Greg Taylor turns farmland into wildlife haven

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By Dave Orrick, pioneerpress.com
Posted: 10/11/2014 12:01:00 AM CDT
Updated: 10/11/2014 10:01:03 PM CDT
Photos: http://www.twincities.com/sports/ci_267 ... o-wildlife

MARSHALL, Minn. -- From a strictly financial standpoint, Greg Taylor readily admits his investment in his land is "a loser."

But you can't put a price on heaven.

And a balance sheet wasn't what was on our minds Saturday morning, when a pair of roosters thundered blue-skyward shortly after shooting hours began.

One of the pair went down, and one yellow Labrador retriever returned to its owner wearing rooster on its face. And so the season began.

Saturday was opening day for pheasant hunting in Minnesota, when perhaps 70,000 hunters and untold legions of dogs took to the fields in search of ring-necked roosters.

Most likely hunted public lands, one of the numerous -- and expanding -- acreages owned by the state or federal government that pepper the landscape across southwest Minnesota, the heart of pheasant country.

Federal excise taxes on ammunition, proceeds from the Legacy Amendment sales tax increase and funds from the state pheasant-hunting stamp are among the sources of money that are allowing these acres to expand.
The inventory of healthy -- and huntable -- public lands is invaluable for the state's pheasant hunting tradition, which is as egalitarian as a sedan, a dog and a 12-gauge pump.

Also essential -- as much for hunting as for the future of our water, birds, bees and butterflies -- are federal and state programs that encourage farming practices that do as little harm to prairie ecosystems as possible, be they through regulations or incentives.

This topic will be front and center in December, when Dayton convenes a state "pheasant summit," which will be more about protecting wildlife habitat than shooting birds.

But then there are other forces at work, albeit on a smaller scale than the decline of protected habitat in the state's pheasant range. (Between 2013 and 2014, there was a net loss of 7,706 acres of wildlife habitat in the Minnesota's pheasant belt.)

Forces such as Greg Taylor.

In 1999, Taylor, who manages residential properties in Marshall, purchased 160 acres -- a quarter section -- of farmland in Lyon County.

Today, most of that land -- which had been drained and fully plowed -- is prairie grasses and wetlands, a haven for ducks, songbirds, pollinators and, of course, pheasants.

While everything Taylor, 66, has put into the property -- not the least of which is a not-yet-completed stone-and-brick farmhouse and bunkhouse destined to be his hunting lodge -- must put the property financially into the red, in fact Taylor's experience is instructive for how habitat can be restored without spending a small fortune.

Shortly after purchasing the property, he sold 47.5 acres of it to a neighboring farmer.

Prairie grasses typify the landscape of 112.5 acres of restored grasslands and wetlands owned by Greg Taylor of Marshall, Minn. Through a combination of his own funds and government subsidies for wildlife habitat, Taylor has converted the former farmland. "And that part should be farmed," Taylor said. "It's flat as a pan and has some of the best soil in the county."

The proceeds from that sale essentially paid for the mortgage and taxes on the remaining 112.5 acres, which he set about restoring. Well, except for the part with the lodge, which features a trap house out back and a pet cemetery out front. Hunting dogs, all named after military officers -- Ike, Marshall and Halsey, for example -- are laid to rest with markers: stars for their field performance and decorations such as the Purple Heart for wounds suffered while hunting. A Vietnam War veteran, Taylor on Saturday hunted in his Army-issued combat boots.

As for the habitat work, he schooled up on programs designed to help landowners protect, enhance, restore or even create wildlife habitat and learned the alphabet soup needed to navigate that world. Among the agencies he dealt with were the National Conservation Resource Service (NRCS), the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service, the Department of Natural Resources and Ducks Unlimited. He leveraged funds from flood-control programs, the Conservation Reserve Enhancement Program (CREP) and Reinvest in Minnesota (RIM).

For example, federal flood-control funds paid for two-thirds of each of three dams on the land. What had been sloping croplands are now wetlands that, with restored prairies, provide habitat for mallards.

In all, the property has 10 dams, many of which Taylor financed himself.
"This one's just a dry pothole most of the year," he said of one as we watched the dogs descend into it. "But it provides a brood of teal every year, so I figure that's worth it."

Wood duck houses are usually in use as well, and we saw at least one squadron working the area. Taylor doesn't hunt the ducks raised on his land -- "Just doesn't seem right. I guess I get too attached to them."

But the pheasants he doesn't mind shooting. "They come in here from all the neighboring fields when they turn to black dirt," he said.

Of course, as many pheasant hunters found out Saturday, many of Minnesota's fields stand unharvested. In Lyon County, while soybean harvest is mostly complete, corn has just begun, and we saw a number of birds heading to or from cornfields as we walked the fields, high-stepped the cattails and poked around trees (many of which were planted by the DNR) with a hunting party of family and friends.

Joining Taylor were his labs Decatur, 8, and Hooker, 2; longtime Marshall-area friends Steve Cashman of West Des Moines, Iowa, and his lab Samson, 11, Jim Anderson of Sioux Falls, S.D., and Scott Hiller of Minnetonka; Taylor's son Rhett, of Marshall; and Taylor's son-in-law, Brandon Deuel, also of Marshall. The group saw eight roosters before lunch and had two in the bag, a count that had Taylor apologizing.

"I don't care if I don't fire a shot," he said. "I just like being out here."

But his labor of love is also labor at times. Like when he decided to undertake spot-treating for invasive plants. "I was out here five days for seven hours a day. I thought I was gonna commit suicide. I thought I'd never get it all done. But you won't find a thistle or a cocklebur."

For others considering a personal habitat restoration, he said it's not to be taken lightly.

"Look, I've been working on it 14 years, so it's work, but it's not insurmountable."