Merriam Turkey Hunting With Adventures Wild

-By Brandon Wikman

My passion for chasing gobblers through forest and field stretches for miles, literally. This past week I tossed my books, classes, and the memory of school aside to drive 14-hours and nearly 850-miles to southwestern Nebraska. All for a crack at a monster Merriam long beard with the help of my dear friend Chris Vaughn from Adventures Wild.

The majestic beauty of a simple white strip across a band of tail feathers drives the spirit of hardcore bird hunters from across the country. The unique characteristics of the species and terrain variations make the hunting experience one not to be forgotten.

I left Eau Claire, Wisconsin after my Advertising class at 7pm and drove the painstaking 14 hours through the night, a full cup of coffee in hand at all times. I arrived the next morning in a small country town by the name of Benkelman, population merely under 1,000. You know the turkey hunting must be good when there seems to be more of a thriving bird population than people.

By noon I was already in the woods, trekking or just plain sleepwalking, I can’t remember. I was absolutely exhausted, but the urge to kill a turkey gave me enough verve to trudge across the river bottom in search for tracks, scat, and sign. No more than an hour in the woods, I was already on my first setup. A pompous gobbler escorted a harem of hens across an alfalfa field. Not only did every hen in the entire square mile join the parade, but also the long beard marched gobbling away from me. All I could do was watch as my reality piddled into nothing more than a dream.

As I watched from the concealment of a blind, birds began filtering through the green pasture and into the woods. Heavy rain started to crash, which turned into small beads of hail. The weather evolved from a pleasant sunny afternoon into a miserable cold evening.

I sunk my way into the chair as far as I could and shivered a sigh of disgust. The light soon faded thanks to a heaping pile of billowy black clouds, which ended my hunt sooner than I bargained for. All I could hope was that tomorrow would be a better day.

I arose from a tireless sleep and stretched. The itching feeling of anticipation for hearing gobbling, spitting, drumming, and the countless sounds of nature began to escalate. That is until I opened the curtains and peered out the window with my jaw smashing against the windowsill. More than two inches of the color white caked the entire plains. Not only was snow an inhibiting factor, but the wind tore across the valleys ripping trees and sending tumbleweeds airborne. This was some sporadic weather for spring. The entire day I spent sprawled on the bed, watching the Outdoor Channel and wishing I were living it.

I woke the third day with much surprise to see the snow melted and spring greens dominating the countryside. I knew that the gobblers were going to be hollering, considering the day before was most likely spent under a tree keeping out of the wind.

As the orange glow sparkled across the horizon, the race of gobbling began. From the nearest oak tree to the furthest saddle, turkeys roared with thunder. I sat down, called and had a gobbler respond within seconds. No more than ten minutes, I had a Merriam long beard in my line of fire. He stood proud, looking for his mate. As he edged closer I shot him as my cousin, Joe Nawrot, documented the joy with a video camera. It was an amazing turnaround of weather and luck.

It truly made the drive well worth each and every mile, cup of coffee, and pounding headache along the way!