Spearfish Canyon, near its fall color peak. Jerry Boyer photo. (Thanks Jerry)

By KW

It’s a good time for a drive in Spearfish Canyon.

Mary and I were up there Saturday, first driving and then slogging through Little Spearfish Creek, tossing grasshopper-pattern flies at the trout.

It’s stunningly beautiful up there, autumn in full color.

You wouldn’t know it here in Rapid or in many parts of the hills, but the canyon - in particular from Savoy to Roughlock Falls - is very near its colorful peak.

There were times Saturday when we would just stop and stare, with our fly rods still and our eyes alive with the images of autumn.

Stunning.

Don’t miss the canyon while it’s all dressed up.

Gary Velder took this 900-pound, 6-by-6 bull elk Sept. 2 during an archery hunt in southwest Lawrence County.

By KW

He’s been archery hunting for 50 years.

He’s been applying for the archery license he wanted for 10 years.

Finally, he got the license. Then he got the elk.

THe 3 1/2-year-old bull green  scored a 317  in the Pope and Young system.

But if you figure the pride points, it’s off the chart.

Nice shooting, Gary.

Dan Kennedy with a antelope, shot on an archery hunt in Butte County.

By KW

It’s always a tough hunt, the archery antelope thing.

Fleet, sharp-eyed antelope use their genetic gifts and the spaceous terrain to their advantage.

“Basically antelope are running around with 10-power binoculars on their heads, and as an archery hunter you’re trying to get within 10 or 20 yards of them,” regional GF&P supervisor Mike Kintigh of Rapid City says. “That’s a big challenge in itself.”

This year, the challenge was even bigger in most of northwest South Dakota, historically the state’s prime antelope turf. Heavy snows last winter forced antelope south. And many haven’t yet returned.

Aerial surveys by GF&P earlier this year showed a 50-percent reduction in antelope numbers in Harding and Perkins counties, Kintigh said. The missing animals showed up in higher herd counts in other areas, including Fall River and Custer counties.

“We don’t think of them this way, but antelope are migratory animals. If conditions get tough, they’ll take off,” Kintigh said. “We expected them to move north again. But they really hadn’t yet by the time the season started. We’re getting calls from hunters up north disappointed in the number they saw.”

It’s unclear whether hunting improved in southern units. The results aren’t yet in. Meanwhile, hunters are using all technology at their advantage, including improve archery gear, ground blinds and antelope decoys.

And still, it’s a tough hunt. More so this year than in recent years, overall.

Which makes the bucks shot by Minnesota brothers Dan and Steve Kennedy even more rewarding. Packing their bows, the pair followed the guidance of our main man Wintersteen to their pronghorn rewards.

“They made the mistake last year of trying to walk the antelope into submission,” Wintersteen says. “This year they set up a decoy on a ridge and were literally charged by amorous antelope. They tell the story much better than I. ”

I reached Dan by cell phone, but he was leaving on a jet plane. We’ll get the rest of the story when he touches down.

Rapid City hunter Greg Sperlich, left, his son, Taylor, and Taylor’s grandpa Bill Wittrig had fine shooting on the opening day of grouse season, once that whole snake thing was settled. Oh, and the dogs: Gin, the golden retriever, and Cash, the camera-shy black Labrador.

By KW

The shooting began for Greg Sperlich even before the birds flushed Saturday during the opening day of the grouse season.

“The first thing we shot was a rattlesnake,” Sperlich says. “I walked right by it, coiled up and buzzing. I wasn’t going to shoot. It wasn’t going to bother me. Then one of the dogs made a bee line for it.”

Snuff.

On to the birds.

There were grouse aplenty for the Sperlich hunting party, which included Greg - a Rapid City lawyer - his son, Taylor, Taylor’s grandpa, Bill Wittrig, and Dr. Terry Wolthuis, the dead-eyed shutterbug who shot these pictures.

Terry also had a close encounter of the rattling kind. But like Sperlich, he came away unbitten, if not necessarily unshaken.

I’m getting a little jittery just writing about it. I’m tempted to run home and strap on my snake gaiters before I finish…

But I’ll forge on, snaky recollections and all. That’s what Sperlich and his band or merry grouse hunter did, with delightful results near Philip and south of Fort Pierre.

“It was very hot, beautiful country with lots of sharpies and boomers,” Sperlich says, referring to sharp-tailed grouse and prairie chickens.

A good beginning for great season, with lots more birds - and probably a snake or two - yet to come.

This is from last year. But I liked it so well I had to run it. A young fellow named Taylor, a yellow lab named Rocket, a sharp-tailed grouse and a lanscape as wide as the imagination. Not bad.

Bob and Charlaine Sattler wait as Jerry Hirrschoff scans the valley below Rankin Ridge for elk. (Ryan Soderlin photos)

By KW

The best part of my job is the people I meet.

And the country I get to see.

And when great people and great country come together on an assignment, I’m grateful to earn a teacher’s wage on an 11-month contract.

More than grateful. Blessed.

Jerry Hirrschoff and Bob and Charlaine Sattler - both retired teachers who know plenty about teacher’s pay - blessed me this week. So did Wind Cave and Custer parks.

So did the elk, and the coyotes.

I got to spend time with them all, at one level of physical closeness or another, covering the story of Charlaine’s bucket list trip to the Black Hills, to hear elk bugle for the first time.

She’s an inspiration, that woman. She inspires her husband every day, and has since her ovarian cancer diagnosis more than 3 1/2 years ago. And she inspired and impressed Hirrschoff, her guide, and Woster, her scribe, on a trip to the land of the elk.

She heard her first elk bugle. Then heard many more. And watched the big animals move in their mating season strut. She saw antelope and deer, buffalo and songbirds, raptors and the simple miracles of a rising and setting sun.

It was just the first on a bucket list of promise for a women whose plan in dealing with overian cancer is to follow her outdoor heart, with a husband who believes in her and in the places that await them.

I expect them to go far on this bucket-list journey, and see unimagined beauty.

Black Hills elk country was the perfect place to start.

The object of our autumn affection: a bull elk in Wind Cave, feeling the fall fever.

Jenni Rockwell with a Little Spearfish Creek brookie, her first trout on a fly.

By KW

Jennie Rockwell has plenty to feel good about these days. So does her husband, Mitch.

He’s from Illinois but makes regular sojourns to South Dakota to hunt and fish.  His latest trip was in late August, for some fly fishing and sightseeing with Jenni.

Along with a trail ride, a visit to the Mammoth Site and a trip to Devil’s Tower, they spent a day up Spearfish Canyon, so Jenni could literally get her wadered feet wet in South Dakota fly fishing.

It took some effort, but she finally hooked and landed a gorgeous little brook trout on Little Spearfish Creek.

“Jenni’s first trout on a fly,” Mitch wrote in an e-mail sent with the picture. “I snapped some photos. And you couldn’t wipe the smile off her face.”

Nor would you try.

Mitch is planning a return trip this year to the Nick Nemec place, where he does  some field work in return for hunting privileges.  And Jenni? Well, she’s signing up for fly fishing classes at a club back home.

She’s hooked. Definitely.

This Utah elk was the second heart-pounding chance of the day for Rob Skjonsberg of Sioux Falls, former chief of staff to Gov. Mike Rounds and current VP  for the biofuels company Poet LLC.

By KW

So, what the heck does a guy do when he misses a shot at a monster elk?

Rob Skjonsberg collected himself and shot one almost as big, 30 minutes later

Skjonsberg was working from a base came at 10,300 feet in the mountains of southern Utah recently, riding a mule to and from tough-to-reach hunting spots. He had a chance at a bull that he estimated at 375 points, or close to it,  in a quick shot after he dismounted from a roller-coaster mule ride.

“I ended up shooting right over the top of the big bull - right where I aimed, I guess,” Skjonsberg wrote by e-mail. “I about puked. And, of course, he was real big, so I’m sure I choked a bit.”

Not on the next one, though.

Skjonsberg had climbed a rock ledge to glass a valley for elk, and at one time or another watched 10 or 12 bulls move into areas that were virtually inaccessible, particularly given the late hour of the day.  That’s when a big bull started bugling - or screaming, as Skjonsberg puts it - as it came crashing through small trees and brush on a ridge across the way.

“We started talking to the bull and could see that he had an arrow stuck above his eye,” Skjonsberg said. “Three days earlier, we talked to a bow hunter and he said he’d stuck a big bull and thought he hit him in the head. Well, we found his bull.”

They called the big one to within 100 yards, and this time Skjonsberg’s aim was dead on.

“I’ve hunted elk in five states and that’s the first time I’ve had a chance at a bull like that,” he said. “When I got to him and lifted his big ol’ head, I was a bit overwhelmed. God’s always been good to me. But that day was extra special.”

The beams and the beam, Rob Skjonsberg celebrates a extra special elk on an extra special day of hunting.

By KW

When I was 10 or 12 years old, I could eat with gusto just about any fish that swam or fowl that flew.

Bullheads out of the South Dam in August? No problem. Fry ‘em up.

Sheepshead out of the Missouri? Mmmmmm-Mmmmm.

Sliced goose breast? Another helping, please.

And fried grouse right out of the skillet? I love it.

Or, at least, loved it.

As I’ve aged, my once-forgiving palate has turned finicky.  I’m not much interested in fried bullheads anymore. Sheepshead? It’s catch and release. One goose a year is plenty. And prairie grouse? Well, the taste of  liver’s OK, but not 2 pounds at a time.

Not anymore.

Still, grouse is definitely edible. But it takes more than flour, oil, salt and prpper for me to indulge these days. I like it best grilled, with some soy sauce or teriyaki-type concoction including something sweet - honey, jelly, orange juice - added to the marinade.

Good recipes are as important as reliable shotguns as the grouse season approaches. So is quickly gutting the bird and getting it cooled down, on ice as soon as possible.

It’ll never be pheasant or mallard breast - Mmmmm-Mmmmm, cooked almost anyway - but it can be downright tasty with the right recipes.

Any good ones out there?

Four-year-old Anthony Erickson of Sioux Falls - a kid who already hunts turkeys with his grandpa, Paul Vinatieri of Rapid City - checks out Ev Hoyt’s hardware during the South Dakota Wildlife Federation awards banquet in Watertown. Looking on is Anthony’s dad, Tony.

By KW

Why do they do the things they do? It’s for the kids.

There are plenty of reasons that the folks honored by the South Dakota Wildlife Federation each year do the important outdoors work they do. But none is better than the future, and preserving and even enhancing outdoor recreation for the next generation, and those that come after that.

When the federation met last month in Watertown for its annual convention, the Black Hills area was well represented at the awards stand. Ev Hoyt was named South Dakota Conservationist of the Year, through a nomination by the Black Hills Sportsmen.

You’d have trouble finding anyone in South Dakota who does more for wildlife, conservation and outdoor recreation than Ev.

District ranger Bob Thompson was named South Dakota Forest Conservationist, again through the BHS nomination, for his innovative management of the Mystic Ranger District.

And to show you what clout the local sportsman’s club has at the state level, the BHS nomination even managed to secure the South Dakota Communicator of the Year award for the  Take It Outside founder, moderator, financial manager, chief fly fisher and Old Dove Slayer.

Will outdoor wonders never cease?

Dave Knudson of Sioux Falls got the South Dakota Legislator Conservation award. Jim and Angie Sokup were named soil conservationists. Phil and Brenda Mitzel were named water conservationists. Rick Eske got the youth conservationist award and Harold Goeden was named wildlife conservationist of the year.

But the big winner was the future, and little guys like Anthony Erickson, who attended the banquet with his folks, Tony and Christine, and grandparents, Paul and Judy Vinatieri of Rapid City.

What’s a 4-year-old doing there? He’s already got the fever.

“He’s already by turkey hunting with his grandpa,” Judy Vinatieri said. “He loves to hear the gobbling.”

As long as there are adults committed to the outdoors, young outdoor lovers like Tony will have a place there.

And the turkeys will still be gobbling.

Ev Hoyt talks about outdoor commitment after receiving his conservationist award from SDWF West River director Ken Schroeder and SDWF president Rick Eske.

With Charlie Rokusek of the 29-90 Sportsman’s Club looking on, state Sen.  Dave Knudson talks about the importance of 2nd Amendment freedoms and outdoor conservation.

And last but certainly least, The Old Dove Slayer denies most of what Schroeder said about him as he accepts his conservation communicator award.