Bryan White

This was an exceptional morning. The past couple of hunts at this particular location helped me in developing a good plan. I arrived by myself at 9am. The weather was perfect. Damp and still. A little overcast with sun breaking through every few minutes. The ground was cool and wet from last night's light rain. In a bottom meadow I set up in a tree line with some broken timber facing south by southwest toward a high ridge where I had heard multiple gobbling the last time I was there. The timing was perfect. Exactly 1 hour to the minute the gobblers began to make their move down the steep hill. I heard a couple of hens in front of them and soon after the long beards began to honor them. I tucked myself behind my tail fan from one of last season’s kills. I don’t hunt with decoys often as I like being on the move and the fan allows me to be mobile and gives me the confidence to be successful. The two hens I thought were already on the ground gracefully glided out of the ridge top trees and came in 40 yards in front of me for a landing that resembled an old Cessna prop plane touch down. They walked around in circles fast fluttering their wings and quickly settled into a very relaxed disposition pecking the ground, lightly purring, and occasionally looking up. The gobblers continued sounding off and taking their time as gobblers do. One of the hens moved off and disappeared into the far right woods while the other moved toward the left corner's steady gobbling. At which point I decide to quickly close the distance and crawl to the crest of the knob that visually divided me from them. Every hunter will tell you there's a great deal of confidence that comes with being able to see your prey. Once there I began to peer through a place in my fan where I had purposely broken a feather off. The hen was nowhere to be seen but the gobbling persisted and the volume increased indicating they were very close by and closing in. Gobbling at such close range is unlike anything I can explain. Thunderous and demanding reverence. I always consider it such a privilege to witness this beautiful mating exchange while being undetected. Well, being undetected is certainly the objective but not always the outcome. 3 red heads emerged like mob bosses in the tall waving green grass and advanced aggressively up the knob toward my fan as I lay flat on the ground and heart beating in my throat. At 15 yards I took the tom that broke formation. The harvest is always an emotional and spiritual experience for me. I always thank God for every hunt and every harvest. I’m also grateful to the old and glorious bird that gave me the hunt of a lifetime. I won’t soon forget this memory - Marshall County