Top_Heavy's World

The morning was spectacular, crisp, clear, and quiet. We parked the truck and entered the pasture from the South. I usually take a small boat across or down the river here, as I have 3 large farms in a row, and on both sides. I use the boat as access to where ever a tom is gobbling. Mobility is my usual method, I was hoping this wasn't a mistake. We slipped along the open part of the pasture, this is where the cows have knocked down the tall grass and the multiflora rose bushes have been cut out. We waited on the ridge as the world came alive. I love the small song birds that flitter amongst the branches so noisily in the morning. They are ready to find breakfast, but the darkness keeps them on the roost. They chirp and call and are usually the first sounds of the day. This stretch of the river has a large populatiion of owls living along it. Today was a treat as several pairs got in a vocalization contest and we were right in the middle of it all. I started with the usual "Who Cooks For You" cadence, with no response I went louder with the "Who cooks for you, who cooks for you alllllll" and I really rolled the end. That did it! The first pair of owls answered and gave me an aggressive reply and then the next and the next. Soon the owls sounded more like a troop of monkeys with their screams, "HO HO HO HO WHOOOOW" replys and bickering. When they finally let up, I could hear at least 3 different gobblers on the pennisula we were at the base of. I was really excited about the day now!
Rick Soyglean was a friend from TJ Construction on the edge of Cedar Rapids. He has lots of gound to hunt in Northern Iowa, but his work schedule left him with only a single morning to hunt. Tommy asked me if I would take Rick, and IT WAS ON! Rick pours cement, one of the toughest jobs there is. He is a huge man, broad... really broad shoulders and as deep through the chest as most normal men are wide! At almost 6' tall, he is a mountain of a man. The only thing bigger than his physical size, is the size of his heart. He is one of the nicest "gentle giants" a man could ever know. I actually ate the first batch of canned venison at Rick's house... I can't make enough of it now! We were only able to hunt for one morning, so he took his shotgun, figuring the bow might be too much pressure on me.
We slipped down the cattle trail towards the most vocal of the toms. He gobbled in groups, 2 or 3 at a time and then he was quiet. I took this to mean he had hens, but was still active. The other toms would only shock gobble and even that was weak. We got to my magic 100 yard distance and we picked our trees. The cows didn't frequent this area nearly as much and the rose bushes were thick. I know of a lane that comes from the tall oak patch to this little clearing and I hoped he would come right in. We set up and started calling. He hit the ground and was done. Not another gobble for almost an hour. Patience was running very thin when he fired off about 200 yards to the south of his roost. He was on the other side of the pond from us and along the open pasture we crossed to get here... so much for always getting it right. We moved along the lane and under his roost, his lonely gobbles marked when his hens left him for their nests. We were closing in on his constant calls when the world went silent again... another hen beat us to him. I shocked him with a crow call and he gobbled one time. I cut like crazy and he gobbled... one time. We slowly worked to the pond dike and we used it as cover as we skirted the field the tom was showing off in. I set up against a huge tree trunk, as tall laying down as I was sitting up! I sat in a couple of branches with the main trunk at my back. Rick moved about 40 yards ahead of me to the base of a mature oak tree. He was about 15 yards to the East of the pond, facing away from me. I could only see the end of his gun from my position.
This time of the morning is usually best spent stationary. The sun was high and the heat would soon drive the birds into open timber and shade. We were near the best water and there were several dusting bowls along the pond. These dusting areas are often overlooked by most hunters, but to me they show where birds spend long hours grooming and loafing. I decided to occasionally call with my copper pot call. This friction call is really sharp and loud, perfect as I wanted to be heard through all of the vegetation. We had been sitting almost an hour and hadn't even heard a peep from the turkeys. I was wondering if we messed up by not sneaking up on the tom and ground swatting him. This isn't a very gentlemanly way of hunting, but it gets a bird for the pot... our main objective. I was in the middle of a series of calls when I caught motion out of the corner of my eye. A huge tom was standing on the other side of the log I was against looking for the hen! I couldn't move. I held my breath and waited. Rick couldn't see me and I am not sure if he was even awake. The tom slowly moved towards the decoy, which was set between us in the clearing. I had positioned it thinking the turkeys would come from infront of Rick and look past him for the calling. This old bird had slipped in though the back door. I stayed silent as the tom moved towards the pond. He was a little suspicious of the decoy and that was funneling the bird between the pond and Rick. The bird went over the bank of the pond, still behind Rick, and started walking along the sand, exposed by the lack of rain. The bird was now less than 15 yards from Rick and he couldn't see it. Either the bird was below the bank enough to hide it or he was sound asleep. Fearing the worst I trusted Ricks hunting experience. I knew he would trust me and be able to make the tough shot. I yelled "ON YOUR LEFT! BIG TOM ON YOUR LEFT!" The bird was startled and stood up staight as it picked up the pace. Rick's shotgun lept to his shoulder and he connected on a straght away 20 yard shot before the bird started really running! The morning had turned out perfect! We laughed and repeated my yelling over and over. We laughed until we cried! Trusting in me, he shot that bird. He didn't know what sex it was, he had only seen it for about 2 seconds, but we counted on one another and it all worked out!

This is Rick's turkey, harvested after I yelled to him to be sure he even saw the bird!