This time of year is always so exciting for me. There is nothing on this earth that rattles me quite like a big gobbler coming into my call. This season proved to be no different then any other. 

  Last year Mellon Creek Outfitters enjoyed the best hatch and survival rate of any year in the past. It wasn’t uncommon for the guides to meet back at the lodge for lunch and compare numbers. After a few minutes talking we would realize that between the four of us we had seen well over seventy-five jakes. This happened so often that it became a daily joke. There are literally flocks with 20 to 40 jakes running everywhere. Although this is going to make next season on those beyond something very special it proved to make hunting this season a challenge at times. These “Super Jakes” as Walter Parrot called them were beating up on the old toms and keeping them quiet. After about three days of hunting early in the season we figured out that if we wanted to the long beards we were going to have to hunt at least a half a mile away from these jakes. We learned to not bother with trying to get a shock gobble because the old birds were silent. We just to rely on faith in knowing that these birds were around and would still come in. We were one bird shy of 100% success this year and I am certain that we could have been 100% successful if it were not for a choice made by my client and me.

   Pete D’Amour, from Indianapolis, In came down for a turkey hunt. When one books a turkey hunt with Mellon Creek they are allowed two birds; it was Pete’s second bird that caused our 100% success rate to fall short by one bird. On the day prior to Pete’s arrival I went out scouting and roosted a bird about four miles southeast of the lodge. Early that morning after breakfast we headed to down to the area that I had roosted the bird. Before we even got our vests on the bird was hammering away in his roost. Pete and I crept in close as quietly as possible and set up. This bird was going crazy with gobbles. He was gobbling at song birds, airplanes, my tree calls, and who knows what else. I don’t think it would be a stretch to say that he gobbled fifty or more times. About 6:50 I heard him fly down and the waiting game started. It wasn’t long before I saw a brilliant blue and red head moving down the pipeline in our direction. He gobbled again and went into full strut. Closer and closer he inched in our direction going in and out of strut. I could hear him drumming and by now my heart was in my throat. The big bird turned toward us and slowly closed the last thirty yards. Once in tight he got a little nervous; and we watched his snood retract back tight on his beak while turning to walk away. Pete is a great turkey hunter and I didn’t have to tell him that it was time to dance. I putted on my mouth call and the old birds head stuck up tall as he walked away. Pete took his shot and the morning hunt was over at exactly 7:05.He was a  great bird, and what an awesome display coming in strutting and drumming. The colors in these Rios are simply amazing and this one was no different, green, pink, copper, gold, and silver iridescents shinned off of his every feather. Even better I captured the entire hunt on video which I edited and sent to Pete. 

 After we took pictures I made a comment on the video camera explaining Petes hunt and that we were going to get the second one. The “second one” proved to be quite the challenge with the bird winning in the end. The second morning of Pete’s hunt we set up near a roost in the center of the ranch. At daylight we literally had birds tree calling twenty yards behind us.  We had hens above us; and at least 10 gobblers within hearing of us. As daylight unfolded we saw jakes behind us, two hens, and heard a great battle in the brush. We could have easily sealed the deal on a two year old bird 25 yards in front of us but decided we wanted a bigger bird. About the time we let the two year old gobbler pass Chaise text me that he was watching a big tom strutting near a set of cattle pens about five miles away. Pete and I decided that we would go after the strutter. A short drive later we were set up within a hundred yards of the bird and I was doing my best to make him come in. I would call and he would gobble but he would never close the distance. When this happens I usually just shut up and nine out of ten times this will do the trick……….Not today or subsequently any day after. We watched as he walked out of sight gobbling ever hundred yards. That afternoon we tried at him again and never saw or heard anything from him. We did manage to call in twelve jakes to 20 yards and watched as they srutted, gobbled, and beat up on my decoys. At dinner that night Pete and I agreed that we would hunt this bird. As it turned out Pete is a lot like me in that he loves a challenge, so without knowing that it would be that big of a challenge we decided to hunt this bird until we got him. Well before daylight we were set up in the area where he had been strutting the morning before. As twilight brightened the eastern horizon we could hear the dozen or more jakes gobbling every breath. There was one gobble coming from their left about two hundred yards from them and four hundred from us. This bird never stopped gobbling so we pretty much knew he was a mature bird. After waiting him out for over an hour I told Pete lets move and get closer. We walked through a set of cow pens crossed a fence and set up near a water trough. To our left was a wall of whisatche brush that light wouldn’t hardly penetrate, to our right was a brush covered fenceline, and in front was a wide open area. The bird was in front of us and a little to the left hidden by the whisatche thicket. Common sense, mixed with experience told me that the bird would approach straight in front of us. He was on a fence row and might not want to cross it and he certainly would come through the thorn infested thicket to our left. I called and he gobbled, his second gobble was even closer. Pete and I looked at each other as if we were already congratulating ourselves on a job well done. The bird went silent and all of a sudden we heard him drumming. Wait a minute, he’s not in front of us, that drumming is coming from our right. Surely he didn’t just walk through a place that thick. We looked to our left and there was half his tail fan in full strut behind a bush. 22 yards away with one single piece of cover between us and him. What do we do now, if he walks out Pete can’t take the shot because I’m in the way. I was so certain he wouldn’t come from that direction I sat down directly to Pete’s left. He walked out, strutted, and walked back in the thicket. I started to make a fighting hen sound on my slate call and the bird turned around and came back. Pete about a one second opportunity but again he elected to not shoot for fear of hurting me. The bird moved off and hung up so we closed the distance. We did this until almost noon and he never came into range again.  Of course, by now, it had become personal so we went back that evening. We called in three jakes that walked within 10 feet of Pete. Had a great evening but we never saw the old bird. We waited until dark and listened for him to try and roost him. We heard birds fly up and planned our attack for the following morning. After much discussion we decided to set up near his strut zone about a hundred yards down the fence row. I made a tree call and heard nothing. I waited a good twenty minutes and made a louder series of yelps and heard a gobble somewhere way to our left. I thought to myself that must be a different bird. A short while later the gobbles become more frequent and started in our direction. Again at around 150 yards out the old boy hung up again. He really isn’t into chasing women, they come to him so he held his ground. We moved into the thicket near him and he didn’t budge. When he went in the brush we walked right to where he was and tried calling again. He was within 20 yards of Pete at one time but behind very thick brush. He flanked the brush edge and walked into his strut zone. I started walking away calling while Pete stayed put waiting for a shot opportunity. The shot opportunity never came as we ran out of time in order for Pete to make his flight home. This bird caused our 100% success rate to dwindle but we had an incredible time. I took my wife after the old boy this morning and he tricked me again. Sometimes it isn’t about the kill, but it is always about the game. 

  I had another client from NJ this year that enjoyed a very short but great hunt. We went to where I knew a bird was hanging out about 4:00PM and set up. I hadn’t called fifteen minutes when we saw the bird coming in at full strut to our left. He walked into 18 yards; I made a little putt on my call and my client sealed the deal.  

  I had other clients and so did Jimmy and Shelby. Everyone was successful and made new friends along the way. A big tom strutting his way into range is something that never gets old. There is still plenty of season left open in Texas and I have two more tags. I just can’t get enough. 

 Spring time at Mellon Creek has long been my favorite. Deep greens, wild flowers, and gobblers. Oh yea ! Did I mention the chance to hunt with some great people? This year proves no different. I would like to thank all of  M.C.O.s clients for the great memories. Spring Turkey season at Mellon Creek! It truly doesn't get better than this.