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Another Turkey knife thread

How Cool,,, conversations about shotguns.

All of those are good!! Isn't it the Ithaca 37 that ejects out the bottom? I had a bottom ejector for a couple of weeks n a trade, but never got to shoot it. Honestly don't remember the model.

The one commonality is that those are all pumps, I believe.

I came back out of the service in late 67 and for Dads birthday in Jan of 68, we took him out to buy him a new shotgun. He quickly decided on a Wingmaster 870. hit a few sporting goods places but he wouldn't let us spend no $140 bucks on one.

Stopped in a K-Mart on the way, for something else, and they had a sale on those 870's........$66.00
yeah....Sixty and Six whole bucks. He was real happy.

Got home the next afternoon and asked wifey why Dads shotgun was laying on the stereo cabinet. she had gone and got me one. :D :D What a sweetheart. We still have both of them. I will inherit Dads and will keep them together.

Joe, That caller box in the pic looks like the one I use! But I still dont know about that little 475...lol..... Which btw, you said you were going to post a pic of that stag rehandle... :thumbup:
I have been fondeling one for a few days here on the desk. I may just have to try it out come November.

Cool pics,,,cool thread guys!!!!
 
Yes, the 37 is a bottom ejector- the only other one I've used of that type is the Browning BPS but it was too heavy. I'm curious about one called what was it? A Winchester Model 12 ...?... never heard of it... must have been a poor substitute for the 37 (lol). :D :D :D

The Mini Mentor is a lot of blade in a small light package. I believe the Caping Knife is the current variation (has a gut hook) so I may "need" one soon. Regards, ss.
 
I have to admit that the 870 is the only 12 gauge I have, and the only one I ever used so I really don't have anything to compare it to. It just works for me. I sent the story below to one of my buddies, I can't tell a short story so that is why I did not post it here before but for those who have some time to kill...:rolleyes:
4:45am I find some trees with at least 4 gobblers making a lot of noise. I am too close to do anything but sit down and wait for them to fly down. They finally do and they shut up when they hit the dirt. They walk by, skirting me by about 60 yards and out of site. I rarely called to them and they gobbled back but were going away, back in the direction I came from that morning. I decided the only way to get one this late in the season is to get in front of them so I hoof it trying to cut them off. I think they heard or saw me because I never heard from them again. I did, however, hear 2 other birds about 1/4 mile away as the crow flies, but about 1 mile away as the Joe hikes. I call to them across the ravine, which is VERY deep, lots of brush, and steep. After 20 minutes I know there aint no way they are coming all the way across to me and the only chance I had at them would be to go where they are. It would take a half hour to get there and it would be my last hurray. No way I would have any energy left to try another spot if this stalk did not work out. It was not going to be an easy hike. Its 6am.

I call every now and then as I hike in their direction and eventually, they stopped gobbling. I had a bad feeling about this. Its about 6:30 when I make it to the huge knoll that I last saw them on. I hit a big clearing and start calling. Still nothing. I walk 100 yards and call, nothing. Finally, I saw the edge of the clearing, where the trees started up again. The birds were here, when I was on the other side of the ravine, but now they don’t seem to be. I am about to find a tree and have some Gatorade when I hit the call one more time. I hear 2 gobbles, about 100 yards away, at the edge of the clearing!!

I figure it was just a shock gobble and that they saw me. I am totally out in the open, no cover whatsoever, and oh yeah, all I had was a camo ball cap on my head, I forgot my head net! All I could do was slowly sit down. I waited a while and hit the call again, they gobbled. The next time I called, I made it VERY faint and they still gobbled. They started coming in but very slowly. I saw what I thought would be my only chance of actually raising my gun and getting a shot if they came straight in. There was a deadfall about 40 yards in front of me. As soon as the bird was close to it I would raise the old 870 and when he steps out, Wham!!

After about 30 minutes I finally saw him, a big old bird! All puffed up and taking his time. Unknown to me, the other bird was flanking me all this time. He gave away his position with a gobble and he was in the clear at 30 yards. I could not turn my head much and see if he had a long beard or not so I concentrated on the first bird, still at about 45 yards but obscured by the deadfall. I thought I would let the second bird just walk by while I waited on the first bird. Then I noticed the second bird was walking straight to me! Now at about 15 to 20 yards in grass about 10 inches high. I came to my senses, swung my gun on him and laid him out! He turned out to be a small bodied tom with a 9 plus inch beard. It was 7am.
Most of my 18 birds have come in gobbling, puffed, spitting and drumming. But about half of them came in before I was ready. I would have my gun on my lap and a tom at 20 yards staring at me. I actually got pretty good at snatching that 870 off my lap and shooting the turkey. :D
I will get my 475 in for a photo tomorrow.
Loved the stories!!! Keep them coming. :) Great picture Guyon! I could not get stump's to load up. :( :confused:
 
I like the 870 myself. Its just a good old workhorse of a gun. I also like taking out my refinished single shot 12ga that was my dads for squirrels.
 
Stump, thats a nice bird! I never see spurs like that out here. Good job! :D

Here is my trusty 475 in stag, along with the empty duplex magnum that turned my bad aiming into Thanksgiving dinner.
 
Joe Houser said:
Stump, thats a nice bird! I never see spurs like that out here.
Click to expand...

That's the kind of bird I'd like to tag. In six years of hunting, I've bagged six birds, including a couple of toms with multiple beards. But I've never gotten an older bird with 1" or better spurs. Maybe next year...
 
Nice bird Joe! Here is the story of my successful hunt this year copied and pasted from a hunting forum I frequent. This was a tough year around these parts with little gobbling and funky weather. On topic knife content, the bird was dissescted with my Buck 110 Custom Shop BG-42 Nickle Bolsters and Elk Antler scales. Here's the hunting story...

Finally..., finally the luck changed. I've had a rather rough turkey hunt this year with less gobbling activity this year than I think I can ever remember. The forecast for today is sunny, little wind, and warming into the low 80's. Last night I planned my hunt in the Mark Twain National Forest with this in mind. There is a certain long hollow here that is unusual for the Ozark's in that the floor of this bottom is very wide and flat. Most of the hollows here tend to be sort of narrow and V shaped with little area on the floor of the bottom before it ramps upward to another ridgetop. This particular hollow twist for about two miles around between two main ridges, and has thin, scattered timber in it, little understory brush, and a beautiful crystal clear creek that flows down the center. I figured it to be a cool, shady place with good water, and lots of strutting room when the sun got up. From past experience I know turkeys frequent the area often. This hollow is very secluded and not easily accessed. I found it while poring over topo maps one evening years ago and have hunted it off and on since.

I was hiking my way into the hollow well before daylight. There was a big moon last night and clear skies. As I wound down a spur ridge that would lead me into the bottom I heard a gobbler sound off from his roost. Sounded like he was ahead, and across the hollow, from my present position. I kicked up the pace and slipped down the spur ridge and dropped off into the hollow. The Tom was gobbling just enough for me to get a good fix on his roost. I slipped within about 200 yards of his roost and set-up. My problem was that he was roosted on the opposite ridge and about 1/3 the way down from the top. There was a steep bluff that prevented me from getting on his side and up on his level. I figured he would naturally want to fly down on the uphill side of his roost which would place him on the opposite ridgetop with no real way for me to get to him. It would be natural for him to strut on the opposite long mainline ridge at first light. That would put me out of the game if he did so. At least for awhile. My plan was to give him some soft tree talk and get his head looking down into the hollow, hoping his body would follow his head at flydown. Or, at least let him think there was a hen already in the bottom and after he strutted the opposite ridge perhaps when the sun got high and the temps raised he'd come on down for a little company and a drink in the cool shady hollow.

I set-up on the tail of the spur ridge where it sloped off into the hollow. There was a little knob which gave me about twenty feet of elevation over the floor of the hollow. A big white oak sat in about the ideal place for a back rest. I eased out of my vest and and laid out my calls. The Benelli M1 was propped over my left knee and I was set. I scraped out three soft, soft, tree calls. After about a thirty second pause Tom decided to honor my calls with another gobble. I decided to be bold and gave him another soft series of tree talk. He double hammered right in my short series! I laid the box down right then to resist the temptation of overcalling to him on the roost. Light was coming on fast. I thought I would do a flydown cackle and flap my hands off my pants when I heard him fly down. However, I never did hear him fly down, first I knew him being on the ground was when he gobbled down the hollow from me. I forced myself to wait, and then he gobbled again. I picked up the box and made a few clucks and finished off with a little soft purring, followed by a soft scratching in the leaves with my hand. Oh boy! He was hot and on the way, gobbling hard. I set the box down and scooched a little to my left for a better shooting position. It didn't take long and I saw the old boy waddling along looking hard for his hot little hen. He was trying to strut as he walked quickly down the bottom and was comical, almost tripping over himself in the hurry to find the hen. At thirty yards I decided to take the shot. He would have came closer, however, closer is a harder shot with tight patterning shotguns. The actual shot was nearly too easy... He is a grand old bird with sharp hooks about 1 1/8" long, and, a solid brush of a beard around 10" or so. Maybe 21 or 22 pounds. He has been breeding, fighting, and strutting, his breast feathers are scruffed up, some missing, along with his wing feathers looking as if they were ground off with a sanding wheel. He is a gobbler to remember for the beauty of the place, along with his his arrogant attitude and beauty, and the hard work, sweat, and many miles I've put on this season for this opportunity. The hard earned ones always seem sweeter than the easy opportunities...

--------------------
 
GC,
Thanks for sharing the story! That sure sounded like a good hunt, and a good bird. Glad to hear that you used a 110 for the dirty work! :D
I actually have a second tag and am debating giving it another try this weekend. I still have room in the freezer. :)
 
Joe Houser said:
...I still have room in the freezer. :)
Click to expand...

Ah, a true Jack London story..."The Call Of the Freezer"...How a young Idaho business executive finds his "inner hunter" while taking a weekend off from manufacturing drudgery...and endless telephone/email whining... :D

...You need a dog!... ;)
 
chickentrax said:
Ah, a true Jack London story..."The Call Of the Freezer"...How a young Idaho business executive finds his "inner hunter" while taking a weekend off from manufacturing drudgery...and endless telephone/email whining... :D

...You need a dog!... ;)
Click to expand...

Too funny Trax!

Especially the "dog" line.
My beagle loves me in spite of Joe's old tag line.
 
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