I could care less about your love life, net worth, or collection of toys, but if you're a good fisherman/woman, I'd like to take a peek into your tackle box. Tell you what. I'll show you mine if you show me yours.
If life were a round of golf, I'd be putting on the 17th green. But you know what? That 18th hole could be very interesting with a dogleg, sand traps, trees, water, and a sloping green.
When Brian Maas, of Parkston, first let me know about the Sinkebeil wolf a few weeks ago, he sent me some photos that were not used with my column or in the stories that followed in newspapers, on television, and Facebook, etc. Pictured on one of those photos was the wolf lying next to a coyote and a fox. Jim Sinkebeil and Jim More bagged more than the wolf that morning.
As you read today's column, I'll be West River deer hunting in Lyman County. It's new country for me, I'm excited about it, and I'll write about that next week. Because readers occasionally ask about our most recent hunting trip to Argentina, I'd like to touch on what wasn't covered in the June/July columns. I am reasonably certain that most hunting trips to Argentina involve wing shooting for waterfowl,
The rifle deer season is fast approaching, and it got me to thinking that I've been at it for over 50 years. It amounts to well over 100 deer in the bag and a wealth of experiences. If I were asked to offer just one bit of advice, what would it be? Let's start with this. Next to your rifle, what's the most important piece of equipment one can carry on a deer hunt? A good knife? Binoculars? Water and a pocketful of candy bars? I would vote for my collapsible tripod. Col. Charles Askins may have been the finest offhand rifle shot the world has ever known. It is
As I’ve mentioned in the past, the South Dakota Department of Game, Fish and Parks is proposing a change in the deer license application process for 2019. There are no changes for 2018, and the applications are already out with the first deadline being July 20 for Black Hills and West River Deer.
From the late 1970s until about six or seven years ago, Dave Isebrands and I headed down to river after supper two or three times a week through the month of May and nailed the walleyes on a regular basis. We fished from about 7:30 p.m. until dusk, and we fished from the bank. Occasionally we went on a Saturday morning and fished from first light until we had our limits. It didn't take very long.
On Jan. 20, my son-in-law Tom took me ice fishing on Wisconsin's Lake Petenwell. Over the holidays, he had taken a 28-inch walleye from Petenwell, and that no doubt motivated our return. Petenwell, a Wisconsin River impoundment, is more than 30 miles long. Even though we arrived before sunup, the lake was already dotted with hundreds of vehicles clustered in "ice villages" of 30 vehicles here and perhaps another 40 one-mile to the north. Towns of ice anglers were spread across the vast lake.
I recently dropped in at the Burke Coffee Haus, and joined a few friends where the topic of conversation was catfish. Though they enjoyed catching and eating walleyes, I just couldn't fathom why anyone would prefer walleyes to catfish. Their enthusiasm made me want to go home and pull the boat down to the river.
During much of my life as a hunter, I held a not so enthusiastic view toward hunting "introduced" or non-indigenous game in their new, adopted environment. With my narrow viewpoint, I felt that if God didn't put them there, they didn't belong there.