Book Your Adventure 1-800-346-8747
Book Your Adventure 1-800-346-8747

World Turkey Slam- Nebraska Merriam’s

Mark Peterson
|  

After our successful hunt for Rios in Texas, we did a road trip to Western Nebraska to hunt for Merriam’s in an area just north of WTA’s office in Sidney.  The majority of Nebraska is scattered with hybrid turkeys, which are a mix of Eastern, Merriam and Rios, but the area we were hunting was one of the pockets that held just Merriam.  The Merriam turkeys call the mountainous regions of the western US their home, with the Rocky Mountains considered their hub.  The Merriam have the shortest beard and spurs of all the turkey subspecies, but in my opinion, make up for it with their coloring.  Their tail feathers have snow-white tips and more white coloring and less black coloring on their wings, which make them pop out.

dsc00617

The plan for the first morning was to hunt along the North Platte River.  The river is a concentration point not only for turkey but deer, pheasants and waterfowl as well.  Once the weather starts to get nasty, some of the best waterfowl hunting in the lower 48 occurs along the Platte River.  The turkeys had been roosting along the river and would go out during the day to the agricultural fields close by and then head back to the river area, late each day, to again roost for the night.  Ryan Watchorn, WTA’s CEO, was our host on this hunt and had done a bunch of pre-scouting for us. He had located a couple of areas where turkeys had been roosting almost every night.  With that, we had a game plan for our first morning hunt.  I would sit with Grant, my cameraman, and my Dad would sit with Ryan, a bit up river from us.   Both spots would be right in the middle of the turkey roost area.

dsc00648

As the sun started to rise, we heard our first gobble up river from us.  This tom was roosted right between were we were set up and where Ryan and Dad had set up, about 500 yards up river from us.  There was another gobbler downriver from us and then another bird farther up river past where Dad was sitting.  But, the gobbler between us was by far the most vocal of the three gobblers.  He continued to gobble on the roost until we heard him fly down.   Once he hit the ground, I started to call lightly and he gobbled back and it sounded like he was running our way.  It looked like it was going to be an action-packed morning, but then he just went silent.   I could have sworn he was going to run into our lap, but he just locked up and went silent.  We continued to call but didn’t get another gobble for the next two hours.  As we were getting ready to slip out of the blind and move to another spot, I went over to pick up our decoy.   As I’m bending bend down to pick it up, I glanced through the heavy cover and caught a gobbler, about 100 yards away, in full strut.

 

Dropping to my knees, a quick bino check showed why that gobbler had stopped gobbling.  He was in full strut and had 4 hens and a Jake around him.  I slipped back to the blind and gave it all I had calling.  I am far from being a good turkey caller, but he finally answered with a gobble. Unfortunately, it was not enough to pull him off those hens.  If calling wasn’t going to work, it was time for a new plan. With the river bend to our backs, I talked with Grant and we decided to see if we couldn’t sneak up and get a little closer.  It took us about 20 minutes of crawling, but we were able to get within 40 yards of the last spot I had seen the tom.  Now, we were out of cover.  We quietly stood and were shocked to see that we had crawled within 10 yards of a hen.   I quickly scanned and saw the tom just as he saw us. The tom stuck his head up to see what we were.  And, that was it. The Kent diamond shots did the trick and he was down.  I had a giant Nebraska Merriam.

dsc00655

After some photos and filming, we met up with Dad and Ryan.   They had the bird from upriver come in silent but couldn’t get him closer than 100 yards.  We went off to eat a quick lunch and made our plan for the afternoon.

dsc00528

We moved about 15 miles away from the morning hunt.  This property was totally different than the river bottom.  It consisted of rolling hills with steep banks and big pines.  This was definitely not normal Nebraska terrain but was some of the prettiest area I’ve ever hunted.  The turkeys in this area roost in the tall pines on the banks but spend most of the day in the flat bottoms.  With the elevation changes, we were able to get up high to glass.  It didn’t take long for us to spot a group of three gobblers off in the far distance.  Now, came the the tricky part.   We had to work our way to them–about 2 miles—while staying in cover without losing them.  As we moved towards them, we continued to glass and see which direction they were heading.  As it was late in the day, we knew they were moving towards a roost but we didn’t know where.  As we closed the distance to less than a half mile, we saw them cutting around a pretty good size pop up hill.  With the sun continuing to move lower, we decided to take an aggressive chance. We quickly moved to the back side of the hill and started calling.

dsc00676

On the first sound of our call, all three toms gobbled back.  They were coming and coming fast.  The gobblers topped the pine covered hill in full strut and continued coming our way.  Dad and I were flat on the ground laying right next to each other.  We were dreaming of a double.  As the lead gobbler came to within 35 yards, Dad raised up and toppled him over.  I quickly got on the 2nd bird and, just like that, we had our dream double.  Grant took some photos and we headed back the same two miles, but this time we were carrying our turkeys.

dsc00660

dsc00638

 

Dad and I will remember our Nebraska double for a long time.  It was a great way to top off our Texas/Nebraska Rio and Merriam hunt.   Through the years I have shared many days and moments in the field with my Dad and we have many more planned.  Ryan, thanks again.  It was an absolute blast of a trip!  As always, your hospitality is first class!!

Related Articles

Wyoming’s Preference Point Deadline Is Approaching: October 31

Wyoming’s Preference Point Deadline Is Approaching: October 31

Preference Point Deadline: October 31, 2025

The deadline to purchase Wyoming preference points is October 31. If WTA is already managing your TAGS applications, you’re all set. If not, don’t miss the chance to secure points this year. It’s the perfect time to talk with a TAGS consultant to start a new portfolio or grow your existing one.

Wyoming’s system is unique. Unlike other states, you don’t automatically receive a preference point if you’re unsuccessful in the draw. Instead, you must log in after July 1 and purchase your points separately. Building points is critical if you want a shot at drawing a Wyoming tag. Over-the-counter opportunities are a thing of the past. Today, only 25% of non-resident tags are issued randomly. The other 75% go to applicants with the highest point totals.

If you want to hunt big game in Wyoming, building preference points isn’t optional…it’s essential.

Watch Wyoming Video

While preference points are an investment in the future, don’t let that keep you from starting now. While Wyoming has units that require 18+ points, there are also good opportunities to hunt sooner. There are elk, deer, and antelope hunts that can be drawn with 0–3 points. Think about it this way—the more points you have, the more options you have.

View Wyoming TAGS Hunts

If you’re serious about trophy-class western hunting, Arizona should be a top priority. With coveted Desert and Rocky Mountain bighorn sheep tags, the chance to draw world-class mule deer permits, and outstanding opportunities for Coues deer, the Grand Canyon State offers some of the most exceptional big game hunting in North America. However, drawing a tag is no easy feat—Arizona’s structured, bonus point-based draw system is designed to reward persistence.

That’s where WTA TAGS comes in.

We do more than help you apply—we help you draw. And once you do, we ensure you make the most of it by connecting you with the state’s top professional outfitters, giving you the best possible shot at success.

Deadline to Apply: June 3 for Deer and Sheep. Draw Post Date: Late July for Deer and…
Frozen Arrow: A South Dakota Bison Hunt

Frozen Arrow: A South Dakota Bison Hunt

Bison are the West’s enduring icon, roaming the plains by the millions before nearly vanishing, only to return through ranch conservation efforts. Today, 90% of them live on ranches, where hunters help fund and manage herds. I’d seen bison in parks, but bowhunting one was the dream. South Dakota’s open country felt right, so I called Worldwide Trophy Adventures, and they set me up with a top-notch outfitter.

The hunt required unique gear. South Dakota’s winter can be brutal. We expected windchills to drop into the -30° F range during our trip, cold enough to frostbite fingers in minutes. I packed heavy wool layers, insulated boots, and fingerless gloves under mittens, knowing I’d need to pull them off to shoot my bow. WTA handled all the logistics. All I had to do was get there.

I drove from Michigan, loaded with empty coolers for meat and space for the hide and skull. The outfitter’s setup was a cluster of small houses around a central lodge, clean and warm with cozy beds. We ate home-cooked dishes in the lodge, hearty meals that fueled our long, frigid days. My guide, Shannon, was excellent. He loves his job and hunts hard, even during nasty weather.

We planned the hunt over beers in the lodge that first night. Bison are solitary, not in herds this time of year, making them tough to find. We’d glass from high points, then stalk on foot. Although the terrain seems flat, it’s full of dips and ridges that bison use to get out of the wind.

Day one, we glassed from a hill, scanning miles of icy grass. Nothing. After a few hours, we got intel on a bull near a watering tank an hour away. We drove out and huddled in a low, swampy area to make a plan. Just as Shannon said, “Bison can appear out of nowhere,” one crested the ridge behind us. We ducked into the reeds, barely hidden. He closed to 45 yards, his long horns gleaming in the blowing grass, but the strong wind made a bow shot a low-percentage opportunity. We chose to let the bull walk, opting to wait for better conditions and a more ethical shot.

We spotted him a mile out with three cows. Shannon set up a brand-new, custom screenprinted bison decoy along a tree line. We hid in a blowdown, hoping to draw him close enough for a shot. The bull came right to the decoy but stayed 60 yards out. Again, it was too windy to shoot. He moved off fast, trailing the cows. We attempted other stalks, but the cows’ sharp eyes kept us pinned out of range. Beat, we headed back to the lodge for a hot meal and playoff football, planning to pick them up in the morning.

Day two was -30° F with wind chill, but the wind had laid down substantially and calmer air meant I could reach further with my bow. We picked up the bull and his cows early. One cow locked onto us, staring for minutes, forcing a slow crawl through a frozen marsh. We closed the distance, but they fed away and out of the area. I couldn’t believe how slow they looked yet how fast they moved through the landscape.

We picked them up again, grazing in a huge open area with a single tree line cutting through it. Using the trees as cover, we crept up, tree by tree, to avoid the watchful eyes of those wary cows. When we snuck within range, I slipped off my mittens, the cold burning my fingers, and nocked an arrow. The first shot hit the bull’s heart. His massive body barely flinched. A second arrow struck true, moving him left and behind a cow. He was mortally wounded, but I wanted to end things quickly. I nocked another arrow and sent it through his lungs. He dropped in 30 seconds after my last shot. My nerves were shot, my whiskers frozen, my fingers numb, but I had dropped a great bull bison with my bow.

The dead bull was beautiful. His horns, wide and tall like goalposts and worn smooth, were unique, Shannon said. His thick coat puffed dust when I slapped it, his blood frozen on the icy ground. Bison are an American icon and taking this one with a bow was amazing.

I took my bull to a nearby butcher, and within 24 hours, it was ready. They showed me the broadhead slashes in his heart, clean and lethal. The meat filled my coolers, the skull went to a taxidermist in Michigan, and the hide’s being tanned for mittens and hats—wonderful reminders of the hunt.

The cold was the toughest part of this hunt, colder than anything I’d experienced, but it made it unforgettable. For a bison hunt, this one’s hard to beat.

Learn About this Bison Hunt Watch the Hunt

Get Trip Specials & Cancellations,
Right Where You Want It.

No spam. Just the good stuff. Opt-out anytime.