Paradise found in plains site
Hunting ring-necked pheasants on a freezing Kansas morning kindles warm memories
GREENSBURG, Kan. — There is plenty to be said for hunting alone.
Countless cold mornings of self-reflection spent sitting on a hay meadow in Leon County have done more for me than I’ll probably ever wholly realize.
But there is just something about sharing moments afield with friends and family. Those types of memories are bonding and eternal.
And those memories often crop up in the most unexpected of places.
Greensburg is one of those spots.
A quaint sight on the southern high plains of Kansas, the little city that is home to less than 800 people boasts many things. The water tower that looms above alerts visitors to the “Home of the Big Well,” the largest hand-dug well in the world since 1888.
Named after D.R. “Cannonball” Green, a stage coach line operator who apparently drove his horses like a bat out of hell, Greensburg also proudly carries its name in another way.
The city has bounced back as one of the greenest in the nation after a 1.7-mile wide EF5 tornado demolished 95 percent of the city and claimed 11 lives in 2007. Greensburg rebuilt with the most Leadership in Energy and Environmental Designcertified buildings per capita in the country. It is the first city in the U.S. to make all streetlights LED and 10 wind turbines just outside of town supply renewable energy.
It was here, where the past and future so visibly intersect, that a kooky yet formidable crew — my brother, father and I — came to pursue one of the city’s other famed attractions, the ringnecked pheasant.
We awoke in one of the lodges at Upland Inn Hunts before setting out across an unfamiliar landscape.
Nineteen degrees is cold for overgrown kids from Southeast Texas. Remnants of the season’s first snow that had fallen the day before could still be seen in tiny patches.
A chilly morning can be shaken off, though, by the adrenaline that flows through an open field.
Pake McCarley, 32, who grew up in Greensburg, guided us through one of Upland Inn’s dozens of Conservation Reserve Program (CRP) fields with a chill, laid back demeanor.
“I love it, and I don’t even get to shoot,” the soft-spoken Midwesterner said.
The CRP fields are perfect habitat for pheasants and quail, the game birds symbolic of Kansas hunting.
We had plenty of the obligatory “we’re not in Texas, anymore” moments in the Sunflower State, but stepping off into the sea of bronze that was a mishmash of native prairie grasses; big and little bluestem and switchgrass, was like stepping into another world. The amber waves enveloped the hidden abundance of avian life that thrived underneath.
CRP fields have been a boon to habitat for pheasants in Kansas. CRP has mitigated habitat loss as agriculture has intensified and techniques have changed in the state.
“We probably would’ve been losing pheasants if it hadn’t been for CRP,” said Jeff Prendergast, small game specialist with the Kansas Department of Wildlife, Parks, and Tourism.
Prendergast said the department just finished a study that examined different cover crops in relation to nesting success.
“CRP was by far the most highly selected nesting habitat and had the highest nest success rate,” he said.
The creation of this pheasant paradise across 12,000 acres is the life’s work of Jason Johnson, owner of Upland Inn Hunts.
Johnson felt like a made man when his grandfather invited him on an openingday hunt in Nebraska when he was 13 years old. A month before the season, however, his grandfather passed away. Still, with a broken heart, and broken arm from a football injury, Johnson decided to go on the hunt anyway with friends who’d hunted with his grandfather for decades. They took him under their wings, he saw his first bird on point and the rest was history.
That single instance changed his life.
Today, Johnson provides a place to create the atmosphere that captured him all those years ago.
“Each group has their own unique camaraderie, but they’re all fun in their own way,” Johnson said.
“I think it’s the most social of hunting sports.”
The bumbling group from Texas found that to be true, as well.
Early misses were met with cackles and chastised. Hits were celebrated with yells and sly grins. We clowned on each other as we strolled through the chest-high grasses.
McCarley and his three dogs expertly put us on plenty of birds, finding the greatest success as we crept through strips of milo.
For many, hunting with canines is the greatest part of bird hunting. If a dog is a human’s best friend, then a hunting dog must extend that bond exponentially, perhaps to even the level of sacred.
Our three companions were characters.
Beau, a German shorthaired pointer, had all the finesse. A frozen face, straight tail and a single lifted paw let us know when it was time to stop goofing around. Mike, a small black lab, brought all the energy. He bounded through the field with ceaseless excitement. The real star, though, was Jeb, a burly black lab who appeared to have some mastiff blood in him and carried a huge personality. After a few hours of running around he was loafing around next to us, all of us with tired legs. When the shots came though, he would still emerge with the loot like a seasoned veteran.
When all hunters, two and four-legged alike, came together to flush a bird it was euphoric. The thunderous crash of a pheasant taking flight left us awestruck.
One particularly mischievous bird almost left me upended. He waited until my foot came across him before he exploded under my foot like a land mine. His boldnessperhaps saved him, as my wits were still being collected as he soared off into the endless sky of the Great Plains.
If sibling telepathy exists, it was on display once we finally got settled in. Shooting in unison, heads domed with safety orange, my brother and I found our zone on the hunt’s final leg.
We reached our bag limit of four roosters apiece, which is one bird more than the regulations allow in the Dakotas. Texans enjoy the more liberal bag limit and the shorter drive that Kansas pheasant hunting offers, and Johnson said most of his customers come from the Lone Star State.
We surveyed and appreciated our harvest; each pheasant upon examination was distinctive with psychedelic colors splashed on its head, neck and wings. We walked off the CRP field with sore shoulders and wearing gunpowder cologne. A special bird so engrained in Kansas’ culture had made its mark on us.
Pheasants were first introduced to Kansas in 1906 when 3,000 birds were released by the state for the purpose of hunting, and the first season opened statewide in 1917. Natives of mostly East Asia, ring-necked pheasants were first released in the U.S. in Oregon in the 1880s and grew in popularity as a game bird.
The ring-necked pheasant itself is an oddity. If a mad scientist got hold of a turkey and peacock, merged the two and then slapped on some eagle wings, perhaps there would be a chance of replication.
Sometimes you can find them waddling around on rural roads, munching on gravel to help digest a seedheavy diet.
The quirky fowl can be found in numerous states in the U.S., but the best hunting states are typically in the Midwest, with Kansas in the top tier behind the Dakotas.
“We’re almost always second or third in pheasant harvest for the country,” Prendergast said.
Prendergast also said Kansas has had phenomenal quail opportunities over the last few years, making it a prime destination for upland bird hunting.
Kansas does not have a lot of public land for hunting, but you can have memorable trips at places like Upland Inn or on the million-plus acres enrolled in the state’s walk-in hunting access (WIHA) program that gives private landowners incentives to allow public hunting on their properties.
Regardless of where and how, pheasant hunting is undoubtedly an endeavor that is best enjoyed in a group.
We witnessed the social phenomenon brewing the night before our hunt. Total strangers gathered to enjoy the amenities of the lodge and swap stories of yesterday’s hunt and those of years past.
The tales unveiled lives led pursuing a shared passion. That passion brought them to Greensburg and will surely carry them to countless other serendipitous destinations.
Priceless memories await collection along the way.