The Snow-White Bird

Lane Taylor, a flooring specialist by trade, has been hooked on turkey hunting since he was a kid. Residing in Venice, Florida, Taylor has a built a great business, and when he’s not helping people with making their dream home become a reality, you can find him in the woods or on the water. Through a mutual friend, Taylor was able to meet Peyton Blanton, another likeminded individual who works hard and plays even harder. With the spring turkey season about to kick off, Blanton, a guide for Outdoor Adrenaline Outfitters, invited Taylor up to Nebraska with hopes of helping him bag his first Merriam’s wild turkey.

Neither man had any expectations other than to enjoy the great outdoors, the comradery that comes with the territory and try their luck at outsmarting an old longbeard. Taylor, having taken several Easterns and Osceolas in his home state of Florida, was excited to hit the ground running in the rolling hills of northeastern Nebraska. In hunting, you never know what’s going to happen any given day.

Setting up in the morning, the two hunters cut into some cedars on the ground and began the first sit about an hour before light. The smell of spring filled their nostrils while a cathedral of turkeys sounded off like the 3D surround sound system in an IMAX film. Taylor’s excitement was evident as he nodded to Blanton, who nodded back in agreement and whispered, “Today you’re going to kill your first Merriam’s!”

Soon the roosted birds flew down merely seconds apart. Birds were everywhere, except they weren’t coming to calls. Multiple hens worked off to the far end of the wood line and disappeared with several toms in tow. Frustrated, the hunters grabbed their gear and headed back to the truck to regroup. By now the wind had started to pick up along with warmer than usual temperatures for April.

Blanton, realizing the morning hunt was a bust, decided to move to another property.

“I hope you like running and gunning brother?” Peyton asked, while he leaned up against the old pickup truck. With their gear dialed in, both hunters stepped off with hopes of getting a tom to fire off a gobble against the deafening sound of high winds among the treetops.

Approaching the top of a ridge, Blanton let out a coyote yip that reverberated across the old creek bottom below. Faintly, he got an immediate response back from a lone gobbler. Reaching for his binoculars, the seasoned guide scanned the opening below. There at the far side of the clearing was a stark, white tom tending eight hens. Dropping to their knees, Blanton gasped in disbelief. Neither man could believe what they were seeing.

“Lane, drop your vest and let’s crawl down the hill,” Blanton said while motioning toward the bottom below. Taylor cradled his shogun while staying close to Blanton’s side. “Lane, this is going to happen fast, so be ready. Remember to take your time,” Blanton whispered.

Both men began to crawl on their hands and knees toward the mystical bird in full strut hoping he wouldn’t see them. Taylor moved into position, using cover afforded by several downed trees and set up alongside an old oak tree. As the first set of calls reached the eardrums of the flock, several hens lifted their heads and looked in the direction of the ruckus, but soon lost interest and went back to feeding. The white tom, however, peered over toward the sounds of the damsel in distress, made eye contact with the decoy, and began strutting straight toward it. The white gobbler disappeared behind several downed trees during its march, but Taylor kept his cool even though he couldn’t see anything. Suddenly the snow-white gobbler appeared. “Fifty yards,” Blanton whispered.

Looking intently at the bead on the Browning Max 2, loaded with No. 9 TSS shot, Taylor sat motionless as the white wonder strutted into view. Whoomph! The sound of the shotgun barked, and the white turkey lay still as stone.

Both men jumped up from their seated position and ran toward the down bird, shaking in disbelief at what had just transpired. Taylor just stared at the bird for several minutes before erupting in to cheers and then high-fived Blanton. There, before them, lay a bird that had never showed up on any of the property’s trail cameras. Garrett Bordson, the owner of Outdoor Adrenaline Outfitters: www.outdooradrenaline.com, has had clients hunt this property for the last 21 years, and to his knowledge, not one sighting of a white turkey has ever been made. The odds of finding an all-white Merriam’s and harvesting it in the wild are astronomical.

Taylor has decided to life-size mount his Merriam’s. Cally Morris, owner of Hazel Creek Taxidermy will bring the trophy to life in the very near future! Want to see the finished product for yourself? This bird will be on display at the NWTF Convention and Sport Show in Nashville, Tennessee, Feb. 14-17, 2024.

Editor's Notes:

Merriam’s, Rio Grande or Eastern subspecies? Impossible to tell without a DNA test, particularly in Nebraska, where most gobblers are characterized as hybrids after years of intermingling between subspecies.

It is unclear whether this bird was a true albino (pink eyes) or has a recessive genetic condition called leucism, which results in abnormal pigmentation causing birds to appear patchy, piebald or all white. Albino wild turkeys are extremely rare, and leucistic wild turkeys are nearly as rare – only a handful are harvested each year out of nearly 750,000 nationwide.

Taylor has decided to life-size mount this rare gobbler, with Cally Morris, owner of Hazel Creek Taxidermy, bringing the bird to life in the near future.