We were setup for 4:50 am, waiting for the 'berry to strike 5:09 am, legal shooting time. The clock struck, the calls clucked and we waited. My buddy had a big Tom doin his 'thing in the field opposite to to the one he was hunting Friday morning, so we opted to try this spot first. We made a few more calls over the next 40 mins and never got a response, well at least not that we could hear with the 30 KM winds ripping. We picked up the lone hen decoy and moved around to the opposite end of the opposite field and played the game for 40 minutes, again with no responses.
We made the hike back to the truck and after a short tour across the country we were at a new field where my buddy had scouted 2 hens on Thursday evening. We were setup for 20 minutes or so, discussing how neither of us have had any luck, and very few sightings on cold mornings with high winds and no sun. Just as my "guide" was finishing a fierce set of calls I caught a glimpse of movement about 120 yards across the field, and about 70 yards to the south of our setup. My buddy offered the bird to me, as it was my first time out this year, and he had already bagged a 21 lb, 10".
I could tell it was a good bird, even at 120 yards. We adjusted ourselves to remain motionless as the hunt was on. My buddy was working "The Freak" and the first calls he made once the tom was visible sent him running full speed right for us. As he got closer and dropped behind a knoll in the field, I adjusted my position again as it seemed he was not going to come directly into the Hen. As he approached 50 yards he began to strut and gobble. He was talking back and fourth with "The Freak" yet he continued to head for the bushline we were sitting in, but still about 50 yards south of us. I could not swing the Benelli anymore to the south due to the way I was positioned. We were worried he was going to head into the bush and try to circle back out where we were. As my buddy let out a sweet cadence of purrs the Tom did a short strut, a quick gobble and then b-lined it right up the tree line. By the time he was into my "strike zone" he was about 18 yards outs. As he became visible down the barrel I pulled the trigger and the hunt was over (7:20am).
I thanked my buddy for the bird and the sweet calling, he snapped some pics and we went home to slam a pint before heading our separate ways for mothers day activities.
I later determined the beard to be 10.25", with a weight of 22lbs.
