It recently occurred to me that all of us have made or are making decisions about how dependent on technology we want to be. This is especially true of deer hunters. The technology we use is a choice. When it comes to computers and the internet, I don't believe young people have much choice in technology, as education seems to revolve about it. We elderly people may choose to turn our backs to it. The same is true of modes of entertainment and communication. I don't carry a cell phone. I don't own an iPod. Personally, I hate what these things are doing to us.
Maybe you know about the banana thing, maybe you don't. It goes way back to a ship whose entire crew was killed by a weird bacteria that supposedly came aboard on some bananas. Since that time, bananas are taboo on fishing boats. If a fishing excursion begins badly, say poor fishing, engine problems, bad weather, etc., the captain is likely to question passengers about bananas or anything banana related being on board. If there are, the related items are likely to go overboard. We're not just talking bananas.
If I were to list my reasons for being a South Dakotan, I'll admit that our deer hunting is one of them. It doesn't rank as high as friends, a low crime rate, a conservative atmosphere or a more relaxed pace of life, but the deer are right up there. Because of archery and muzzleloader tags, we are guaranteed at least two hunts annually, and these can be in the counties of our choice. While my last statement cannot be disputed, not everyone feels as I do. A recent article in the NRA's American Hunter magazine discussed how many of our 320 million American citizens were hunters.
I've never been to a bachelor party, but the Twin Pines Resort on Garrison, Minn.'s, Lake Mille Lacs, suggests that one of their fishing party launches would be a great place to hold such an event. Based on the Tom Hanks movie, I picture a bachelor party as being free flowing liquor and dancing girls. I don't know that spinning rods and walleyes fit very well. Tom, my Wisconsin son-in-law, recently took our grandchildren to Twin Pines for a walleye outing. Garrison is a seven-hour drive from Mitchell or an hour north of the Twin Cities.
In spite of the excellent fishing we relish in our home South Dakota, I always enjoy a trip to the North Country. Ahh, the scent, the woods, golden walleyes or sighting a moose. Our recent Kwinagans adventure was one of the best. Eight of us, including locals Dick Crabtree, Francis Doom, Jeff Doom and Roger Schroeder left Jeff's driveway in a comfortable motor home around 4:30 p.m. on July 5. We reached the Canada border near Pembina, N.D., via I-29 around midnight, and worked our way across Ontario in a northeasterly direction by way of Kenora, Vermillion Bay, Dreyden and Sioux Lookout.
Some years ago, the late Bob Wiechmann and I decided to test our pronghorn antelope hunting skills in Harding County. We chose the second weekend, as it would hopefully be easier to get hunting permission. After spending all of Saturday seeking a place to hunt, we finally succeeded just after sundown.
When it comes to fishing or hunting, I'm somewhat of a Jekyll and Hyde personality. One side of me covets fine firearms and adventure in faraway places while my other self enjoys the simplest pleasures. Such was the case last Monday afternoon. I put some night crawlers in a cooler with a can of pop, hooked up the boat, and headed for the boat ramp beneath the dam at Pickstown. Shouldn't I have chosen a boat ramp above the dam on Francis Case? After all, the sign in Abby's bait shop said that the walleyes had finally arrived.
When I look at the opportunities we South Dakotans have when it comes to fishing, hunting and outdoor activities in general, I feel fortunate. Regarding my feelings, I've become somewhat of a South Dakota cheerleader. Do I get overzealous or too carried away about our state? I really don't know. It's no secret that our famed pheasant hunting has come under fire in recent years.
I’m not very happy with myself right now. I broke a promise, got caught up in something and lost control, and ultimately spent more money on something than I ever...
Some weeks back I wrote about a Lake Andes area man finding the remains of a rusted Swiss Vetterli rifle in a hay field. This led to speculation on my part about the arms owned and carried by the early settlers of our general area. An interested column reader referred me to the book Old Jules by Mari Sandoz as frequent references were made to period firearms. Jules, Mari's father, was a Nebraska homesteader. Our Wagner library was able to get the book for me. In 1884, Jules Sandoz filed a claim in the Valentine, Nebraska land office and homesteaded in the panhandle of northwest Nebraska.