End of the season

Perhaps you may be able to share some spots where said nets could be put into use???

I was set up on a ridge with rain dripping from the trees after overnight showers Monday. Wasn’t expecting much gobbling in those conditions, but the toms were vocal, except on my ridge, but they shut up after hitting the ground.
I stayed put and called softly as fog rolled in shortly after sunrise. Then a gobble across the draw. A couple more soft yelps and clucks and he answered closer on the other side of a steep ditch.
He moved a little closer and kept gobbling, but he stopped on the end of an old logging road and I didn’t think he would be coming over to my side.
I decided to risk making a move by inching closer to him to make him think the hen was coming, so I slipped about 15 yards toward him down the hill to where the old road came up my side of the ridge and leaned up against a big hickory tree.
A soft yelp on a diaphragm produced no response. Dang, the heavy foliage must not have hid my movement and I busted him.
Another yelp and he thundered below the rise in front of me less that 50 yards away. I ease up my gun in his direction when I catch movement to my right and there stood two longbeards 25 yards away.
As I turned to put the bead on the first one, he was gone in a flash, so I quickly swung to the other tom and popped him before he could get away.
He had a 10-inch beard, inch spurs and weighed a hair under 23 pounds.
Yesterday was the opening day of season 4 and found me in the same woods. It was clear and warm, so I expected lots of gobbling after several rainy nights but heard only three toms sound off on the roost.
Called softly for a while, had a hen loudly respond to my calling to the north and she pulled in a tom who gobbled once. Called again and looked back to my right and there stood a big tom that had come in silent 15 yards away. He bolted at my first movement.
Sat a little while longer before heading down the ridge toward another setup. I cross the ditch and head up the hill and past the spot where I shot Monday’s bird when I heard a distant gobble.
Sat and called for a while and hear another faint gobble to the north. Sounds like the only game in town so I head to the next ridge north.
Go down the hill and get about halfway up the other side when I stop and call. I think he answered but is still a long ways away. So I go to the top of the ridge and call again and hear a gobble in the “north field.” I thought that bird is moving fast, so I maneuver toward the field, call, he answers, but then another tom gobbles back to the east.
I yelp again on a glass call and the one to the east answers. Another call, another answer east and closer. Nothing from the field, so I head back along the ridge to the east thinking I can work this bird.
Went about 30 yards, called again and he gobbled closer at about 150 yards away. Went a little further and sat down against a big oak, but my field of vision was terrble; if he came up the hill he would be in my lap before I saw him. So I slid a little further east quickly scanning for setups, but there were blowdowns, briars and thickets of sapplings everywhere between me and the tom.
I thought I better see what this guy is doing before risking another move, so a soft yelp on a mouth call and he double gobbled not 50 yards away. But I couldn’t see him and hopefully he didn’t see me.
I pressed tightly against the big oak, slowly raised my gun and made another soft yelp. Then I see his fan and white head moving parallel to me along the top of the ridge. He goes behind a thicket and I swing to a small opening that looks like my only potential shot.
I could hear his spits and drums as he strutted closer along the ridge. I don’t take shots at a bird in full strut, but I knew it was my only chance at this bird and as he eased into the opening, I dropped him at less than 20 yards. What a rush.
He had a 10-inch thick beard, 1 1/4 spurs and weighed 22.5 pounds.
The end of turkey season always brings a bittersweet moment. Still flush with the adrenaline of success, you shoulder your bird and head toward the truck when the realization hits that this is the last time you will be in the turkey woods this season.
But any hint of sadness quickly fades as you begin the long walk reliving the events of a great season.

Great read!! Congrats and the birds.

Sounds like an awsome hunt! Congrats!

Congrats on the great hunts