Bison Hunting at Vermejo: A Conservation-Driven Harvest
Standing on the prairie at first light on Vermejo, I felt the wind press through my jacket and into my chest, as if the land itself was reminding me to breathe. The grass rolled in slow waves, and somewhere in the distance the bison rumbled a deep, steady thunder that I felt as much as I heard.
In that sound, I felt history. Not the kind you read about, but the kind that moves under your feet.
I didn’t come here just to harvest an animal.
I came to stand inside a tradition.
Preparing for the Hunt
We gathered in the dim light before sunrise. Watching the herd move, we stood shoulder to shoulder, speaking quietly, checking rifles, sharing a quick laugh and a small smile that carried more meaning than words. There’s something about preparing for a hunt that removes pretense. We weren’t thinking about work or other distractions. We were thinking about responsibility. That shared understanding pulled us closer together.
When I finally saw the bison clearly, broad and steady against the prairie, I felt both awe and humility. It was impossible not to. These animals once shaped the entire American West. To pursue one within the conservation mission of Ted Turner Reserves means accepting that I am part of something carefully managed and deeply intentional. I am not taking the land; I am participating in its balance.
When the moment came, my focus narrowed to breath and steadiness. There was no rush in it – only to make an ethical and clean harvest.
Afterward, when I walked up to the animal, the scale of what had just happened settled over me. Up close, the bison’s power was undeniable. The thickness of the hide. The weight of its shoulder is beneath my hand. Remembering what I had been taught to do with every harvest I made throughout my life, I quietly whispered “thank you”. I meant it. I felt it in my bones.
Roots and Legacy
While my friends and coworkers began the work, I stepped away for a moment and called my dad. When he answered, I could hear the pride in his voice before I even finished telling him. I heard my daughters laughing in excitement. For a second, I wasn’t just a hunter on the Vermejo prairie – I was a kid from the Texas panhandle with frozen fingers sneaking Cheetos in a deer blind, losing the fight to stay awake, and unknowingly sharing a milestone bigger than me.
That call grounded me in something even deeper than tradition; it reminded me where my own roots began.
Then the real work started.
The Real Work
Kneeling in the cold grass, my hands stiff in the morning air, we worked carefully and deliberately. The smell of earth and sage mixed with the sharpness of iron. Every movement mattered because every part of this animal mattered.
And I wasn’t alone at that work. We worked together lifting, holding, and steadying. When the task was heavy, someone stepped in without being asked. When something needed to be done, it was simply done.
In those moments, camaraderie wasn’t a concept – it was an action. It was trust. It was knowing that the people beside me understood the gravity of what we were doing and carried it with the same respect. We earned this harvest together.
From Prairie to Table
As I think about the months that followed, I see my family gathered around the table. I see friends accepting packages of meat with gratitude. I see meals shared, stories told, how laughter filled the room. This single pound of the bison provided nourishment for so many of us.
But more than that, it carries memories. Every bite reminds me of the wind on the prairie, the weight of my hand on that thick hide, and the responsibility I accepted in that moment.
Why This Hunt Still Matters
For me, this hunt was about more than filling freezers. It was about stepping into a lineage of providers. It was about honoring an animal that once sustained entire peoples. It was about strengthening the bonds between those who stood beside me in the grass that morning. And it was about participating in a conservation story that proves stewardship and hunting can coexist with integrity.
When I close my eyes, I still hear the herd in the distance and feel the prairie wind against my face. I am grateful. I feel grounded. I feel connected – to the land, to tradition, to my family, and to the people who share both with me.
That is why this bison harvest at Vermejo continues to matter to me.
About the Author
Brittney Foster is the Hunt Administrator for Turner Ranch Outfitting. She is based at Vermejo, the largest Turner property spanning 558,000 acres in northern New Mexico and southern Colorado. Contact Brittney at hunts@vermejo.com.
Experience a Conservation-Driven Bison Hunt
If you're ready to pursue a bison hunt rooted in stewardship, tradition, and ethical harvest, Turner Ranch Outfitting can guide you through the experience.