Phasianus colchicus took the Midwest by storm a hundred years ago, and the ring-necked pheasant is still the king of game birds for most hunters. We roam the mid-section of our vast nation in search of the elusive ghost of our dreams. And while getting there may be half the fun, being there is when the rodeo really begins.

Where To Find Public Land Pheasants

The Cheshire Cat in Alice in Wonderland said it best: “If you don’t know where you’re going, any road will take you there.” How do you navigate the millions of acres of public land and walk-in ground just waiting for you to drop the tailgate and unclip your dog’s leash? Rather than wandering, perplexed as a hunter on Rodeo Drive, here’s how to map out your pheasant quest.

It starts with a destination, dictated in large part by how far you’re willing to travel. If you know how to read, you’ve already got an idea of where you want to go. Each region has sweet spots handed down from father to son, shared by multi-generational groups and “discovered” by newbies dazzled by clouds of birds darkening the sky at the end of a cut-cornfield drive. My revelation came at the nub of an ancient shelterbelt in South Dakota. It was being pushed by two friends while I shivered, hopes high and temperature low. Out of the mist rose a mob of what I thought were blackbirds they were so numerous, until a roar of wings and telltale cackles broke the still air.

I missed twice, shook my head, reloaded and dropped a late riser whose technicolor pelage vibrated against the pristine snow even when stilled by my shot. That was a good year, but even a bad year in South Dakota is better than most other places combined.

Other states have their proponents and having explored them all after three decades roaming public land, I understand the allure of each. Northeast Montana, Iowa, Nebraska, and western Kansas are all strong contenders for the bronze and silver medals. Not coincidentally, most of those states have sophisticated public-access initiatives to help hunters chase ringnecks across vast prairies and through shin-tangling thickets. “Walk-in” programs are the golden key that unlocks the door; start your quest there, long before you fill the tank and crate the dog.

Dickinson and Mott, North Dakota are worth your attention. They’re lower-key, smaller towns with fewer amenities than most, but surrounded by public access. Williston’s oil boom has subsided and lodging options are myriad. The rolling hills beckon, if you don’t mind the mix of drilling and development alongside your new favorite cover. Plentywood and other small towns in northeast Montana along the “High Line” are also on my radar. Western Kansas towns including Norton, Goodland, Jetmore and Osborne are podium-contenders, offering a 365-day license bargain and warmer late season weather.

Like the Oscars, I’m saving the best for last, but the supporting cast of South Dakota towns east of the Missouri River offer plenty of opportunity. Watertown, Aberdeen, Brookings, and Redfield welcome hunters and have plenty of public access. South Dakota counties with the highest pheasant harvest numbers include Brown, Beadle, Brule, Lyman, and Spink. Each has charm, varied habitat, and sometimes, more than you bargained for. Circumnavigating a small pond near Watertown, my dog’s GPS collar sounded “point.” The cattails were so thick I had a hard time seeing him, quivering, literally at my feet. The wirehair’s hunched-up posture should have alerted me—he had pointed a raccoon. Everyone came out of that tussle unscathed; another bird soon filled my vest, and all was right in the world once again. We celebrated with a visit to the Terry Redlin museum.

I’ve shot (and missed) birds near every town and in every county on this list and can honestly recommend any of them. But for me, Huron, South Dakota is Ground Zero for ringnecks. Along with high harvest numbers (10 birds for an average 4.5 days hunted in pandemic year 2020), Beadle County’s seat has an ace up its sleeve: 124,000 acres of public access within 60 miles. It’s at a nexus of federal, state, and private land open to hunters. There’s a diverse mix of habitats from tall-grass prairie to marsh, shelterbelts to creek bottoms and cropland. Add creature comforts including retail, restaurants, campgrounds and hotels. The gravy on your spuds is a savvy- yet-small-town culture that embraces pheasant hunting, visiting hunters, and their economic benefits. They even celebrate every November with a Ringneck Festival and Bird Dog Challenge, should you want a little friendly competition and camaraderie. There is a sense of community not found in bigger towns and urban centers—a breath of fresh air many of us seldom get in the workaday world.

What To Do When You Get There

Once you’re settled on a destination, it’s time to start your homework. A Google search of “Walk-in hunting (state)” should get you to the right pages. Get the online maps, hard copies of the state’s hunting atlas, the mobile app if there is one. Read everything you can get your hands on. Pay particular attention to off-hand comments in online forums, read between the lines in social posts, suss out the subtle hints that might give you more specific locations. Get on the phone, early. Talk with chambers of commerce, biologists, and the clerk at your hotel. Some of them are hunters, some “hear things,” some will do their darndest to steer you away from their honey-holes. I once had a state biologist insist there were no birds on a sliver of walk-in ground until I found him there later in the week with a limit in his bag. Trust, but verify.

Designate one hard copy of the hunting atlas as your master. Figure out the color scheme, keep it updated based on your research. Make sure you have all public lands and walk-in ground identified, including waterfowl production areas, public-school-fund land, Corps of Engineers and more obscure public agencies’ properties. Bear in mind that online mapping apps are notoriously tardy in updating land status, especially walk-in properties that might not join the program until August. Talk with the chamber of commerce, which may have a vest-pocket list of landowners who welcome hunters, some for free and others for a small fee.

Then, start routing your hunts. I’d rather hunt than drive—maybe you, too. So, I’ll take a quadrant and plot a drive that has several public-access spots in a concentrated area. When one doesn’t produce, it’s easier to punt if your next destination is just a few miles away. Bear in mind that enroute to your next potential honey-hole, new ground may have joined the access program at the last minute, so watch for signs.

Here’s one example: I was chugging toward a rolling prairie walk-in parcel when a passing glance spotted a Pheasants Forever pickup. I backed up, sauntered over to the biologist loading his gear, learned it was the newest property in the access program and I was welcome to hunt. An 800-yard walk put one pheasant in the bag and a big red circle on the map.

How To Hunt Public Land Pheasants

Once you’ve sketched out a rough itinerary, scout. Late afternoons when the dogs are resting and your feet are crying for relief, climb back in the truck and check tomorrow’s destinations. I’ve saved hours of aggravation by discovering closed roads and flooded fields the night before a hunt. I’ve also found back doors to popular walk-in areas where nobody else was parked.

One day, gale-force winds pushed most hunters to the taverns, making up stories and enhancing their shooting skills. I had a young dog that needed work and found a square of conifers that tamped the wind down to a gentle breeze on a walk-in spot not four minutes from town. One pheasant hunkered under a small cedar tree, pinned by my wirehair. Lucky for me, that bird jinked downwind into my shot string. We found a pair in the low-lying cattails on the other side of a dike that held back water—and wind.

So, keep an open mind and zig when others zag as you seek tomorrow’s Valhalla. Once your hunt is reconnoitered, have a beer and relax. Go to bed early, for in the morning we hunt.

Pheasant Hunting Strategy & Tactics

Arrive early. Be willing to walk. Get creative. If you choose your destination wisely, there are plenty of places to hunt, so don’t fret when you find a truck idling in the parking area waiting for shooting hours to start. Circle the area, find another entry point. Working ten percent harder than everyone else distinguishes a pleasant walk from a tailgate photo opp.

Give other hunters plenty of room, moving on if you’re in doubt about the area’s capacity. Remember, though, if you can comfortably slide in, they may push birds your way. Hunt the covers lazy or naïve hunters ignore: shelterbelts and woodlands, edges of unharvested crops, tangles, gullies and patches far from the beaten path. I once jumped three different birds from a flooded prairie nobody else was willing to slosh through. Missed them all—who’s expecting roosters in a swamp?

Hunt the waning minutes of the day when everyone else is already astride a bar stool. Hit the edges between private and public land, especially early and late when birds are moving to and from overnight roosts. Hunt from the middle outward when others have pushed birds in, or vice-versa if you’re the latecomer. And just because it’s a waterfowl production area doesn’t mean pheasants aren’t welcome. Dawdle on the high grassy spots for a sharp-tailed grouse that will jolt you from your reverie.

Sometimes, working ten percent harder means biting your tongue as you trudge through a dusty, overgrazed pasture. Your trek might be rewarded at the other end by a lush swale or shelterbelt invisible to passers-by.

Be nice, and you never know what might develop. I stopped at one of the myriad four-way intersections near Huron, waving through the guy to my right. He waved me through. Rinse. Repeat. Twisting the key, I shut off the truck and walked over, admiring his dog trailer. “Where you headed?” he asked. I showed him the blue patch on my map and he asked, pointing, why wasn’t I just going to that corner right there? Simple, I said, showing him it was private.

“Yeah, it’s mine. Let’s go.” And we did, finding a melanistic bird and beautiful habitat. I also made a couple new friends all because I was well prepared, flexible, and open-minded. Are you?