Even though I was unable to hunt the last day or two of the season, we did get in a hunt last weekend. Unfortunately, the property has been flooded with all of the crazy rain we've had, so the creek was really high, and most of our great turkey spots were under water. We had a few more options, though. Setting up in a little natural blind of vines around a medium-sized tree, Dad, John, and I got ready to shoot a gobbler. From the second we got in the woods, we heard at least 3 birds talking up a storm. I'm not exaggerating when I say 2-3 minutes barely went by before we heard one of them, if not two at the same time. As it turns out, those birds were on the other side of the creek, and pretty deep in the swamp (or on the other side of it). Only one was within 100 yards of us, but we couldn't get to where he was from where we were. After about 30 minutes, their gobbles got farther away, and we knew that our blind wouldn't produce a turkey.
Last donut of the season... Sometimes it's good to treat yourself. :)
Until next year, Mr. Turkey(s), I'll be practicing my crossbow skills. Until next year.
*UPDATE: Dad - 1
So... I just got off the phone with my dad. Who hunted this morning. The last day of the season. And did essentially the exact same thing we did last weekend, except started his hunt further into the swamp because the flooding had gone down a bit. For the first hour, there wasn't a bird to be heard. He went into the woods a little deeper, hit the call once, and heard (we assume) those same birds gobble in just about the same spot. Why they decided to talk then, I'll never know. But they heard his call, and came straight to him. One stayed about 100 yards away, while the other appeared at 60 yards, fanning off and on the whole time he edged closer to where my dad had set up. That bird knew where the sound had come from, and zeroed in on where my dad was sitting, but continued to come forward because he didn't see the "hen" he was looking for. Needless to say, my dad lowered the boom. BOOM. Success.