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Old 08-18-2020, 12:46 PM   #1
wade44
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Join Date: Aug 2020
Location: NE NC
Posts: 26
Default Osceola (long read)

Rick Hebel is the man. He started sending me trail-cam pictures on Thanksgiving Day and continued until the day I left to come hunt. Rick also sent Google Earth maps of the hunting area so I could get familiar with the hunting spot. 1 of the pics had 5 or 6 gobblers not far from the blind I’d be sitting in. We talked on the phone several times and became friends. At 3:15 am on 3-20-20 I climbed in “The Bullet” and turned south headed for Okeechobee. The coronavirus pandemic was in full swing but I had me a plan. Pay at the pump and pee in a bottle. There were 2 sausage, egg and cheese sandwiches wrapped in aluminum foil, some coffee and bottles of water riding on the passenger seat. I also had 2 bags of CRAP. After stopping for a short nap I arrived at the camp house around 4 in the afternoon. Rick and I shook hands then he grabbed my bags and showed me my room. After I was mostly settled in we headed to the hunt area, Rick wanted to show me the way to the blind in the daylight. Back at the camp house, we had T-bone steaks, baked potatoes, salad and bread. My belly was full and I was tired but I didn’t sleep much that night. Part excitement, part worry about a repeat performance of the last trip to Florida kept me awake. I was lying there reminding myself that Rick was different, the area was different and the year was different when Rick’s alarm sounded. It didn’t take me long to don my camo pants and shirt and I was ready. At the parking spot, Rick asked 1 last time if I was sure I could find the blind in the dark. I assured him that making it to the blind wasn’t a problem. What I didn’t tell him was that I wasn’t sure about all those beef cattle in the pasture I had to walk through, in the dark.
As it turned out the cattle weren’t in that part of the pasture that morning and the hunter made it to the blind without incident. The wind was calm and there was some fog. The 2 hen and 1 Jake decoys were right there in the blind just like Rick had said, as was the turkey lounger seat. In the dark, I got disoriented after putting out the decoys and had trouble finding the blind although it was just 20 yards from the decoys. Just like someone lost in the wilderness, I panicked. It was a Patrick McManus “modified stationary panic” but a panic nonetheless. After taking a few deep breaths and reminding myself that I had plenty of time before daylight, I calmed down. The blind was just 8 feet further left than I was looking, I mumbled negative things about myself and sat down in the turkey lounger. In no time the first of many gobbles rang out. The tom was right in the edge of the food plot exactly where my guide had said he would be. Before long there were a total of 6 birds gobbling all around me. Sometimes the gobbles all strung together sounded like 1 long gobble that lasted for over a minute. That’s what I call chain reaction gobbling.
At first light, a jake and a hen came through the opening from the food plot and the jake preceded to whoop up on the jake decoy. The hen went on off to my right but the jake kept at it, he was pecking the decoy’s head and jumping up trying to kick and spur the fake. Before long 2 more jakes came from the food plot and as soon as they saw what was going on, started clucking and purring and ran to help show the interloper who was boss. They finally succeeded in breaking the fiberglass stake the decoy was sitting on, now with the decoy on the ground, they took turns trying to breed it. Then all of a sudden the 3 musketeers froze in their tracks with their heads up and started to putt. They continued to putt and walked back into the food plot. I knew something was coming just not what it might be. Another hunter? A Game Warden? Coyote? Or maybe, just maybe, the boss gobbler. I caught movement to my right and slowly turned my head, 2 male turkeys were angling out across the pasture. Judging from the size of the birds and the way their heads changed colors from red to white, to blue I was pretty sure they were longbeards, but I couldn’t see their beards. When they were a little past straight in front they just disappeared. For the next 15 or so minutes I saw nothing and heard nothing. Earlier a tom had answered my calls on an Eddie Wynne glass call and a hen had gotten fired up at my yelps and cuts on a Primos piggyback diaphragm, but now all was silent. The hunter was about to get discouraged.
About then a big ole turkey sailed to a landing out front in the area where the 2 had disappeared 20 or 30 minutes before. I didn’t know where he had come from but was glad to have some action. My Steiner compact binoculars revealed 3 big male wild turkeys about 300 yards away almost to the tree line. The birds ignored my cuts and yelps on the mouth call. It was time to break out the big gun. I unholstered my homemade box call and sent some aggressive yelps and cuts downrange. They were interested so I made some more loud yelps, threw in some cuts and added a few softer yelps on the end. The turkeys again were gone. Looking again through the binos I saw 2 birds making a beeline towards me, the other was headed to my right and away. Thinking these were both longbeards I wiggled around behind a live oak and readied my 935. Before long I could see 2 beards both about 9 inches long, one bird's beard was just a little thicker than the other’s. That was the tom I’d been waiting for, for a long time. He confirmed his dominant status by strutting when they reached the decoys, the jake decoy was still laying there on the ground. As soon as there was enough separation that I wouldn’t kill both with 1 shot, I pulled the trigger and my slam was complete. 3.5” LongBeard XR #5s are very effective at 18 steps. I thanked the Good Lord for creating these wonderful birds and allowing me to hunt them.
The first thing I noticed was his spurs. They were long and curved. Hooks, I think they call them. “I bet I’ve killed my first limb hanger.” Sure enough, the live oak had a limb parallel to the ground and my Osceola would easily hang there by his spurs. I texted Rick a picture and he came with the pickup. Carl, Ricks other hunter had killed a nice tom almost 2 hours earlier and they both congratulated me. Carl was 81 years old and still turkey hunting. I had taken some pictures and Rick took some more of me and my bird. I told them I was the happiest man in Florida. The sun was heating up and I was glad to have Ricks pickup truck there to ride in, but I was happy enough that I could have walked all the way back to North Carolina on cloud 9.
Back at the camp house, I told Rick that I’d never drunk whiskey before lunchtime but I’d never killed an Osceola or completed a grand slam before either so he got me a glass and some ice and I drank some of the single barrel Wild Turkey my daughter Reba and her boyfriend Michael had given me for Christmas, while we cleaned the birds. With the turkeys chilling out in the refrigerator Rick and I headed into town for breakfast. The Landing Strip Cafe’ is at the Okeechobee County Airport. The food was wonderful but with the virus running amuck we had to get takeout and eat it at Rick’s office. In addition to being an excellent turkey guide, he is the bookkeeper, for Larson Dairies and the office is in downtown Okeechobee.

There are escapees from a nearby game farm on the dairy property. I’m talking about ring-necked pheasants. Carl shot 2 out of the window of Rick’s pickup with 1 shot. I know that’s not very sporting but I hope I’m able to do something similar when I’m his age. Killing our turkeys on the first morning of the hunt gave us time to mess around. I got the idea that I would like to kill a pheasant with the Smith and Wesson 629 I had brought. I finally got my chance around lunchtime on the second day. The bird was in the backyard of the camp house and I carefully planned my stalk, using bushes for cover I closed the distance to about 20 yards. He was right out in the open but the closer I got the more he hunkered down. Not wanting to ruin the meat the plan was a headshot. By the time I drew the revolver he was almost laying down in little depression, not giving me much of a shot. At the shot, he took to the air unharmed. The 240-grain cast bullet had hit the dirt just under his ringed neck. Back at the cabin, Rick had been watching from the window and he said “you missed him.” My reply was “I know but I had fun shooting at him.” He said, “that’s what it’s all about.”
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