I arrived at the lodge of Trophy Plus Outfitters in Alzada, Montana at about 12:00 Mountain Time on Monday evening April 26. Bob Karel and I had left Jacksonville on a flight that took us to Minneapolis and Rapid City, SD. We drove the final 100 miles to the lodge. We did not get much sleep anticipating the following morning’s hunt. This was my second attempt to complete my Grand Slam and the Merriam was the only species I had not been successful hunting. We were up at 4:00 am and were out the door of the lodge by 4:45. The temperature at the lodge was twenty four degrees. I was hunting with a young rancher Zack Jay on his ranch in Wyoming. We arrived at the ranch at 5:15 and the turkeys were already fired up gobbling from the roost. I quietly closed my door of the truck but the click of metal on metal brought a shock gobble. The birds were roosted on a ridge in some large ponderosa pines two hundred fifty yards away. Zack wanted to set up on the edge of a pasture in front of the remains of his great grandfather’s home built prior to 1910. There was a large hardwood tree behind a wire fence were we decided to sit. To listen to the multiple gobbles was awesome. These birds answered every call that made on my Halloran slate and my Quaker Boy mouth diaphragm. Zack was calling as well. We did not use a decoy this morning. Zack told me that the birds would typically come into the pasture from as many as three openings in the timber. By 5:30 the birds were on the ground and still booming gobbles throughout the cold clear Wyoming morning air. We spotted the first group of hens, jakes and toms in one of the openings to our right. The turkeys kept coming and coming. There were over three dozen birds and eleven long beards in full strut gobbling to our calls. There was a power pole in front of us that Zack ranged at twenty six yards. The birds continued to come in our direction but were moving more to my right making me adjust my position with the shotgun that had been up for what seemed an eternity. We had no cover in front of us, just the tree and house behind us and I was really concerned about getting busted by the approaching turkeys. The birds never broke strut and I picked the one out on the left. I settled my Tru-Glo scope reticle green circle on the bird’s neck and pulled the trigger on my Benneli 12 gauge. The blast of Remington #6 hevishot dropped the bird in his tracks at 5:45 am. Two gobblers immediately jumped on the down bird. I looked at Zack because I still had another tag to fill and he suggested we try an afternoon attempt at filling my tag. We watched the birds for another few minutes, taking pictures, and celebrating the kill. A lone long beard approached my dead bird and mounted him in a carnal way. Zack and I were laughing at the gay gobbler. It was still below freezing when we got up and retrieved our bird. Zack was amazed at the spurs. Typically Merriam turkeys have three quarters of an inch or less. The spurs were inch and a quarter and inch and an eighth. We took some pictures, met Zack’s wife Bonnie and headed back to the lodge. I lay down to take a nap. At around 10:00 Bob returned after a successful hunt and was thrilled for my completion of the Slam. He was even more thrilled at the length of the spurs on the bird. He convinced me that it was the best Merriam he had ever seen and I should consider mounting him.

We ate lunch and took a needed nap and were back on the road to Zack’s at 1:30. Zack wanted to check on a calf that was born that morning. We were joined by Bonnie as we entered the calving pen. There were still eight pregnant cows that had yet to drop their calves and they are kept separate from the rest of the herd. The young bull was on the ground in the sun while his mom stood by closely. Zack did a visual inspection and determined the calf was fine. He got to his feet in a very wobbly fashion and proceeded to nurse from his mother’s milk.

Our afternoon strategy was to walk the ridges and call. The temperature had risen into the sixties and was perfect for an afternoon spot and stalk. It was 2:30 as we drove away from the calving pen.  Zack immediately spotted a turkey strutting in a clearing along a ridge. We stopped the truck and glassed the big boy strutting in the sun. We grabbed our gear and headed up the ridge behind a tree line for cover. We got about halfway up the ridge when we realized the bird had friends and they were moving in our direction. There was a loud vocal hen yelping and two gobblers in full strut following. Zack crawled to the edge of the tree line and placed a Flambeau hen decoy a couple of feet out in the opening and crawled back to me. I was lying on my side, inclined against the slope of the hill with the tangle of limbs giving me pretty good cover. Zack and I began a series of yelps and clucks that seemed to aggravate the hen and bring her closer. I was using my mouth call and the latex separated from the perimeter and was useless. I could not dig through my vest to get another for fear of getting busted by the approaching trio. I looked up when I heard the sound of a bird drumming. There was a bird standing at the top of the ridge in full strut less than one hundred yards away. I whispered to Zack to look up. There were now two other birds approaching from the other side of the ridge gobbling. There were now at least five gobblers coming in our direction. The bird at the top of the ridge started coming after he spotted the decoy. The first two gobblers entered the clearing to my right, the two from over the ridge to my right were getting closer and the one from the top of the ridge was at fifty five yards on Zack’s range finder. The bird coming down the hill in full strut changed direction to face the two gobblers and I was afraid I would not be able to move to get in position for a shot. He then turned back towards me never breaking strut and I shot him at thirty six yards at 3:10 pm. My second bird of the day and my second Merriam! Zack and I were laughing and celebrating as the rest of the birds disbursed back over the ridge. We went to look at our bird and boy what a trophy. This bird had two spurs at an inch and a eighth. Two trophy Merriam turkeys to complete my Grand Slam. This is fantastic time of year for those who like to “Live the Hunt Life”

The 2010 south zone of Florida’s spring turkey season opened on March 6th. This was my ninth year to hunt with Stacey Howell in the beautiful hammocks that surround thousands of acres of orange grove in Immokalee. I arrived early on Friday afternoon  after a four and a half hour drive from Jacksonville and met my friend Bob Karel and Stacey at the gate to Gopher Ridge groves. We set out to do some scouting. Stacey uses game cameras to do some of his scouting and he has the pictures to prove it. The amount of game that lives in the area is amazing. Florida panther, black bear, bobcat, deer, hogs and the Osceola turkey. We found an area that had a lot of turkey tracks on a road . Stacey was not sure where the birds were roosting but we felt confident that the turkeys walked the road heading to the orange groves. I hunt using a small portable low profile ground blind. I was in an area where I could see pretty well to an open field on my right and the road on my left. Bob wanted to hunt a dry pond that is surrounded by a large field. He hunted there last year and had success. We looked the area over for sign and felt that the turkeys were regular visitors due to the nineteen images on Stacey’s camera. Bob built a blind at the base of a large bush and we were ready for the next morning’s hunt.

Bob and I  checked into the Motel 82 and enjoyed our traditional happy hour traditions. We were without Robert Graham and my son Kyle this year and we remembered and toasted the many years of hunting turkeys that we have experienced. We ate dinner at the Seminole Indian Casino and returned to our rooms early, eager to hunt the birds that  keep our passion for the spring season.

We arrived at the orange grove gate before 5:30 am on Saturday morning. There was a layer of frost and the temperature was in the mid thirties. The moon was setting and still cast a shadow on the ground. I was the first to be dropped off in the area where I planned to hunt. I put my medium weight jacket, wool beanie, gloves and neck gaiter on and settled in the pre dawn chill to wait to hear the woods awake. I heard a couple of gobbles from the roost far away. There was a loud diesel pump used to irrigate the orange trees running that may have drown out others. I did not make a call until about 6:30 am when I made some soft yelps with my David Halloran black aluminum pot. I waited for about ten minutes and ran another series of louder yelps. With in a minute there were nine jakes running down the road looking for the source of the call. These jakes were all the same size and all had six inch beards. They milled around for more than few minutes at less than five feet from my blind and gave me a feeling that I was about to be busted by the eighteen eyes looking for the hen. They ultimately made there way towards the orange groves. I was not using a decoy. I just decided not to this morning.

I heard a couple of gobbles come from the direction of the orange groves to my left. I eased out of my blind and slipped down the road to see if I could see anything. There were three hens walking down the road away from me at about sixty yards. I stepped back into the tree line and froze. The hens did not know I was there and I spotted a strutting gobbler step out from a side road to the left and  follow the hens towards the orange grove. He was walking directly away from me never breaking strut. I shouldered my 12 gauge Benelli and started to close on him. I think one of the hens must have caught my movement and startled the strutting tom. He broke strut and offered his red head for a shot from behind at. I settled my True-Glo scope’s green illuminated reticle circle and pulled the trigger. A mature three year old gobbler was down and the hunt was complete. The bird had a 10.5” beard and  1” + spurs. I enjoyed spending the next hour enjoying the beauty of the morning and the orange groves while I waited for Stacey to pick me up. I saw over a dozen deer and watched a spotted fawn walk twenty yards from were I was sitting. Stacey had taken his 11 year old son Jayce to hunt and they told me their story of having four gobbling birds in range but not offering a clear shot through heavy brush for the young hunter. We  picked up Bob and his “limb hanger” turkey up and shared our stories and took photos to record our recent experiences of “livin the hunt life”

My Second Osceola

The clock said 3:00 am. I rolled over and tried to go back to sleep. The alarm was set for 4:30 and I could use some more shut eye.  It does not work that way in turkey season. Your mind is going in so many directions as you think about the hunt. So many scenarios from previous hunts that you play over and over will never let you fall back to sleep. The clock said 4:00 and I said to heck with this. I showered, put on my Mossy Oak camo and grabbed my gear for the one hour drive to where I was hunting today.  The temperature read fifty five degrees on the truck’s display and there was no wind or moon.

I was hunting a twenty acre clover field surrounded by planted pines. I made my way across the field with my decoys in the pitch black darkness. I found a good cover area in the timber facing north to set up that allowed good visibility of most of the entire field. I placed my B-Mobile strutting gobbler decoy with real beard and tail fan and two hens at about twenty yards out in the field. I had recent intel that the birds had gone to roost within a couple hundred yards of my set up and had been regular visitors to the field daily. As I stepped into the timber I heard the sound no turkey hunter wants to hear. A bird was roosted in the trees behind me and left the area with the familiar sound of wings on air.

It was still pretty early so I settled in and waited in anticipation for dawn. The bugs started to swarm so I broke out the Thermacell and took care of that. The woods started to wake up with the sounds of the song birds and whippoorwills around 7:00 am. I heard a gobble from a tree several hundred yards to my east. He gobbled twice. I did a series of tree yelps with my Halloran black aluminum pot and waited. About fifteen minutes later I did another series of calls to turkey’s who I assumed must be on the ground by now. Nothing responded. I called at fifteen minute intervals until a hen entered the field from the far north corner five or six hundred yards away. I glassed to see what may be in tow but she was a loner. I cranked up the volume of the call and she started heading my way. She covered the field and closed the distance in less than ten minutes. We carried on a conversation of purrs, clucks and light yelps until she grew uninterested and left the field to the south.

At 8:30 I was glassing the field and there was a gobbler standing in the east corner by a small pond. He was at full alert. He was at least one hundred and fifty yards away. I was praying he had not busted me when I was glassing. I sat perfectly still for what seemed like an eternity.  I finally looked for him but he was not in the corner anymore. I finally located him about twenty yards closer into the field from where he was and still on high alert. I used my Primos mouth call to lightly yelp while purring on the Halloran slate. I do not know if it was the calling or the intruder in the clover field that finally got to the ole tom. He did a three quarter strut and lowered his head and came on a dead run towards B-Mobile and the hen decoys. I was shaking with anticipation as he closed the distance. The Benelli  12 gauge with the Tru-Glo optics and Remington #6 Hevishot stopped the charging bird. He barely flopped as the load of hot shot put his lights out at less than thirty yards. It was 8:45 and I was tagged out in Florida with my second Osceola. The bird had a ten inch beard and one inch spurs and I guessed him to be a two year old. I am blessed to be able to share my passion for hunting these noble birds. I love this time of year! Livin’ the Hunt Life.

When you turkey hunt in Texas a number of years you begin to expect some things to happen. You expect to hear a bunch of gobblers tuning it up from the roost. You expect that the birds will fly down and walk right down the road  or sendaro where you chose to set up that particular morning. You expect to be able to have an encounter with a gobbler looking for love in the wrong place. You expect you will have some measure of success. This was my ninth year hunting the spring turkey opening weekend. I have enjoyed a wide variety of hunting experiences that are burned into my memory banks. The memory banks can fuel the expectations. I learned something new this year. You better learn to expect the unexpected.

My son Kyle, a senior at Florida State University, Bob Karel and Tommy Ellis  and I from Jacksonville, Fl.  were back in Christoval, Texas to open the 2010 spring turkey season with Koby Howell of 5 Star Outfitters. We call it the Team Hunt Life weekend. Koby is a an outstanding young outfitter  with several great ranches to pursue turkey. This was our third year hunting with 5 Star Outfitters and we were excited and the expectations were high. Bob and Tommy had arrived on Thursday and had spent Friday doing some scouting on the ranches. Kyle and my flight arrived early afternoon on Friday and we headed to the lodge after doing a little of our own scouting. The lodge is on the Harkey Ranch and is a 5 star destination overlooking a 1000 acre pasture of exotic game and Rio Grande turkey. We were greeted by guide, Greg Griffith and our old friend Gerald Farris who cooks  for us. We settled into the lodge to catch up on last years deer season and the scouting reports for turkey. We enjoyed a beef tenderloin grilled on a mesquite fire with all the fixins. The evening was a reunion and filled with good memories, stories and good  times. We retired later than usual, but full of expectations for the season to open in the morning.

We were on the way to the Bois D’Arc Ranch (pronounced Bo Dark) at 5:30 am. Bob and I were going to hunt there while Kyle and Tommy were going to hunt the Harkey Ranch. Bob was dropped off first and I was at the gate to my pasture at 6:15 am. It was 37* degrees and clear as I walked to a area that had a lot of turkey sign we scouted the previous afternoon. I climbed into an oak mott and  deployed my ground blind. I was very well hidden with a view of the road and the sendaro where I expected the turkeys would arrive. The first gobble from the roost started at 6:30 and the birds were in sounding off in every direction. This continued as the birds flew down. I had no less than twelve birds answer my calls. I engaged a couple of hens and was surely expecting them to drag the gobblers with them to investigate the source of the calls. One hen had three gobblers that would answer her yelping and my yelping by cutting us both off with gobbles. This went on until almost 10:00 am and I never saw a turkey. I would never have expected that. Bob did not see a turkey that morning and he did not even hear one.  Totally unexpected.

We returned to the ranch for  breakfast and to plan our afternoon hunt. Kyle shot a bird and Tommy could not get one into range, so at least we were not totally skunked. We were back on the hunt by 1:00 pm. I hunted a beautiful sendaro on the Harkey Ranch while Bob hunted the 95 Ranch. I found a good place in the shade of another oak mott to build a blind. I do not call much on an afternoon hunt., usually only every 15-20 minutes. I called in six hens in the six and a half hours I spent that afternoon hunting and not one male turkey. Totally unexpected. Bob killed four long beards that afternoon and has an unbelievable story of  his hunt. Tommy was able to coax one into range and six turkeys were in the cooler.

The next morning Greg and I were going to check out a water tank that he scouted yesterday at the 95 Ranch. We got an early start because he wanted to walk to the tank and not drive an possibly disturb a roost. We walked a mile to the tank and listened for the turkeys to greet Easter Dawn. We heard several birds fire up from the roost several hundred yards away. We found a place to hide near the tank and waited. Our strategy was not to call but wait to see what would come to the water tank. About 8:30 am a hen walked in front of us at  twenty yards. I was startled when a dozen hens suddenly appeared. I think they must of seen us move as they went on alert. Greg threw a couple of contented purrs and yelps and that seemed to relax the hens. We could hear the gobblers drumming in the road behind the hens but could not see them. Greg called again and both gobblers responded aggressively. The hens decided not to continue down the road to our setup but skirt the sendaro and circle us. As soon as the last bird was out of sight, I belly crawled to an opening in the sendaro to my right about twenty yards. I lay flat in a prone position as the first of the dozen or so hens walked by the opening at thirty yards. After what seemed like forever, the shape of a strutting long beard appeared in my Truglo scope at twenty yards or less. I settled the green circle at the red, white and blue and pulled the trigger. The Benelli 12 gauge and Remington #6 heavy shot rolled up not one but two long beards. Greg and I were jumping around like kids at a party. We took some pictures and started the long walk back to the truck.

As we walked back to the truck, I was amazed at the turkey sign on the road. Droppings and strut marks covered our footprints from our walk to the tank in the darkness. As we arrived at a gate to the pasture where we parked the truck we spotted two gobblers fighting in the open pasture about three hundreds yards away. We called and one of the birds peeled off and headed our way. I told Greg this bird was coming and we knelt down by a big cedar bush. In a matter of a couple of minutes the long beard was standing less than twenty yards in front of us looking for the hen he left the fight to find. I shot him and ended his quest for a love encounter. Incredible and totally unexpected. Three long beards within a half an hour. All the birds were three year olds. Two had 1.25” spurs and the other had 1.375”. All had 9”+ beards.  We also got to watch two gobblers fight each other through a fence. I wish I would have had my camera ready as it was an incredible sight.

Kyle and Tommy got their birds and we were done! Eleven turkeys were in the cooler and we had completed the most unexpected hunt of a lifetime. When you go on a Texas turkey hunt you never know what to expect!

South Prong Hunt Club, Inc.                                                  (904) 757-3323 phone

12300 Holstein Drive                                                              (904) 757-9776 fax

Jacksonville, FL 32226                                                           Email: mmdiary@aol.com

Weekend of Gobbler Hunting!

Weekend of hunting on South Prong Plantation, 2400 acres of intensely

managed private land located in Baker County, just 30 minutes from

downtown Jacksonville.

Cost - $650.00 each – Includes one Gobbler, 2 nights stay, lodging and

all meals.

• We require a minimum of three hunters and a maximum of five hunters

• Hunts are semi-guided.  A lack of gobbler hunting experience is not a problem.

• The season begins on March 20 through April 25.

• You can arrive at 2:00pm on Friday and hunt through 2:00pm Sunday.

Please call for available weekends or other questions you may have.

Contact:  Doug Moore 904-545-0602

      DAY 1- We got to Perry Georgia just waiting for some action in the stands so we got dressed in all of our warm clothes really fast so we could go hunting. Once we were done getting dressed we had to try out the Rifles Daddon got us. They were both 243's but I made a mistake choosing the longest gun. So when we got to the stand we waited for about an hour then we saw a Doe, but it was to young to shoot. About thirty minutes later an then I was dying to shoot a Hog then all of a sudden three hogs came out from in the woods. So Daddon said do you want to shoot a hog and I said yes. So I got in Daddon's lap while he held the gun in Daddon's shoulder and I got ready to shoot. While I was about to pull the trigger I jerked away from the gun and pulled the trigger and missed I was very upset. While I missed the hog there was another gun shot and It sounded like my dad. So we got out of the stand going towards my dads stand thinking that he shot something. When we got in my dads field we saw Winston and my dad looking in the woods. when we got out of the car my dad said he shot a Doe so we found a blood trail then we found the deer. So we had to drive it to the processor.

       DAY 2- I woke up that morning still thinking about that hog I missed but then I thought its a new day and maybe we will get another hog. The only thing different was that was going hunting with my dad. when we got to the stand it was really cold but I tried to hang in there. we hadent seen even a bird and Winston and I were getting cold so I got in my dads lap to warm up while Winston got out of the stand with Daddon to look around. while Winston and Daddon were looking they saw a hog running across the field and Daddon took a shot at the Hog and it dropped like a fly so we drove the car over there to pick up the hog. Later our friend Mason was hunting with his grandpa and his dad Mason shot a hog also but instead of us having to pick up the hog Mason's grandpa has a truck so he just put the hog in the truck and drove it to the house. while we were all at the house we  were skining the hogs to eat. later when it got warmer outside we went back to the fields axcept I was with Daddon. when we got to the stand we waited about 30 minutes and we heard two gunshots and then we heard my dad on the wlkie talkie say that we have a problem and we drove to there stand and I saw winston with a cut on his nose and my dad said that the scope kicked back and hit his nose so my dad took winston home while me and Daddon continued to hunt. So we waited in the stand for some action and then we saw two hogs walk out from the woods and I got prepared to shoot. I got in Daddons lap an got ready to shoot so I turned the safety off and pulled the trigger then I saw a hog fall to the ground an then I relized that I shot a hog I was so happy. We got out of the stands and walked over to the the hog and I shot it perfectly in the tummy and that was my first kill.
-- Will

Hey Don,

I just wanted to thank you again for the invite back to Flint River Farms for the “Grandpops’ / Grandkids’” hunt.

It was a very special treat to see Mason ease off of his stool and slip over onto my lap and take his 1^st deer – a

large doe pushing 150 lbs. judging from the drag. It was all I could do move her 60 yards to the edge of the field.

I whispered to him before the shot “Where are you aiming at?” He replied “ Between the heart and the neck, are

you ready?” I said “Yep”, and he made a beautiful neck shot. I’ve never seen a deer hit the ground that fast. It

couldn’t have come at a better time because he had taken his extra jacket out of his backpack and left it at the

house. I had given him my jacket, and it was starting to get cold with the dropping temperature and strong breeze

occasionally gusting.

The 1^st day we saw 30 deer, numerous pigs, and an armadillo all in the “L” field between 3:00 and 6:05 pm. Out of

the 30 deer, 6 were legal 8’s with 1 in particular having good mass and symmetry, but not significantly better than the

8 point from last year. The one 7 point was only missing a right brow tine from being club legal. It was exciting to see

that much action in a 3 hour time period.

Other than losing David’s radio, it was a great time and memorable moment to see my boy get his 1^st deer. I only wish

I had gotten more pictures, but next time I’ll come better prepared.

Thanks and hopefully we can do it again this year!

Sincerely,

Jim Helms

Attached is a  photo of Mason and Proud Grand Pa!!

Oh yea! I nailed a hog too!!

The landscape of south Texas is made up of thorny brush, mesquite flats and is an overall harsh and dry environment. The area usually receives less than twenty inches of rain annually. The harsh and dry environment and the genetics create a haven for the whitetail deer to thrive. My son Kyle, a senior at FSU and I made our annual trip to South Texas on December 10, 2009 to hunt with the Casey’s on the El Huisache Ranch. John Casey has been managing the ranch for over thirty years. His son, Todd, a charter fishing captain in South Padre Island during the spring and summer grew up on El Huisache. The ranch is over ten thousand acres of carefully managed deer herd. The ratio of bucks to does is approximately 1:1. They only take thirty or so mature five and a half year old and older bucks each season and a corresponding number of does to maintain the 1:1 ratio. A 1:1 ratio in the deer population creates the ultimate rut scenario and it was just getting started.

We arrived at the ranch around 1:30 pm on Thursday. The weather conditions were perfect for hunting deer. The temperature was in the mid forties and the skies were overcast, a light northeast wind blowing with a light mist falling. We got our gear ready and went over and looked at the pictures that Todd had on his computer from his Stealth Game camera. There were some absolute monster deer at several locations where he put his cameras. One deer in particular got my attention. He was a giant 160”-170” typical racked deer with awesome number and length of tines. He was photographed on another ranch the Casey’s control about ten miles north of El Huisache. I told John I would like an opportunity to take a deer like the one in the picture. We loaded up our gear and drove to La Encantada Ranch. John and I were in the double ground stand by 4:00 pm and we settled in for the afternoon hunt. I enjoy hunting with John. He has a great sense of humor and he has put me on two big bucks. In 2007 he rattled in a great heavy beamed 10 point with eight inch brow tines on the last day of a five day hunt. Last year we decided to go to the far side of the ranch on the first morning and a great 11 point with a nineteen and a half inch inside spread crossed a sendaro five minutes after shooting light. We observed some great young trophy and management bucks but did not see the deer we were looking for. We decided to come back in the morning for another chance to see the giant. Kyle and Todd picked us up and we returned to El Huisache for a great steak cooked over mesquite.

The next morning we were in the stand a half hour before shooting light. Once again we observed some  great young bucks. At 8:30 am John suggested we take a ride over to an area where he had seen a couple of really big deer crossing a road. We found the two rut road and parked across it so that I could shoot from the backseat of John’s crew cab truck. I used a six inch piece of half inch foam pipe insulation on the widow for a rest. The road is about two hundred yards from a fence line that separates the La Encantada ranch from the Robert East Ranch. The Robert East is a couple hundred thousand acres and has never been deer hunted. The Casey’s say the biggest deer in all of Texas live in the sanctuary of the Robert East Ranch. We had not been parked long when a doe stepped out  and crossed the road. I raised my 7mm-08 rifle on the rest anticipating what may follow her. A few minutes later a really big deer stepped out at about one hundred and fifty yards. He walked away from us not knowing we were there. I was looking through my scope and John was glassing trying to determine what he was. We finally determined he was a big 8 point as he crossed the road at three hundred yards. We decided to cruise the ranch until lunch when we headed back to El Huisache.

The afternoon we chose to stay at the main ranch and hunt. I chose a ground blind stand where Kyle had killed a really big 10 point the year before. We observed some more great young bucks but no shooters that afternoon. Just before last shooting light I received a text message from Kyle saying he had killed a really big 13 point deer. John and I walked back to the truck and headed back to camp. We met Kyle and Todd and celebrated there hunt. A giant 13 point with over a twenty one inch inside spread that scored one hundred sixty one inches. A true South Texas Monster Buck! We continued the celebration over a great Mexican dinner.

Saturday morning we decided to hunt a stand called “Absolutely Nothing”. We observed two really great young bucks that morning. One of the bucks was a three and a half year old 10 point that will be a true trophy if he can survive the harsh environment of south Texas. Around 8:00 am we decided to take a cruise around the ranch to see what is moving. Todd and Kyle were also riding and scouting for deer. At lunch, Todd said he had seen some big bucks feeding along a fence line to the north trap. We decided to set up a couple of tripod stands under a power pole along the fence line. The set up allowed us to see up the fence line for about five hundred yards and over a sendaro that separated two thick areas of brush. We set up the tripods and immediately started to hunt. The deer were moving right away. We did see a mature 130”-140” class 10 point that I chose not to shoot. I really liked the set up we had and we decided to come back in the morning. The cloud cover seemed to be breaking up and the temperature was rising. The weather was going to change.

On Sunday morning John and I were in the tripods under a crystal clear sky. There was no breeze and it was perfectly still. We were ready as daylight broke on the south Texas landscape. We observed a couple of really good bucks along the fence line about five hundred yards away moving towards us. Before we could get a good look at the bucks the combination of rising temperature and dew point created a thick ground fog that reduced visibility to less than seventy five yards. John and I were dejected as we left the stand to cruise the ranch in the fog. We got back to camp around 11:00 am. Todd suggested we try and rattle after the fog began to lift in an area that no one had hunted this season. Kyle, Todd and I got in the truck and decided to give it a go. We turned down a sendaro and spotted a pretty good buck feeding with a doe. We stopped the truck and decided to make a stalk to check out the buck. We got into the brush and  made our way towards the buck. Todd stopped and eased out toward the opening. The buck must have sensed our presence or seen us as he eased back into the brush. As Todd was glassing the sendaro when he exclaimed “Monster”. A Huge buck crossed three hundred yards away. Todd said let’s go. We walked down the sendaro  and tried to determine where the buck crossed. We got back in the brush and Todd clashed the rattling antlers together.  He worked the antlers, raking the brush and the ground simulating an intense buck fight in an attempt to lure the big buck back to us. We did manage to  lure in a spike to see the fight. Todd suggested we get out of the area and return this afternoon. We did return to a nearby stand that afternoon, but failed to see a mature buck or the buck Todd had seen this morning. We determined to come back and try again in the morning.

We were back in the blind about thirty minutes before shooting light on Monday morning. We could see several deer on the sendaro before shooting light including a couple of good bucks. Todd is an incredible talent with aging and judging quality whitetail bucks. I was amazed how he could see through the pre-dawn light and tell what the buck rack look like. He said that the big buck had moved back in the brush but he was now looking at a deer that had three splits on his G-2 and seemed to have more kickers and stickers. Todd determined he was a three and a half year old that will be an absolute stud in a couple of years. As we were discussing the buck Todd said “Monster! Don’t Move”. I was facing the opposite direction in the blind and could not help it but I turned my head and took a peek. When I saw the buck my vital signs had to go off the charts. My breathing and heart rate were racing. I do not know what to call it other than buck fever. Todd said the buck was an 8 point but that did not matter. I needed to get my act together and Todd and I needed to change positions in the blind without spooking the buck. We were able to pull off the switch and I settled in and took a rest on the window of the blind. I told myself not to look at the rack as I got my breathing under somewhat control. The crosshairs on my scope found a spot on his shoulder and I squeezed the trigger. I never heard the rifle report or felt any recoil as the buck hit the ground. I quickly chambered another round of 140 grain bullet  and was ready to shoot if he as much as twitched. The buck was down and a second shot was not required. Todd and I celebrated the hunt and the big 8 point. He is a true South Texas Monster Buck!

Our annual trip to South Dakota last week with Tom and Thomas Lobrano Surety Associates was an absolute blast. There were thirty plus contractors from all over the state of Florida and some friends of the Lobranos from Vermont. We stayed at the beautiful Paul Nelson Farm near Gettysburg. This is a first class lodge with the best hunting area I have ever had the privledge to hunt. Paul and Eric Nelson have poured there heart and soul into making it the premier hunting lodge in South Dakota.

We hunt in groups of six. Four walk the stips of corn, milo or sorghum and two guys block the end of the strips to keep the birds from running out. We had Myron McCall, Jeremy Isbell, Lamont Cook, Scott Houser, Richard Gaskin and me in our group. All of these guys are experienced and safe hunters and really good shots. The first after noon we hunted in shirt sleeves as the tempature was in the low fifties. That is a rarity for that time of the year. The next two days were cold windy and snow flurries. That is hunting Dakota weather. The birds flew great! Our guides Keith, Scott and Tom had really good dogs and we limited out on birds. Great to catch up with old friends and make new ones too. Can not beat Livin' the Hunt Life!!!

Major,

Deer hunting was not the same this year with out you even though we are livn da HUNT LIFE. Second shotgun season started out with a thump. One of my prized button bucks was hit by a car and killed right at the bottom of Log Cabin Hill RD about a half hour before shooting time opening morning. The corn on the lower and upper fields was harvested last Tuesday and Wednesday so I think it changed the deer movement a little but not for long. Friday I harvested half of a rack with 7 points and a 7 point management deer. The half of a rack with 7 points is a long story and was a very long shot with no kill. Anyways, my buddy Bob from Indiana arrived late Friday night and must of had a very stiff trigger finger that he needed to get worked out. Saturday afternoon he decided to go to the stand that you took your trophy buck out of. Well at 3:57 he sends me a text message asking if I had seen anything and before I could reply I heard him shoot. I can not text very quickly and before I could respond asking him if that was him that shot another shot goes off from the same spot. He sends another text informing me that he is wacking and stacking as we call it. Then he asks if I would pick him up at the stand at the end of hunt. I told him that he had to hit the trifecta or pull off a Hat Trick in order to get picked up. Well next thing you know another shot is fired from the same spot and I receive another text telling me that I will be picking him up at the stand. Now I know you know the old saying " Take a doe so the heard doesn't grow ". Well at this point I was not sure if I was going to even have a heard left because it was only 4:30 and we still had a half hour to go. Congrats to my buddy Bob for harvesting three great deer in less then 30 minutes. The remaining corn on Condits Ranch is suppose to be harvested this week. We are suppose to get 6 to 12" of snow tonight and tomorrow and then have temperatures in the single digets to low teens. Muzzle loading season opens Friday morning and I hope to have some Trophy buck pictures instead of a bunch of does. Good Hunting and Merry Christmas. I will update next Monday.

LIV'N DA HUNTLIFE

R.K.

I have been a hard core deer hunter for 20 years. I enjoy being in the woods never knowing what you might see next. I like aging and judging whitetail deer and taking mature bucks. I know there is much talk about every deer is a trophy but for me, if I need to put some meat in the freezer I shoot a doe. I went to Flint River Farms in Macon County last Thursday with the thought of putting a couple of does in the freezer. I arrived before 3:00 pm, was greeted by our huntmaster Don and Billy, put my gear away, showered and headed out to sit in one of three towers in an old pivot that are now planted 7+/- acre food plots. The towers are set up in good cover and offer a quiet place to sit and be unseen. There were already deer in the food plot named "L" when I got up in the stand. The deer poured into the food plot all afternoon and I watched the rut in full swing. Bucks chasing does, bucks fighting, grunting, snort wheezing, lip curling, does flagging their tails at half staff, peeing on their hocks repeatedly. There were over 20 deer in the food plot at several times during my two and a half hour time in the stand. One deer I identified as mature.  A 16.5" wide buck with 5 points on one side and a kicker on his G2 and 3 points on the other, missing a brow time. There was so much rut activity, I decided to pass him and hope something bigger would come into the field to check the hot does. I named him "ole 53". As daylight faded into dusk and dark, I climbed out of the stand thinking to myself this was the best hunt I have ever experienced and never even pulled a trigger. Billy Hamilton shot a really nice mature 4.5 year old 9 point at dusk and observed a couple more good bucks from his to tower in "Upper" food plot. I helped him load the deer up and we drove back to camp and to the processor. The talk at dinner was as excited as when we were hunting. Between three hunters we observerd over fifty(50) deer that evening. The next couple of days offered the same exciting rut activity. I changed my mind about shooting a doe because I had never seen the quantity of bucks cruising the woods. I took some great pictures of a young 10 point and some 8 point bucks and was content to to just wait for that right moment. As daylight was fading on Friday night, two mature deer entered the food plot at the far end over 250 yards away. I ran out of legal shooting light without ever gettting a real good look at either buck. I believe I observed 27 deer in the field at one time that evening and experienced another unbelievable day hunting. My son Kyle, a senior at FSU, and favorite hunting buddy arrived in time for dinner as did Tommy Ellis. Don, Billy and I could not contain ourselves as we described the deer activity over the last two days. The rut patterns continued on Saturday and we were seeing all kinds of deer moving through the woods. Kyle went to the "L" food plot on Saturday afternoon and was blown away with the activity. He ended taking "ole 53" who ended up being "ole 63" with 6 on one side and 3 on the other. What an incredible few days of hunting. We observed 288 deer sightings on a 740 acre piece of property! That is way off the charts and can only happen when the rut is at it's peek. Never pulled a trigger that weekend but it will always be burned into my memory as an unforgettable hunt life experience.

The New Mexico mule deer season opened at Philmont Scout Ranch in Cimarron on November 1^st, 2009.  Don Braddock and I traveled from Jacksonville to participate in this years hunt.  This was Don’s first visit to the high adventure mountain camp owned by the Boy Scouts of America.  This was to be my third trip to this beautiful and scenic 140,000 acre ranch.

We arrived in Colorado Springs and drove the 200 miles south through the Rocky Mountains and Sangre de Chisto Mountains.  There was snow already on the mountain peaks.  We arrived at Philmont in time to meet our guide, Charles Duran and sight our rifles in at the range.   Other hunters, old and new were getting settled in for the four-day hunt.  There were a total of 21 hunters this year.  Most of the hunters were returning for the awesome beauty of the ranch and a chance at trophy muley.

We ate dinner early because of Halloween and settled in for some after dinner drinks and fellowship with the other hunters in camp.

We awoke at 4:00 am and as November ushered in daylight savings time.  It was a cool 30? degrees when we stepped out to a perfectly clear starry sky.  We ate a big breakfast and were in the truck heading out at 5:15 am.  Hunting at Philmont is in 4-wheel drive trucks covering the almost 220 square mile ranch.  You drive ridges, canyons and pastures glassing the hillsides for deer moving or bedded down.  There are 13 areas of the ranch and the guides pick their section and keep in radio contact with Bob Ricklefs, ranch superintendent.  Bob coordinates who is in, leaving or covering each area of the ranch.  It is amazing to me how well the guides know the ranch.  We are talking about 140,000 acres. 

Don said I would be the first shooter.  I also was responsible for opening closing the many gates.  Don and Charles made several comments about my gate opening skills and called me “the gate bitch”, more on this later. 

We were in the area 7 by 5:30 am waiting for a 6:23 sunrise.  Legal shooting times are half hour before sunrise to one half hour after sunset.

We drove and parked near an impoundment that holds water for the livestock and wildlife. We glassed for a while spotting only one doe.  The trail roads at Philmont are adequately graded but were very soft and slick from the previous weeks’ rain and snow.  The roads were going to present a problem getting around the ranch.

We spotted a group of five does feeding around 8:00 am and did not see another deer all morning. We spent hours driving, looking, laughing, and joking around as we covered miles and miles of Philmont.  Charles talked about an injury he received to his eye while branding some cattle last year at the ranch.  He split his eyelid and had what he called a “cockeye”. We had a lot of fun with that one!  We checked out of  area 7 and returned to the motor pool to clean the mud from the front windows.  After we finished, Charles picked up the industrial hose and gave it a good blow so it would not freeze up.  Where is the camera when you need it? 

We checked into area 2 Urraca Mesa around noon on the south end of the ranch.  I had hunted this area some last year and had seen some big deer.

We drove up to camp Zastow and had lunch and rested up for a while.  There was a beautiful Rayado trout creek that ran by the camp.

We traveled the difficult trail roads up the ridge to a rock formation called toothache.  It is at elevation +/- 9000’.  We could see for miles.  We spent an hour with binoculars looking for deer.  We then moved to another location and glassed and spotted some deer feeding around 3:00 pm  We broke out the spotting scope but there were no shooters in the group.  Just seven does and one small buck.  We saw several bull elk feeding on the mountain pastures.

I was glassing an area that had a red roofed wooden port-o-let structure that are located all over Philmont.  I told Don “ I see a shitter”; he thought I said “shooter”.  Everyone got excited only to break out laughing “ a shitter, not a shooter”!

We continued to hunt into prime time.  Don and I got out of the truck and crossed a fence and stalked across a meadow where a doe and fawn were feeding.  They did not spook as we crossed in the open. We got back up in the truck as daylight was fading.  We entered area 3 and were greeted by hundreds of turkey heading for the roost.  We ran up a main road past “Lovers Leap”, a 300’- 400’ rock outcropping that was quite spectacular.

Daylight turned into night and day one of the hunt was finished. We drove over 100 miles of the most beautiful terrain, but no shooters today.  We went back to our room, ate dinner and lights were out by 8:00 pm.

Day two started at 4:00 am again and we were at the gate of area 11 by 5:30 am. Area 11 is also known as the Upper Ponil and is noted for its dinosaur footprints and Indian writings on the rocks.  We started our trek up the ridge road to House canyon. We observed two different groups of cow elk and a pretty good bull following one of the herds.  The ridge road of the canyon was very steep and soft.  Don and I had to hold on as Charles aka “Fireball Roberts” raced up the canyon trail.  Charles accused Don of leaving pistol grips on the door handles from gripping so tight.  We continued to drive the rim of the canyon.  We spotted two shooter bull elk on a nearby canyon ridge moving through the timber.  We did see a group of mule deer does and fawns as we descended down the ridge again into Cook canyon.  We stopped and had lunch on the tailgate and listened about “MSU”. Charles said he had a degree in “make something up.”  The lunch break was a good way to break up a slow deer hunt and stretch our legs.  We were covering a lot of the ranch looking for mule deer that were not cooperating.  Charles decided we should go south again and we entered area 1 and planned to hunt the afternoon in the Rayado creek area.  Charles and I got out of the truck and walked along the creek for about half mile while Don drove the truck around. We saw turkey and elk but no deer.  We also found some fresh bear scat. Day two hunting came to a close. The moon was full and rising above the ranch as we returned to camp, ate dinner and were in bed by 8:30 pm.

We awoke at 4:00 am with the moon was covered by clouds and the temperature was around 31? degrees.  Sunrise was at 6:25 am and we were back in area 11 by 5:30 am. We drove the canyon bottom until it was after sunrise.  Charles wanted to try Horse canyon but was concerned about the condition of the road.  We soon found out why!  The grade of the road is very steep, it was slick and there is nothing between you and death at the bottom of the canyon.  Only God knows how I felt inside as we started up the incline but somehow we made it to the summit without incident.  Don and I were puckered up from the ride and I mentioned that we had paid money for this experience.

On top of the canyon we regained our composure and resumed hunting.  We saw a group of does and fawns feeding in a burned blow down of timber and several unknowns running away as the truck approached.  We cruised the ridges all morning without seeing a mature buck.  We stopped and took a breakfast burrito break and discussed going back south again.  Charles had scouted a couple of really good bucks in area 2 a week earlier.  We stopped back at camp and one of the hunters had shot a 170” class mule buck in the hay fields behind camp.  There were regularly deer in the fields but we had not observed any good bucks.  We decided to check it to see what may have shown up overnight.  There were a couple of irrigation pivots and we could see deer bedding down around the pivots. We spotted another group of deer bedded near a tree along the fence. We stopped the truck and glassed the deer.  There were two mature bucks and seven or eight does.  The buck on the left was a 24”-25” wide spread 5 x 4 missing a brow tine. The other deer was a non-typical 6 x 7 with some trash points on its base.  We got a good look at them and decided either one was a shooter.  Don was up to shoot and he decided to pass.  I did not hesitate to get ready to shoot.  I grabbed my backpack and put it on the hood of the truck for a rest.  The deer were still bedded down so Charles got out and moved around the deer from across the fence. The does were the first to spook and took off with their familiar hopping gait.  The 5 x 4 followed the does and finally the 6 x 7 took off after his fleeing friends. The deer jumped another fence and the buck stopped on the other side thinking he had reached safety.  I had a good rest and I chambered a .338 round in the action. The cross hairs settled and the buck fever started.  I took a deep breath and squeezed the trigger.  The buck stood for moment then he stumbled forward and went down.  Wow, that happened fast!  Don and Charles and I had the high fives, fist bumps going as we inspected the fallen buck.  A trophy with 154” inches of antler and a non-typical rack.  After the picture taking session, the packers from camp retrieved the deer and returned it to the skinning shed for processing.  It was almost 2:00 p.m. when Don asked if we were planning to eat lunch.  In all of the excitement we forgot to eat.  We grabbed a quick sandwich at the motor pool and headed back out.  One deer down and one to go.  We went back to area 2 Urraca Mesa and climbed to the top of toothache again to glass the pastures below. We glassed but did not see any deer.  As the sun slowly set in the west behind the mountains we moved down and drove the pastures.  The deer were moving around 5:00 pm, but no shooters.  We observed some young bucks and does as another day of hunting came to a close.

Day four started as the previous mornings at 4:00 am.  We decided to hunt area 10 Dean canyon and were there again at 5:30 am.  There was considerably much more snow in this canyon than the others we have hunted and roads were still frozen.  I assumed my job of gate bitch and opened several, as we made our way up the canyon.  This canyon road was no way near the one we ascended yesterday.  Look Don, no hands!  We saw a couple of young bucks bedded on the side of the canyon but they were not even last day shooters.  We saw several more elk including a good bull moving along the timberline on the canyon ridge.  We crossed over from Dean canyon to New Dean canyon and were heading to Santa Claus canyon when Charles spotted two bucks feeding in the timber.  We stopped the truck and started to glass.  They were 100 yards away in some pretty thick woods and we had to back the truck up to get a look at their antlers.  We repositioned the truck again, but still were having some difficulty.  It was around 8:00 am when Don said lets pass. I suggested we try to get closer and get a better look.  We went off the main road onto a logging road were able to close within about 60 yards from the deer.  The deer are used to seeing trucks all over the ranch and seemed unconcerned about our presence.  We get a good look at the bucks from this vantage.  One deer is old and had good mass and a 6 x 7 rack.  Don asked me what I thought?  I told him the buck would already be dead if it were my turn.

Don decides to take the deer.  He gets a good rest, “triangulates” and “braces” for the shot from the passenger front seat of the truck.  His .300 Win Mag breaks the silence of the cold mountain air and the deer drops in his tracks.  Great shot!  A Philmont trophy 153” mule deer is down!  Pictures, field dressing, “Florida redneck display” and the trip back to camp.  We arrive back to our rooms by 11:00 am and we decide to take a road trip to see Taos, and the Rio Grande Gorge Bridge, which is spectacular.  We get back to Philmont in time for dinner then head over to the St. James Hotel bar with Charles and to watch game six of the World Series. We returned back to Philmont and shared a couple brown waters, relived the hunts, and the great time we experienced “ Living the Hunt Life”

There was not a whole lot to report from this past weekend's hunt other than the weather report. HOT, HOT, HOT. The deer did not move much during the day when we were in the woods. I arrived around 3:00 pm on Friday and Tommy Ellis and I hung my Gunslinger climbing tree stand in an area called Cherry Hill. The climber was positioned to overlook a road where the deer were feeding on acorns falling from several large oaks. I had a perfect set up to ambush a deer from 20-40 yards. It was still bow season on Friday. I  went back to camp, showered and got to my stand and was settled in a little after 5:00 pm. It was 85 degrees and very humid and I was ready with my Hoyt bow, Carbon Express arrows, and Rage broadheads. The deer however, were not impressed with my gear or choice of stand location and failed to cooperate. After dark, I climbed down and returned to camp to find Tommy and Billy Hamilton had not seen any deer either. We feasted on Alaskan halibut that Billy had caught this past summer, had a couple adult beverages and got ready to start the Georgia muzzle loader season on Saturday. It was 70 degrees and humid, I mean the air was thick when we got up on Saturday morning. The weather forecast had called for scattered thundershowers. It started to rain just after I climbed into a box tower stand in the same general area I hunted the previous evening around 6:30 am. It rained pretty solid until around 7:30 when it stopped. I thought the deer would really move after the rain stopped. At 7:50 I looked up and saw a doe and two fawns step out of the short pines and cut across the edge of a recently planted food plot. I got the muzzle loader up and ready but never got on the old doe before she lead the two fawns back into the woods. I got down around 9:30 am and saw a doe feeding on acorns in the road where I was sitting the previous afternoon hunt. I watched her for several minutes and noticed she still had her summer coat of fur. Like I said HOT, HOT, HOT!! I returned and ate breakfast and then went back to the same stand around 11:30 am and was determined to beat the heat. At 1:00 pm something moving caught my eye. There was huge wasp nest that was less than two feet from me in the corner of the stand and all of a sudden it was covered with moving wasp!! I grabbed my muzzle loader and backpack and vacated the stand as quickly and quietly as possible. I sat there for over 4.5 hours without even noticing it was there?? I moved to a ladder stand a couple hundred yards away and stayed another hour until the heat just got unbearable. I went back to camp and cooled off and watched some football until around 5:00 pm. Tommy Suggested I might want to sit in a ladder stand that is in a stand of thinned pines that is in between two thick bedding areas. I took his advice. The wind was perfect but it was still HOT and I did not see a deer during my hunt. I made a mental note that this would be a great place to hang a climber and get way up in the pines and see for a couple hundred yards. You can tell the deer cross in this area frequently. We dined on vinison burger steaks along with a French Syrah and a California Cab. Watched the Gators win(Billy is a Gator) and my Seminoles loose. Got up early Sunday and went back to the ladder stand at Cherry Hill. It was in a great area and the wind was just right but the deer did not show. I got down a little before 9:00 and sprayed the tower stand wasp nest, collected my climbing stand and prayed that the next time I return it will feel like fall and not summer.

This weekend I am heading to Flint River Farms in Georgia to hunt with Tommy and Billy. We are going to bow hunt on Friday afternoon and break out the smokepoles on Saturday and Sunday. The weather is questionable, chance of rain and not cool enough for me, but I can not stand it anymore.

Check out Hunt Life Outdoors Show hour at http;//huntlife.com every Saturday morning at 7:00 am (est) and 6:00 am (cst). The show will be broadcast live in Birmingham WJOX-AM, Montgomery WMRK-AM, Macon WFSM-AM, Savannah WJLG-AM, Gainesville/Ocala WMOP-AM and Jacksonville WJXL-AM. Former NFL Star and Mossy Oak Pro Staffer, Jeff Lageman and Mossy Oak Pro Staffer Capt. Kevin Faver give the best information, stories and practical advice for hunters and outdoorsman on the radio. If you miss the show you can listen to a podcast of the show  and all recent shows at http://huntlife.com. Come Live the HUNT LIFE with us!

Texas turkey season opened this past weekend April 4, 2009.  The Hunt Life team of Tommy Ellis, Bob Karel, Kyle Harding and I were back for another hunt with 5 Star Outfitters, Inc. in Christoval Texas.  This is our third year hunting with 5 Star and our eighth year hunting with Koby Howell owner of 5 Star.  We hunt the Rio subspecies and Texas is a target rich environment!  We arrived at the lodge on Friday afternoon and got settled in with our gear.  We enjoyed a great tenderloin steak dinner cooked on a mesquite fire and all the fixin’s prepared by our favorite cook Gerald Farris from Killeen, Texas.  Gerald has cooked for us seven of the past eight years and his cooking is over the top!  After a couple of adult beverages and stories of the recent turkey hunts we hit the sack with the anticipation of the upcoming hunt. 

We were out of the lodge on Saturday by 5:15 am.  Bob and I were hunting on the 5000 acre Middleton ranch about a twenty minute drive away.  Bob had arrived on Thursday as did Tommy, choosing the 20 hour drive versus a flight from Jacksonville for a little preseason scouting.  Bob and Koby had listened to several Turkeys gobble from their roost in the “valley” area of the ranch on Friday morning and already had a place to hunt picked out.  Tommy and Kyle were hunting the Harkey ranch where  the lodge is located.  Kyle was attempting to take a turkey with his bow while being filmed with cameraman from Dual Shot Outdoors, Chris Henry.

The weather was a warm 60° and the sky was crystal clear and the wind was blowing 15-20 mph when Koby dropped me in my favorite pasture on the ranch about thirty minutes before dawn.  I have had great success in this pasture and the anticipation of the roost gobbling was building.  Last year I heard no less than ten birds gobbling their brains our from the roost and on the ground to my calling.  I was primed and ready and so thankful to be back in Texas for another hunt.

I chose to not use a decoy because of the wind.  At dawn the wind did lay down and I was second guessing my decision.  I waited and waited and waited for that first gobble to wake up the Texas morning.  Not a sound was heard.  I called very softly then louder and louder but not a bird seemed to be in the same county with me.  I sent Koby a text of disbelief at 8:15 a.m. stating that I had not heard anything.  He told me there were several birds gobbling in the area he was scouting and said he was on the way to get me.

Koby picked me up and dropped me off on a road that ran through a cedar flat about a mile from were I was previously hunting.  The birds were gobbling in several different directions as I grabbed my gear and shotgun and headed into the flat.  I found an area that had a lot of turkey droppings and strut marks on a two rut gas line road and cut my way into the base of a cedar tree about thirty five yards off the road.  I set a hen decoy on the ground as if she was ready to breed.  The turkeys were still gobbling and they would answer my calls but would not come.  They obviously had female company.  I called pretty aggressively until 9:00 and then went to my every fifteen minute routine on the quarter hour.  I received a text message from Bob just before 10:00 stating he had not heard anything and he was bummed.  As I was going to respond to his text, I caught movement to my right.  Two longbeards were sneaking into the area silently.  They made their way down the road and were looking for the hen that had been calling to them fifteen minutes earlier.  The first gobbler stopped and I guessed he was about thirty five yards  out and fired my gun.  He dropped like a bad habit and the other bird ran down the road but stopped about sixty or seventy yards away.  I did not get up right away because I thought the other bird may come back to check out his dead compadre.  After a couple of minutes I reached for my phone to text Bob when the bird got to his feet and took off running after his buddy.  I dropped the phone and jumped up and ran after him.  He stopped at fifty or so yards and I tried to put him away but missed.  He ran into the cedars and I chased him for what seemed a couple of minutes until I found him trying to get under a tree and finished him off.  He was a three year old bird with one inch spurs and a nine inch beard.  The wacky, weird and windy hunt had begun.

Kyle just missed two birds with his bow on camera that morning.  He and Chris had some amazing film footage and a very fun hunt.

Bob and Tommy harvested good birds Saturday afternoon while Kyle and I did not score.  Sunday morning was 49° and very windy when we left the lodge.  Bob hunted a different area and I went back to the same spot that I shot the turkey the previous morning.  It was blowing 30 mph and cold when I sat down at 6:30am!  I could not use a decoy in this wind.  I did not heart a turkey at all that morning until 8:30 when a bearded hen walked up the road.  She was obviously going somewhere and I yelped softly to her after she passed by.  She was about fifty yards away and turned and walked directly to where she heard the yelp.  Right in my lap not three steps away looking for the source of the calls, ME!  She yelped and yelped, which I thought was great as she might call a big boy in.  I do not like them to get that close however for fear of getting busted.  I heard a gobble in the distance and she immediately picked up her head and headed off in the general direction of the gobble.  About fifteen minutes later I called again and I thought a jake gobbled back in front of me.  Next thing you know three birds are gobbling in front of me but I cannot see them because of a big cedar blocking my view.  They are getting closer and I still can’t see them.  A mature bird runs around the cedar and I whack him and jelly his head at 17 yards.  One bird flies off to my left and the other runs straight away from me to my right.  I swing the gun and shoot and miss two times as he heads down the road and out of range.  The tom was pretty much a twin of the bird I took yesterday.  Two birds, six shots, and I am as happy as I ever have been overcoming the most wacky and weird hunting conditions.

Kyle harvested two birds while being filmed that morning.  Bob shot two with one shot on Monday morning on film with Chris and Tommy left Sunday at noon to drive back to Jacksonville.  Thanks again to Koby and Robin Howell at 5 Star Outfitters, Inc.  for helping us “Livin the Hunt Life”

Major

Saturday March 21, 2009 started the Florida Central Zone spring turkey season.  The morning was quite cool and there was just a sliver of moon in the sky.  I had spent a couple of hours on Thursday morning listening to roosted gobblers and drove the property on Friday afternoon to complete my preseason scouting.  This was only the fourth time I had been on the property in Starke, FL.  It was 45° when I left my truck at 6:20 am and started the walk to the area I planned to hunt.  I had decided to hunt in an oak hammock adjacent to beautiful cypress swamp.  There was turkey sign everywhere.  I had seen two good birds in that area when I was riding through the property for the first time the previous Friday.  I was near the southwest corner of the property.  I set two hen decoys on a two rut road and backed up towards the swamp about 25 yards.  I have a small roll up blind I erected up against an oak tree.  I was set up by 6:40 am facing towards the west and ready for daylight.  The woods came alive around 7:00 am.  A crow’s call caused two birds to shock gobble in the swamp behind me a couple hundred yards I guessed.  At first light I heard something no turkey hunter wants to hear.  I heard the sound of wings sending a big bird to the other side of the swamp.  I had set up too close to the roost and had been busted by the bird in the tree.  He was roosted about ten yards from the tree where I was seated against.  Oh well that’s hunting!  The hens started their morning routine of the light tree yelps and I had a hen fly down in the hammock about fifty yards to my left at 7:15 am.  Two more hens flew down and milled through the hammock.  I guess they did not get spooked by my presence in the predawn.  I stayed in that area until 10:00 am thinking  that more birds would show up.  I had a great time just being in the woods.  I walked back to my truck and decided to drive around and see what I could see.  I saw a group of five jakes run down a road in front of my truck for a couple hundred yards before they decided to hit the woods.  I was making a right turn onto a firebreak when I saw a single longbeard cross the firebreak to my left.  I turned to the left and saw him hot footing it through the planted pines.  I thought this might present an opportunity.  I sped around the block of pines and quickly parked my truck, grabbed a decoy, my shotgun and my diaphragm mouth call.  I put the hen decoy in the road about mid way from where I thought he might appear and bailed into the planted pines across the road.  I was thinking a single male maybe wanting some female company.  I called on and off for about forty-five minutes and never heard or saw anything.  I loaded up and headed home around noon.

I did not hunt on Sunday.

I woke up at 4:45 am on Monday and started my drive to Starke in the rain at 5:15 am.  It rained moderately all the way to Penny Farms where it let up.  My strategy was to hunt the same general area but go deeper into the hammock and not disturb the roost I had messed up on Saturday.  Somewhere between Penny Farms and Starke I changed my mind and decided to hunt the area where I had heard the birds gobble from the roost on Thursday morning.  I could park by the barn and slip around the field and into woods with a pasture in front and the roost behind it.  I took my B Mobile strutting tom decoy and a hen decoy that I set up on the ground like she was going to breed.  I placed the decoys at the edge of the field and erected my roll up blind against a tree facing the south and waited for the day to break.  At 7:00 am four or five birds started to gobble from the woods across the pasture in front of me.  There was only one problem; the birds were on the other side of the woods three hundred yards away.  They gobbled nonstop until 7:15 am when I assume they flew down.  I did not hear another gobble.  I had several hens fly down in the field and fed in front of me.  At 7:30 am I noticed something moving in the pasture and could not tell what it was.  It looked like a fan of a struttin gobbler but different somehow.  He was about one hundred fifty yards away when I determined he was missing four or five of his primary tail feathers.  A big notch was missing from his fan.  He was in full strut with three hens getting his attention.  The hens were moving in my general direction with him in tow.  He mounted two of the hens in succession and had his way with the wenches.  The third hen was playing hard to get but he mounted her and finished the orgy.  The group was about seventy-five yards away.  I soft yelped and got split tail to look at my decoys.  He strained his neck and looked for a couple of minutes but did not leave the hens.  They were starting to leave the field to my right and were going to take the tom with them out of shotgun range.  I slipped up from my blind and started to move behind several trees that would give me cover to intercept the group.  I saw the hens walk by at about  forty-five yards but no gobbler.  Where did he go?  I was straining to see him when I caught movement to my left.  He was on a fast trot straight towards my B Mobile decoy.  I was standing and braced against a pine tree and took aim.  I whacked him at 26 yards and rolled him up!  WOW!  A great bird with inch and a quarter spurs and an eleven-inch beard.  I have harvested two Osceola’s this season and I am excited to hunt Georgia, Alabama and Texas in the upcoming weeks.  GOD is Good! “Livin the Hunt Life” 

WOW! Is all I can say!  The hunting on Saturday morning was as good as it gets!  Robert Graham, Bob Karel from Jacksonville and Paul Arguelles from Smut Eye, Alabama made the trek to Immokalee, Florida for the opening of the south zone spring turkey season.  This was my seventh year hunting with Stacey Howell and the first without my youngest son Kyle.  He thought it would be a better idea to take the boat and a bunch of college buddies and go fishing in Key West for spring break.  We arrived just after lunch on Friday and went straight to the groves to meet Stacey.  We spent the next several hours scouting some of the most remarkable wildlife habitat I have ever been in.  We saw deer, hogs, assorted fowl and yes some Osceola turkeys.  We found an oak hammock for Robert to hunt.  He set up a small blind and we vacated the area.  There was turkey sign all over.  We drove another mile or so to another oak hammock surrounded by dry ponds and cow pastures.  There was an opening in the hammock that bisected it giving access to the pastures from the east and the west.  I decided to set up on the opening tucked back under a short cabbage palm that had a lot of low hanging fronds.  It was surrounded by thick ground cover and provided an awesome set up if the birds came in either direction.  Bob had already found a place to hunt in a dry pond and we helped Paul get familiar with an area that Kyle and I had some previous success.  We checked into world famous Motel 82 and carried on our traditional happy hour hosted by Bob and went to the Seminole Indian casino for dinner.  We were back in the room by 9:00pm and ready to face the challenges of the 2009 turkey season.

We were up at 4:30am and left the motel for the ten-minute drive to the groves at 5:00am.  Bob wanted to be early! It was a very cool 50° and grabbed a light jacket, something I have never had to do before.  I was set up in my area after Stacey dropped me off and I made my way across the pasture by 6:00am.  The moon had already set, there was no breeze and it was very still and very quiet.  I set my Delta hen decoy to the east about 25 yards in front of me on the left hand side of the opening that bisected the hammock.  I placed another decoy to my right so it could be seen from the west pasture.  Now all I could do was wait.

At 6:15 the woods started to wake up.  Owls were hooting in the hammock and from surrounding hammocks and the crows started there morning screeching.  The first gobble was at 6:20am responding to a hawk’s loud call.  The birds went CRAZY! There were at least five male turkeys gobbling non-stop in the tree and on the ground for the next hour.  They responded to every call from live hens and to my calling.  I started a conversation with an excited hen still in the tree.  She flew from tree to tree and ended up directly on top of my decoy very agitated by my calling.  Our conversation had the gobblers so fired up I just knew I would be facing at a flock of longbeards at any moment as she flew down about twenty yards to the east of the decoy in front of me and spent the next 15-20 minutes pacing between my decoys yelping and clucking.  She called two jakes and they milled around and would not leave.  At one point the hen walked over and was less than three feet from me.  Another hen showed up from the west pasture and the two hens and jakes finally left about 7:45 am without drawing a mature bird in.  I was somewhat shocked that all of that live excited calling did not draw a big bird in.  The birds out in the pasture to the east were still gobbling.  They were 200 yards away, I guessed, but would still respond to my yelps, clucks and purring.  I mean soft purring.  Their hearing is incredible!

I was in a great spot and decided to sit tight and not try to “run and gun” after the flock.  I heard the last gobble about 8:00 am.  I waited until 8:15 and ran a series of yelps on my Halloran slate.  These pot calls are the best I have ever used or heard.  I reached over to grab my striker and was just about to run another series of yelps at 8:30 when I heard a cluck.  I looked up and saw a jake heading toward my decoy.  I saw a second red head coming into the opening and got the gun up only to see jake number two.  It was what I heard next that sent the hair on my neck standing.  The sound of drumming from a bird in full strut!  It only took a few seconds for a mature tom to parade up the opening.  He never broke strut.  I let him walk five steps from the decoy and he quarter turned and faced me.  I rolled him up at thirty steps with a hot load of #6 in his strutting face!  He only had one spur but it was an impressive 1.5” and he had a 10” beard.  What a rush! Turkey season 2009 has begun with a hunt burned forever into my memory.  Bob and Robert were successful as well, taking mature birds that morning.  Paul harvested a great bird (his first Osceola) at 4:30 pm that afternoon. 

This is truly Livin the Hunt Life.

Major