ShopPosts Tagged ‘Fishing’
Fly Fishing Idaho’s South Fork – A wing shooter gives it a try
Wednesday, July 28th, 2010
PF Editor Herwig on his first fly fishing expedition for Upland Tales magazine, PF’s youth pub, on the South Fork of the Snake River in Idaho. (photo by Dan Burr)
Last July 17, I found myself in one heck of an idyllic situation: floating in a classic wood drift boat catching brilliantly colored Yellowstone cutthroat and rainbow trout on the South Fork of Idaho’s Snake River.
The South Fork runs hard, high and clear sandwiched between the Gros Ventre Range on the east and the Caribou Range on the west by the Wyoming border.
This was my first time in a drift boat and fly fishing. I had several fish on, one for quite a while – but never boated one. Dang hooks are too small and I got yelled at for reeling. Huh? Hey, I’m from Minnesota. Here we’re used to setting giant hooks in giant fish and muscling them into the boat where they are eyed over for their fillet potential. Grab the butter. These guys throw their fish back. What’s that?
My friend, and longtime PF magazine illustrator, Dan Burr of Tetonia, Idaho, generously provided nearly everything for my trip that day, including expert lessons and lots of muscle power to get us up and down that rowdy, fish-filled mountain river.
While I enjoyed the day immensely, Dan won’t be surprised to hear I won’t be taking up fly fishing anytime soon. I can’t see myself doing anything that would cut into my “trigger therapy” time.
So, at day’s end, I found myself sitting cross-legged on the boat’s bow sans fly rod, meditating over the magnificent scenery drifting by, taking notes for a story in our youth magazine Upland Tales and being thankful I lived to experience such a stupendous day.
Hey, all you hook-heads out there, there’s something new afoot for fishing conservation. Keep America Fishing™ has been formed by the American Sportfishing Association (ASA) to renew efforts to unite the sportfishing industry and the country’s 60 million anglers to keep our nation’s public waters open, clean and abundant with fish. A noble cause, indeed.
Check out www.KeepAmericaFishing.org™ for the latest news regarding efforts to keep our waters accessible and full of yummy fish. Hope they approve of using frying pans full of fillets and creamery butter!
Mom, Happy Father’s Day
Thursday, June 17th, 2010
The author's Mom shows off her shooting prowess.
Here at Pheasants Forever, Rosalie is working diligently on designing a new email blast wishing all the Dads of Pheasants Forever a “Happy Father’s Day.” I’ve also been searching the office for our video camera so Andrew and the new interns can record a Father’s Day tribute video similar to our Memorial Day Storm Report Video (unfortunately, I suspect Anthony has the video gear on vacation with him in hopes of being able to record his first 50 inch northern pike).
In any event, I’ve got Father’s Day on my mind. While my Dad certainly shouldered the majority of my introduction into the outdoors, I think it’s important not to overlook Mom’s role in developing my outdoors lifestyle.
In fact, I’d bet money on the fact that my Mom is the most accurate shot with either a rifle or shotgun in my family. My Mom also boasts the family’s largest brook trout (18.5 inches) and some of the family’s largest whitetail bucks. And, if it weren’t for Mom’s willingness to spend every summer vacation fishing out of a canoe, camping for a week at a time in a tent, or hunting each autumn for ruffed grouse down long-forgotten logging trails, then a lot of my outdoors memories wouldn’t exist.
So, this is in no way a slight on good ole Dad. As I’ve written before, I’m lucky my dad is even alive today considering his brain aneurysm and miraculous recovery. I treasure every grouse woods walk and fishing excursion with my Dad. I’m the spitting image of my old man and pretty proud of it.
However, as I work diligently to recognize the Fathers of Pheasants Forever via email and social networking mediums, I would also like to give a shout-out to the ladies. On this Father’s Day weekend, thank your Mom AND your Dad for fostering a passion to train bird dogs, flush roosters, and create habitat.
Happy Father’s Day Mom & Dad!
A Moose Stands in the Forest, but You are Not There to See It; Will you Care about Moose?
Tuesday, May 25th, 2010
This calf and cow moose were the first I'd ever seen in the wild.
I spent last Friday in Minnesota’s Boundary Waters Canoe Area Wilderness (BWCA). The trip was part of two FAN Outdoors radio programs sponsored by Ely, Minnesota’s Chamber of Commerce (listen back to Thursday & Saturday’s radio shows by podcast).
Late in the afternoon on Friday, my four person fishing group spotted a calf moose frolicking along the lakeshore in front of an enormous cow moose. These were the first moose I’d ever seen outside of a zoo. Suddenly, moose mattered more to me.
That’s right; the reality of seeing something I “knew” existed had instantly changed my perspective on the creature standing in flesh before me. I had remorse for not reading those various news articles about wolf and moose interactions or moose brain worms. I wished I knew more about the creature standing looking at me.
I always liked the idea of moose. I have even owned some moose pajamas, flannel sheets, and a t-shirt, but immediately I was attracted to the enormity of this mammal, its gracefulness and the clumsiness of the calf. I wanted to join Moose Forever or whatever organization would help create habitat for this massive creature. In the minutes of one encounter, moose mattered more to me.
I had a similar reaction to the Boundary Waters. Sure, I’d seen photos and even looked over a map of the area before, but that was before my paddle had cut through its waters, my fishing lure had been exploded upon by a smallmouth bass, and before my moose encounter. Like the cow and calf moose, the wilderness and waters of the BWCA now mean a great deal more to me.
Smallies like this one exploded on the surface of the BWCA last week.
My question: As a society, do we have to see and experience something to care about it?
- The beauty of a flushing rooster from waving prairie grasses.
- The dance of a booming prairie chicken on their mating grounds (lek).
- The wing beat of a ruffed grouse on their drumming log.
- The duck migration’s landing into a Waterfowl Production Area.
And my follow up question: If indeed society must see and experience these occurrences to care; coupled with America’s well-documented decline in hunter numbers and disconnect from nature, then who will care for the wildlife and bird hunting heritage we have all worked so hard to preserve?
After seeing this moose, I suddenly care about what I can do for the species.
Note: Although I’d not heard of them before, here’s a link to the North American Moose Foundation if you’re like me and are now more interested in helping conserve moose and moose habitat.
Confessions of an Outdoors Napper
Monday, May 24th, 2010
Great pheasant habitat AND fantastic napping destination.
I love the outdoors. I love naps. Combined. You guessed it, I love napping outdoors.
I enjoy hunting and fishing for the exercise and excitement of each activity, but I also value the serenity and relaxation each provide. The chance to get away from my “crackberry” (aka Blackberry) and the demands of our “always connected” culture puts this guy in the perfect frame of mind for a good nap. Today I’d like to share some of my favorite outdoors napping spots.
The Tall Grass Nap
I remember my best tall grass nap like I’ve just woken up from that North Dakota field. Allow me to set the scene: for three days straight, I’d awoke at 4AM, set out 500 decoys for ducks and hunted waterfowl till noon. After cleaning the ducks and having lunch, we’d change into upland clothes and walk miles in search of roosters, Huns, and sharpies till dark. On the fourth day, I’d set off in a direction on my own; opposite the rest of the group. As I disappeared from their view behind the hill, I dropped into the tall grass beneath the sunny blue sky and fell asleep to the cacophony of Sandhill cranes somewhere beyond my eyelids. Outdoors napping utopia!
The Pheasant Hunter’s Truck Nap
Ever walked through miles of cattail sloughs in subzero temps all morning? It’ll wear you out. Follow the cattail march up with a lunch inside your truck at the WMA parking area. With the heater blasting inside the truck and the cold wind blowing outside, it’s the perfect time for your eyes to get heavy.
The Deer Hunter’s Blind Nap
Seriously, who hasn’t dosed off in their deer blind? Artists have memorialized this time-honored ritual of the deer season as often as they’ve painted drop-tine bucks.
The Goose Hunter’s Field Nap
Like the deer hunter’s blind nap, I beg a goose hunter out there to claim never to have fallen asleep in a layout blind after waking up at 4AM to set up 500 decoys.
The Fisherman’s Canoe Nap
The rocking back and forth of the waves, the bright sun shining down then reflecting up off the water, and the sore back of sitting on a metal canoe bench. Lean back onto the canoe bow and drift off with the lapping waters of rejuvenation.
The Dock Nap
With your favorite brew at hand, the sun setting on the horizon and the water splashing all around, who on earth would need a soundtrack of mating whales?
What do you think? Have I missed one of your favorite napping spots, or are you more hard core than I and would never dream of slipping off into REM when there are birds to shoot, bucks to bag and fish to catch?
Photo by Steve Kleist
The Soundtrack of The Great Lakes
Wednesday, May 5th, 2010
A summer outdoors in Michigan always included a fishing rod and Ernie Harwell's voice on the transistor radio
Last night, I lost a piece of my childhood. Ernie Harwell, the Hall of Fame radio voice of Detroit Tigers baseball for 42 seasons, died of cancer at the age of 92.
You see, Mr. Harwell was the voice on the transistor radio every summer night of my youth. He WAS summer in Michigan across Lake Erie, Lake Huron, Lake Michigan, and Lake Superior.
Whether I was fishing for smallies in the Ford River, paddling McKeever Lake in search of a musky, or bottom-bouncing Little Bay de Noc’s drop-off; Ernie Harwell provided the soundtrack of summer in Michigan.
My job prior to joining Pheasants Forever was with the Saint Paul Saints Baseball Club. That job in baseball created the good fortune enabling me to meet Mr. Harwell on two occasions during Tigers’ visits to the Metrodome for Minnesota Twins’ games. On one of those occasions, I was even allowed to sit in the radio booth for an inning as Mr. Harwell broadcast the game. The consummate gentleman, he even gave a shout out to my hometown of Escanaba, Michigan during that broadcast.
Today, I am joining friends at Target Field for the Tigers & Twins matinee game, but my mind will be in a fishing boat as a 9 year old rocking with the waves as my Mom, Dad and brother listen to Ernie tell us how “he stood there like the house on the side of the road and watched that one go by,” or how my childhood hero Alan Trammell’s drive to deep centerfield is “Looooonng Gone!”
I’ve got a bite Dad. It’s a big one. Get the net!
Thanks Ernie.
Author Steven Rinella appearing on FAN Outdoors This Saturday Morning
Thursday, April 15th, 2010
Rinella will talk about his two books on Saturday morning.
I’m very excited to report that author Steven Rinella has agreed to join “The Captain” Billy Hildebrand and me for a conversation on the radio this Saturday morning. Rinella is the author of two non-fiction books; The Scavenger’s Guide to Haute Cuisine was his first and American Buffalo his second.
I read American Buffalo this winter after picking it up during a Christmas shopping binge. The book tells Rinella’s tale of his wild buffalo hunt in the wilds of Alaska with a blow-by-blow account of the buffalo’s remarkable, and often tragic, North American history. His recount of the hunt is an adventure complete with grizzlies, wolves, buffalo chip campfires, and hypothermia.
On Monday, I began reading The Scavenger’s Guide to Haute Cuisine. I’m five chapters in and it’s just as expert of a story. In this book, Rinella finds a hundred year old cookbook and sets out to pull off a three day feast featuring 45 different dishes from the cookbook. The hook; he has to hunt, fish, catch, or gather all the meats for his feast and we’re not talking just about rabbit, pheasant and elk. Nope, his meal consists of snapping turtle, song birds, fish semen, an antelope bladder, and an Alaskan mountain goat to name just a few ingredients. I find Rinella’s philosophy in line with Aldo Leopold, “the father of modern wildlife management.” In particular, Rinella’s view of food as the fruits earned by his hunting and fishing skills. Rinella’s thoughts remind me of Leopold’s “food doesn’t come from the grocery” thinking as described in A Sand County Almanac.
Rinella is also doing some work for the History Channel. We’ll see if this new adventure across America will be turning into book number three.
Please tune into FAN Outdoors this Saturday morning for what should prove to be some provocative conversation on American buffalo, hunting, fishing, wild game cuisine, and the modern conservation movement. Mr. Rinella is scheduled to appear at 6:50AM Central time. You can listen to the show live across the globe at www.KFAN.com or in the Twin Cities at AM 1130 on the radio dial. The show will also be available by podcast after Saturday morning.
Check out this YouTube video interview with Mr. Rinella.
Is Football Killing Hunting?
Monday, March 15th, 2010
The author's nephew Nicholas and brother Matt show off the musky they caught last spring before Nick's baseball practice.
Ever heard a quote like any of these:
- “My coach told me that I’m off the team if I miss practice, so I guess I can’t go deer hunting this year.”
- “I’m playing the guy in first place of my fantasy league, so I can’t go pheasant hunting on Sunday.”
- “Suzy has a softball tournament in California, so no family camping trip this year.”
I continue to hear quotes like these about football, basketball, hockey, and baseball. From practice to road trips, team sports consume the free time once belonging to fishing rods and shotguns.
In all truth, I love my sports experiences. I grew up playing organized baseball, went on to work in professional baseball for a while, and even owned a minority portion of a Northwoods League baseball team for a couple years. I also enjoy owning season tickets to the Minnesota Wild and I avidly follow the Detroit Tigers and Red Wings from afar. Team sports teach discipline, teamwork, and are a lot of fun.
Unfortunately, team sports dominate our free time. From the massive coverage they receive in the media, to the sponsorship dollars spent by corporations at sporting events, to the time our children spend at practice, sports are omnipresent in today’s society.
What’s lost out by the ubiquity of sports? I’d argue the outdoors pursuits of hunting and fishing are the losers to fantasy football and basketball practice.
Do you agree?
Outdoors Troubadours
Monday, February 15th, 2010
This photo has all the makings of a good song - bird dog, young lass, and a guy that likes both.
On a recent road trip, I got to thinking about hunting and fishing references in music. I’m something of a music fanatic. I listen to a wide array of genres and focus on lyrics most of the time when driving down the highway.
It’s actually pretty rare for bird dogs, fishing lures, and flushing pheasants to be referenced in musical lyrics, especially if you throw Brad Paisley out of the mix. It’s also next to impossible to find hunting & fishing not referenced in a metaphorical way to chasing young lasses. Anyway, those observations aside, here’s my top ten countdown for the topic.
Top 10 Songs Featuring a Hunting or Fishing Reference
10. Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy by Big & Rich: Gigging frogs and old bird dogs allow this way over-played song to break into the top 10.
9. All He Wants to do is Fish by The Replacements: Minneapolis grunge pioneers showing off their Midwestern outdoors roots. If they spent more time fishing, I will dare say more of them would still be alive. Great tunes though.
8. Ashes of San Miquel by Roger Clyne & the Peacemakers: This song squeaks into the list because it’s by my favorite band. Don’t let that stop you from giving it a listen. You’ll hear a sentimental tune about a dead hunting buddy and a return visit to a favorite hunting spot . . . sort of.
7. Old Bird Dog by Rhett Akin: It’s a new song that Kenny Chesney and Crossin Dixon have also recorded, but Rhett cracks the trio to win this spot in my countdown.
6. Mud on the Tires by Brad Paisley: Moonlight on a duck blind, catfish on a trot line. The only thing that hurts this song is Brad’s new truck isn’t a Ford.
5. Famous in a Small Town by Miranda Lambert: She just got the first buck of the season . . . wish my name was “Buck.”
4. I’m Still a Guy by Brad Paisley: A fantastic theme song for any hunter or angler.
3. I’m Gonna Miss Her by Brad Paisley: A guy courageously admits to choosing fishing over women.
2. All Summer Long by Kid Rock: Walleyes from the dock in Lake Michigan. I heard this song during the summer of 2008 and thought it was about my childhood growing up fishing on Lake Michigan . . . again, sort of.
1. Fishin’ in the Dark by Nitty Gritty Dirt Band: It’s probably a predictable choice, but give it a listen with a fresh ear. This song is a classic.
Honorable Mention: Keep Fishin’ by Weezer: The only thing about this song having to do with fishing is the title, but I felt compelled to mention another one of my favorite bands in this category, so help me welcome Rivers and the boys of Weezer.
Comic Song Entry: Second Week of Deer Camp by Da Yoopers: The signature song from my Yooper brethren. It’s a hunting season staple in the St.Pierre cd case.
I’m certain that I’ve failed to list a few of your favorites, so drop a comment below with the song title and artist I’m missing.
Ice Camera Addiction
Tuesday, February 2nd, 2010
The narcotic of my new ice fishing addiction is an underwater camera.
I became hooked on ice fishing at 10AM this past Sunday morning. The narcotic of my new addiction is an underwater camera.
Yes, I’m well aware that underwater cameras have been on the market for a good decade. Using marketing terminology, I’m not what you’d categorize as an “early adopter.” I tend to fit the “laggard” profile when it comes to technology, especially as it relates to hunting and fishing. Call me old fashioned, call me intimidated, but I’m not a tech savvy guy and that’s mostly by choice.
But when my good friend “Captain” Billy Hildebrand dropped his underwater camera down that ice hole on Sunday morning my eyes were suddenly opened to the wonders of ice fishing technology. In front of me, I watched my wax worm being sucked into the mouth of a bluegill. I learned what jigging movements would entice the fish to bite, when to set the hook, and what else was moving through the weed beds below.
I learned more about fish in five hours staring into that camera than in any one single outing in my life. And most importantly, gone are the days of wondering if there is anything at all down there, and the nagging question; “am I wasting my time in this spot?” The boredom associated with every other ice fishing trip in my life was suddenly replaced by the instant gratification of a video game. Perhaps this explains the ice fishing boom seen in the last few years. I’m certainly hooked now.
Henceforth, I pledge to never drop another box of egg shells down an ice hole again. Instead, I’m shopping tonight for my first underwater camera.
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