State Game, Fish & Parks Commissioner Jeff Olson practices what he preaches about enjoying the great outdoors while also giving Rapid City creekside lawyer Jeff Fransen a lesson in the art of proper fly presentation on Rapid Creek.

By Kevin Woster

Well, if you can’t catch the great golden salmon of the prairie, I guess a 14-inch rainbow will do.

That seems to be what Jeff Olson - a Rapid City dentist who never smiles so widely as when he holds a living fish or a dead duck- is thinking as he poses for a picture snapped by Jeff Fransen.

All told, it made for a reasonably good time, on one of the recent decent days outdoors.

You can see Olson in GF&P action Thursday afternoon and Friday morning at the State Game Lodge in Custer State Park, where the GF&P Commission will, among other action, propose seasons on lions, West River deer, Black Hills deer and other game.

Olson will be there without his legal adviser.

Speaking of Fransen, how did he do in the angling day in question? Can’t say. He threatened a restraining order.

And flyfishing lawyers are not to be riffled, er, trifled with.

 

Who’s the mystery man holding that beautiful golden salmon - or carp - in full bugle? It’s Caster Don, a flycasting shutterbug and carp-fishing purist who is concerned about the use of certain low-brow baits on his most beloved scum-sucker.

By Caster Don

I couldn’t help but notice that the carp you caught down below was on a jig with a soft plastic tail attached. It must have been by accident because no self-respecting fisherman would cast such a barbaric offering to such a magnificent fish.

It was nice that you gave the carp some good PR, but for me there is only one way to cast to such a glorious fish: cast a dry fly.

  Skip the doughballs, corn or other “baits?”

I have been known to cast a nymph or streamer, but my favorite is a dry fly when the golden prairie salmon are feeding on top.  Something along the lines of a grasshopper pattern. 

Carp on a fly. It doesn’t get any better.

(CD: I feel appropriately sanctioned. May the merciful gods of carp and flyfishers forgive me. K.W.) 

One of the world’s most contemplative sport fish seems deep in thought prior to being returned to the waters of Angostura Reservoir.

By Kevin Woster

The boys butchering walleyes at the fish-cleaning station were disappointed to hear that I hadn’t massacred the carp.

Or at least left it gasping for water up on the shoreline.

“Got about an 8-pounder down there,” I said, opening the conversation with a nod at the half-dry marina near Angostura’s north shore ramp below.

They looked up, skeptically.

“Carp,” I said, assuming my best Brad Pitt, A River Runs Through It pose.

They didn’t grin. In fact, they frowned.

 ”Leave it up on shore?” one asked.

“Naw,” I said. “Turned her back. Pretty nice fish, though.”

The group’s eyeballs moved as one to settle on a spot somewhere just below my chin - sort of looking at me, but not really.   One guy started to speak, glanced at his pals, went back to the solemn slicing of walleye.

Probably figured a guy who turns carp loose is beyond educating, and probably beyond redeeming. Might even be deranged.

He might be right, on all counts. But I don’t kill carp, not unless I’m heating up a smoker somewhere or looking to use up a gallon or so of BBQ sauce. Otherwise, what’s the point?

Does anybody seriously believe that assassinating old buglemouth once in a while will  somehow control the population? All it does is mess up the shoreline and punish a fish for being itself.

And what’s that? It’s a wild, powerful muscle flexing at the end of your fishing line.

I like that.

I can’t imagine who wouldn’t. 

By Kevin Woster

Digestive irritant. That’s what Avitec is, if you happen to be a hungry ring-necked pheasant with an appetite for corn seed.

According to my main jig-fishing man Joe Kafka of Associated Press, state Agriculture Secretary Bill Even has issued an emergency OK for corn farmers to add a pinch of Avitec to their corn-planting recipes this year to protect the valuable seeds from marauding pheasants.

Avitec apparently will irritate the digestive tracks of pheasants in an aversion lesson aimed at persuading them to dine elsewhere.

Sounds reasonable, if you’re a corn farmer protecting your crop.

But am I the only one who wonders if the chemical treatment might have other effects on the state bird -especially during the breeding, nesting, chick-rearing season?

I’m assuming Avitec has been thoroughly vetted by GF&P staffers prior to Even’s exemption.

And I know that Gov. Mike Rounds is a serious ringneck fan. I’m sure he wouldn’t knowingly allow anything to threaten the state bird and its $100-million-plus economic footprint on the state each year.

But still, it makes you wonder.

If it makes pheasants sick, what else could it do?

– Update, Wednesday morning: GF&P Wildlife Division Director Tony Leif says early indications are that Avitech could be a useful tool in reducing crop depredation by birds, without harmful environmental impacts. A research project at SDSU has shown the chemical to be promising, Leif said: “We are comfortable with the allowance for use and the emergency order. We initiated the research on the effectiveness of this stuff in hopes that this would become a valuable tool for us in alleviating depredation. It does appear to hold promise.”

Paul DeHaan holds a 15 1/2-inch walleye, the only fish the Custer angler caught in Angostura Reservoir before his depth finder died and the wind came up.

By Kevin Woster

The first walleye of the day turned out to be the last.

Custer angler Paul DeHaan was thinking limit when he landed the 15 1/2-incher Sunday.

Then his depth finder konked out. And the ubiquitous South Dakota wind kicked up. And pretty soon DeHaan was back at the north boat ramp with a couple of quality fillets.

“It’s a good-eatin’ size,” he said.

 Indeed, the best. And the real good news is there are more where that came from, of roughly the same size, in Angostura this year.

That’s keeping size, in a lake with a 14-inch minimum for walleyes.

“Those 13 1/2- to 13 3/4-inch walleyes that had to go back last year are keepers now,” park manager Willy Collignon said.

There are also two new low-water ramps to go along with the north ramp. One is at Horse Head in the south unit, the other at Pelican Point over west.

Better access, more keeper-sized walleyes. Plenty of reason to head for Angostura this year.

Right after you get the depth finder fixed.

 

Wind Cave National Park is now home to a reintroduced population of endangered black-footed ferrets, including this little bandit, photographed by Dan Foster.

By Kevin Woster

 Awwww, ain’t it cute?

Come on, rd. Admit it, that little black-footed ferret is just adorable, isn’t it?

Even better, it’s a prairie-dog-killing machine.

And guess what? You can get close up and personal with the little bugger this Saturday at Wind Cave National Park. The park folks will have a real, live, endangered BFF on hand - no, rd, not IN your hand - as part of National Junior Ranger Day.

 The day is part of National Park Week, April 19-27th. The Saturday celebrations begin at 12:30 p.m. with a 30-minute presentation by Dan Roddy, park biologist, in the visitor center auditorium, about the park’s ferret reintroduction efforts and their status. It will be repeated will be repeated at 2:30 p.m.

The live ferret is part of the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service’s captive breeding program. It will be on display in the visitor center over the weekend of April 26 and 27.

See you there, rd?

A little snow, a little fly, and a lot of perch.

Just showin’ off? Probably so, but with good reason.

By Kevin Woster

There’s no fish much prettier than a big, plump yellow perch.

No fish much tastier, either.

Regular TIO contributor Keith Wintersteen gets to enjoy both perchy attributes after hauling in these hawgs - by perch size standards - from a Black Hills area pond, lake or puddle that he’s understandably hesitant to identify.

He will identify size and weight range - 1.26 pounds to 1.74 pounds, and 12.75 inches to 14 inches - and tell you that he caught them on a fly rod.

That’s all I know for now, except for this: I had a chance to fish with him that morning, and turned it down.

Oh, perch.

GF&P Commissioner Dick Brown, who will retire from the commission after the May 1-2 meeting in Custer State Park, shares the spotlight with granddaughter Nancy Briley Falkenberg Brown following a past Black Hills turkey hunt. 

By Kevin Woster

Things changed for Dick Brown when  he moved from Sioux Falls to Custer last year.

He was an East River representative on the commission, an eight-member appointed board designed to provide balance among urban-rural, political and geographic interests. And Custer sure ain’t East River.

Canton and Sioux Falls are. Former U.S. Attorney Jim McMahon works in Sioux Falls and has a home with his wife, Kathy, near Canton. He’ll take over for Brown following the May 1-2 commission meeting in Custer State Park.

Brown will miss his commission duties, which he considers a highlight of his public-serve work. But he’s gained all that the Black Hills have to offer an outdoors lover, including turkey hunting. He also gained a chance to be closer to grandkids, including the little sweetheart pictured with grandpa above.

Seems like a reasonable trade, doesn’t it?

And speaking of Black Hills turkey hunting, that’s just what McMahon is up to this weekend. After handling a little legal business in Rapid City during the work week, McMahon was heading for the hills - and the turkeys - today.

Apparently he’s got the right stuff for the job.

 By Scatman Woster

We will now step, uh, carefully into the great outdoors.

Those of you in sneakers beware. There’s trouble ahead.

Same goes for those of you with squeamishness. There’s, well, scat ahead.

There always is when you’re hiking outdoors.

But what left it?

Ah, that’s the question of the hour,  repeated four times in this inaugural round of The Take It Outside Name That Scat Game.

I shot the photos Saturday during a hike in Wind Cave National Park, causing my wife to exclaim, yet again: “Uh, that’s just really weird, Kevin.”

Sure, that’s what they said about Darwin.

But he forged on, and so will I.

Carefully, of course.

Exhibit 1:

 

 Exhibit 2:

 Exhibit 3:

Exhibit 4:

Sure as meadowlarks calling from fence posts, pasqueflowers like this one on a well-chewed hillside in Wind Cave National Park signal the coming of spring.

By Kevin Woster

I almost stepped on it Saturday, wandering down a well-munched, wind-blasted hillside in the Beaver Creek drainage of Wind Cave National Park.

My first pasqueflower of the year.

Mary’s first, too, since she was wandering down the slope behind me.

We were actually looking for elk, which we would find a half hour later, up in the timber above Beaver Creek.

We were looking for lions, too, which we didn’t find, again.

But we did find perennial hope.

With a cold front and snow sweeping down on us from the northwest, a lonesome state flower held fast to its breezy, unstable footing and - in a delicate, preposterously optimistic way - made the strongest statement of the day:

 SPRIIIIIIIING is here!