A Skunk to Remember: Hunting With The Man Who Brought Turkeys Back to Southern West Virginia

I graduated from West Virginia University in May 2015 with a Wildlife and Fisheries Management degree. Back then, my career aspirations were pretty straightforward—land a job with the state, maybe become a biologist managing a Wildlife Management Area (WMA). However, as a wildlife management intern at RD Bailey WMA in Wyoming County, WV, I had the privilege of working under Travis Bowman, who forever changed how I thought about land stewardship. He was the first to suggest that I could do more as a private land consultant than I ever could working for a state agency, and while it took me a while, it was an idea I ran with.

Travis was obsessed with turkey hunting. Every project we worked on at the WMA—from marking timber for sale to improving habitat with food plots and timber stand management—had wild turkeys in mind. He lived and breathed turkey habitat, and after a long summer of hard work, he offered me a chance to come back in the spring and chase the birds I had spent months helping to manage.

On my way south from Morgantown, Travis casually mentioned that I’d be sharing the personnel station with someone else. I didn’t think much of it—until I pulled in and saw an older man sitting on the tailgate of his truck, glassing deer with a pair of tiny Vortex binoculars. I stepped out of my FJ Cruiser and immediately recognized him—Curtis Taylor, the Chief of the West Virginia Division of Natural Resources—the guy in charge of the entire state’s wildlife program.

Over dinner, Curtis started telling stories about growing up in a state without turkeys. Back then, a fresh deer track was enough to make the newspaper's front page, and in an effort to provide more hunting opportunities, the state had even gone so far as to introduce Eurasian wild boar to the landscape. Imagine that—West Virginia was once so devoid of game that they had to import pigs from another continent just to give hunters something to chase.

But then he talked about his role in bringing wild turkeys back. While many states relied on trap-and-transfer programs from other regions, West Virginia’s initial restoration efforts in the 1950s focused on capturing birds from the state’s remaining strongholds in the eastern mountains and relocating them to areas where they had disappeared. He described rowing a boat across RD Bailey Lake, a dog crate full of wild birds in tow, ready to release them into a landscape that hadn’t heard a gobble since Daniel Boone. He even laughed about having to create a layer of plausible deniability when locals started hearing turkeys for the first time, confused about how they suddenly appeared in the hollers.

I was listening to this story from the man who had personally helped bring turkeys back to the state while sitting in a place that only held birds because of his efforts. The next morning, I set out on my first turkey hunt with him.

We didn’t kill a bird that day, but I didn’t care. I heard my first turkey drum, felt that deep thump in my chest, and was instantly afflicted with the same turkey-hunting bug that had infected Travis.

While I’m uncertain whether the initial birds came via NWTF, the organization has since provided—and continues to provide—effective support to state and federal agencies managing wild turkey populations in West Virginia. Their work has been instrumental in improving habitat and ensuring the sustainability of turkey populations nationwide.

Last week, I was at the NWTF Convention in Nashville, surrounded by thousands of people who care as much about these birds as Curtis did back then. NWTF’s mission hasn’t changed—protecting, restoring, and improving wild turkey habitat is still their priority. But in a world where turkey populations face new challenges, their work is more important than ever.

I’m hoping to dive deeper into this story—interview Curtis and explore the details of West Virginia’s restoration efforts—for a longer piece in Turkey Call magazine (do any NWTF editors subscribe to my newsletter?). But for now, I wanted to share this moment, this hunt, and this realization: We are only one generation removed from a time when turkeys were a rarity in West Virginia. And if we’re not careful, history can repeat itself.

If you’re passionate about wild turkeys, consider supporting NWTF. They’re why many of us wake up to gobbles in the spring.

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