The UWC North American Waterfowl Grand Slam has sent me to Texas hunting the Gulf of Mexico, to the Pacific Northwest hunting Cacklers in Oregon, to the Bearing Sea hunting King Eiders on St. Paul Island and numerous destinations in-between. Every trip puts me one step closer to finishing off the slam with the ultimate goal of harvesting one of each of the 41 species on the list. My journey has me lead me to the southern prairies of Saskatchewan in pursuit of the affectionately named "ribeye of the sky", the sandhill crane! 

Our trip started with a 14-hour drive from northern Utah. As we were pulling into camp, we saw a field on the southern edge of town loaded with several thousand cranes. One quick call to the landowner and the field is locked in for the next morning’s hunt. 

Day One

We head out into the dark hopeful the birds return this morning to the field we saw them in last night. We work as a team to get the A-frame blinds set up, brushed in and ready. We put out a combination of silhouettes, full body, and stuffer decoys. The stuffers decoys are handmade by our host and owner of Prairie Goose Outfitters, Mark DesRoches. Mark and I met in Alaska while hunting King Eiders and have shared numerous adventures together since. 

It didn't take long after the trucks were moved, and everyone was in the blind for the birds to start flying. Of course, it was before legal shooting time, so we just sat back in awe of these magnificent birds. After what seemed like an eternity, we finally had the clock on our side and legal shooting time was upon us. No sooner than the clock ticked legal we had a large flock working our way. The hype was real, I could barely contain myself. This hunt had been 5 years in the making and I was finally here. 

That first flock came perfectly into the decoys. Our shooting was less than desirable though. That first flock came in and left with only one bird falling. Mark joked, "Okay guys, now that you got that out of your system, let’s try and knock them down next time." That's just what we did. We got a look at them and know knew what needed to be done. 

The next 20 minutes was pandemonium, thousands of birds circling around us at any given time as small flocks swooped into the decoys. We picked them off with absolute precision. Each of us getting our 5-bird limit in about 25 minutes and I accomplished what I came here for. One more species towards the slam was officially a checkmark on the list. 

Seeing these birds up close is like taking a step back in time. I recently read an article that a sandhill crane fossil dated 10 million years old was uncovered and is virtually identical to the birds we are hunting present day. Which essentially boils down to, we are hunting dinosaurs! They have these massive sharp bills, and razor-sharp toes. With a wingspan over 6 feet long, they offer a sporty wing shooting experience. 

That afternoon we split into three groups to scout for the next day. Scouting is essential and the most important aspect of a successful waterfowl hunt. As it so happened, we were in and out of the field so quickly that we left it relatively unaffected and still thousands of birds returned that evening. We made the decision to hunt the same field the following day. As the sun set, we headed back to the house to experience fine dining on the prairie. 

The sandhill crane we hunted that morning was now prepared and on the dinner table. Teriyaki crane and Chow Mein noodles! The "ribeye of the sky" lives up to the rumors. It was one of the finest wild game meals I have had to date. Four birds fed six grown men an all-you-can-eat buffet and still had some left over! 

Day Two

The morning presented us with an unexpected wind.  As legal shooting time came, we still hadn't seen a single bird in the sky. All we could do was wait to see if we made the correct choice to hunt this field again. The answer to our question came sooner than expected because almost simultaneously the wind stopped blowing and the birds exploded into sight. I would say even more birds than the day prior. Bigger flocks and more committed than the day before they wasted no time getting into shooting distance. 

Our aim was on fire, and we picked flock after flock until we had our 20-bird limit down and again before the sun came up. This time it took us only about 20 minutes or a bird a minute! As is the standard out here on the prairie, we decided to get out of the field and get to scouting for the next day. 

We decided to drive about 45 minutes from where we have been hunting looking for a combo hunt. The ideal hunt for our final day would be a field hosting both cranes and Specklebelly geese. We put a lot of time behind the windshield looking for the final day combo hunt but couldn't find a viable option that would stack up to what we had experienced the first two days. 

That is until about an hour before nightfall we found a field that was just black with cranes. Thousands and thousands of cranes using a single field. It was deafening when they picked up for the evening to head to their roost. A single sandhill crane is loud on its own, now add 5,000 more and it has a way of sending chills up your back. 

The field we found them in is a new area with no contacts to the landowners, so we start knocking on doors asking for information. A few conversations later and we found ourselves at the doorstep of the landowner. Mark secured permission from the landowner, and little did he know it would be the best thing that could have happened. 

We head back to town for yet another crane feast. This time we had what Mark has affectionately named "Crane Candy" it is best described as a breaded orange chicken remix. The table fare alone is enough to make a guy want to come hunt cranes on an annual basis. 

The Grand Finale

With how well the previous two days went we were already feeling pretty spoiled but had hopes to finish with a bang. As soon as it started getting light, we were absolutely COVERED in cranes. They were flying in from every direction. So many birds we could hardly communicate with each other over the sound of the cranes. We had birds down in the decoys all over we didn't even have time to go get them before we got our limit. Sub 17 or 18 minutes into the hunt and we were done. 

We all piled out of the blind and scattered to go collect birds. As I make my way to one, I notice this one was special. This one was banded! I let out a yell to the other guys, “We got a BANDED CRANE!” Now if you're familiar with what a bird band is then you already know how special they are. However, Crane bands are so rare that most people will never even see one, let alone harvest it themselves. 

Usually what happens when a band goes down is if only one person shot at the bird, it’s pretty obvious who gets it. However, given how chaotic the morning was there would be no way to determine who shot it. In that case, what people usually do is draw straws or pull shells from a hat to decide. There was no discussion of this we just enjoyed the moment, gave high fives, and soaked in the moment that likely will never happen to us again. 

While Mark was getting the truck, we collectively decided there would be no straws pulled, no shells drawn, it would simply be Mark’s Band. He has shot well over 1,000 cranes in his life and has never even seen one. He was far more deserving and had put in more work to get this hunt put together than all the rest of us combined. When he returned, I had the distinct honor of giving him the band along with the news that it was his. It pulled emotions from him I had never seen before. To say he was grateful would be a huge understatement. 

Back at the house we reported the band. The bird was banded as an adult in 2003! Cranes take two years to reach adult hood so that means this bird was born in 2001 or earlier. ARE YOU KIDDING? A bird that had been carrying a band around for 20 years!? Unbelievable ending to an incredible trip! 

When I first started taking waterfowl hunting seriously, I didn't really have intentions of pursuing the Waterfowl Slam, but trips like this almost ensure that I will complete it someday. The Slam forces you to hunt across the country and have experiences like these that you otherwise wouldn't have in your home marsh. I’ve made lifelong friends in pursuit of waterfowl and with single digits remaining, I look forward to the adventures yet to be had on my journey to complete the UWC North American Waterfowl Grand Slam.