Short Story of Hunt:

"Tommy Slick No Guns"

This ageless bird must have become the cock of the walk once the bosses had taken the stairway to heaven, for surely he'd never been boss enough to whup another gobbler.

Funny name is Tommy Slick No Guns, but he got that handle due to being slick legged. My first gobbler I've taken without spurs. You could see where they should have came in but he definitely was never gonna have any.

Fairly quick hunt, unlike most; saw, went and conquered is the story line. Using woodsmanship and the lay of the land, I was able to get within 35 yards of him, unbeknownst to me. I was so close that he surprised me when, after him hearing me "feed" in the leaves, he strutted and fanned right in front of me. Brush prevented a shot at that time, so I remained motionless. He did his stuff for a bit and then went out of sight.

Quietly as possible, I found a sorry setup, but best available, got my knife out and cut away some brush and called softly. Feeding clucks on a MadHatter Calls 3-Track player with "The Lucky Lady" peg, given to me by my good friend Dave Constantine, along with some soft yelps from a Pine Box made and given as a gift from another buddro of the tenth, Jerry "Dad" White of Dad's Custom Box Calls, sent sweet music to the ears of this beautiful struttin' tom.

A gobble let me know he was interested and continued soft talk was returned with the magnificent drum of the wild turkey. Love that stuff. I let things get real quiet for a while. After an hour of no calling and no sounds from my quarry, I tired of the sorry setup.

I chanced a creep, more like a crawl, up the wood line to a small knoll just 10 yards away. I hoped to glimpse him feeding in the field or give it up if he was gone. Lady Luck had kept him interested I suppose for he was still out there.

Leaf scratchin' and a few beats of a wing got his attention again and he slowly and warily came my way. 'Twas a good setup this time, with a little cover in and around me, I was invisible 100 percent. Mossy Oak camo glasses hid my beggin' eyes and ol' No Gun's never saw it coming when I yelped on a Steve Kinder diaphragm to stretch his neck high and mighty.

Fortune from the Good Lord above, good friends like Dave and Dad, and a rare invite from a cuz-n-law to hunt his place near Op-U-Lik-it allowed this fine pretty boy die fine at 35 yards from my gun. 18.6 lbs and 9 inch rope. Hope-U-Lik-It cuz I did!