It isn’t quite McElligot’s pool, but Curlew Dam northeast of New Underwood still offers hope to a father and son.

By Kevin Woster

McElligot’s Pool.

It isn’t much on the surface. But, oh my, what a colorful world of angling possibilities waits down below.

Or at least, it might.

That’s what Dr. Seuss character Marco says when approached by a pessimistic farmer at the start of that  wonderful children’s book, McElligot’s Pool:

“Young man,” laughed the farmer, “You’re sort of a fool. You’ll never catch fish in McElligot’s pool.”

The pool is too small. It’s in bad shape. And Marco’s more likely to catch a boot or bottle or can than a fish, the farmer says.

But like most of us in the fishing club, Marco is unwavering in his hope. As he watches his bobber, he describes to the farmer a fantastic array of possibilities in the pool, and ends the book with:

“If a fellow is patient, he might get his wish. And that’s why I think that I’m not such a fool, when I sit here and fish in McElligot’s pool.”

Wait, did I say “children’s book” up above.

I still like to read it.

And I still like to sit and fish, and never feel like a fool.

 

 Picking a single rooster out of the confusion of wings can be a challenge at the explosive end of a sorghum strip at the McManus farm in Lyman County.

By Kevin Woster

Actually, there’s more than three men involved at the McManus place.

There are a couple of sisters, too. And some sons and daughters, nieces and nephews, grandkids and even a bunch of cousins - including a few tag-along Wosters whose mom, Marie, was as McManus as it gets.

Her effusive Irish nephews - Bernie, Larry and Ronnie McManus - are the main men in the family pheasant farm in Lyman County, not far from Medicine Butte and the Catholic cemetery where many McManus and Woster kin are buried.

Their farm is a beautiful mix of trees and grass and sorghum that produces consistently fine pheasant populations. And the hunting? Well, it ranges from really good to purt-near ridiculous. This year it’s the latter.

We love the hunting, of course. And watching the ringnecks flush is worth the trip alone. But the annual connection with family and friends is the best part of all.

And you don’t have to hunt for that.

Year after year, it’s right where it always was.

Top, from  left: Bernie skins a ringneck. Larry celebrates a shot. Ronnie wields a knife at the cleaning tubs.

Middle: A farm cat thinks about cleaning a bird itself. McManus son-in-law Dale Luft of Reliance holds his shot as a hen flushes.

And below, Ronnie “Red” McManus models the latest in appropriate headgear for staying visible in tall sorghum fields. And, of course, more birds erupt from the end of a field.

 

Somethings just get better with time, including this jumping moose, captured about a year ago over in Wyoming by the ever-popular Don Polovich.

By Kevin Woster

OK, Wayne, there you go. The moose is back.

So is Don, at least long enough to send me another digital image of the flying moose, and also give an update on his latest trip west.

How good was the fishing over on the Shoshone? Don says it was so good they lost count of fish, and lost interest in keeping track. Also lost track of the time.

That wasn’t enough for him and his fellow angling vagabond, Paul Stabille (who still owes me another hand-tied KWRAR). So they hit the Bighorn over near Fort Smith, Mont.

Don says: “It was absolutely awesome.”

So good the early departure they planned for their coming-home day got delayed, and they showed up after midnight.

Bleary eyed, but happy.

 

Two important heads in Pierre - the Capitol Dome and new GF&P Wildlife Division Director Tony Leif, who takes over for Doug Hansen, a former Centerville speedster who is now both retiring and retired.

By Kevin Woster

Tony Leif is the new guy in charge of the state Wildlife Division.

And Doug Hansen? He’s out somewhere with a German shorthair or two, bagging some birds.

Or if he’s not right now, he will be.

So now Leif’s the man in charge of the big division with the semi-autonomous budget and the often-edgy relationship with the world. And based on my experience with Leif as an upland bird biologist in Huron and wildlife program specialist in Pierre, I’d expect him to take over for Hansen in a seamless transition.

A graduate of Huron High School, SDSU and Texas Tech-  quite a few years before another outdoor lover, Bobby Knight, got there - Leif started his career as a conservation officer in Freeman before moving into the biology spots.

He’s a very accessible chap. In fact, I’m sure he won’t mind me giving you guys his home phone and cell phone numbers. 

Let’s see, I know they’re around here somewhere…

Just teasin’, Tony.

Tim Thune, left, and brother John, the senator, stop for a photograph Saturday with Tim’s golden retrievers during an opening day hunt on the Jerry Rubendall place near Artesian. (Photo courtesy of Jon Lauck, who also runs a golden retriever when he’s not working as a senior adviser to Thune.)

By Kevin Woster

John Thune was part of the blaze-orange army Saturday, joining his brother Tim  of Sioux Falls, other relatives and some friends for an opening-day ringneck shoot near Artesian.

A KELO TV news crew tagged along on the hunt, hosted by landowner Jerry Rubendall. (Jerry, remember me? I’ve still got shotguns…..)

Anyway, the senator told KELO that when he was growing up in Murdo, the pheasant opener was a “bigger deal than Christmas.” And indeed, it was very much that way in Chamberlain when I was growing up.

Not that we didn’t celebrate Christmas. It’s just that we had help in our pheasant celebration from thousands of visitors.

It’s about shooting birds, of course, this weekend. And it’s about outdoor tourism and millions of dollars. But more than anything, it’s about coming home, seeing friends, sharing time outdoors with family.

The little Thune reunion was duplicated on private farms public hunting grounds across the state Saturday. And there’s more to come tomorrow - with less perfect weather but the same human connections.

 

Former GF&P fisheries chief Dennis Unkenholz of Pierre made good use of his retirement gift in bagging this dandy antelope, with guide help from rancher and former CO Larry Stomprud.

By Kevin Woster

What’s a fish guy to do in retirement?

Pretty simple: go hunting.

That’s not all that Dennis Unkenholz is up to these days, of course. I’m sure there’s yard work to do. And some home repair.

And he probably puts a line in the water from time to time, just to check the GF&P fisheries work from the consumer’s end of things. But after 30 some years of working the technical side of fisheries management for GF&P in South Dakota, Unkenholz is certainly enjoying his first autumn away from the job.

He got some help here in the antelope hunt from former GF&P conservation officer Larry Stomprud - a buddy of Unk’s back in their college days. The rifle also has a retirement role. The .243 and scope were going-away gifts for Unkenholz presented at his retirement party.

I’d like to give you some details on where the hunt took place, but my unnamed source at the McNenny Fish Hatchery didn’t have that. I tried calling Unk today at his home in Pierre but nobody answered.

Yard work? I think not.

 More like pheasant hunting.

 

 Spirit, an appropriatedly named German shorthair, gallops back with a rooster during a hunt at the Dakota Hills Lodge near Oral.

By Kevin Woster

That’s his name, Spirit.

And, man, he’s got it.

Pretty good nose, too. And he’ll retrieve like, well, a retriever.

I met him while doing a story on pheasant hunting at the Dakota Hills Lodge near Oral. And was I impressed.

Strong-legged and strong-willed, he seemed the poster pup of versatile hunting dogs. He even had me second-guessing my inclination to get another springer spaniel.

I love springers, the best pheasant dogs on earth. But as I ponder a return to the hunting-dog world, I also consider straying from the retrieving crowd (I’ve only had Labs and springers) and trying a pointer.

(Keep your powder dry, Schoenbeck. We’ll talk about white Labs later….)

Back to pointers.

Tony Dean recommends pointing labs. He has one. Loves it.

Wickerbill Crist runs an effective mix of English setters and German shorthairs.

Bill Shattuck believes in German wirehairs.

Tom Graslie loves his wirehair Griffon.

I even know people who swear by Brittanies, which gun-dog writer Charley Waterman once compared to “the Easter bunny on amphetamines..”

(Tim, Glenn, come on, just kidding about the Brittany thing..)

So many dogs, so little room in the kennel. What’s a guy to do, other than wait for the Spirit to move him?

Actually, I think he already did.

By Kevin Woster

 Remember that fine bull moose Don Polovich photographed west of Burgess Junction over in the Bighorns not long ago? It could well be fertilizer now, thanks to somebody with more gun than brains.

And Polovich’s pictures might help Wyoming Game and Fish Department investigators figure out who that was.

Don heard that a bull moose had been poached in the same area where he shot his pictures, not long after he snapped the shutter. And the Wyoming Game And Fish investigators were seeking information, including photographs of bull moose in that area prior to the shooting, to help in their investigation.

The poaching occurred on Sept. 9 about 11 miles west of Burgess Junction along Highway 14A in the Bighorns. That’s right in the area where Don saw and photograhed the bulls. He said the big one was regularly visible - and vulnerable.

The slobs removed the antlers, cape and a small portion of back straps of the bull and left the rest to rot. By the time state agents found it, the rest was too far decomposed to be salvaged.

Don suspects that the lame-brained gunners killed the bigger of the two bulls he photographed. You can check out the animal yourself, as shot digitally by Don, by scrolling down to the end of the current threads and clicking on “previous entries.”

It’s a beauty, that bull. Or, at least it was.

 

 Ken Bury of Rapid City shot this 6-by-6 bull elk Oct. 3 south of Deerfield, with assistance from Ryan Ham of Custer.

By Kevin Woster

I’m no elk hunter.

Birds are my thing.

But I have to admit, the sight of a huge bull along the road the other night near Rochford had me understanding the thrill of it all.

It also had Ev Hoyt, who has been hunting in the western parts of the hills, asking me for GPS coordinates for that particular spot. GPS? I don’t even have a cell phone.

Anyway, TIO is open for business in elk stories and photos.

 Fire away. 

The lastest in a long list of tiny fish, this bluegill enters the piscatorial pantheon of the miniature. Eat your heart out Larry Dahlberg.

By Kevin Woster

If you watch hook-and-bullet TV, you know Larry Dahlberg and his “The Hunt for Big Fish.”

Dahlberg travels the world fishing for exotic monsters - rod bending brutes the size of Hampshire sows that sometimes tax him to the point of exhaustion before he finally hauls them in.

Well, I have an answer to Dahlberg’s show: Kevin Woster’s The Hunt for Little Fish.

It’s been going on for years. Only lately have I recognized it for what it is.

My destiny.

I travel the world, in a very limited geographic sense, to battle fish that are often smaller than what most anglers use as bait.

We all have gifts. Dahlberg apparently has his: catching HUGE fish.

I have mine: CATCHING tiny ONES.

Take this latest masterpiece: a bluegill the size of a potato chip. It’s so small its gills aren’t even blue, yet.

Still, it showed the spirit of the lunker when it smacked the beetle-imitation fly I had twitching on the surface of the Cheyenne River below the old Highway 79 bridge.

I caught some bigger bluegills there, too. One might have topped 3 ounces, though I’d need a laboratory scale to know for sure.

But those bigger blues aren’t my story. My story is the little ones.

Just how small can I go?

That’s what the hunt is all about.