Sometimes it’s the old gobblers that make you work the hardest—and leave you with the best stories.
This past Saturday, I got to chase one of those “old warriors” on a foggy Alabama morning with a good friend by my side. It was the kind of hunt that reminds you why we love this crazy pursuit so much.
Here’s how it all played out…
Story time...
Saturday was a good day!
Me and a close friend slid down to Sumter County, AL for a morning hunt this past Saturday morning. As the sun started to lighten up the sky, the fog rolled in.
But without disappointment, the first owl hoot revealed an "old warrior" on a mixed pine hardwood ridge across from us.
We made our way to the first setup and the rain during the night we were thankful for the rain during the night to quiet down my size 13 boots!
We quickly got set up and as we started a conversation with an Ace Batwing Call this old turkey showed us why I called him an old warrior.
He pretty much diced us up on that setup and quickly didn’t approve of where we were. We quickly got closer to his ridge to even the playing field.
The first set of yelps he cut me off... My friend had his gun ready, but the terrain just wouldn’t allow us to see him. The old turkey knew the lay of the land like a road map and was playing us like a fiddle...
My friend, like a seasoned turkey hunter, knew what I was thinking, and I knew what he was thinking. I went silent and let the turkey slip away and my friend tree hopped to another tree 5yrds allowing him to have a bit better view.
The turkey gobbled, and my friend pushed the limits one more time to grab a seat at the base of a giant white oak. I knew it was time to go back to calling.
A couple yelps - the turkey answered, cutting me off and letting me know he was still interested. I gave him a minute and turned my head to soft yelp directly away from the turkey.
Which in turn he was fully digging what I was putting down... He was totally tricked and thought I was headed away from him.
Then my friends 28ga broke the silence and the sound of a flopping turkey was all that could be heard across the ridge.
As my friend reached down and picked up the gobbler, I noticed quickly that this turkey was special. He was a 14-pound gobbler with a long stringy beard and a set of 1 1/4 spurs.
These little ridge runner turkeys are like little terrorist and are few and far between. I have seen them weigh from 12.5 pnds to 15 pnds and they just seem to always look and act different.
I have had older turkey hunters tell me that’s a true wild turkey. Who am I to say they aren’t?
Every turkey is special in their own way and every one has a special story! This Saturday was for certain a special hunt with a special turkey for a special friend!
It’s hunts like these that stay with you long after the season’s over.
That old ridge-runner gave us one heck of a chess match—and seeing my friend seal the deal made it all the sweeter. These sharp old birds don’t give you many second chances, and when they do, you better make the most of it.
Every turkey tells a story, and this one was no different. I’ll be thinking about this hunt next time I hear one fire off across a foggy ridge.
And if you’ve got one of those old warriors on your list this season—be sure you’ve got a call that can play the game. The Ace Batwing sure earned its keep on this hunt.
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See y’all in the woods,
~ Lyle