried to figure out what my bird was going to do. I could see that he was looking for me, however he was going to pass on by since he couldn’t see my decoys in the fire break due to a row of brush. I quickly picked out two openings through the row of brush as well as through the planted pines out in the burn and got ready. He was at 30 yards when I let off a load of #6 heavyshot as he hit the second opening.

He immediately went down, but I knew better than to count on it. And sure enough, we both got up to run about the same time. I could see that he was going to try and sprint by me, so I took a few steps, jerked the gun up just as he took off and tried to get my barrel out in front of him. However I only managed to find his back as I pulled the trigger on my 35 year old gun. The shot knocked him out of the sky, but he was up and running again as soon as he hit the ground. He was now heading towards the corner of the burn right where it gets thick, so I started running parallel to him in an effort to head him off. When I was about 30 yards from the corner I slammed on the breaks, shouldered my gun and got ready for my last chance to remove the gobblinator from the flock.

As soon as he hit the road, he turned and tried to take off again, however my third and last shot knocked him back out of the air. The big gobbler rolled and flopped around for 2 seconds, just long enough for me to make it within 5 yards, when the old bird regained his composure and started up the road at a good but wobbly trot. I threw my empty gun down in one last ditch effort to catch him, turned on the afterburners (at least that is what I needed in my Rocky snake boots), and stayed close for about 100 yards. But then I started to lose ground as he continued to pick up speed. However since I just knew he was going to run out of gas at any moment and drop dead, I kept running so that I didn’t lose sight of him before he did.

However he never ran out of gas. I did! I finally pulled up at about the 200 yards mark and just stood in complete disbelief as the toughest longbeard I had ever seen did his best Carl Lewis impersenation. He never left the logging road, and I could still see him hauling ass at about the 400 yard mark when he finally rounded a curve to disappear!

Still in complete disbelief about what just happened, I backtracked to my gun, then retrieved my vest that had two more shells in it and followed up my turkey’s trail. I looked and looked, but to no avail… My season-saving limbhanger, the Gobblinator, was gone.

I hate to even tell this story since, while entertaining, is so at my and the turkey’s expense. I hate looking like a kook, and I hate even more that I lost an injured bird. However both things occasionally happen in life. Fortunately, looking like a kook happens much more than losing a turkey. As a matter of fact, until this one, I had never lost one that I hit. Sure, I have missed one or two, but I had never knocked one down and not been able to get another shot or my hands on him before he escaped. In retrospect, I should have clucked hard one time as he hit the opening to make him pick his head up more. Then I would have had more pellets hit him in the kill zone. Instead, with him walking with his head kind of tucked in, he took a lot of it in the upper shoulder/wing. I also may have to break down and buy one of those 3.5 inch mags along with a scope since I believe more power and a better aiming device could have helped even with his head tucked in. And a gun that holds FIVE shells would have allowed me to hit him one more time as he flopped around that last time. As usual, there are always lessons to be learned in the outdoors.

So, where does that leave me? At the second to last day of the season without a turkey! I am finishing this post and then I hitting the woods for the day to try and remedy that. I was hoping to give it hell yesterday, but bad weather and work projects put an end to that. I also had to stay close to my rat terrier who became deathly ill on Saturday and required an emergency room visit on Sunday as well as an overnight stay for observation. It turned out to be a intestinal virus that mimicked parvo symptoms. But $200 later he is doing much better.

However while my dog had made it, my toyota’s AC didn’t. I was on the way to pick him up from the vet Monday afternoon when smoke started pouring from under the hood – it had seized up. The mechanic down the street from the vet said that it would be $800! And since I had to replace it a few years ago and it was exactly $800, I definitely believe him.

So my bad luck just keeps on coming. First I was having a tough time finding time to hunt with our busy spring workload, then I hit the neighbor’s cat, followed by the deer. Next my wife and kids left me home alone for a month to care for the dog, who immediately got deathly ill and cost me $200 dollars. Now the AC goes out too! I just can’t seem to catch a break.

But what can I do? Sit here and ramble on, or suck it up and hit the woods in an effort to salvage my season and my credibility. Luckily I know from past experiences that I can sometimes do amazing things when I have to, like kill a turkey on the last day of the season. And since I started turkey hunting 10 years ago, I have only gotten to the end of a season twice without my bird.

One of those two times I managed to come through at the very last moment. That is my next post!

Jeff

I wanted to congratulate my friend David on the killing of his great gobbler this past Friday morning. It was only his third bird ever and to say that he was thrilled would probably be an understatement. And what made the giant limbhanger even more memorable is the fact that we heard him most mornings and David had even come close to killing him once before… however I will let his words tell the short story.

got a limb hanger today in South Carolina..0650am, had two others gobbling with him..Thank You Lord..
This is my 3rd bird and first in SC..
11.5 beard
1 3/8 spurs. this is my biggest bird
whew I have been chasing this one for three weeks, had a disinct triple gooble. Had him at 70 yds last weekend and a hen flew down and stole him away..

I borrowed the picture and his blurb from his post on the GON forum that the Georgia Outdoor Network magazine hosts. David is in one of their gobbler hunting team contests, and that was his entry.

I love the GON magazine, and can’t believe SC doesn’t have one like it (YET!), and the forum is one of the best local ones that I have seen. If you hunt anywhere in the South, you should really check it out. You can find lots of hunting talk, available leases, club openings, custom turkey calls, etc. Again, a great place for southern hunters to gather.

Please note that I also had a run in with a big bird, however mine didn’t turn out so well. You will have to let me finish the big project that I have to deliver today, then I will tell the WHOLE story… See you soon.

Jeff