The young wirehair quivered on the bank of a small pond shimmering in the light breeze, tail high and nose vectoring across the water. I slunk toward him, then stood open-mouthed as a green heron flushed from the water’s edge. It was a portent of things to come on this Nebraska trip: wondrous surprises, in a state that doesn’t get near the recognition it deserves from upland bird hunters.

The red-headed stepchild of more notorious upland destinations, the Cornhusker State may well be the mixed-bag capital of the Great Plains. A rich diversity of habitat, and over 1.2 million acres of publicly accessible lands, range across Nebraska including state, federal, and conservation partner lands as well as privately-owned lands enrolled in the Open Fields and Waters (OFW) walk-in program. Those diverse habitats harbor pheasants, bobwhite quail, sharptailed grouse, and greater prairie chicken, and that’s without touching waterfowl.

While the number of huntable species may entice you, there’s more good news: most hunters shrug their shoulders, ignoring Nebraska as an alternative to the Dakotas, Kansas, or even Montana. There are few “welcome hunters” signs, nor the festival atmosphere of some well-known towns in other states, and that’s fine with those who do venture away from those Meccas. There’s seldom a problem finding lodging, camping, or unmolested huntable land. You’ll work for your birds, but that’s the point, right?

A Special Landscape

The Sandhills get most of the press, for their stark landscape and unique geology. Plus, they provide a real shot at both sharptail and prairie chickens (and maybe a pheasant). Massive dunes would look right at home in the Sahara if not for the luxuriant grass that’s taken root. It makes the uphill slogs a little better, but not easy. Walk far enough and you’ll find a shallow, crystalline pond, where water seeps up through porous sand. Much of this intriguing landscape lies within and south of the Valentine National Wildlife Refuge, where there are plenty of walk-in properties. If your priority is sharptail, western Cherry and Arthur counties are good starting points. If chickens are your goal, go east from there. A bonus is ringnecks in riparian areas.

What you won’t see is much evidence of civilization. We hunted four straight days in the Sandhills, and once off pavement, “civilization” was limited to a few creaking windmills and one rusted antique bedspring. Prairie chickens flew wild in the distance, as did most of the sharptail on that late-season hunt, but walk far enough, and you’ll get shots. Beware of heat though, even late in the season, and take advantage of those ponds for your dog’s safety.

It doesn’t get the adoration those other states and adjacent lands do, but chunks of the Nebraska and Samuel R. McKelvie national forests (largely an oxymoron, though there are a few trees) are good starting points. There are two pieces of the Nebraska National Forest; the Halsey portion is contained within the Sandhills region.

Hunting Bobwhite Quail in Nebraska

Bobwhites are a hidden gem in Nebraska. Most attention is directed at the bigger, flashier birds, but in many parts of the state the Open Fields & Water program works to the quail hunter’s benefit. Classic habitat holds birds, so look for timber stands with open ground, tall brush, and occasionally the edges of crop fields. The primary bobwhite quail range encompasses most of Southeast Nebraska and west along the southern border with Kansas.

Bobs aren’t as prominent in western Nebraska, except along the Platte River Valley. But in a good year, populations will swell to huntable levels north and west of their home range, with good populations reaching into the middle of the state. If you’re hoping to bag one outside the primary range, focus on state wildlife management areas. And wherever you hunt, locals will tell you to never drive past a plum or chokecherry thicket without putting a dog on the ground.

Finding and Hunting Ringnecks in Nebraska

The southern panhandle and southwest Nebraska are well-known for high quality pheasant habitat, and higher bird density than most regions. There is a wealth of public access as well. One group of firefighters has been going for as long as I’ve been on television—and someday, I’ll take them up on their invitation to go along!

Lush CRP is a rooster magnet, as are edge habitats. Harvested field edges and “tall stubble” are worth a walk with a close-working flushing dog. If you have a pointer, don’t pooh-pooh the heavy cover, watch for bow waves in the thick stuff that indicates a dog trailing a rooster. Often, my dog will push birds out of the tall cover, we’ll mark down their landing spots and make a beeline for them. Sometimes, there’s a point preceding that raucous, joyous cackle and flush. There might even be a shot and a retrieve … if I’ve brought along a hunting buddy.

Nebraska has turned lemons into lemonade with a unique program linking hunters with farmers willing to cut grain stubble a little higher than average. The state’s “Stubble Access Guide” puts you in tall wheat and milo stubble fields (and associated unfarmable pockets) open to walk-in hunting across portions of western Nebraska through the OFW program. If you’ve ever hunted the stuff, you know it can be more fun than a box of puppies. Popcorn flushes of pheasant coveys challenge shooters, running roosters fluster a dog, and every once in a (long) while, a chicken or sharpie will erupt.

Given the timing of harvest, tall stubble fields typically are enrolled after the printing of Nebraska’s Public Access Atlas. So, a separate publication is offered—as is an online version around the second week of October. The benefits of tall stubble are myriad for gamebirds as well as other wildlife … and bird hunters, too.

The Beauty of Hunting in Nebraska

The after-effect of last night’s skunk visit lingered in the air as we crashed through milo stubble standing almost knee-high. The grain is a delicacy for pheasants and sure enough, that half-section delivered a fat and sassy rooster that rattled stalks as it towered up and away from my dog—and my first crappy shot. He’d led that pup on a merry chase up the rows, with me in hot pursuit, until reaching the roadside ditch where he launched into the cerulean blue sky. The herbal scent of dry corn stalks mixed with coppery blood as I accepted the limp—yet still beautiful—ringneck from my dog.

It doesn’t seek, nor receive, the accolades many other bird-rich states do. But Nebraska offers a laundry list of species, diverse access programs, and one thing those other states don’t have: a very real crack at sweet, sweet solitude.