Once upon a time in Northern Colorado—back when rotary phones were cutting-edge—you’d trip over a pheasant walking to school. Now? Try finding one that didn’t hitch a ride out of town. The Colorado Sun just dropped an article chronicling how wild turkeys have become the new backroad hazard in places like Greeley and LaSalle. Written by some intrepid nature tracker (probably dodging birds en route), it paints a picture of changing wildlife patterns where gobblers thrive and pheasants… ghosted us.
The Bullet Point Brief
- Pheasants are missing in action—either retired early or relocated to Cancun.
- Wild turkeys, meanwhile, are multiplying like bureaucrats at a zoning hearing.
- Habitat changes, weather shifts, and predator imbalances are likely suspects—but hey, let’s blame it all on climate change because that’s trendy now.
- Locals in places like Greeley can’t back out of their driveways without playing dodge-the-turkey.
- Birds aside, something deeper’s going on here with our land, our environment, and stewardship nobody wants to talk about.
My Bottom Line
I grew up around LaSalle—and let me tell you, seeing pheasants was about as common as spotting tumbleweeds. Every ditch had one. These days? It feels like they all got tapped for witness protection. And now every time I take the truck down a farm road, I’m more likely to get sucker-punched by a wild turkey than spot one of those beautiful ringnecks my granddad used to brag about bagging.
Here’s what bugs me: folks act shocked when landscapes change after decades of urban sprawl, hayfield drainage stupidity, and environmental policy written by people who couldn’t identify bird poop from pudding. Pheasants need cover crops and consistent food—and when you bulldoze the habitat so a mall can pop up next to your Tesla charging station, maybe don’t act surprised when they disappear.
Now listen—I’m all for land use that balances growth AND grit. But we’ve pushed nature too far on both extremes: either we smother it with concrete or drown it in eco-regulation so dense even turkeys need permits to show up for breeding season. God told us to be stewards of His creation—not saboteurs or sanctimonious tree-huggers with zero dirt under their nails.
We can restore balance—hell yes we can. But first, we’ve gotta admit that flimsy policies passed by Denver elites who wouldn’t survive five minutes outside their Whole Foods bubble ain’t cutting it. It’s time for practical conservation led by ranchers and farmers—not latte-sipping climate consultants who think “field dressing” means putting clothes on corn.
