I am not a political analyst, and it is not my job to discuss politics. I will do my best to write about the outdoors, not politics, in this new year. Having said this, I want to deviate for a moment as there is a point I want to touch.
Just before the Thanksgiving weekend Christmas shopping got underway, there was a story in the paper about how much the average adult spends on Christmas gifts. I was shocked. People are far more generous than I imagined. Then it went on to talk about how much people spent on themselves for Christmas. It was in the $400 range. I've never spent money on myself for Christmas, but if I did, it wouldn't be on clothes. I'm thinking more in the line of something firearms-related.
Deer season is important to me, and we are currently in the midst of our South Dakota deer hunting season. West River Rifle ended Nov. 20, but East River Rifle runs through Sunday, and then resumes with antlerless tags on Dec. 31 through the Jan. 8. Archery, as well as Muzzleloader, runs through Dec. 31, and then continues from New Year's Day through Jan. 15 with antlerless tags.
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.