So buddy I used to train dogs with is 59, turning 60 in August. He's had killing a Spring Long Beard on his bucket list and just has never been able to put it all together and make it happen. So I told him to come down and we'd see if we could get it done. Our weather Thurs eve, and Friday were not conducive to killing turkeys for sure and mine didn't make a peep nor any appearance either day. I saved a particular bird and part of the farm for Saturday knowing the weather was going to be much more cooperative. But the birds were not very vocal. We finally got a gobble a long way off, we got into the area I thought it was in and set up. First call, he cut me off, he was at the base of the other ridge across from us maybe 200yds away. So I picked up and moved our setup a bit closer and set up and started calling again and got zero response. Set there calling occasionally now and then for bout an hour before we got another response. He was in the same place. I told him he had to have hens still. So we made another move on him and set up and started calling again. He started to come in some (he was in a field), but the only thing we got called in was his hens. They came, checked us out and went back to the field to the gobbler. I told him we needed to make a big move and swing around this bird and get near that field. So we took a good hike to get around on him 180 degrees from where we had been set up. It was a little chute that comes into the field. I get to a point I can glass the field and I see him out there with a Jake and 3 hens. I had him edge his way out in some timber near the edge of the field. He was still 15 yds from the edge and it was the hope that I could pull him to us close enough for him to shoot him. I got back bout 30 yards from him and started calling. I couldn't tell what was going on. So I judged my calling based on what I saw him doing. Then all of a sudden, I see a hen in the chute bout 5 yards from my buddy. I'm praying she don't pick him out and she turns and heads back to the gobbler. I lightly purred and clucked some and I see his head go down on the stock. I'm waiting and waiting and finally he shoots. I run down the chute and see a gobbler head run out of the field. I thought he missed and he goes running by me then I see the fan raise up in the grass! He was just a 2 year old but had a nice beard at 10 3/4", weighed 18.12 but only had 5/8" spurs. He was elated, first bird and a bucket list check off.