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Kansas Bobwhites – The Journey Within, A Bird Hunter’s Diary

Mark Peterson
|  
  • Mark Peterson

After successful stops in Arizona, Oregon and Nebraska, our last stop on this Upland Slam road trip, before heading home to Michigan for Christmas, would be north central Kansas for wild Bobwhite Quail. Kansas, Oklahoma and Texas are among the top states for hunting wild Bobwhite quail. We are set to meet one of WTA’s best Kansas whitetail outfitters. Timing for our upland hunt is perfect and as we pulled into camp, the last deer hunter of the season was leaving. We got to hear his story and see the smile on his face. He took a 160-inch, 8 point with his rifle. Even though the outfitter’s specialty is big deer, he also runs a limited number of upland hunters on his leases. Because of very limited pressure, following a great hatch, we should be in for some excellent hunting. Hunting wild upland birds is very different than hunting released birds. We all have had great plantation hunts in the Southeast, but those hunts are totally different than trekking after wild Bobwhite Quail.

After our camp arrival, we unloaded our stuff and got our dogs ready. For this outing, the outfitter drove us around to a number of areas that he had leased to hunt. He showed us many of the different fields and drainages where he had permission. It was a substantial acreage and, if needed, we could hunt for days. On his suggestion, we focused on a long creek bottom, where there was a mixture of cut agricultural fields and CRP grass fields that ran along both sides of a wide creek. This creek bottom ran for over 3½ miles and the water was wide enough that crossing back and forth would be extremely difficult. Our initial plan was to hunt one side down to the bridge, cross over by using the bridge, and then hunt the other side back.

The width of the creek bottom varied as it was anywhere from 25 yards to 125 yards wide. There was a mixture of grasses and mature trees. All in all, it seemed to be picture perfect for holding a covey or two of bobwhites. Knowing that we would be hunting fairly close, we opted to take Arrow and Tiny. As we dropped off the top, 
down into the bottom starting our hunt, the first thing I noted was the size of the buck rubs. The bucks here
were rubbing some man size trees. I made a mental note to remember to come back to Kansas to hunt whitetail here again.

We settled in and it didn’t take long for both dogs to lock up in front of me. I was walking along the creek and Dad was walking along the field edge. Both Arrow and Tiny were locked on a thick shrub patch.  As I walked in, our first covey of bobwhites came bursting out. Of course, instinct took over and I swung on the closest bird to my right, which was the opposite direction from Dad. I squeezed the trigger and watched him fall from the air. It was a perfect shot, but he fell on the other side of the 25-foot wide and 2 to 3-foot deep creek. Having the bird marked, I wanted to find a way to cross and as opposed to leaving it there. I knew from experience that it would be hard to find it on our way back.

The best spot to cross was shaky at best and consisted of a big old tree that had fallen down across the creek. Somehow, I made my way across without getting wet. I reloaded my Benelli and signaled Arrow to where I saw the bird go down. He locked up within 10 feet of the spot I had marked. Perfect, Arrow found it. That was mistake number one. I relaxed my shotgun and walked in. It never crossed my mind that there was a possibility of another covey in the exact spot the bird had fallen. This covey of about 14 birds takes off, and this is where mistake number two happens. Flustered with the giant covey rising, and not being ready, I sent three hail Mary shoots at the last bird to get up. No luck. Remember I said mistake number 2. After my last shot is when the last 2 birds, right at my feet, decided to get up. Each time in the field, I learn lessons. I knew better, but I was so excited to get that first bobwhite that I relaxed. The good news was that the first bird was lying right there and he was a gorgeous
male bobwhite.

After a couple of quick pictures, I crossed back over the creek and rejoined Dad. This time, I was 100% focused in, which was good as it didn’t take long to find another covey and I redeemed myself with a nice double. We spent the rest of the day working along both sides of the creek bed and put up 8 coveys in all. It was an absolutely great day of Bobwhite Quail hunting in Kansas. I know there is a lot of great places to quail hunt, but if you’re looking for one of the very, very best give the team at WTA a call. You won’t be sorry. They have done an amazing job of lining up all of my trips for the Upland Slam.

As we left Kansas, we decided to waste no time driving our pickup home to Michigan for a much-needed break. It will be good to be home with family for Christmas.

This has been an amazing fall. The Upland Slam adventure has brought us to many great places all across North America where we have met fantastic outfitters and guides at the many hunt locations. Our dogs have learned so much and watching them on the many new species has been simply amazing. Because of the planning and hard work of the team at WTA, we have thus far, all of the upland species we have gone after. We still have two more locations yet to hunt for the Upland Slam. We will be in Hawaii in January. And then, with some luck, I’ll wrap up the Upland Slam during the month of February in Sonora Mexico.

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Limited-Entry Alaska Dall Sheep: North America’s Pinnacle Hunt

Limited-Entry Alaska Dall Sheep: North America’s Pinnacle Hunt

As the December 15 deadline to apply for Alaska’s most coveted big-game tags approaches, one opportunity stands above all others: limited-entry Dall sheep. If you’ve ever dreamed of pursuing this iconic high-country species, now is the time to apply.

Why this Hunt Matters More than Ever

In the not-too-distant past, Alaska suffered back-to-back-to-back severe weather events that dramatically impacted Dall sheep populations across much of the state, resulting in fewer over-the-counter opportunities and even closures. Hunters have been forced to look to Canada, where hunts are now largely sold out through 2027 and prices have surged beyond $60,000. Even at such outrageous prices, availability is scarce.

This shift has made Alaska’s limited-entry draw areas for Dall sheep one of the most valuable options left for serious hunters. With hunts priced between $28,000 and $35,000, applicants can still access very high-quality white sheep at nearly half the cost of Canadian alternatives.

Exceptional Success Rates

Despite the challenges statewide, the limited-entry regions—managed by very conservative tag allocations—continue to produce outstanding results for the lucky applicants of WTA TAGS:

  • 100% shot opportunity during the past three seasons,
  • 90%+ harvest rates on mature rams,
  • Some of the largest Dall rams in North America.

For those willing to embrace the physical challenge, this hunt represents the ultimate North American mountain adventure.

Why…
My Alaska Range Grizzly Adventure

My Alaska Range Grizzly Adventure

I’ve been a bear hunter my whole life, but grizzly was always the dream. When the time finally came, I reached out to WTA to book a hunt. My someday hunt was finally becoming a reality. I thought I knew what I was hoping for: one good opportunity at a mature grizzly. What actually happened over those 10 days was beyond anything I could have imagined.

My journey began in Anchorage, where I stayed the night before flying into the bush. The outfitter has a liaison in town to help with any last-minute needs, so no rental car was needed. The next morning at Merrill Field, I boarded a turboprop (they use caravans, not tiny Super Cubs) for the 1½-hour flight into hunting country.

At the airstrip, the crew waited with Kong—a massive military deuce-and-a-half that can ford rivers, plus Polaris six-wheelers. After a stop at the roadhouse to organize, we headed to moose camp, about four miles upriver.

The camp itself told stories of 50 years of hunting. Cabin walls covered with dozens of hunters’ stories, as far back as the ’70s. Old regulation books showing $50 polar bear licenses. Boxes of ammo, left behind over decades for anyone who might need them. Four cabins with wood stoves surrounded the main lodge, and there was a creek-fed shower with endless hot water. A crate of beer stays ice-cold in the stream. It’s glorious. Remote Alaska with just enough comfort to keep you hunting hard every day.

From the roadhouse, we spotted two black bears on the mountainside. That evening, the cameraman Jordan and I glassed near camp, getting oriented for what was supposed to be a grizzly-focused hunt.

The next morning, those black bears were still there. We moved in. At 390 yards, with shifting thermals threatening to blow our approach, I took my shot. Low but lethal. Two more shots finished it. While butchering, we discovered this old boar was peppered with birdshot—dozens of pellets in each leg and shoulder. Somewhere, sometime, he’d been a problem bear. He could take a bullet. By 3 p.m., we had meat in the freezer and the hide salted. We were back to looking for grizzly.

Day two took us seven miles up the creek on six-wheelers, somewhat technical riding through river crossings and over rough terrain. Near the old sheep camp, we spotted a sow with three cubs and various black bears, but no boars.

Then everything changed. Rounding an alder-lined corner, our guide hit the brakes. A black bear ahead was acting strangely. It was actually approaching us. Behind him, a grizzly was hunting him, panting from the chase. The black bear, caught between predators, escaped up the cliffs.

The grizzly sat on its haunches, exhausted, looking between us and the black bear as it escaped. This bear was in full predator mode, seemingly calculating whether we might be easier prey. Then he simply lay down for a nap, 400 yards away, completely unconcerned by our presence.

For 34 minutes, I stayed behind the gun. Time passed slowly as we talked through every scenario: “If he does this, we’ll do that.” Finally, he stood and turned broadside at 415 yards. One squeeze, perfect shot placement. He barrel-rolled down the slope.

This was it—the animal I’d wanted forever, taken in a sequence I couldn’t have scripted better. Pure euphoria.

We had two bears down and over a week left of hunting. Day three was Jordan’s birthday, and we decided to get him a bear tag from camp. This would be his first hunt behind a rifle. We picked up a great black bear in no time. Jordan’s demeanor totally changed as he went into hunt mode and put a perfect 350-yard shot right into the bear’s heart. Top-tier birthday!

Three bears in three days with a week remaining. I bought a second tag and grabbed my bow. We spent four days searching for another bear, exploring drainages, following wolf tracks, catching Dolly Varden, and collecting shed antlers. Living the full Alaska experience while always hunting.

On the second-to-last day, I spotted a huge black bear doing loops through berry patches on a steep face. After multiple failed positioning attempts, I opted to go solo while Jordan and our guide filmed from a distance. The bear, hearing me crash through the alders below him, thought I was another bear invading his berries. At nine yards, with his hackles up and ears flat, I put an arrow through his front shoulder. Our group’s fourth bear.

Four bears in four days. An incredible adventure. This was the outfitter’s first year focusing on Fall bear hunting. The populations are thriving (evident from the moose without calves), and they’ve wisely increased tag allocations.

I came to Alaska with a lifelong dream of taking a grizzly. What I got was something I couldn’t have imagined: multiple species, incredible encounters, and memories that transformed a dream hunt into something beyond dreams. The grizzly lying down in front of us, completely unafraid. Jordan’s pure joy at his first bear. Stalking with my bow, close enough to hear the bear growling and clacking its jaws.

Some hunts meet your expectations. This one created new ones. When you book with WTA, you’re not just booking a hunt, you’re setting yourself up for adventures you can’t even imagine.

Learn about this Hunt

The Central Flyway is a waterfowl superhighway—a vital corridor for migrating ducks and geese—and for those of us lucky enough to be waterfowlers, it offers unmatched opportunities to hunt and experience the migration from September through January.

Over the past 40 years, I’ve had the privilege of chasing ducks around the world, but many of my favorite memories come from following this flyway, especially during those early years when my duck-obsessed father would pull my brother and me out of school every Fall to chase birds.

That’s right! We missed school every year for dedicated waterfowl trips. No regrets.

In the true north country, along the edges of Canada’s boreal forest, early-season hunts are nothing short of magical. The birds are just beginning their journey south—hungry, unpressured, and eager to settle into newly harvested grain fields. It’s a waterfowler’s paradise. The decoy spreads in these northern zones are often among the first the birds see, and their eager, uneducated responses can be absolutely breathtaking.

One of the most unforgettable sights is the famed swirling cyclone of Canada geese funneling down into a field. I can still hear my dad yelling over the deafening honks, his voice barely audible, “They can’t hear us!” The birds were so loud that those at the top of the funnel couldn’t even hear the gunfire below. If you’ve ever experienced it, you know exactly the kind of spine-tingling moment I’m talking about.

When the birds pushed south, so did we.

The prairie pothole regions of North Dakota are pure waterfowl gold. The right pothole on a cold morning—especially if you can find open water—can be magic. And if the water’s frozen? My dad had a fix: get there early, break trail through the skim ice, and push it under itself to create an opening. Voilà…open water.

I’ll never forget one frigid morning. After breaking ice, my hands were bright red and on the edge of frostbite. I looked at my dad for sympathy, but he just grinned as the puddle ducks cupped up and said, “Do you want warm hands, or do you want to shoot ducks?” Like I said, he was a fanatic. I grabbed the old Winchester pump and did my best. That day, I also learned the value of hand warmers and Gore-Tex gloves.

There are so many unforgettable moments:

  • Slipping and sliding at a Nebraska reservoir, laughing hysterically as we wondered if we’d ever get the old Suburban and trailer back up the icy boat ramp. After limiting out on greenheads.
  • Rowing across the Delta Marsh in the dark to find the perfect crescent-shaped bulrush island to set the decoys that the canvasbacks couldn’t resist.
  • Chasing snow geese in South Dakota and realizing we’d finally picked the perfect field, the one that made it worth all those hours spent spray-painting sheet-metal shell decoys in the garage.

These weren’t just hunting trips. They were memories shared with family, with friends, and with the great outdoors itself.

In the end, missing a week of school every year was worth every single minute.

The last duck hunt I shared with my admittedly duck-crazy father was a world away and half a lifetime ago. The hunt may be long over, but the memory will always stay with me.

At WTA, we’re proud to connect our clients with trusted partners so they can experience these same one-of-a-kind adventures.

We offer incredible destinations and outstanding outfitters all along the Central Flyway—from Alberta and Saskatchewan to North Dakota, South Dakota, Nebraska, Kansas, and Oklahoma—so you can create your own lasting memories.

Call Worldwide Trophy Adventures at 1-800-346-8747 today to book your trip of a lifetime.

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