Long Gobble
By Bryan Simpson, Field Expert

The hunt officially started 2 years ago on opening day in a little patch of woods I call heaven. I found my self slipping down an old ATV trail like many times before. This particular day was not the average opening day for the Kentucky season. Cool temperatures with an approaching storm had the bird's tight lipped and hard to find. Locating with a crow call every 100 yards I finally struck an Ol Tom on a distant ridge. With excitement running through my veins, I slowly closed the gap and the game plan was laid out in my mind. Get as close as I can, be patient and deliver the sound that he wants to hear. Not quite that easy. It seemed as if the bird knew were I was the whole time (and probably did)! Although I left the farm that day empty handed, there was something about that hunt I just couldn't let go of and it was the same reason I went back time and time again.

Not only was the fact that the bird out smarted me eating away at my pride, it was the way the old turkey gobbled that completely amazed me. There was something about the sound he made that was completely different then any other that I have ever hunted. This bird gobbled with confidence and with a sound that shook the ground like a freight train. He always managed to gobble when I least expected, and the sound lasted for ever. At times it was like the turkey would have to take a breath to complete his sequence! For the remainder of that season as well as the last the bird I named "Long Gobble" managed to out whit me in ways that had me wondering if the turkey was connected with the other side. I tried every thing I knew and 'Ol Long Gobble always managed to see the sun set.

As I geared up for the 06' season my expectations were high. With some new gear in hand and some promising preseason scouting, I couldn't wait to enter the woods. My goal was to continue the quest for Long Gobble and if any of his buddies decide to give me a look they could be hunted as well. Over the past 3 years I narrowed his territory to a small 2 acre block of big timber, and like clock work he roosted in the same small clump of trees every time. The first two trips into his woods this year were just like that of the years past, a lot of gobbling, some great hunts but it was still like trying to get blood out of a turnip. On my third trip, I promised my self that I was not going to chase the old wise tom all day. All the hunts before I gave up on many other gobbling birds to play chess with a very smart turkey. Not this time, I was going after what ever was interested in my set up and sounds.

Consequently enough, once I arrived to the farm and the sun started to rise, the birds were fired up, to get close I had to walk right threw Long Gobble's living room. I was a little hesitant, however the more birds that sounded off a slow walk became a slight jog. With no detection I made it to a spot where I could begin the hunt. As I sat down with birds all over me a gobble rang out that I heard, the same sound I had heard before. He was in the area but not to excited to come my way. Gobbling only twice, it sounded as if Long Gobble was working away from me. As I called very softly and not too often I managed to excite a hen that was still on roost, she gave me a lesson in calling that day I will never forget. This proved to be the beginning of the end.

After twenty five minutes the hen started to quiet down and all of the early morning gobbling had almost stopped when I decided to deliver a few soft yelps from my diaphragm. No sooner did the first yelp role off my lips did a bird cut me off with a thunderous roar. As soon as heard it I knew it was him and he was only 50 yards out. As I look in the direction of the bird I caught some movement. It was the top of his tail feathers just over the rise. Long Gobble is now in full strut, drumming and closing fast. Once he was in range and the his head was clear I was ready for the shot. I took a much needed deep breath and pulled the trigger. Finally the bird I had hunt hard for 3 years was flopping at 37 yards.

Not sure why it all came together that day and it was a hunt I think about all the time. I believe the hardest part of the whole experience was not getting frustrated and going back time after time. Each hunt along the way made my appreciation for the sport climb to an all time high. That hunt was a perfect example of something happening when you least expect it. The key was being ready to react and making it all pay off!


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