Hot Foot in the Hamburg Hills
I have been turkey hunting for 14 years with my good friend Wade Wineman near the small Mississippi town of Hamburg. Hamburg is just across the Franklin Co. line in Southwest Miss. just below Fayette. The hills around Hamburg are some of the toughest and steepest hog back and finger ridges you will find just about anywhere except those around Vicksburg. Mr. Wineman owns 80 acres there, but leases the hunting rights to a good friend of his that has close to 1000 acres all around his tract. An agreement was reached at the beginning of our hunting there, where we could hunt on the entire tract the first two weekends of the turkey season. In return they had the deer hunting rights on the 80 acres of Wade’s for the season. The agreement has been mutual for both parties since they have killed some fine deer on or near the 80 acres and we have killed some fine south Mississippi gobblers there.
Having been raised on delta turkeys, it took a few years for us to learn how to hunt the birds living there. For the first hunt there, we pitched a summer tent & camped in a gravel pit on the property. That first hunt in about 1995 was the coldest open day on record in South Mississippi. It reached 22 degrees that A.M. We slept in all the clothes we brought. The toothpaste was frozen solid that morning, and when we walked out of the tent there was a frost from the ground to the tops of the tallest trees. Actually looked like it had snowed. That first morning Wade heard 7 different turkeys from his land up at the top of a hugh hogback. I had located a bird in a creek bottom not too far from camp with about 20 hens. Latter we named the creek, John’s creek, because I spent a lot of time hunting there. We did not kill a turkey that weekend. In fact, it took us several years to start killing birds.
One of the most fun birds that I have ever killed was a bird I named Hot Foot. Usually we don’t give names to birds unless we have hunted them most of the season or several seasons. The Haint of Paw Paw Ridge was one. Wade wrote about that bird in East of the Slash. Since we usually only hunted the first two weekends of the season in south Mississippi, we usually did not get to hunt birds for an extended period of time. Usually two or three days on two weekends was the extent of our hunt.
This hunt occurred about 7 years ago. My son Kirk was up for the weekend and I really wanted him to get a bird. Wade and I had hunted the previous day and he had spooked a group of hens going to a gobbler in Tillman woods. Other than that, it had been pretty quite. Usually early in the year the birds gobble a little on the roost and a brief time on the ground before shutting up for the day. Kirk got in that evening and plans were made for the next morning. He and I were to go to the crossroads where I had heard some birds in the distance the morning before. The crossroads was at the top of huge hogback that started up and ran northeast from the junction of two creeks. Usually we parked at the top of Tillman Pass, walking down, crossing one of the creeks, and then up the trail to top of the hogback. Wade was going to hunt the spooked bird on the Tillman Pass side of the creek.
That next morning we all went to the top of Tillman Pass. Kirk started loading his gun and it jammed badly. I gave Kirk my gun, and to keep from running late, I asked Wade to take Kirk with him and hunt the main hogback between the creeks. I would stay, fix Kirks Browning BPS and hunt in Tillman Woods.
After taking the Browning apart, I got the 3 ½ inch shell out and got all reassembled. I walked down the gravel road that cut through Tillman and started to listen. I could hear a faint bird to the Southeast and down low. Heading in that direction, it was slow going. A lot of cane and very noisy. I could tell the bird was roosted in a low saddle down near the bottom overlooking a small creek. I could go no closer and worked the bird from a side ridge and above the bird. That was my only option. I knew this bird would be tough since every car taking the low water bridge road to Hamburg, cut through the 100 acres. Not only that, but every turkey hunter, stops and either hoots or makes a call. These are educated birds. They have heard it all. It took me 3 ½ hours of working that bird up and finally did it with some hen cutting and jake gobbling on a Turpin gobble box that I made.
The turkey worked his way up my ridge and he was bouncing around like someone had given him the hot foot. I don’t think I have ever seen a more nervous turkey. He was dancing so much it was difficult for me to get a clear shot, as cane was still thick in spots. Finally at 17 steps, I pulled the trigger on Kirks browning. The 3 ½ inch load hit him at the base of the neck, blew him back 3 feet and he did not flop. It was a nice Hamburg hills gobbler that had, what I call the hot foot disease.
