Top_Heavy's World

The small birds started their morning salute to the sunrise and an owl hooted it's "Good Night", having hunted all night. The rustling of leaves was sure sign of a mouse or a shrew working down the log we sat against. We could just make out the shadows, that were a doe and her twin fawns, that fed in a clear patch down the valley. The morning was perfect. The big tom was still on his roost, illuminated by the moon, we could see exactly where he was, when we roosted him the night before. He had gobbled over and over last night. We knew he was alone and our confidence was enough to get us out of bed an hour earlier than normal. We quietly crossed the valley, a chore as it was full of tree top piles from the recent logging work. Slipping up the hill to the ridge he was on, we were convinced we would have a short hunt for this monster tom. We set up at the edge of the ridge, just far enough that we could be hidden, but close enough to see him with little movement.
I was with a special man this morning, one of my favorite people in the entire world. He isn't my brother by birth, but he is one in my heart. Jody and I met in college. He was the quiet, very smart, athletic guy with the hair down to the middle of his back. His physical stature is not intimidating, but his quality sure is. We both were young guys involved in sole proprietor businesses. I was more into construction and he was more into lawn and golf course work. A scratch golfer, he has a complete game, and that passion led him to this line of study. Jody is also into volleyball, actually one of the best in our area, voted to the all tournament team at nationals. If he was over 6' tall, he could have tried the pro circuit and done very well. His 6 pack abs and his 40" plus verticle... Thank God he was short, my wife was infatuated with him, but wouldn't date guys shorter than her! She might have been Mrs. Chalupa and I would be...
The tom woke with a resounding gobble. He stood and shook, strethed his wings and gobbled again. We waited as he got excited, egged on by the band of shallow gobbles from down the valley. It sounded like a batch of jakes had roosted near where the deer had been earlier. The tom showed the usual signs of fly down time; fast movements, leaning and almost falling off the limb, constant looking to the ground for a landing patch, he stopped gobbling, so I knew it was time. I motioned to Jody, he raised his gun towards the largest clear spot in front of us and I did a super light fly down. I only used the wing, no calls. He heard it and flew right at us. He landed as we expected, less than 30 yards away! It was perfect, except the hill was higher than we thought. We couldn't see him on the other side of the rise. He hammered a double gobble and held his ground. I whispered a series of calls and he cut me short. He was holding his ground! I told him I was sexy, he held his ground. I told him I was hot, he held his ground. I let out a "please stick your head up for me to see" call and he actually moved a little bit away. We crawled to the top of the ridge and the tom was about 50 yards and strutting slowly away from us. Neither of us wanted to let this bird get away, but we were stuck with no cover to move in. We watched as the big tom met up with a few hens and went up the next hill. I had misjudged the landing zone by about 12 feet and we were out of position. I was sick, and I felt as though I had let Jody down. "Lets go down and see what the Jakes are doing" I suggested. Jody smiled his pleasure with our close call and shook his head in agreement. I led the way to the valley below.
The clearing was beautiful, 50 yards by 30 yards of perfectly manicured grass in the middle of a recently logged timber. A small tractor road led south of us and was the only way to this honey hole. We decided a pile of tree tops was the only cover we could sit in to hunt the area properly. I called softly, a short series to identify anything close. Gobl, Gobl Gobl... the short gobbles of the jakes shot back at us. I quickly staked out the single hen decoy and motioned to Jody to sit at the end of the brush closest to the oncoming turkeys. I moved to the far end to try and pull them past his waiting shotgun. I called a little more aggressively now that we were in position. The jakes were almost in view and their running feet were easily heard in the leaves. I was about to call again when motion behind me caught my eye. I slowly turned and saw a pair of mature toms walking down the length of the pile we were in. I slowly laid over into the larger branches. At 3 yards, the toms were now too close to try and alert Jody, I had to hope he saw them before he shot a jake. Having passed me, laying on my side, the toms were almost even with Jody. I called, a quick set, and the birds Gobbbbllleeeddd. The chorus was so loud that he flinched and I almost laughed. Composure is Jody's stregth, he held himself together and watched as the mob came together. We had 4 jakes and 2 toms in a clearing together. The farthest bird was 20 yards and they were challenging each other for the hen. The noise was fantastic, purrs, putts, clucks, wing slaps and a quick launch onto the closest jake. The dominant bird spurred the smaller bird and they stood upright with their chests touching. The young bird held his ground for a second or two. The mature bird towered over him by several inches and he retreated to the group of his supporters. The toms immediatley did their pose down, one bird at low full strut with tail slightly tilted to one side. The less dominant bird did the tall bird, slightly puffed, "I am cool too" thing, but not enough to challenge the strutter. At 8 yards the birds were quite a sight. The sound of Jodys safety clicking was my warning of the ensuing action. His gun roared and the birds scattered. With a few wing flaps tommy passed to the next hunting adventure. Jody had taken another monster tom. Long beard and thick spurs were further proof to this birds age. I was blessed to have been able to sit back and watch it all unfold. A hunt for the ages, a hunt with Jody Chalupa.