His parents are some of my closest friends and there was a connection with this boy that I had that was different...I saw a bit of myself when I was that age. He was obsessed with the outdoors and I can relate with anyone on that level regardless of age. I told his dad I'd take him and they met me at my hunting club's gate, much like other people would drop their kid off at baseball practice.
At sunrise we set up on an oak flat after locating 3 gobblers on the roost. They were a couple hundred yards away and gobbling at my calls. We heard em fly down off of the roost then they were quiet. Assuming they were coming to us we got ready...an hour later we heard hens and I knew our plan was ruined(for anyone that doesn't turkey hunt, the Hunter imitates a hen and the Tom comes to find a girlfriend. Mix in a real hen calling and its hard to compete...I'm not that good to compete with a live hen) I told chase we'll ease up on that ridge and set up. My idea was a Jake(young male turkey) may've be left out of the fun and we could trick him. We crept up through a thicket and were on the spine of the ridge. To our left was an extremely steep 75yd drop to some backwaters of the Coosa river, to our right was the edge of a thicket and the spine we were on and left side had large hardwoods growing.
Me and Chase were talking about our new plan when I noticed movement down the spine about 100yds, it was 2 turkeys, we sat down next to the nearest tree. Chase was a couple yards in front of me and I started a yelping sequence on my slate call. I honestly didn't know if they were hens or toms until they turned towards us. We watched them strut and jocky for the lead all the way down that spine . One had a 5-6" beard and the other was "the man". At 14yds the big one strutted and when he dropped out of his strut....Boom!!! Chase's little 20gauge turned that turkey over on his back. He jumped back up and started running to our left (towards the steep hill and water) and took flight. 2 more shots from Chase's gun and the turkey disappeared over the edge. I remember Chase yelling "He's getting away!!!" I thought, "Not if I can help it", as I started over the edge of that hill at a full sprint. The big Tom was rolling down the hill a ways in front of me and ended up landing in the water. I didn't slow down and lept into the backwaters to grab his bird. Standing there in knee deep water admiring this creature, completely overwhelmed with adrenaline I hear,(pardon the profanity) HOLY SHIT!!!! To my left about 50 yards away is a bass boat. The fisherman said he wished he had that on video...I can only imagine all that happened from his point of view. I told the fisherman an 11 year old boy up on the ridge had killed it and hurried back up to Chase. I watched a boy truly appreciative of his trophy. 11 3/4" beard 1 1/4 spurs and big. What a hunt! What a hunt! WHAT A HUNT! ...Also, somehow I broke a finger on my trip down that hill. I can't imagine a more eventful hunt by myself but being able to share the day with a young'un made it remarkable.
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