Figured this would be a good after season topic to kick around.

What has been the toughest bird you have killed? How many days did it take for you to kill him, and what did you do that led to success? What did you age him to be? Also, what birds are still out there giving you nightmares in the offseason? What have you tried so far and what happened?

To me the old one's always seem to share a few common characteristics. They have no pattern of day to day movement, they roost in multiple locations across multiple acres never using the same tree twice, and typically shy away from any turkey sounds thrown their way, be it calling or just scratching in the leaves. If a live hen doesn't walk up to them where they can see it, they get spooky and go the other way gobbling all the way just to let you know you were not fooling anybody. And sometimes, a live hen does walk up to them and speaks hen talk that would make a sailor blush, and they just turn a cold shoulder and go about their business like they could care less. Challenge his dominance and he is more likely to go over the next hill to watch the grass grow than waste his time teaching some jake who is boss.

I guess the first truly old bird I ever fooled with was in a club I joined down below Centreville. I didn't even know he was there until he was "given" to me by 2 other club members who double teamed him 4 straight mornings trying to kill him without success. There was a very small green plot with a small strip of open pines behind it. The property line was about 100 yds through the thin pines. Some days he would roost in the pines, other days he would roost back across the property line. Never seemed to be in either place on consecutive days. Also, he never seemed to venture further into our club. The road out in front of the green plot had little to no turkey tracks and the ones that I did find were hen tracks. He would gobble like crazy on the roost, then fly down the opposite direction of where you set up. On bright to semi-bright moon mornings it was impossible to get in there with him before daybreak because the pines were open and there was no understory. If you called to him on the roost, he was guaranteed to fly down the other way. Scratch in the leaves, he flew the other way. Decoys, forget it. May as well just set off fireworks. Multiple setups from different locations during the hunt never seemed to pull him in your direction either. The only thing this bird seemed to do that you can even consider a pattern was he liked to go about 100-200 yds across the line and gobble till his throat got sore. Tried a few times to slip in between where he roosted on our side to get in between him and the line, but he was never roosted on our side when I did it. Even if he was in the tree, it was next to impossible with the openess and terrain. Heck, he may have been in the tree and saw me slipping in behind him in the moonlight and just sat there, quiet till I gave up and left. The only thing I was not able to try was roost him late in the evening.

I gave him back to the other guys after a 5 or 6 mornings on him. To my knowledge he is still down there, walking that property line and putting his voodoo on the next group of unsuspecting turkey hunters.

I have had two.

1. Ol Whiskers (Perry Co, Alabama). I hunted this bird for three seasons. Age ?: Very old

Not just hunted him, but hunted him hard. Every morning I hunted was dedicated to him.

The kill: I went in his roost area which was 100 acre hardwood bottom, where he would roost in various places. I sat there until the misquitos tried to tote me off, and about 30 minutes before flyup time I just gave up. It was either that or be eaten alive. I was walking back to the truck and I came around a bend in the logging road and there he was with about 25 hens. He flew to the right and every single one of the hens flew to the left. The next morning I sat down where they were standing in the road and shot him coming to me in a dead run. He was so old his head was almost a black color.

2. The High Hill bird (Chambers Co, Alabama). 3 days. Age: 4+

I got to go to this club as a guest several times late one turkey season. The members had told me of a bird that they couldn't kill. He had tormented them for two seasons and most of the time wouldn't gobble at all. On the rare morning he would gobble, he would head the other way if you called to him. My buddy never would turn me loose on the High Hill bird that season, but I got the invite to join the club the next season. March finally came and I had taken off the entire first week of the season. I hunted opening day and the High Hill bird had one of his rare gobbling mornings. I watched him strut in a road after flydown and he even answered me a time or two. Eventually he went the other way. That afternoon I decided to do a little homework and sat on that hillside and listened for him to fly up. He flew up at dark and I got the general area that his roost tree was in. The next morning I hunted in another area and killed a different bird. That afternoon I left the shotgun in the truck and went down into the area where he was flying up. At dark I saw that old joker walking down a ridge. He stayed on that ridge until flydown time, and then he took off running and just jumped off the ledge and sailed into a big pine. I tried him the next morning but he wouldn't come to my calling. At lunch my buddy was making fun of me and telling me that bird was going to make me beleiver before it was all said and done. I told him that the High Hill bird would be no more by dark tonight. I slipped in there about an hour and a half before dark and when he waddled his big butt down that ridge, I smoked him at 20 yards.

1) Southern Middle TN - Young 2 year old - 1 day
The toughest bird that I have ever killed was about 4 years ago. I walked in early through a grown up field to a hardwood ridge that I often used for a listening point when I didn't have anything roosted from the day before. I sat down on the side of the ridge so I could hear a huge ridge across the creek bottom from me and 4 or 5 finger ridges. I heard one bird early and started slipping toward him slowly. I set up on him and made a few calls, but was still 150 or so yards from him. While I am messing with this bird another bird hammers from the exact location where I had just walked in and pretty close. I slip around the tree and get ready for him, but after 20 minutes and 40-50 gobbles he hadn't moved. He gobbled good and I could tell he was pacing the ridge top, but he would not budge and no amount of calling could talk him to me. He finally moved off and I gave chase as the other bird had shut up on me. In the time from daylight to 3:00 I probably set up on this same bird 20-25 times. He would gobble at anything that made a sound and would cut the distance in half to hen sounds, but half was it and I could never get closer than 100 or so yards to set up each time. I tried calling and then running at him and sitting down to wait on him to come in. I would call and walk off the whole time. I tried everything I knew to try. I shut up, I called loud, I scratched leaves, I swapped mouth calls, I was at a loss for things to try. I pulled out every pot calla nd striker I had. If a bird in TN ever gobbled over 500 times in a day this bird did without a doubt. After doing another huge circle halfway around the property to get in front of him once again I set down, pull my hed net off and get a big fat chew of red man and just listen to him gobble. I listen to him for 30 minutes, pick up my box call and give my best imitation of a yelp, he runs 300 yards and gets shot in the face at 20 yards at almost 4 in the afternoon. I had never been out of hearing range of the bird all day and didn't have a bottle of water or anything to eat. I just knew he was an old warrior with huge hooks and a big rope. He ended up having a 8.5" thin beard and 1/2" spurs. I guess he was scared or something, but he sure put a wooping on me that day.

2) S. AL - 4+ - 3 days
We arrived in S. AL. around 2 Thursday afternoon after a week of training in Montgomery and hit the woods on a 800 acre hunting club near where we were staying at. Nothing was going on and it was HOT so we headed in to get some much needed rest and fill our stomachs to prepare for the day ahead of us. We were headed to a 4000+ acre plantation to hunt Friday to Sunday so we were pumped up about that.

We met the guy that owns the plantation at 5:30 Friday and he took us to a listening spot. We finally heard the first bird sound off late about 6:30 and he said that is ole "Headache" right there and you don't want to waste your time on him because no one can kill him. I sort of laughed and thought I needed to try him. He told us that he would gobble on the limb 1-3 times and when he hit the ground he was done gobbling for the day. He and his buddy had tried to kill him the last two years and could never make it happen. I told my buddy that I would guarantee a bird that acted like that was an old coot that would have razors 1.5" long. We did not go after him then, but chased another bird a couple ridges over with no luck. We came back to the hardwood bottom he was in and tried him a few times over the rest of the day, but never heard another peep out of him.

Saturday we met up again and headed in after old "Headache" this time and was able to get within 100 yards of him before flydown, but he only gobbled 3 times and then nothing else the rest of the day after he flew down. We put some serious miles on the boots from noon to dusk and never could pull another gobble out of a bird. There were some of the most beautiful virgin hardwood swamp bottoms, large pine stands, and fields that I have ever had the pleasure of hunting. I did manage to come within a foot of stepping on a 3.5 - 4 foot cottommouth that was not happy at all to see me. I about crapped and I think my buddy may have. He is petrified of snakes to say the least.

Sunday morning we did the same thing again, but we got in there a little earlier in hopes that old "Headache" would sound off and we could get close to him. As it got daylight we were ready and old "Headache" sounded off at about 200 yards across a huge lake in a location he and later on his grandfather said they had never heard a bird in. He told us to "KILL THAT BIRD" so we made a circle through some pines that had been cut last week and got between him and a 200+ acre hayfield that I thought he would want to go to. We got set up on a long stretch of road that was slicker than ice from the rain. They call the stuff post oak mud down there, but I call it the stickiest mud ever made. It isn't deep, but it sticks to EVERYTHING it touches and builds up by the inches under your boots. I am sure some of ya'll know what I am talking about. We put our guns on our knees and tried to settle down some from the sprint around on him. I was pretty sure if there was a perfect setup on him that this was it. We finally had a good idea where he wanted to be after 3 days and knowledge that the guy had given us earlier on of what he liked to do. I was able to get 4 more gobbles out of old "Headache" as he slowly worked his way through the cut pines and made his way onto the road in front of us. He was very cautious and just ever so slowly was walking towards us. I flipped the safety off and told my buddy that I could see him coming in. He would take a couple steps and crane his neck, take a couple steps and crane that neck, he finally got to a large opening where I was sure I could kill him and I let the Super Black Eagle and a load of Nitro's sail down range at his big old softball head. He hit the ground and I was sort of stunned that we had hunted this bird 3 days and were completely disgusted with him and the other guys had hunted him for 2 years straight and had never gotten a shot at him to my knowledge. He was a wise old bird that deserved the nickname they had given to him. He was as still is my best bird ever.

3)Southern Middle TN - Age?? 10-15 hunts and nothing
I hunted another bird the same year as #1 I think it was that would roost just over the property line and would not gobble not even one time on the ground. He would gobble a couple of times on the limb and when he flew down that was it until he flew up again in the afternoons. I went to him 10-15 times that year and only saw him one time at about 100 yards across the property line. He would not answer anything at all not even a real hen. I would watch every hen that was roosted with him fly down and walk by me on more than one occasion and he would never come with them onto our property and I would never cross the property line to kill him. I never heard him the next year and he was still there on the last evening of the season because I heard him in the same place as always. He would have been easy to shoot off of the limb if I was into that because he would roost in the same 5 acre area every afternoon.

4) Michigan - 3yo - 3 days
We started out Friday at a farm where Britt had been hunting a few birds on this year and had some others take birds off of already. We got on a bird right off, but he hit a hay field with a hen and gobbled until he went out of hearing distance. Britt had to go to work so Chris and I headed out and hit several more farms in the county and finally heard another bird about 2, but he was not on property we could hunt. We knocked on the door of the old farm house sitting there and told the old man what we were wanting to do and he told us to have at it. Chris and I make a big circle to get around on him get into a pretty good spot to try and work him. To make a long story short we set up on him in a fence row and Chris gave him a few soft calls and a few minutes later he came into a small swamp head and came right into gun range.

Saturday was rainy, high high winds, and colder. We set up on the same bird as on day 1, but in the hayfield where he had given us the slip the day before. We put out a decoy and backed up in a blow down. He turned out to be roosted in the same place as the morning before and did exactly the same thing as before. A hen came into 17 yards and put on a calling contest for us, which pulled the gobbler toward us. We could hear him in behind us at about 40 yards or so drumming, but when he came into the field he was to far away and would not come into our decoy. Britt told us this bird had been called to, shot at, and bumped, and you could tell he was pretty leary of everything. He was pressured to say the least. He finally worked off and we headed for other places to try and strike up another bird.

Britt had to go to work again so Chris and I started checking out several different farms but didn't have any luck. He ended up having some things to do so I had him drop me off at the hay field about 2:30 or 3 and told him to come back and get me at dark. It gets dark LATE that far North, you can still see out at 9 or later at night this time of year. I knew I had 5 or 6 hours before fly up time to try and get a bird or get one roosted so took out to make something happen. I had started walking up a fence row that borders a big hay field and spotted a big bird all alone in a plowed field next to the hay field. To make a long story short, this bird would not come to calling, he would actually go the other way if you called to him, which is why I think it was the smae bird from the mornign hunt. I slipped, circled, crawled, and snuck all around this bird for the next 6 + hours, but never could get him any closer than 90 yards or so. We put him to bed late Saturday night and devised a plan to kill him this morning.

This morning we set up and ended up being 70 or so yards from what sounded to me like a jake and a few hens. The bird I was on yesterday gobbled his fool head off on the roost a couple hundred yards out and finally after an hour or so showed up in the field in front of us at about 200 yards with a couple hens. I didn't really figure he would leave hens to come and investigate, but we made a few calls to him and he worked toward us a few steps and down into a draw in a cut corn field out of sight. I sort of relaxed and thought he would follow the hens out of my life once again. The next thing I know he is running at half strut at 60 yards over the crest of the ridge or so and closing fast. I get the bead on his head and when he got to about 40 steps I let him have it.

Out of 23 seasons in AL, 105 ALABAMA gobbler kills (out of 120 gobbler kills), and 393 gobblers called inside 40 yds, I don't believe I have hunted the same gobbler over more than a week. I have radio-tracked enough turkeys over the years to get an excellent feel for movement patterns of turkeys in FL, GA, and AL. Most biologists I know (plenty) have the same feeling that naming gobblers is a romantic form of anthropomorphism. It makes folks feel like they have an advantage of smarts when they can say they have figured out a critters (with a brain the size of a walnut) patterns. Movements in general are too erratic and random and gobbler groups are too variable on a day to day basis to have any idea you are hunting the same gobbler from day to day. They mostly look the same, sound the same and act the same and unless there is a particular identifier, it is virtually impossible to tell one gobbler from another. Home ranges and patterns overlap on a daily, seasonal, and yearly basis. As I have said before, same bird a couple days - probable, couple weeks improbable, couple months - highly unlikely, couple years - virtually impossible.
As 3toe said : Then how do you know it is the same bird But folks say they have seen mountain lions in AL in the last couple decades too

One was killed 8 miles from the Alabama border less than two years ago by a deer hunter in West Point, GA.

I guess it's asnine to think there could possibly be more than one.

:rolleyes:

Well, I will not bet the farm with 100% certainty of any bird being the same one year after year. HOWEVER, , I feel pretty confident of one I and several others hunted this year is the same one and been there a while. I have a picture of him 3 years ago on a game camera. I saw him this year, roosted within 150 yds of where the picture was taken 3 years ago, and watched him on the limb. He looked the same in size/beard, and I find it hard to believe two birds of this maturity could share the same couple acres. It is possible the one from 3 years ago died and his twin brother moved in, but I am not ready to take that leap just yet. Whether he is or isn't is irrelevant, he is enough of a challenge for me to have me chasing him again if he makes till March 15, 2011.

Come on gobbler, tell us a turkey hunting story. Out of that many kills I am sure you have some good one's. We can debate in another thread.

BC/YEKRUT, I enjoyed reading those stories, felt like I was there.

I have to disagree with gobbler. Ive hunted 4 or 5 over the years for most of the season & a couple for more than one season that I would bet the farm was the same bird.
Back on subject,
Most of the smart birds ive delt with have been my own students. Like I said in another thread, "I can be a heck of a teacher."

My first one I always go to "Stubborn"
I called him up the first time I sat down on him & missed him. Then spent the next 3 years trying to kill him. Never did but he was one that you knew when you sat down on. He would double & triple gobble at anything but knew his limits. Just out of sight, whether it be 30 yards or 100 he stayed "Just out of sight". Never killed him.

The old reclaim bird.
A buddy of mine that use to be on here by Possum took Buckscent one year to the manegment area we hunted & Buckscent found this one strutting a reclaim. He tried him a while with no luck, finally took to crawling & took a shot. You know Buckscent, "he missed" . I think he fooled with him a few more times & I started messing with him for the last couple of weeks of the season. He would gobble pretty good on the limb but after he heard a call would stop & check everything out for 15 minutes or so & then start gobbling again, finally to fly down & never make a peep as to witch way he went. Again No kill.

The first one I ever put time into was when I was around 16 or 17 I think. I was going down a dirt road & saw several turkeys cross the road. I circled around & set up. I started calling & after a few minutes I had 6 or 8 hens at 20 yards. I looked them over & decided it was all hens & I needed to find a gobbler so I just stood up. When I did I found my gobbler, he was just over the break of the ridge strutting at about 35 yards. Man I was mad at myself.
The next several mornings I was there trying to call him back up. I cant remember exactly what he did but I know I chased him all over those ridges with no luck. He had one fault thou. He always roosted in what sounded to be the same tree. So one afternoon I was planning to be setting there & a buddy wanted to go. I said sure I will let you have first shot & I know where gonna get one. We sat there & sure enough shortly b4 flyup here he came. At around 75 yards I clicked my safty off still just as a backup shooter & BOOM!!! my buddy shot. Bird turned & ran up the hill. I said WHAT THE HECK ARE YOU DOING!!!?? He said, "I heard you click the safty off & thought you where about to shoot." I was a little irritated. Just a little.

Last one I will mention.
I hunted one for, I guess 4 mornings or so that would always hang up just over crest where you couldnt see. The last day I got in there & he did the same thing, going back & forth. This time I just got on my hands & knees & started easing his way. When I got close I waited for him to go to the right & gobble & I closed the last 10 yards fast & hid behind a tree. When he returned, Boom Flop. My fist one ever I had put time into & I was proud. I guess 3 year old, had 1 1/8" spurd if I remember right.

I guess there may be several of these birds I have encountered but only two or three really stick out in my mind.

#1 Coosa Co. Hustler
I hunted this gobbler for 3 years. First year he would roost on a pond dam that was impossible to get to. So I would get in between him and the hens and hope for the best. Everytime it's like he knew I was there. He would fly down in the other direction after gobbblin' his head off for 30-45 mins then shut up. Next time you hear him he was a mile on the other property. I did walk up to a greenfield later in the day only to see his big ass out there strutting with 3 hens. I didn't want to educate him so I backed out. The next year I cleaned a path to get to the pond dam so I could try and be right there with him. Well this worked except it's so thick in there you can't see up the trees. I hear him sound off so I back off the dam about 15 yards and wait him out since I know he's within 75 yards and he "always" goes this way. I hear him fly down and hit the ground. No more gobblin'. Never saw him or heard him for the next hour or so. I waited there patiently with gun up so I wouldn't be "suprised". All of the sudden, about 10 yards or so behind me, I hear the loudest gobble I've ever heard. Well, I jumped from getting the s**t scared outta me, he jumped cuz I scared him and I never saw or heard from that ol' bastage again! The last year I hunted there I killed a few birds but none were as old as that ol' bird.

#2 Cane Creek Crippler

Well, I started out hunting this ol' boy opening day right after day break. It was windy and very overcast and kind of cool out. He gobbles about 7am and then I hear the hens fire up. I slipped towards where they are and I spot them in the pine thicket. Got within 70 yards and all I can do is watch through binos. He's got a beard that looks like a damn necktie! I watched them strut around and then the hens carried him off to the creek. Never heard or saw him again that day. I go back the next day and he's roosted on the creek again. So I slip down there in the darkness, mind you it's extremely thick and set up. There are a few open areas to get so I picked what I thought would be the best one. Of course, he gobbles a ton and pitches off towards the property line. Once he hits the ground he gobbles the whole way away from me (laughing at me I'm sure). This all went on several times until I finally figured out where he wanted to go. The property line ran real crooked in there so I was able to get down across the creek and onto a flat where I found a lot of sign. I started at the flat expecting him to be in the general area. Of course he was not. Never heard him that day. I take ol' 3toe with me to see if we can split up and catch him slippin one way or the other. He's back! Roosted on the creek in a big red oak. He gobbles for over an hour, strutting on the limb with his necktie beard hanging down. It was real foggy that morning so he didn't want to fly down til after 8am. I had to get to work so I left 3toe in there with him. No luck for either of us that day. He went away as always. I went back later that week, stood in the road and listened. He sounds off but he's not on the creek but close to a greenfield. So I run back towards the greenfield and get settled in. By now he's on the ground and close! I call to him, he fires back. I can hear him spit and drum thinking this is it, it's finally going to pay off! Wrong. Behind me I hear what sounds like 10 people walking through dry leaves. I turn slowly to see what the hell is going on and I see 10 or so hens going to him. I never saw the gobbler that morning but as soon as the hens made it where he was I never heard another word. So I back off a few days and 3toe and I go back after him. We didn't hear anything until I got the old camp longbox out and he fires up a long way off. We go after him, probably 1.5 miles. We get down on the road he is on and he gobbles within 50 yds or so. I stayed back to call and 3toe got the green light to shoot. That damn gobbler would gobble at everything but continued to walk away from us down the road. We waited until he hit the curve in the road and made our move down the road with him. We get to the curve and check him, he gobbles within 50 yards again. We stop and set up, call and scratch he gobbles. All of the sudden I hear this awful high pitched sound and then the sound of footsteps in the leaves. A damn black mutt comes running down the hill right to us. I'm ready to blow his damn head off but 3toe advised me to wait as we might ruin our hunt if we shot him. We let the dog clear the area and never heard the gobbler again. We walked the road out to a fire break and we hear a fighing purr across from us about 100 yds on the side of a cutover. Two gobblers (One of them being the crippler) were getting after it! I've never seen this before so we watched for a few minutes then they disappeared onto the adjoining property. After that hunt, which was close to the last week of season I never heard him again. I think 3toe has a story or two he could share that would sound like mine and I think we both agree he made it through. I just hope he makes it til next March because I owe him a shot! (of lead that is).

Now that's a buddy. :rolleyes:

I take it you don't hunt with that clown anymore.

Great stories guys!
I have one, I hunted this bird in Shelby Co. several years ago, messed with for two years. The first year I got close a couple of times but for some reason I just did'nt want to kill him by sneakin up on him. Although I'd been taught to kill em any way you can (legally). I guess I wanted to call him up fair and square for some reason maybe it was personal,who am I kidding you know it was personal! Me and a old turkey hunter hunted him some, he named him Dirty Bird(the first of several to carry that name). This bird on opening day, acted like he had been hunted for hard already. The guy I hunted with some refused to hunt him, saying " There's another turkey gobblin around here that wants to die". I found myself wanting to hunt this turkey, maybe since I was kinda new at it I was tryin to prove something . I knew a neighbors boy was hunting him as well. A couple times a week I'd find myself set up on him, He roosted within a hundred yards of the same tree if you got up on the mountain with him and done so much as scratch in the leaves he would fly down in the bottom. If you came in below him he would stay up top and gobble his head off. After about an hour, he would get bored and head out the mountain on a logging road that went for miles. There was a little bottom that ran down the mountain , when he got ready to leave he would move off towards the lil bottom. When he got in the bottom he would sound a lot further off all of a sudden.When he came up the other side of the bottom it was like he would get on a bicycle and haul butt, gobblin every few minutes. When this happened you couldn't get in front of him to save your life.(Fast forward) The season's almost over only three days left, all the turkeys I'd been hearing were already dead, so I make a plan to go after him. I get to the bottom of the mountain right below where he's at,I'm promising myself that I wouldn't make that climb up for no reason.As soon as it started getting daylight he gobbled right above me on a little finger that came off the mountain. I was set up in the bottom on the same little finger he was on. He flew down in the road and gobbled his head off, I give him some soft clucks and scratch in the leaves mostly. This went on for three hours or more, I was supprised that he was stickin around so long.I thought maybe he would finally give in and come on down, then the inevitable happened he moved towards the east towards the bottom and his bike.I knew it was over then, the hunt and my season! I needed to do something and fast. I grabbed my gobble box and gobbled at him ,silence for few minutes, so I cut on my mouth call and gobbled again. After more minutes of silence and thinking I've scared him off or something, I gobbled again and BAM!! he gobbled right back above me. I knew then I was gonna kill this turkey, I didn't know it was gonna take another hour and a half to do it tho. He stayed above me gobblin and I just scratched in the leaves some. He would shut up for a few minutes, about the third time he shut up, I heard him yelp just off to my left below the finger I was sitting on. I could hear him drummin and could barely see the top off his head as he came down beside me. I was having to turn as he was walking beside me almost, every time I would move I would scratch in the leaves. After he got past me he finally turned to come up the finger at forty yards I shot him almost completely behind me. Probably one of the most gratifying turkeys I've killed in twenty years of hunting them. Plus it was my first time to limit out. I'll always remember that bird and that hunt for sure. He had one spur that was 1 3/16 and the other was 1 1/8. Sorry for getting long winded and I'm sure I misspelled some stuff. Will I have to put an asterisk by the turkeys I killed with names?

Not much, I have hunted with him a few more times. On his turkey farm of a hunting club.

Breeze, Ol' Stubborn. That sounds familiar for some reason. Was he a Vance bird? Maybe you were just telling me about him one day.

I was prolly just telling you about him. He was a west jefferson mngmt area turkey. I hunted him for 3 years. I would fool with him several times & then go find a dumb one. Then go back to him. He would make you feel good about your calling by gobbling 150 or 200 times a morning & hang around for hours but never would show.

I've enjoyed reading about yalls tough birds. I have only been turkey hunting for 8 or 9 years now but I've got two that come to mind. Both were when I was younger and dumber. Looking back now I think I could have killed them if I knew then what I know now but I guess thats part of the learning curve. Needless to say, neither one of these stories has a successful ending.

#1 Black Rock Alabama (Crenshaw Butler Co. Line)
This particular bird broke me into turkey hunting. I had never killed a bird before, and really had just begun turkey hunting. I had deer hunted this lease quite a bit and they had just clear cut roughly 40 acres of timber. Well, come spring the turkeys were loaded up in the clearcut. I had a high school buddy who had killed a few turkeys and we began going every weekend. We quickly learned that there were a few gobblers around the clearcut every morning, but there was one in the Southeast corner that was there every morning. There was a good sized creek running through that corner of the cut that had big hardwoods on it and he roosted right where a logging road crossed the creek. We always set up on that turkey and messed around with him off the roost and he would always get out in the clear cut and strut and call his hens to him. It was a lot of fun to watch and hear but we tried every set up we could come up with and never could get him. I went in there on the last afternoon of the season and set up on the North side of the creek on a brush pile and at about fly up time I see him across the creek and he flew up in his usual spot but I wasn't in range. I thought about rushing him and trying to take a shot but surprisingly I didn't. Looking back now, he would've been an easy one to kill in the afternoon I imagine but oh well.

#2 Glenwood AL (Crenshaw Co.)
This was a couple of years ago at a different lease. This particular bird was tough. He had the perfect roost location to make him a real pain. Theres probably about a 5-10 acre pond on this lease that is fairly long and probably 200 yards wide. Theres an island in the pond that is probably 1 acre that has huge pines on it. Well this gobbler liked to roost on the island most of the time. He usually gobbled pretty good in the tree but never hardly gobbled on the ground. He would always pitch out either east or west to two good landing areas about a 100 yard flight. I unfortunately had the pleasure of watching him make this flight to the opposite side of me too many times to count. He would respond to calls and continue to gobble then fly down the opposite way. Some mornings I would just guess and not call and never managed to guess right or he wouldn't be on the island that morning. Once again, the last afternoon I declared all out war. I had enough. I crossed the pond and got on his island and waited. Well dark rolled around with no sign of the turkey so he had beat me again.

Well that's the two that really haunt my turkey hunting past. I continue to learn more and more everyday I am out there and it's tough ones like these that make shooting a gobbler so rewarding. Now, I guess we just have to wait until next year

Got about 138 of them (had about 18 misses ) but none on multiple season kills of 4 and 5 yr olds The only named turkeys I have killed were named by others and ended up being either easy, young, and not the bird anyone thought it was

I fooled with what I think was the same turkey for 2 seasons a few years ago and finally killed him about midway through the third season I fooled with him.

He always roosted in a little narrow hollow that ran straight up and down the mountain down low.....There was a nice wide bench on either side of the hollow and he would normally just plop right down in the hollow and then walk up on one bench or the other.

If you ever called to him in the tree or just after he hit the ground, he would invariably walk out the other side and gobble until I had to go to work or he assembled a harem of hens. It was impossible to get in the hollow with him without spooking him because it was so narrow and you would have to sit right under him. It was impossible to get above him in the hollow because it headed out in a big bluff and outcroppings of giant limestone boulders.

After fooling with him who knows how many times, I finally just gave up and quit going to him when I heard him gobble.....Finally I got mad at him and decided I would take an unsuspecting buddy with me and tell him I would put him on a gobbling turkey (he gobbled every morning) and then just slip around the head of the hollow in the dark and sit down on the opposite bench and never call and shoot the turkey when he walked out on my side.

My plan never materialized, I already had my victim lined up to go with me on a Saturday, but I slipped in to that same place on a thursday morning before work with intentions of working another turkey I had heard a few days before......I never heard another turkey, just the old impossible one I had fooled with so many times. I went to him and sat down and gave a couple of half-hearted yelps the first time I heard him gobble on the ground just like I had done a hundred times before. The turkey gobbled one more time, then walked right out in front of me like a 2 year old on a string.......When he walked out on that little bench at about 30 yards, and didn't see a hen, you could see the color of his head and his demeanor change instantly. I know he didn't see me because I was HID, but he took off running like somebody had shot at him. I managed to shoot him in the back just before he got back down in the hollow.

His beard was as thick as any I've ever seen, but the longest strand on it was barely 8 inches long, one spur was broken off and the other was an inch and a half long, but it was not sharp at all (I guess because he had spent most of his adult life in that pile of limestone rocks he called home). Funniest thing about him was he wouldn't have weighed 16 pounds soaking wet on his best day.

What made him come to me on that morning I have no idea I had sat against the exact same tree and tried to kill him more than one time before, I guess he just had a brain fart and I caught him on the right day........I'll never forget the look he had after he realized he had been tricked. I really and truly kinda felt sorry for him after I killed him.

Thanks for starting this thread it brings back alot of good memories of that bird and a bunch more old hard-headed ones that have whipped me over the years.

The Ghost.

I'll tell one more since Breeze and I discussed him a little in this thread. We were both in a club near Vance several years ago and there was this old bird that was giving everyone fits. Buckscent was in the club as well and we wound up naming him "The Ghost" because he always seemed to disappear into thin air.

There was a certain section of property that The Ghost called home. The main dirt road that ran through the property had a side road that ran maybe a 1/4 mile before it ended and had two green plots on it. There was a clearcut that butted up to the wood line where these two roads intersected. The Ghost liked to roost where he could see out over the clearcut but also see down the side road and one of the greenfields. He would gobble good on the roost but once he flew down, gobbling all but stopped and you could never course his direction. He never had a particular pattern. He might head down the side road, head to the clearcut, or walk the main road. Whatever he decided to so, he did it in complete silence.

Since he was roosting up near where the two roads intersected, I slipped in one morning under darkness and set out a hen decoy in the middle of the main road. I slipped off the road opposite of his roost area, found me a big pine tree and waited on daybreak. As soon as the first crow sounded he gobbled in a huge pine tree not 15 yds in front of me! The decoy in the road was literally under the tree he was roosted. I was already starting to think of deep fried turkey and driving him all over town to show him off. I bet he gobbled 50+ times on the roost, only problem was I could not see him in the tree. He was all but invisible. I gave one tree yelp and shut up. He answered and continued gobbling on his own for maybe 30 minutes before he shut up. I did not hear the first hen that morning, all was looking perfect. I had my gun on my knee, safety off, and was ready to shoot that joker in the face as soon as he pitched off the roost. I waited, and waited some more. I never heard him fly down. After about 20-30 minutes from his last gobble, he gobbled about 100 yards behind me on the adjoining property! I could not believe it. I stayed in my setup for another 15-20 minutes listening to him gobble as he slowly moved away trying to convince myself it was another turkey. But it wasn't. Finally, I conceded and got up. I walked the 15 yds to the tree he was roosted in looking to make sure he wasn't still up there. He wasn't. The only thing I could figure was when he pitched he sailed down opposite of me, with the tree hiding him, and then somehow got around me. My reasoning was confirmed when I walked down the dirt road about 75 yds from my setup and found gobbler tracks where he crossed and got behind me. The point he crossed was just out of my sight from where I was originally set up. I know because I marked it with a tall stick, then went back to my original set up and sat down to see if I could have seen him cross. I couldn't have.

I never got to work The Ghost again that year, but I did unsuspectingly walk him up one morning within 100 yds of the above encounter and I have to say he was one big, old SOB. I always hoped someone would kill him as he was a true trophy, but accordingly to Breeze the ensuing club members had no better luck with him.

You guys know how to tell a story!!!!!!!

or a good lie, whichever sounds better

You dont think that actually ever happens around here.