Last weekend was something of an “old home week” for me as I returned to our nation’s 40th state for the first time in four years, making me realize just how much I have missed pheasant hunting and the warm and generous hospitality of the people.
Walking the corn and grain fields of the Mount Rushmore State and watching assorted half-breed dogs frolic with abandon as they search for a wily cock pheasant which would rather trot adroitly on foot than take flight, causes an adrenalin rush to experience a rooster rush which is the way state officials promote their No. 1 outdoor activity.
While I have had the good fortune to experience several memorable rooster rushes, there have been some forgettable days, but the good memories always trump any off days.
Multiple pheasant mounts in my den confirm some very uplifting days in the past on excursions to a place where neckties are, like Democrats, in short supply.
Years ago, I had the good fortune through a friend to meet the late governor of South Dakota, George Mickelson. I hosted the governor on a trip to the Masters. He reciprocated by inviting me to go on a pheasant hunt with him and encouraging me to bring my friends. Good times and great memories followed, and lasting friendships, too, were highlighted by one with a man named Homer Harding.
Harding was the State Treasurer when Mickelson made his trip to the Masters, and we have remained good friends since. Unfortunately, Mickelson died in a plane crash, but Homer kept inviting me to return to South Dakota for fall pheasant hunting.
Homer gave up pheasant hunting three years ago, but he came and walked around with us one afternoon. Walking has been good for him since he has celebrated 98 birthdays. His wife, Pat, is 94, and they have been married for 77 years. There must be something about the prairie since we interacted with several other nonagenarians on our trip.
Or, perhaps, it could be the water from the Missouri River, which flows by Pierre. On one past trip, we were hunted down by this famous river, which paused my day. As I scanned Missouri’s swift currents, I realized that Lewis, Clark, and Sacagawea had once come that way.
Pierre manages its brushes with celebrity without a lot of emotion. Dances with Wolves, starring Kevin Costner, was filmed in these parts. Joe Foss a decorated World War II fighter pilot was elected governor of the state and later became the first commissioner of the American Football League.
In the fields during pheasant season, he shot with the same dead-eye accuracy that brought him the Medal of Honor for his ability to shoot down Japanese zeros at Guadalcanal.
Brad Reinke, a friend, works the stock market during the day, but he might shoot ducks before work and pheasants before sunset if he chooses. On other days, he might prefer to catch a few walleye before or after work. South Dakotans are hearty, healthy, and happy.
It was nice to hunt again at Etzkorn’s Rooster Ranch, a few miles east of Pierre, where Jay Etzkorn has been our host many times over the years.
The most fun was taking a long-time friend, Truett Jarrard, a retired cardiologist who grew up in Odom in Wayne County, graduated from Georgia, and practiced medicine in Newnan until retirement.
Truett enjoys life to the fullest and is a doting outdoors lover. He appreciates genuine hospitality and South Dakota style and couldn’t wait for dinner time at one of Pierre’s highly regarded steak houses.
We chose Mad Mary’s the first night and Cattleman’s the second. Nobody complained, especially my traveling friend who at the rustic Cattleman’s chose the 16-ounce sirloin. No man has ever been more filled or fulfilled.
In addition, he had the most rewarding outdoor experience: He caught his limit of pheasants every day.