The Story of Limpy

Stories of your favorite gobbler hunts.
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jhogue
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Joined: September 13th, 2017, 4:08 pm
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The Story of Limpy

Post by jhogue » May 19th, 2018, 5:10 pm

Kansas was my final shot at getting a turkey this year after 21 days spent in Florida, Arkansas, and Oklahoma. Day one of the hunt I heard a gobble at 5:55 and made my way across the field to get close. I heard three more gobbles on my 350 yards trip. When I reached the edge of the woods, there was already one small turkey in the field. When I stopped to glass it, I heard a bird fly down and it landed 70 yards in front of me. This one was obviously a Jake and it made its way toward the other turkey. I heard another bird fly down but didn’t see it. I made some light calls with no response. I moved to my right to see if I could see the turkeys around the bend in the field. Sure enough, there were four of them, all about the same size. They made their way out of the field and I made a large loop to hopefully see them on the other side. As I approached the south field, I spotted a turkey as soon as it spotted me. It looked to be a Jake or a hen and it took off back to the north across the field. I then noticed three more turkeys moving along the timber to the north of me. I then quickly noticed that the middle bird had a significant limp, but seemed to keep up with the others. I needed up setting up in that field after soooking them to see if anything interesting would happen or if the would try to get back together. 10 minutes later, one of the jakes appeared in front of me. It’s been a rough season and I was willing to kill a Jake on this trip, but it was far too early in this trip to start that way. Nothing else materialized and I went elsewhere to hunt. A couple hours later I was walking past the field to the north and saw a turkey near where the birds had exited the field earlier. I noticed then that the bird was limping and was fairly certain it was the same jake. I carried on with my hunt and found nothing, so I went back to check the field. At first glance there was nothing. I walked along the timber line and all of a sudden the limping jake spooked out of the grass and hopped out of the field. I then affectionately named him Limpy and decided I would kill him given the chance. I figured it would be better if I got him than one of the many coyotes and bobcats in the area. That afternoon, I set up a blind in Limpy’s field. At 5:00 pm, a turkey appeared about 400 yards to my north. I attempted to call to it for a while with no response. After calling for a bit, I noticed a turkey down in the corner where Limpy had been a few times. At first it seemed like just another turkey, then I noticed the signature Limpy hop. The afternoon bore on and he stayed in about a 60 yard radius for about 2 hours. The turkey to the north turned out to be a hen. She worked her way slowly in Limpy’s direction for about 90 minutes before another hen flew into the field with her. Limpy watched the both nervously, but never seemed to move to them or really care that they were there. Ultimately they were all together for about 45 minutes, still in the same small corner of the field. They ultimately roosted within 50 yards of me, but Limpy never presented a shot opportunity. Another turkey met them from the south at the roost site, and was not impressed with my blind. When I finally left, I bumped them because I couldn’t leave without them seeing me. The next morning Dad and I picked different start points, mine south of Limpy’s field and Dad’s north. I heard no roost gobbles and dad heard a couple in a different direction. I hunted elsewhere for the morning. Dad set up a blind to hunt Limpy that afternoon is the same spot I did. Neither of us saw anything, and he left early to prevent bumping the birds if they came to roost. The next afternoon, dad went back to the blind. Limpy was in the field when Dad got there. Limpy left, but returned an hour later. Dad watched him stand around in the same are he had for hours, the way he had done the first night. The next morning Dad hunted Limpy on the roost. He flew at 6:05 at what Dad later realized was only 50 yards. Later in the morning Dad decided to attempt to stalk Limpy in his corner. He likely got within range, but wasn’t comfortable with the shot. The afternoon was similar to previous ones, with Limpy holding his ground. I killed a bird elsewhere and this morning brought a massive storm. I went with Dad to sit out the storm in the truck. The storm wasn’t clearing, so we returned to town form breakfast. We returned a couple hours later as the storm finally made its way north east of us. We drove by Limpy’s spot, and sure enough he was there. We drove a little more a locates a few more hens in various spots. One even had poults with her. We drove to Limpy’s area to let Dad out. I gave Dad my binoculars and was about to head a different direction when Dad suggested that I hunt Limpy. He felt that I could likely do better with a stalk if the hunt required it. I didn’t want to take the opportunity from Dad, but he seemed to really want me to go after Limpy. I crept to the blind and located Limpy in his corner. I ranged him and made a quick plan for my approach. I entered the wood line and realized the creek was now low enough to move through. I used it for cover and moved 100 yards quickly, which was roughly how far Limpy was from the blind. I slowly made my way out of the creek and looked for Limpy. I worked my way almost to the over grown field edge when he finally presented himself. He saw me when I saw him. He made a hopping attempt to leave, but didn’t make it far. I shot Limpy at 25 yards. I checked him out and initially couldn’t find the source of his limping. Dad heard the shot and met me as I was carrying Limpy toward the blind. We later realized a huge problem with his right foot. It was mangled, swollen about 3 times normal size in the middle, and the middle toe was locked in a downward position. I was fine with tagging out on Limpy, because we had history with him and it looked very unlikely that he would make it to next season. I know it was a long post, it hope you enjoyed it if you read it all.
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Tail Feathers
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Joined: December 2nd, 2014, 9:27 pm
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Re: The Story of Limpy

Post by Tail Feathers » May 19th, 2018, 7:42 pm

Congrats on the bird. Sounds like he was a bright spot of your season.

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hoobilly
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Re: The Story of Limpy

Post by hoobilly » May 19th, 2018, 8:02 pm

jhogue wrote:Kansas was my final shot at getting a turkey this year after 21 days spent in Florida, Arkansas, and Oklahoma. Day one of the hunt I heard a gobble at 5:55 and made my way across the field to get close. I heard three more gobbles on my 350 yards trip. When I reached the edge of the woods, there was already one small turkey in the field. When I stopped to glass it, I heard a bird fly down and it landed 70 yards in front of me. This one was obviously a Jake and it made its way toward the other turkey. I heard another bird fly down but didn’t see it. I made some light calls with no response. I moved to my right to see if I could see the turkeys around the bend in the field. Sure enough, there were four of them, all about the same size. They made their way out of the field and I made a large loop to hopefully see them on the other side. As I approached the south field, I spotted a turkey as soon as it spotted me. It looked to be a Jake or a hen and it took off back to the north across the field. I then noticed three more turkeys moving along the timber to the north of me. I then quickly noticed that the middle bird had a significant limp, but seemed to keep up with the others. I needed up setting up in that field after soooking them to see if anything interesting would happen or if the would try to get back together. 10 minutes later, one of the jakes appeared in front of me. It’s been a rough season and I was willing to kill a Jake on this trip, but it was far too early in this trip to start that way. Nothing else materialized and I went elsewhere to hunt. A couple hours later I was walking past the field to the north and saw a turkey near where the birds had exited the field earlier. I noticed then that the bird was limping and was fairly certain it was the same jake. I carried on with my hunt and found nothing, so I went back to check the field. At first glance there was nothing. I walked along the timber line and all of a sudden the limping jake spooked out of the grass and hopped out of the field. I then affectionately named him Limpy and decided I would kill him given the chance. I figured it would be better if I got him than one of the many coyotes and bobcats in the area. That afternoon, I set up a blind in Limpy’s field. At 5:00 pm, a turkey appeared about 400 yards to my north. I attempted to call to it for a while with no response. After calling for a bit, I noticed a turkey down in the corner where Limpy had been a few times. At first it seemed like just another turkey, then I noticed the signature Limpy hop. The afternoon bore on and he stayed in about a 60 yard radius for about 2 hours. The turkey to the north turned out to be a hen. She worked her way slowly in Limpy’s direction for about 90 minutes before another hen flew into the field with her. Limpy watched the both nervously, but never seemed to move to them or really care that they were there. Ultimately they were all together for about 45 minutes, still in the same small corner of the field. They ultimately roosted within 50 yards of me, but Limpy never presented a shot opportunity. Another turkey met them from the south at the roost site, and was not impressed with my blind. When I finally left, I bumped them because I couldn’t leave without them seeing me. The next morning Dad and I picked different start points, mine south of Limpy’s field and Dad’s north. I heard no roost gobbles and dad heard a couple in a different direction. I hunted elsewhere for the morning. Dad set up a blind to hunt Limpy that afternoon is the same spot I did. Neither of us saw anything, and he left early to prevent bumping the birds if they came to roost. The next afternoon, dad went back to the blind. Limpy was in the field when Dad got there. Limpy left, but returned an hour later. Dad watched him stand around in the same are he had for hours, the way he had done the first night. The next morning Dad hunted Limpy on the roost. He flew at 6:05 at what Dad later realized was only 50 yards. Later in the morning Dad decided to attempt to stalk Limpy in his corner. He likely got within range, but wasn’t comfortable with the shot. The afternoon was similar to previous ones, with Limpy holding his ground. I killed a bird elsewhere and this morning brought a massive storm. I went with Dad to sit out the storm in the truck. The storm wasn’t clearing, so we returned to town form breakfast. We returned a couple hours later as the storm finally made its way north east of us. We drove by Limpy’s spot, and sure enough he was there. We drove a little more a locates a few more hens in various spots. One even had poults with her. We drove to Limpy’s area to let Dad out. I gave Dad my binoculars and was about to head a different direction when Dad suggested that I hunt Limpy. He felt that I could likely do better with a stalk if the hunt required it. I didn’t want to take the opportunity from Dad, but he seemed to really want me to go after Limpy. I crept to the blind and located Limpy in his corner. I ranged him and made a quick plan for my approach. I entered the wood line and realized the creek was now low enough to move through. I used it for cover and moved 100 yards quickly, which was roughly how far Limpy was from the blind. I slowly made my way out of the creek and looked for Limpy. I worked my way almost to the over grown field edge when he finally presented himself. He saw me when I saw him. He made a hopping attempt to leave, but didn’t make it far. I shot Limpy at 25 yards. I checked him out and initially couldn’t find the source of his limping. Dad heard the shot and met me as I was carrying Limpy toward the blind. We later realized a huge problem with his right foot. It was mangled, swollen about 3 times normal size in the middle, and the middle toe was locked in a downward position. I was fine with tagging out on Limpy, because we had history with him and it looked very unlikely that he would make it to next season. I know it was a long post, it hope you enjoyed it if you read it all.
Glad you got him and saved him some suffering.


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MAK
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Re: The Story of Limpy

Post by MAK » May 19th, 2018, 8:12 pm

Good story glad you connected
MAK

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ncturkey
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Re: The Story of Limpy

Post by ncturkey » May 23rd, 2018, 11:42 am

Great story
Mike

southpaw
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Re: The Story of Limpy

Post by southpaw » May 23rd, 2018, 11:10 pm

Congrats, only thing that would have made it better would have been if your Dad had shot him. Most of the best hunts I have had have were with my Dad, most were not successful. Tho a couple were. I could tell the stories but you are going to need a six pack. And that might get us past the first hunt, maybe.

Again, congrats on your successful hunt. Even better that you got to enjoy it with your Dad. Take it from someone whose hunting days with their Dad were much shorter than they thought, kick him in the back side, smack him a couple times, heck, curse a little when trying to get him up at 0400. When the bleeding stops you should be able to crawl out it the woods next to the tree he is at. LOL.

One day I woke my Dad at 0430 to go hunt them swamp chickens. In a very polite way he told me he would "catch up with me later". I took that to mean -leave me sleep you little prick-. Ah, but I sat within 75 yards of a bird. By 0710 I was having a beer and waking him up. On the plus side my Dad was bringing more out just to be on the safe side.

Jerry Jr.

2Shooter
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Re: The Story of Limpy

Post by 2Shooter » May 24th, 2018, 7:50 am

Dang at first before I read the story I thought you wrote a story about Brice!!! :LMAO: Great story!!!!!

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Hognutz
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Re: The Story of Limpy

Post by Hognutz » May 24th, 2018, 8:03 am

Nice read. Congrats on a great hunt!
May I assume you're not here to inquire about the alcohol or the tobacco?
I am the man from Nantucket.
When attacked by a group of clowns...Go for the Juggler!!

jhogue
Posts: 150
Joined: September 13th, 2017, 4:08 pm
Location: Van Buren, Arkansas

Re: The Story of Limpy

Post by jhogue » May 24th, 2018, 8:20 am

I try to go hunting with Dad as much as I can. We don’t generally hunt directly together, but ride in the same vehicle to the woods, either his or mine. Dad took me turkey hunting some when I was a kid, but we started showing calves in the spring and it took away my opportunity to turkey hunt the weekends with him. Dad did call in my first turkey when I was 10, but I didn’t become a turkey hunter until 2011. A buddy got me into it at that point and then I started hunting with Dad again. This hunt was a great week. We also spent a week in March in Florida. I hope to one day have an opportunity to get a double with Dad or to call a bird up for him. At the end of this hunt, after I was tagged out, I tried to call in some birds we located in a field for him. It ultimately didn’t work out and weather killed the rest of the hunt. In the next few years we will have opportunities to hunt together more as we get my kids into hunting. I’m actually moving right across the road from Dad this summer, we we will have much more time together.

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OLE RASPY
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Re: The Story of Limpy

Post by OLE RASPY » May 24th, 2018, 7:10 pm

southpaw wrote:
May 23rd, 2018, 11:10 pm
Congrats, only thing that would have made it better would have been if your Dad had shot him. Most of the best hunts I have had have were with my Dad, most were not successful. Tho a couple were. I could tell the stories but you are going to need a six pack. And that might get us past the first hunt, maybe.

Again, congrats on your successful hunt. Even better that you got to enjoy it with your Dad. Take it from someone whose hunting days with their Dad were much shorter than they thought, kick him in the back side, smack him a couple times, heck, curse a little when trying to get him up at 0400. When the bleeding stops you should be able to crawl out it the woods next to the tree he is at. LOL.

One day I woke my Dad at 0430 to go hunt them swamp chickens. In a very polite way he told me he would "catch up with me later". I took that to mean -leave me sleep you little prick-. Ah, but I sat within 75 yards of a bird. By 0710 I was having a beer and waking him up. On the plus side my Dad was bringing more out just to be on the safe side.

Jerry Jr.
Not to get this thread side tracked. Idk where you got your board name at but I drank a lot of south paw in my younger years. Can’t get it anymore. 😩 anyway carry on.
TURKEYS
COYOTES
DEER
SQUIRRELS
(all in this order)

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OLE RASPY
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Re: The Story of Limpy

Post by OLE RASPY » May 24th, 2018, 7:11 pm

Congrats on your bird. Good write up. 👍🏻
TURKEYS
COYOTES
DEER
SQUIRRELS
(all in this order)

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