Minnesota Sporting Journal - Winter 2013

1MINNESOTA SPORTING JOURNAL

WINTER 2013

PHOTOGRAPHED ‘EYES THROUGH THE ICE

WOODS COME ALIVE: LATE SEASON BOW

CONTROLLING THE COYOTE POPULATION

PHEASANTS FOREVER BRINGS IT HOME

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2 MINNESOTA SPORTING JOURNAL



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FROM THE BACKWOODSA NOTE FROM THE EDITOR

The first year of the Minnesota Sporting Journal has come to fruition, and many changes have occurred in our relatively short existence. With a quality product, a consistent message and significant growth, I’m proud of what we have done.

As I wipe away a tear from my cheek, I must announce that this issue will be my last as editor-in-chief for the journal. I am taking a position as the editor of the Ruffed Grouse Society magazine, a message that is truly bittersweet for me. I saw the journal’s birth, coddled it through infancy and now am letting it move on like a child going to college. It is hard to let go.

Readers saw me and the MNSJ team grow as publishers and journalists. We all poured our heart and soul into this magazine. I, personally, enjoyed putting my true feelings and personality into my outdoor writing. It is amazing how fast the last few years have gone by. Unfortunately for me, it is time to move on.

At the same time, I am excited for the opportunity with the Ruffed Grouse Society, a truly exceptional conservation organization that specializes in exactly what I love and why I live . . . bird dogs and upland bird hunting. As a huge pro-ponent of conservation and habitat management, the editor position for the Ruffed Grouse Society magazine is a great fit for me. It feels like it was meant to be.

Luckily, the Minnesota Sporting Journal is in good hands, being acquired by journal native Bret Amundson. Bret is a great fit to take the helm, having done excellent things for the journal in the realm of content, online marketing and the Minnesota Sporting Journal radio show. Like me, he is an outdoors fanatic. He is business savvy and can no doubt continue the journal’s momentum.

This is, by no means, the last you will hear from me. In addition to my RGS duties, I plan to continue to contribute articles, photographs and opinions. You haven’t seen the last of me Minnesota!

We need to shake things up a bit, and sometimes change is good. This is an exciting time for the Minnesota Sporting Journal. Good luck to Bret with this new venture.

Till next time, . . .

MATT SOBERG

Editor’s Farewell


TABLE OF CONTENTS

FEATURES

Find us on at www.facebook.com/mnsportingjournal or go to: www.mnsportingjournal.com

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DOWN THE LINE: CONTROLLING COYOTES

WOODS COME ALIVE: CLOSING TIME WHITETAILS

TODD KUHN

TYLER SCOTT

BRET AMUNDSON

MATT SOBERG

PHOTOGRAPHED ‘EYES THROUGH THE ICE


ON THE COVER: Springer with Pheasants; Bill Marchel, Fort Ripley, Minnesotawww.billmarchel.com

COLUMNS

DEPARTMENTS

CONSERVATION AND ETHICS 8

NORTHWOODS 10

SEASONAL OUTDOORS 12 BIG GAME 14

YOUTH MOVEMENT DYLAN BEACH BUCK 42CHEF’S CORNER DUCK GUMBO 44IN THE COMMUNITY GOVERNOR’S PHEASANT OPENER 45 GOOSE FEST 46

MN DEER CLASSIC 47 MNSJ INTERVIEW NICOLE WELLER 48 Photograph by Matt Soberg


Photograph by Matt Soberg


Some guys are killers and tag fillers. That is just not me. “Tag soup” isn’t so bad if you add the right ingredients during the hunt.

For me, the hunt is more about the experience, relationships and lessons learned than limits and filled tags.

I remember being a young whitetail hunter, learning the ropes from year to year. For some reason, whether it was peer pressure or my personal motivation, I felt extreme pressure to get a deer every year. Going back to school without a filled tag felt like a failure. Whether it was a spike buck or a doe, it didn’t mat-ter, as long as I could tell my buddies that I harvested a deer.

Things change over time, however, and with age and years, I l learned that being a good outdoorsman is not about the harvest. Again, it’s about the experience. I don’t need to score a limit on pheasants. I don’t need to post grip and grin photographs. One good gun dog point and a smart effective shot is good for me. Even a miss can make the day if a lesson is learned. Those are true memories a hunter never forgets.

I’ve had many hunting and fishing ventures that have failed to succeed. I hate to admit it, but I’ve had many days afield and come home with zilch. The trick is to get in the mindset that cer-tain small moments can make the day, season or year for a hunter.

One such moment occurred when my English setter pointed his first grouse. It happened during late season Minne-sota grouse season, and I couldn’t be more proud. It truly made a lifelong memory for us as a hunting team.

The day started on a whim. At the last minute, I decided to throw Blitz into the truck and head due north to a little young growth aspen forest in the northwoods. Yes, you read it right. I named my dog Blitz. For those of you who know me well, a foot-ball reference is not a surprise.

As we traveled north, I honestly didn’t have high expecta-tions. Blitz was six months old at the time, and except for a few game farm and pheasant hunts, he hadn’t had much time to try to pin down a ruff.

CONSERVATION AND ETHICS MATT SOBERG

Tasty “TAg Soup”“Tag soup” isn’t so bad if you add the right ingredients during the hunt.

I figured, however, that a good run through the woods wouldn’t hurt a thing. I really wanted to scout this new area hoping to come back next year after Blitzy had some more hunts under his belt.

As I parked and stepped out of the truck, my excitement started to grow. I can’t explain it. It sounds peculiar, but it felt like a special morning.

I know I was excited to see what my dog could do. Whether good or bad, I was prepared for it, but the anticipation started to eat at me. I hoped he had a good nose and feel for the north-woods. It is a special but daunting place.

I quickly donned my gear and dropped Blitz to the ground. As soon as I did, he took off like a shot. Within 75 yards of the truck, he quickly pointed, but being young, he creeped in too close. One flush scared the cookies out of me. As I tried to whoa him the best I could, he was still birdy. He continued to creep from the first flush and another bird burst into air like it had been shot out of a cannon.

We hadn’t even started, and we saw two birds. Now granted, the points weren’t spectacular and no shots were fired, but I wasn’t complaining.

As we continued, the grouse were teaching Blitz lessons. My special grouse habitat turned out to be excellent.

We were lucky to find an area with grouse numbers, but the wily veteran birds were not willing to cooperate with my setter’s advances. Seemingly in one morning, he appeared to bump birds more mildly with every encounter. Despite our struggles, I was happy.

After a couple hours and no shots fired, we busted brush down a deer trail toward the truck. We had traveled miles by then. I was ready to head back home.

The trail to the truck hosted some excellent bird cover. Unfortunately for Blitz, were were heading downwind making it difficult to locate any grouse scent cone.

I was watching him closely hoping we’d have some fourth


quarter heroics. The moment that occurred during the next few seconds is etched in my brain’s hunting archives forever.

At about 50 yards, Blitz quickly passed a downed log with a mossy rock and convenient underbrush. Just getting downwind from the spot, he stopped dead, wheeling his head around in an instant. His body almost trembled as his tail held stiff.

I whoa’d him like we’d done this a million times before. To my setter’s credit, he held his point better than his prior creeping encounters. I rushed to his location, softly giving a whoa with every few steps. He was locked.

As I approached the log, a quick flush and the tell-tale beating of wings flew straight away. One quick shot led to a downed bird. It happened so fast. Instinct took over.

Not yet trained to steady from wing to shot, Blitz took off like a blast to the bird. He pinned it down in the underbrush. I rushed to the bird and held it in my hand. A bird in the hand is a special thing. Blitz licked the feathers like this moment was meant to be.

Blitz didn’t stick around long and was quickly off to find more prey. We didn’t jump any more birds that morning, but the experience held more significance than we both realized. Hopefully, we can turn our first into many more.

I think we will.It is these moments for which a hunter lives.

We didn’t get our limit. I wasn’t taking pictures of five ruffs on my tailgate.

Even if I would have missed that shot, Blitz and I would have gone home and had some tasty tag soup. I would have been just fine with that.


NORTHWOODS MIKE ANDERSON

For nearly 40 years my family has been chasing monster bucks in Northern Minnesota. For the last 10 years, I’ve joined them in their pursuit. A chase, however, is typically all it is.

We hunt 160 acres of land in what most people would con-sider the middle of nowhere. In a small cabin, lined with metal-framed cots, with no running water, and no electricity, we make camp.

Unlike most of Minnesota, we don’t have the luxury of posting ourselves on the corner-posts of cornfields or sitting in ground blinds amongst hay bales. We hunt dense woodlands dot-ted with deep impassable swamps.

Saying large bucks are a dime a dozen up there is not an ex-aggeration, if anything it is an understatement. In 40 years, we’ve shot two deer with more than nine points. Let me repeat that. In 40 years, we’ve shot two deer with more than nine points. I’m not talking about two or three guys in the woods either; we typically have between eight and 10 hunters in stands every year.

Big deer exist up there, but they are certainly hard to come by. Up north deer are earned by accurate scouting, proper stand placement, and most importantly, time spent in the woods.

Spending 11 straight hours in the woods is not uncommon. Quietly watching a few shooting lanes and hoping the deer are on the move.

It is vital you are ready to shoot at all times, because with limited shooting lanes, you may only have an eight foot window to shoot a deer. If that deer is on the move, we are talking about a shooting window of only a few seconds.

For those reasons, “passing on deer” typically isn’t in our terminology. You are given limited chances to shoot each year, and when opportunity comes, you take the shot.

This year I went deep into the woods, to the back edge of our land, hoping the find a monster. I found deer sign every-where, more than any other area that I’ve scouted in my years up there.

So up went the stand on a small knoll in the middle of per-haps the biggest, nastiest swamp on our land. I cleared the area in front of my stand, knocked down a few branches looking towards the swampland and called it good.

I have never been more excited for an opening weekend of hunting in my life. The weather was perfect, there was sign ev-erywhere, and I was in my stand ready to go well before shooting hours.

The day came and went without so much as a squirrel giving me a scare. At no point did I even pick my gun up off the side of my stand. I felt a level of disappointment that can only be compa-rable to my feelings shortly after a 1998 NFC playoff game.

It was only opening day. I still had Sunday. Sunday came and went as well, providing me with minimal

excitement, but nothing more than some racket in the swamp that eventually faded without even a glimpse of brown hair or the white of a disappearing flag.

At that point it was back to reality for me. For two weeks I dreamed of being back in that stand at having another shot at a nice deer and in a place I was sure was capable of producing one.

Thursday night I headed north, ready to put in as many

THE BUCK40 years of deer camp in the northwoods made this buck story more magical.


hours as it took for the glimpse of a deer, to get that rush. My op-portunity would come Friday morning.

I got out to my stand early; it was warm, especially for the middle of November. There was no wind, and I could hear ex-tremely well. I set myself up to look out into the open area in front of my stand.

After about an hour, I thought I heard something in the swamp behind me. I slowly turned to look and to my surprise, there was a deer walking towards me.

I could tell it was a nice bodied deer, but couldn’t immedi-ately see if it was a buck or doe. It came out at 30 yards and was quickly moving closer.

At that point two things happened simultaneously; I realized it was a buck, and also that I had an extremely limited area to get a clean shot off. I would have one chance in an open section about four feet wide, and the deer was closing in on the spot.

I pulled my gun up, clicked off the safety as the deer entered the zone, looked into the scope and pulled the trigger. He dropped down on his front legs, got up, ran about 30 yards and crashed down.

At that point I didn’t have any clue how big the deer was, I only knew I had put what appeared to be a good shot on a big-bodied buck, which was plenty of reason for me to celebrate.

Within an hour, my dad wandered over, and I directed him to where I thought I’d seen the deer go down. He hollered back to me, “You are going to like what you see when you get over here!”

It was monster 12-point buck. Old in the tooth, gray in the face, you could tell he had survived our hunts and the cold north-ern winters for years.

Had I not been ready, there’s a good chance I never would have even seen this deer. The entire process, from hearing the deer to shooting the deer, took about eight seconds. Within 15 seconds, the deer would have been gone, back into the swamps, not to be seen again.

He definitely isn’t going into the Boone and Crockett record book. You won’t even read about him in the local paper, but for our group and for our land, it’s a deer of a lifetime.


SEASONAL OUTDOORS BEN BRETTINGEN

As ice draws her sheet over the waters of Minnesota, anglers flood upon it in search of gold. There arguably isn’t a better lake to chase walleyes year round than Lake of the Woods. During the winter months, fishermen pile out in hoards with walleyes on the brain.

We were under the same spell cast by the giant lake. Our first thoughts to finding big walleyes was to depart from the crowds of the south side and hit some of the first islands we could reach. Equipped with our tracked UTV and two portables gang rigged behind her, we were a force to be reckoned with. We made our way over the endless ice heaves until we reached our desired destination. A near 30 mile run seemed trivial. It was made easy by the luxury of a heated cab and a level of Titanic-like confidence in our ability to reach any destination. Getting to our destination was going to be far from the problem.

As dusk started to settle over the lake, the fish came in swarms. Although the size wasn’t spectacular, a few great fish

I BET THE FISHING GODS ARE LAUGHINGI was stranded on one of Minnesota’s largest lakes with a limping vehicle and sub-zero temperatures. This is the tale of a Lake of the Woods sized debacle.

mixed in with the numbers did the trick. A glance over my shoul-der into a stiff northwest wind brought an ominous mix of clouds on the horizon. The decision was made to pack up and make the trek back before the storm unleashed its fury upon us. The ride started smooth, but ended far from it.

Crossing one of the ice heaves seemed to be a little more challenging, as we hopped out of the cab to determine the prob-lem. As I reached towards the heavens to stretch from the bumpy ride, I heard my companion mention something about the track. My face would have been priceless to see, as I gazed down to see a 3 tracked vehicle. The other track was splayed off on its side and connected to the hub only by a few ligaments.

The situation, dismayed and sitting 15 miles into the lake with darkness approaching, was not a calming feeling. The light vanished as mother nature decided to bear her ugly head. Sub zero temperatures mixed with twenty mile an hour winds made for a dangerous recipe. Parked off the edge of the snowmobile


BEN BRETTINGENtrail, we waited for someone to make their way down the track. Running out of plausible options, we attempted to place an emergency call with spotty service. The call took as the drone of a successful call rang out over the sunflower heater in the shelter of a portable fish house. The verdict was good, as Sheriffs would be able to make it to our location via snowmobile within a few hours.

Bobbing on the horizon we saw two lights slowly making their way to our location. Riding two up, Dave and I jumped on the sleds leaving James and the equipment behind for the second trip. I can’t say the trip was pleasant, as I fought sliding off the back between the bumps of ice heaves. Though not comfortable, there was much satisfaction to be had from getting off the giant lake in pristine condition. Within the next few hours, James ar-rived with both portables in tow and not a feather ruffled in the lot of us.

The next task was to get the limping tracked UTV off the lake. It would seem a truck and trailer would easily do the job. This was not the case. There was no road leading that far onto ice and most certainly couldn’t support the weight of our diesel. The best option emerging in our mind was to fashion a ski to place under the A-arm attached with a pair of heavy duty ratchet straps.

As we headed to the lumber yard in Baudette with a night

of good rest, the design came to fruition. After a quick game of phone tag, we had a tracked Jeep from a local resort to take us back to our broken down ride.

The vehicle looked quite desolate as we pulled up on the stranded vehicle surrounded by the night’s snow drifts. We quickly had the expertly crafted ski under the UTV and strapped in place. Slowly the engine growled to life, and the three tracks started to spin. The three legged vehicle was moving quite nicely at a clip much faster than anticipated. Mere miles outside of Pine Island, we felt a sensation coming from our ski. Jumping out to inspect the ski, it appeared to be perfect. It wasn’t until we moved to the other side, where the other rear track was splayed out in a similar fashion to the first.

Things were getting ridiculous fast, as our good fortune rained upon us. Although, we were now close enough to drive the truck to the UTV and winch it up the trailer.

Not eager to call the trip a complete bust, we decided to spend the afternoon doing what we came to do, which was fish! The fishing gods must have had some humility, or better labeled cruel humor, as we were able to ice just enough walleyes to keep us wanting more from this winter playground.


BIG GAME Todd Kuhn

JUST GIVE IT TIMEPatience and time cannot be taken for granted when it comes to chasing whitetail bucks.

“Just give it time.” We have all heard the quote at one time or another. Usu-

ally it is interjected much to our angst. Time is one of those things over which everyone wishes they had more control. We need more time to get work done, more time to spend with family, more time to hunt or fish, more time, more time… Time, in es-sence, is the controlling power in our lives.

I am constantly crunched for time. Often, I find myself thinking that there are not enough hours in the day. By the time I finish with the things I must do, some of which I enjoy and some I loathe, there is little time for the things I want to do. Many times, the things I want to do never become the things I get to do. For the most part I accept that. However, the yearning for the out-doors is never satisfied. I enjoy every minute that I get to spend wandering the expanses of the North Star State, but I always want more.

The advent of the trail camera should be lauded as the single

greatest advancement of the human species. Some may argue that the wheel is number one, but I contend that the wheel has led to numerous traffic accidents that cause injuries, and I have yet to be injured attending to a trail cam.

All joking aside, I am addicted to trail cameras. I don’t think that I could ever have enough of them and I need to be careful not to spend even more time on placing and checking them. They are in effect a time machine (and you thought they didn’t exist). Trail cams devote their entire being to capturing the creatures that slink around your property and are on constant lookout. They give you back the time that you previously needed to thoroughly scout your hunting grounds. Now instead of spending that time scout-ing, I can move on to the things that I would like to get to do. Your list may be different, but mine includes things like taking my daughter fishing, chasing roosters with my yellow labrador Kona, maybe even hanging the Christmas lights on the house before its 10 degrees out. Who knows what I might do. With a time ma-

chine many things are possible. Another way that I have tried

to maximize my time available is by engaging in habitat management. My theory is that a little time spent now will increase my time available later (my time machine, I mean trail camera, can’t help me here). Numerous outdoor writers and advocates point to qual-ity habitat as the number one factor in prolonged success and sustainability. I claim in no way to be an expert in habi-tat management, but I do understand that if I provide a quality food source with an ample supply and/or quality liv-ing quarters my chances of finding my prey of choice increases. So many of us do not have hundreds or thousands of acres to create a virtual hunting haven,


but there are things we can all do now that will pay dividends for seasons to come thereby maximizing time. I feel that by working to improve habitat, the time I spend in the field will be met with a higher chance of success, thus making it more worth my precious time.

I know many individuals who put in food plots every spring, and complain about it every spring. “I’ve got to get that food plot in, but I just don’t have the time.” This is a classic case of need-ing to work smarter, not harder. If it is a burden to get your plot in every spring because you are crunched for time; it’s time to consider what seeds you are sowing. Have you asked yourself why plant every year? Why not plant a peren-nial crop instead of an annual? Granted, a perennial still needs care to grow properly and some maintenance, but the trade-off is not having to break ground every year. Since time in my world is at a premium, I can use that time to work on other projects. Maybe I can clear some shooting lanes, bust trails through thick cover to encourage deer move-ments, or maybe even plant some trees or shrubs to provide some bedding cover. With all this new found time, the possibilities are endless.

From my personal perspective, fall is the busiest time. It wasn’t until just recently that it dawned on me that many of the things that “needed” to get done could be accom-

plished in smarter ways. A perfect example was clearing shooting lanes. We had always cleared shooting lanes in the fall once the leaves started to come off the trees. Somehow, trees dropping their leaves had been the point in time when our alarm clock for that task went off. If you hunt a parcel with numerous stands, you quickly realize that it can be quite time consuming to make every stand ready for the pilgrimage that is whitetail hunting in Minnesota whether by bow or gun. Then in a moment of pure genius I thought to myself, “why don’t you do this in the winter when you have more time.” There it was! The answer to my time dilemma: work smarter not harder. I can just as easily, maybe even easier, attend to shooting lanes in the winter when I have more

time available. Sometimes I am a smart man!Taking a moment to step back and objectively look at how,

when, and why you do certain tasks may just free up a little bit of time for yourself in the outdoors. Whenever you can take things that you would like to do and make them into things that you get to do it’s a definite win. Time is a sequential thing and we cannot be in two places at once so we must be efficient if your time is as rare a commodity as mine. Now if I could just find the time to do the dishes…



BY MATT SOBERG

Special thanks to Pheasants Forever Public Relations Specialist Rehan Nana and the rest of the PF crew for their help with this article.

This photograph was taken by the author at the Johannsen Farms near Tolstoy, South Dakota during the 2013 Pheasants Forever media hunt. More information can be found about PF and Johannsen Farms at www.pheasantsforever.org and www.johannsenfarms.com.


BY MATT SOBERG

When a Minnesota boy is an outdoors fanatic and conservation-minded, he is certainly proud of a conservation or-ganization doing great things for upland habitat, especially when that organization has local roots. Pheasants Forever, based in St. Paul, Minnesota, is a home-grown entity that is literally growing as we speak taking conservation, habitat management and a pro-hunting attitude to the next level.

Pheasants Forever is celebrating its 30th anniversary this

year and is bringing its annual Pheasant Fest to Minneapolis in February. “What was, three decades ago, a fledgling conservation group being run out of a house basement has matured into an organization that delivered more than $50 million in 2011 to our wildlife habitat conservation mission,” said Howard K. Vincent, president and CEO of Pheasants Forever and Quail Forever. “Pheasants Forever’s success is built by thousands of volunteers who’ve donated time, money, sweat, energy and passion for the altruistic cause of conserving this nation’s precious uplands and


wetlands. It’s important for us to celebrate these anniversary milestones, but more important to say ‘thank you’ to our support-ers.”

“Pheasants Forever is exceptionally proud to call Minnesota home, and over the past 30 years, the organization has seen unyielding support from the entire state,” said Rehan Nana, Pheasants Forever public relations special-ist. Today, Minnesota is Pheasants Forever’s largest participating state with over 25,000 volunteers and 79 chapters. Historically, the organization has spent more than $52 million on habitat and conservation education in Minnesota, including more than $37 million on 33,770 acres that have been purchased, permanently protected and opened to public hunting and outdoor

recreation. “Much of this is provided by our phenomenal chap-ters and volunteers that embody the organization’s mission and

dedicate countless hours pro-tecting our outdoor heritage,” added Nana.

In particular, one of the statewide initiatives that Pheasants Forever is proud of is the Build a Wildlife Area campaign. The organization announced in November 2012 that this year’s Build a Wildlife Area project will be in honor of Minnesota’s servicemen

and women. In addition, the organization utilized funding from the Minnesota Clean Water and Land Legacy Amendment to permanently protect 1,820 acres of wildlife habitat in our state.

I enjoy reading the Pheasants Forever mission statement: “Pheasants Forever is dedicated to the conservation of pheasants,

“It’s important for us to celebrate these anniversary

milestones, but more impor-tant to say ‘thank you’ to our supporters.”

Howard K. Vincent


quail and other wildlife through habitat improvements, public awareness, education and land management policies and pro-grams.”

The organization started right here in the North Star State and has now expanded nationwide spreading its message. From the original Pheasants Forever mission and expanding to Quail Forever, a diverse array of issues regarding birding species and hunting specialties are being tackled.

The organization promotes a grass roots approach to conservation, where county and local chapters are empowered to determine where 100 percent of the locally raised funds are spent.

Pheasants Forever enjoys a rich and Minnesota-filled his-tory. Incorporated in 1982, the thrust for the venture came as a response to the decline of pheasant numbers in the state and the



result of substantial losses of habitat suitable for pheasants. As farming practices intensified, pheasant habitat was be-ing removed from the landscape.

A column written in March of 1982 by Dennis An-derson, the outdoor editor for the St. Paul Pioneer Press and Dispatch at the time, regarding the state of Minnesota’s grassland habitat ignited a group of concerned hunters and conservationists to form Pheasants Forever.

Shortly thereafter, the first banquet drew 800 sup-porters in 1983, and the first chapter started in Kandiyohi County in the same year. With growing momentum, Pheasants Forever has never looked back. Collectively and currently, Pheasants Forever and Quail Forever have over 135,000 members and 720 chapters across the United States and Canada.


Pheasants Forever, along with other conservation groups, has endured ups and downs in its journey despite its growth. A huge challenge has come in how land is being used. With near record commodity prices, land is being changed from grassland habitat to production at a record pace. “This is why we feel now, more than ever, it is imperative to continue our work and actively promote the wide-ranging benefits of our mission,” said Nana.

The group’s influ-ence is spreading across all of North America. Pheasants Forever has spent more than $40 million on wildlife habitat projects and conservation education. Those funds have translated into 441,963 habitat projects benefit-ing 8.4 million acres across the continent. That is a lot of acres.

Pheasants Forever is youth oriented too. It has put over 100,000 kids through mentored hunts and shooting sports events. With the decline of youth with the advantage of enjoying out-

doors activities, this is significant.

The organization was instrumental in the creation of the Conserva-tion Reserve Program, according to Nana, where land set-aside programs pays landowners to keep their most environmen-tally sensitive lands out of agricultural produc-tion. “CRP lands improve

pheasant populations, but are also responsible for improvements in water quality, soil erosion prevention, and the creation of critical habitat for a variety of other wildlife species” Nana said. Through its legislative work, the organization continues to protect

“Much of our success is due to our phenomenal chapters and volunteers that embody the or-ganization’s mission and dedi-cate countless hours protecting our outdoor heritage,” Rehan Nana


“We are thrilled to be bring-ing our signature event home to celebrate 30 years of successes, but also to rally our supporters for the habitat battles on the ho-rizon,”

Joe Duggan

the viability and continuation of the CRP program.Pheasants Forever is not just all about pheasants. In 2005,

the group launched Quail Forever, an organization dedicated to the protection and enhancement of quail, pheasant and other upland wildlife through habitat improvement, public awareness, education and advocacy for sound land management policy. Today, Quail Forever has over 120 chapters and 10,000 members across the United States.

I had the pleasure of attending the 2012 Pheasants Forever Media Hunt in Aberdeen, South Dakota in November, which was hosted in conjunction with the South Dakota Department of Tourism and the Aberdeen Area Convention and Visitor’s Bureau. In addition to a contrasting public land versus private land hunt, attendees learned about the South Dakota area in addition to Pheasants Forever’s mission, legislative actions and the upcoming Pheasant Fest in Minneapolis.

We witnessed the changes occurring across the prairie landscape through reduction of habitat and increase in agricul-tural production. We directly witnessed the burning of habitat lands that once, probably, were excellent covers for pheasants and other wildlife.

With the changing landscape across pheasant territory, Pheasants Forever realizes the importance, more now than ever, the need to be a leader in conservation. “We must continue to put habitat back on the landscape for pheasant, quail and other wildlife,” Nana urged.

It is fitting that this year’s Pheasant Fest celebration will take place in Pheasants Forever’s home territory of Minnesota’s twin cities. The organization was formed by a group of Minne-sota pheasant hunters who saw the need for habitat preservation and restoration back in 1982.

The Pheasant Fest & Quail Classic is the country’s largest

event for upland hunters, according to nana, and includes content and events to satisfy hunters, sport dog owner and wildlife con-servationists. The event combines a national outdoor tradeshow with wildlife seminars and family events complete with puppies, tractors, shotguns, art and more.

The last event held in Minnesota drew 29,802 attendees in 2008, which was the larg-est in Pheasants Forever’s history. I venture to bet this year will beat that.

“We are thrilled to be bringing our signature event home to celebrate 30 years of successes, but also to rally our support-ers for the habitat battles on the horizon,” said Joe Duggan, Pheasants Forever’s vice president of corporate sales. That is

very well put, and I think the event will do just that. The show will be held February 15, 16 and 17, 2013 at the

Minneapolis Convention Center. If you are a hunter, dog owner or conservationist in any way, don’t miss it. For more information on the event, check out www.pheasantfest.org.


MINNESOTA

THROUGH THE

PHOTO ESSAY BY TODD KUHN

ICE


MINNESOTA

“Many men go fishing their entire lives without knowing it is not fish they are after.”

Henry David Thoreau



“If everyone in the world were a fisherman, there would be no time for war.”

Unknown



“Fishing is much more than fish. It is the great occasion when we may return to the fine simplicity of our forefathers.”

Herbert Hoover



“Scholars have long known that fishing eventually turns men into philosophers. Unfortunately, it is almost impossible to buy decent tackle on a philosopher’s salary.

Patrick F. McManus


REWARDS OF THE LINE

A SOON FORGOTTEN TRADITIONBY TYLER SCOTT


Having very little trapping experience growing up other than the occasional pesky pocket gopher, my passion for trapping has grown exponentially with each “check of the line” over the past couple years. My enthusiasm for making lengthy hikes to areas wandered only by our local furbearers has become an infatuation rivaled only by whitetail deer hunting. Making the walk with the unknown of what one may have around each bend of the slough or turn of the road is what makes each check exhila-rating in its own way.

Trapping, for many of our elders, was indeed a way of life and was a sole source of income for some. Back in the so called “glory days”, coming home with a bounty of fury critters meant food on the table or even clothes on your back. Harvest-ing fur is a tradition our generation and generations to come may not fully appreciate as did our forefathers. For myself, trapping is not a source of income nor a means of providing for my family. However, it is a way to stay in tune with nature. Spending time in the tranquility of the outdoors gives me a sense of peace and offers me an outlet to “recharge” from life’s everyday hustle and bustle.

Until recently, my trapping arsenal consisted of a half dozen #1 Victor long springs for the neighbor-hood mound builder. Collecting gopher feet was a small source of income for me at a young age. If I recall correctly, we would turn in our monthly catch the first Thursday of each month at the local town hall. Even though the cash return was small, the challenge kept

me coming back to those alfalfa fields to try my hand at one more gopher challenge.

My recent drive for trapping was fueled by the ever dimin-ishing local deer herd, partially due in part to predation on our annual fawn population. Over the past 8-10 years I have attempt-ed to entice coyotes into range with a variety of calling techniques, location setups, and strategic times of the year. No matter the situation, unfortunately, they tended to elude my efforts more often than not. This is when my interests in trapping furbearers stepped into play.


Before setting out on this adventure, I consumed as much information via articles, movies and firsthand knowledge from a couple trapping enthusiasts. Taking the extra time to educate yourself on techniques of trapping will best suite you in your endeavor for fur. From my experience (mostly failure), paying attention to detail is of upmost importance if you expect to be successful.

With very little hands on experience, I set forth on a challenge to harvest coyotes. Snares would be my trap of choice, as I could not only assemble them for a much lower cost as compared to buying footholds, but I would be able to set more traps in a given day. Time, as many of you know, is scarce, and making the most of it will lead to higher catch success if utilized wisely.

When setting out in search for areas to set, I quickly concluded snaring cattail sloughs and creek drainages would yield my greatest success. Yes, I will be the first to admit my mind has many times con-vinced me a coyote’s diet consists only of deer (late fall scat often consists of deer hair from the recent deer season) but in all actuality this is far from true. Their diet varies from mice and rabbits to road kill and most notably during the early winter months injured or deceased whitetails from the latest hunting season. Basically, they eat whatever presents itself as an easy meal. Slough bottoms offer a wide variety of habitat for many prey species, which is what brought me to this location for trapping. As with most animals (including ourselves), the path of least resistance is often the path taken. Looking for natural openings or abandoned beaver runs through the cattails have produced numerous catches.

The initial drive was to solely pursue coyotes, but in so doing, I was marveled by the endless opportuni-ties in trapping multiple animals which inhabit our area. Whether it be raccoons, fox, mink, muskrats, beaver, weasels, fisher or even an otter. With each “check of the line” I am newly educated on different


tracks, ways in which a particular furbearer travels, tendencies in which they prefer to navigate and the impact human invasion has on their natural movement. We may never fully understand what drives any given furbearer to take a certain trail or investigate a particular lure. With time and patience we can one day have a fine tuned arsenal of knowledge to effectively hang fur year after year.

Taking part in a tradition rich in history, I have found myself consumed with the entire trapping experience. Whether it be assembling my own traps or staking out new tracks of land, trapping has become just one more of my outdoor addictions. We cannot forget, however, that abusing what opportunities we have at our finger tips may ultimately be the demise of this great tradition. Making sure to leave the outdoors as we found it and abiding by the often confusing and lengthy regulations will ensure our privilege to trap for many years to come. As the late Charles Dobbins said, “Treat ALL things that don’t belong to you the same as if it was yours…this includes land.” I just want to close with a poem written by another decorated trapper who summarizes why we continue this tradition.


Why Do We Do Trapping ?

David “Pelts” Simmons

Why do we do trapping? Ain’t no mystery. I’m sure most of us have our own theory.

The old timers told us trapping is great, When we’re out on the trap line,

It’ll make our blood cells circulate.It’s good for our lungs and great for our tickers.

It gets you in shape and there’s nothing quicker.

Feels so healthy and feels so sweet, Driving in stakes and making sets complete.

Trapping sharpens up our minds, Moulds the muscles and firms our form. You pant like a K9 and sweat up a storm.

It keeps us youthful and really keeps us loose, It tightens up our tummies and shrinks our caboose.

Sure beats being sluggish. Sure gets us in condition.

Why do we do trapping? Why?

What a wonderful old tradition!



WOODS COME ALIVE During Bowhunting Boredom

BY BRET AMUNDSON

As I was running out of chances, a special experience ensued in the bow stand.

I have a waterproof container the size of a box of 3 ½ shells full of licenses and tags. I can’t complain one bit about what, where and when I was able to hunt this fall. But I have this nag-ging feeling every time I open that box.

“I’m still in herrrrreee!” An eerie voice calls from inside.“Meee tooooooo, bwahahahhahhahaha!” Calls another. Two unfilled tags have been heckling me for the last few

weeks. One in particular, my Minnesota bow tag, has me frus-trated. The other, my ND swan tag (that I finally applied for) may

spend a long, lonely, unfulfilled life. For the last few years, it was inevitable that we’d get one or

two white jumbo cargo planes to swing low over our decoys if there was a good slough nearby. No one ever bothered to get a tag however. So this year I decided to apply for the North Dakota Swan Lottery. Soon after, I proceeded to get a job with a Minne-sota magazine and do most of my hunting on the east side of the Red River, considerably hindering my quest for the great white bird.


Of course, every time I went bow hunting near Moorhead I saw swans everywhere. If only the ND tag worked in MN.

This was the first year I’ve bow hunted in the land of 10,000 lakes and the season started off promising. I’m completely hooked on early season bow hunting, and once I had a place to go that was within a half hour, my fall itinerary was full of white out. I had land that was close by and full of deer. I passed on some does and a couple small bucks only to have all them all pack up and forward their mail to a new zip code once the gun season began. Since then it’s been like try-ing to find the new toy that every kid wants the day before Christmas.

I decided to bring my bow to Watson, MN during my recent goose-turned-pheasant trip “just in case”. I’d like to put one more deer in the freezer and time is running out!

My dad, brother and nephew trudged


through waist deep snow, snarled cattails and buckthorn thick enough to make us question our sanity. A few cackling roosters breaking free from their snowy shelters always makes everything better. After sending the guys on their way home Sunday after-noon, I made the executive decision to stay another night and sit in the stand with bow in hand.

Eight deer were spotted walking right by a vacant stand about 100 yards away. Another executive decision was made. I’d be turning on the no vacancy sign on that stand and getting comfortable.

I knew where they’d be coming from and what time. I had ranged the distance and climbed up early enough to go unnoticed. Now, I just needed to wait. The wind could be a problem as it was blowing across the small food plot I was hunting over. I was protected as the deer entered, but if they’d make it too far in, I’d be busted.

I brought the camera along and while I waited, I watched the food plot come alive. I’d seen roosters use this the day before and hoped they’d return. They didn’t, but a number of their smaller cousins did and I snapped away, suddenly becoming a bird watcher.

A rabbit made the unfortunate decision to wander by at 23 yards and now hasenpfeffer is on the menu.

Finally, just as predicted the dinner bell rang and a few whitetails came scampering across the field to my south. As I mentioned, the wind could be an issue so I was hoping the biggest deer would come first. Nope, it was Bambi. Literally. I’m pretty sure I could see spots. There may have been a nervous buck still following with a video camera trying to capture the birth.

The next deer to come into range was bigger, but not as big as I was hoping for. I really hoped her bigger sister was next.

Two more babies followed with noisemakers and cham-


www.mnsportingjournal.com

pagne, while I was left counting down until I was discovered. A very narrow window of opportunity was closing fast as the doe was now out of range and close to entering my “scent cone”. Des-perately, I glanced south searching for more walking steaks but none were present. Then, just like that, the doe popped her nose up in the air, looked right at me and disappeared quicker than the spiked eggnog at a Christmas party.

I had a chance and that’s all you can ask for. Even if I ask for a wall hanger every time I’m out, is that wrong? As I’m writing this, there is still two weeks left of the bow season. I do have a trail cam in a new location back home and haven’t checked it yet, so I’ll pack up and head home with visions of big black and white deer staring back at me dancing in my head. My only stop will be picking up the memory card and downloading it while finish-ing the drive home. It’s like Christmas morning and I’m tearing downstairs, 3 steps at a time, to rip apart that first present with my name on it. Hopefully Santa gets me what I’ve been asking for.

I’m pretty sure I’ve been kinda nice this year.


YOUTH MOVEMENTTHE DYLAN BEACH BUCK

Dylan’s story is both an incredible big buck story and an example of promoting youth in the outdoors.

Watch out 56” muskies, 34” walleyes and other awe-inspiring trophies! Twelve-year-old Dylan Beach of Motley, Minnesota may decide to expand into other areas of hunting and fishing. You may have seen the gnarled 28-point rack that has been making the rounds on the interwebs. That’s Dylan smiling while struggling to get his fingers all the way around the baseball bat sized beams.

Dylan Beach and his once in a lifetime bruiser!

At age 12, you might guess that this was his first time deer hunting. Nope.

“I’ve gone deer hunting for three years,” Dylan informed me. But this is your first deer though, right?

“No, I’ve shot three other deer.” This kid is someone to be reckoned with!

The Minnesota monster came out of the Sebeka area and showed up fairly early on opening morning. As Dylan tells it:

“I got in my stand at 7:14 a.m. and he came out at 7:41. He was about 100 yards out there…he walked about 50 yards towards me, then he turned broadside and I shot him. He fell over and got up, then he ran a little bit and fell over again.”

And just like that, his hunting prowess would be forever changed. Men will bow in his presence out of respect. Animals would cower and then run in fear when he loads up his armament


of choice. Women will…well we don’t need to get into that until he’s a bit older.

As remarkable as this story is, an even more respectable as-pect is that of his stepdad, Wilbur Verbeck. Verbeck introduced Dylan to the outdoors, taking him deer hunting. Each year, Dylan has had success with smaller deer, and this season the two were together when the 28 pointer came into view. Verbeck let the 12-year-old pull the trigger on the once in a lifetime buck. You’d have to think there’d be some temptation in letting him shoot the next deer while you harvest this one yourself. But, that’s not what happened here.

What happened was a great example of passing on the tradition to our youth, an offering of unselfishness, leadership and sportsmanship that we all could learn from. Both Dylan and Verbeck should be commended in this situation.

The unnamed deer will be a permanent fix-ture in Dylan’s house, “right above our fireplace,” he said. I told him he should name it “Cactus”, because of all the points on his head.

He’s being contacted from people all over wanting to hear his story. Shooting a deer that has a green score of 241+ that could rank high, not just in Minnesota, but maybe in the world, can have that effect.

Before I let this 12 year old veteran of the hardwoods get back to dinner, I asked for some

advice for other hunters looking to bag the buck of a lifetime.“Stay out there all day”, Dylan offered.That is probably the best advice you could give. Since I

missed out on “Brutus” last Saturday when I climbed down from my stand for lunch, his words struck a familiar chord with me. I wish I would have talked to him sooner.

Congrats on a great hunt! ~ Bret Amundson


At the end of the season, a freezer full of wild game can really make a person feel fulfilled. Now is the time to get creative with new recipes and utilize the fruits of your labor before next season starts. This gumbo recipe will warm you up during these cold winter months and has been known to convert some wild game nay-sayers. Don’t be intimidated by the long list of ingredi-ents; most are pantry staples.

CHEF’S CORNERDUCK AND SAUSAGE GUMBO

BY ROBERT KING

IT’S EASY!

1. Melt butter in a large soup pot, stir in flour to make a roux and cook stirring often for at least 10 minutes on med-low heat until it turns golden brown and has a nutty smell.

2. While cooking the roux, dice your veg-gies and gather your spices.

3. Stir the duck into the roux and cook for 1 minute, then add the onion, peppers, celery, garlic, and sausage. Cook on medium heat for 10 minutes.

4. Add the tomatoes, tomato paste, worces-tershire, tabasco, water, and all of the season-ings.

5. Simmer for 45 minutes to 1 hour stirring occasionally until slightly thickened.

6. Serve over white rice.

INGREDIENTS

• 1 pound Duck breasts cut in large chunks

• 1 pound Deer sausage sliced (or andouille sausage)

• 4 Tbsp butter

• 2/3 cup Flour

• 1 large onion

• 1 green bell pepper

• 1 red bell pepper

• 4 stalks celery

• 4 cloves garlic

• 2 Tbsp tomato paste

• 1 pint diced tomatoes (14.5 oz can)

• 1½ Tbsp Worcestershire sauce

• 1 tsp Tabasco (or to taste)

• 1/8 tsp cayenne (optional)

• 1 tsp salt

• ½ tsp black pepper

• 1 tsp thyme

• ½ tsp oregano

• 4 cups water

• Hot cooked rice


WHO NEEDS SOUTH DAKOTA?Governor Mark Dayton addressed the 300+ attendees at the

Governor’s Pheasant Opener Banquet at Southwest Minnesota State University in Marshall with one clear message: Who needs South Dakota?

South Dakota may stake it’s claim as the premier pheasant hunting destination, but Minnesota held it’s own this weekend. A quick scan across a swath of prairie grass revealed numerous orange vests with pointy tail feathers jutting out the sides.

Each group that left “camp” on the lawn of SMSU returned at noon with birds in hand. Governor Dayton didn’t quite get lucky, but plenty of birds were cleaned by a couple of (un) lucky volunteers.

Hunters from all walks of life were seen afield. Action Track Chairs were crawling across the landscape. Big dogs, small dogs, retrievers and pointers all weaved back and forth, sniffers to the ground.

Despite the warm and dry conditions, plenty of birds were flushed. In fact enough birds were flushed to make you forget that you were in Minnesota.

Governor Dayton started the Governor’s Pheasant Opener last year after a couple years of being prodded by Rep. Collin Pe-terson. Peterson took Dayton out to the Montevideo area 3 years ago and did a little arm-twisting. In the relatively short time, it’s clear that this event is here to stay.

An entertaining Governor took to the podium Friday night, aimed across the border to the west and let ‘er rip with both barrels. Say-ing “why should South Dakota get all the credit? Pheasants don’t know where the border is.” The line of the night may have been his suggestion that if he doesn’t bag a bird, then maybe one can be dropped from a helicopter nearby for him.

Although a close second was when the Governor thought that people there cared more who the DNR Commissioner was than the Governor, pointing to DNR Commish Tom Landwehr and referencing Landwehr’s comments earlier about the need for more pheasant habitat

IN THE COMMUNITYGOVERNOR’S PHEASANT OPENER

Marshall, Minnesota hosted Governor Mark Dayton for the 2013 Governor’s Pheasant Opener.

saying, “Tom if you’re for grass, then I’m for grass… maybe we should clarify what kind of grass we’re talking about”.

Collin Peterson’s message to the crowd was the need to find a way to stop destroying habitat. The need for big sections for wildlife as small acreage of CRP won’t do it, because predators will clean out any birds in the area. The larger tracts of wild are needed to give pheasants, ducks and other wildlife enough area to avoid becoming lunch. ~ Bret Amundson


GOOSE FEST - NORTHWEST MNNorthwest Minnesota is home to an event that will impress any true waterfowler.

The Thief River Falls and Middle River areas graciously hosted the 2012 Goose Fest, a gathering of dedicated waterfowlers and an event promoting what the area of Northwest Minnesota has to offer.

The City of Thief River Falls hosted the MNSJ crew and pro-vided a significantly memorable experience. The event included everything from a welcome dinner, an aerial nature tour of Agas-siz National Wildlife Refuge and Thief Lake Wildlife Management Area, Call of the Goose Sporting Clays Challenge, Goose Cook-off, Goose Calling Contest, and Goose Parade.

The event was well organized and a great experience was

had by all. Hunts were available for those with shotguns and retrievers in tow. the birds were there, and those who hunted had good success.

In particular, the aerial nature tour was a special treat. It provided a literal birds-eye view of habitat frequented by water-fowl and other wildlife. Many hunters, outdoorsmen and con-servationists do not get to see such habitat in this fashion. Thank you to Goose Fest for providing this opportunity.

The event signified the gathering of true waterfowl enthusi-asts and would be recommended for anyone who hunts, photo-graphs ducks and geese.


MINNESOTA DEER CLASSICNational Sports Center acquires Minnesota Deer Classic from long-time owner Hugh Price.

The National Sports Center (NSC) in Blaine announced that it has reached an agreement with Hugh Price, the long-time owner of the Minnesota Deer Classic, to acquire the iconic 30-year old event and move it to the NSC campus.

The event is scheduled for Friday-Sunday, March 8-10, 2013; it is projected to draw 6,000-10,000 attendees at its new venue.

By utilizing the NSC facilities, the event will be able to accommodate about 170 booths. And in addition, Classic director Greg Savino said the NSC will be able to offer some new activities not feasible at the State Fairgrounds.

“We’re looking at using some of the other available space at the NSC to hold events that would be fun for a hunt-ing audience,” said Savino. “You might see an archery 3D competition, a dog shed antler hunting event, or some other creative enhancements that we’re working on. You might even see some outdoor events.”

The Deer Classic will have a strong commitment to education, with seminars and workshops scheduled through-out the weekend.

Price started the Minnesota Deer Classic in 1982. Earlier this year, he indicated a desire to sell the show and retire. The NSC and Price have been in discussions about the Classic for several months.

“We’re proud to be able to step in and continue the tradition of the Minnesota Deer Classic,” said Savino. “We’re respectful of everything Hugh has built with this event. For him, it has been a labor of love and a way to invest in build-ing the Minnesota hunting resource. We hope to continue his proud legacy.”

Price will stay involved with the Deer Classic as a consultant. He will also retain ownership of the Minnesota Record Book, the Deer Classic’s signature publication, in which hunters come to the Deer Classic to register notewor-thy antlers, as measured on the Boone-and-Crockett and Pope-and-Young system.

The Deer Classic joins the NSC’s growing stable of

outdoor sports shows, including the Minnesota Anglers Expo, February 8-10, 2013 and the Great Waters Fly Fishing Expo, March 22-24, 2013.

For more information:Barclay Kruse, NSC Chief Communications Officer763.785.5634 office763.458.6615 cell [email protected]

http://www.nscsports.org/


MNSJ: Tell everyone about Nicole Weller.

NW: Well, I’m a bowhunter from Minnesota, and I’ve been bowhunting since I was 15, so I guess, I’m pretty familiar with the sport.

MNSJ: The Ultimate Outdoor Adventures TV Facebook page, grabbed my attention originally, then I kept hearing from people saying, “Did you see that picture?” You had a chance recently to do some bowhunting in North Dakota, is that right?

NW: Yes I did, I’ve actually been out there a couple times, but this was the first year I was able to fill my bow tag, so it’s

not exactly easy bow hunting to say the least.

MNSJ: Tell me about your hunt.

NW: Well, it was my first spot and stalk style whitetail I guess you could put it. The weather was pretty cold, and it was ideal for bowhunting. AnyNorth Dakota bowhunter knows, it’s very difficult to hunt ravines with our wind was wrong every time. So we ended up going up top on this huge cornfield to scout. We happened to notice a buck bedded about 600 yards away. He was bedded about 15 yards off the edge of a field and was sunning himself. He stuck out like a sore thumb. We decided to put a stalk on him.

MNSJ INTERVIEWNICOLE WELLER

The Central Minnesota Artist and Outdoorswoman sits down with the MNSJ.

FOR MORE INFORMATION ABOUT NICOLE’S WORK, CHECK OUT:

www.nicolekweller.com


We walked out, and the wind was just whipping as we snuck down the edge of the ravine. I walked around the corner and didn’t see anything, looked back at my fiancé, Brent, and said “he left”. All of a sudden, I caught movement out of the corner of my eye, and here’s this big rack sitting in the brush. I thought “ohhhh, here he is! I can’t believe it!” I turned to look at Brent, he had the camera rolling….I had to pick out a tiny little spot to shoot, I came to full draw and I held the pin on him, and he wouldn’t get up. So I took another step and he still wouldn’t get up, so I took another step and he finally caught my wind. If he had gone right, I wouldn’t have been able to shoot him, but he went left, and he hit my little tiny hole and I threaded the needle, so to speak. My arrow disappeared, he went 30 yards, and it was over.

MNSJ: There was a camera rolling? We will see some foot-age of this?

NW: Yeah we will have video…we do webisodes so we’ll be putting it out there for people to see it.

MNSJ: Do you have a website that it will be on?

NW: We’re working on it, www.fieldofdreamstv.com, …that’s where all of our footage from everything we do, we have tons of footage of turkey hunts and whitetails hunts and all that goes on there.

MNSJ: How long have you been bow hunting and what got you into it?

NW: Since I was 15, I’m 27 now.…I grew up on a farm, a racehorse and hog farm and nobody in my family really hunts-I’m a wildlife artist. So when I was a kid I’d go out all the time, and I’d watch the deer and the turkeys and I’d sit and sketch. I guess eventually one day I said, “I wanna go hunt one of those,” and I went out and I’ll never forget my first trip. I got into an old rickety stand that was left on the property for who knows how long, and I ended up killing my first deer. I’ve been hooked since.

MNSJ: That’s a great story, and there are a lot women getting into hunting and bow hunting, but a lot will say “my boyfriend/husband got me into it”, but to get into on your own like that is a great story.

NW: …I’m glad there are so many women getting into the sport for sure, but it’s definitely different not having some-one to mentor you. I’ve had my fair share of mistakes, missing deer, not knowing about the wind and everything else, you name it, I’ve probably been there.

MNSJ: You mentioned that you’re a wildlife artist, www.NicoleKWeller.com, this stuff is beautiful.

NW: Thank you…it goes hand in hand with what I do. I live to hunt and fish and (with) turkey feathers, I’ve seen it done before. I tried it out myself and it’s awesome. You can’t replicate it, and to me it’s very unique. I try to be the best I can be.

MNSJ: Do you mainly work on turkey feathers?

NW: I’ve done tons of paintings, I’ve done sponsorship paintings for Quality Deer Management Association, Min-nesota Deer Hunter’s Association…they’ve actually sold my originals, which I’ve learned now at an older age, that I prob-ably shouldn’t give away my originals anymore, but I still do on my turkey feathers, so I paint a lot. I’ve competed in the Min-nesota Duck Stamp, and I placed in high school twice.

MNSJ: What’s the weirdest thing you’ve painted on?

NW: An alligator skull. He had me paint a scene of an alligator skull.

MNSJ: What’s next? TV?

NW: Yeah, it’s really difficult, and that I’ve been told by tons and tons of people. I know it’s really hard to get into the industry right now and especially with us being the underdogs, but we’re still gonna try. It takes a lot of time, a lot of money and a lot of effort, but it’s definitely something that I wanna do.

MNSJ: What would a dream hunt for Nicole Weller be?

NW: Chasing elk in New Mexico. That’s where the big bulls live, and that’s where I want to be. I’ve won a couple mouth calling contests with my own voice…It sounds really dumb, but I’ve won it with a loon, a cow elk and a turkey.


The MNSJ would like to specially thank Nicole for all she does to promote the outdoors.

MNSJ: You know I’m going to ask you to do it right now, right?

NW: (laughs) Yes, but I won’t do it over the phone, it will probably sound terrible! I call in my own turkey all the time…I went into my backyard and was hiding behind a decoy with my bow. It took some convincing, but he eventually liked what I was saying to him, and he came running right in, I was face to face with him literally with my bow. It was the biggest rush ever.

MNSJ: We should congratulate you on becoming engaged during your trip to ND.

NW: It was very surprising for me, totally unexpected, but I guess I wouldn’t have it any other way.

MNSJ: Did he stick the ring inside the deer so when you were gutting it, you’d find it?

NW: (laughs) No, that would have been creative, but he was in his own creative way…he said “lets take some pictures of your deer together”. So we had the camera on the tripod and took a couple pictures. I’d run over and look at the picture and say “let’s change this or this”…the last photo I got up to look at it, and here he was holding something in the picture and I looked down and said “what do you have in your hand!” He was kneeling right there next to my deer with my ring, so I was pretty surprised.

MNSJ: Well congratulations!


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Minnesota Sporting Journal - Winter 2013