I know I'm probably preaching to the choir on this one, but it's been a strange ice season, to say the least. Ice conditions are literally historically "goofy". That said, if you are smart (and I'm taking liberty with that. After all, we are ice anglers), you can find good ice a fair amount of spots.
I started the year up around Grand Rapids with Northland pro Greg Clusiau and buddy Blake Liend. We found plenty of nice crappies on good ice. Heck, it was 40 degrees out too. An amazing day on the ice with good people!
Nice fish Greg! Wher e did we find them? You'll have to ask Greg!
IBill and Blake with dandys!
I followead up twith a Christmas trip down to Southern Minnesota. a
St. James Lake
The Otter Pro Thermal looked a little lonely out on St. James Lake! My sisters-in-law proved St. James still has fish, even after the big winter kill a year or so ago!
Ellie and Zoie with a Whopper!
The best part about fishing with Zoie and Ellie? I've always got plenty of help getting the Otter off the ice, well, at least from Zoie...
This week, we snuck up to Mille Lacs with buddy Chris Kuduk and Woody Sankey and, of course, we found plenty of nice perch.
Woody and ChrisWhere exactly on Mille Lacs? Ha! You'll have to ask Chris! But, check this out! Here are a few quick snapshots from the new Aqua-Vu Micro underwater camera. Amazing clarity in the palm of my hand. I could see finicky takes neither my electronics nor my rod could pick up and I caught a pile of fish using the camera. Thanks Aqua-Vu!
As we drove west towards the blaze orange glow of the disappearing sun, buddy Jacob Gibb giggled from his passenger seat. Minutes earlier, we jumped out at the country gas station to load up on dried-out slices of lamp-heated pizza, weak coffee and old Dolly Madison dessert cakes. Jacob had also insisted we swing through the taco drive-through we passed on our way out of town. Our quick "grab and go" dinner had become something quite foul and Jacob laughed as he was first to share his less than desirable reaction to the food. In the rear-view mirror I could see photojournalist Aaron Achtenberg's sour look. Soon enough, he giggled too and we drove on, all four truck windows cranked wide open.
Months before we had brainstormed an upland road trip. Why not try and hunt three states in three days and document the whole thing for our television shows? We'd pack the truck with hunting gear, Jacob's 3-year-old black lab and drive. Our plan was to hunt far-western Minnesota, then drive up to North Dakota where we'd camp behind the truck and then hunt sharpies and pheasants on public land. Our final stop would be Daybreak Lodge in South Dakota where we'd walk fields alongside our Aberdeen Million Dollar Bird Hunt winners. Aaron would document the trip with his video cameras. Jacob would do the same with his still cameras. Last Wednesday, we packed the truck, threw in a big tin of Tums and hit the road.... Our Road West
First stop was the Montevideo area to hunt alongside Pheasants Forever Biologist Eran Sandquist and local Pheasants Forever chapter president Tom Brusven. We hunted both private and public land, kicking up just enough birds to keep the hunting slow, but steady.
Good Retrieve Tucker!
We called that first hunt mid-afternoon and headed north and west towards Hankinson, North Dakota. The plan was to set up tents behind the trucks on the national wildlife refuges and get up early the next morning and hunt. Our first challenge came moments later when a text came in from Jesse Beckers, our North Dakota buddy and Pheasants Forever Regional Biologist. It read, "We can't find a single bird." "Change in plan." "Head west!" So, we did. Three hourse later, we pulled into a motel in the small farmtown of Edgely, North Dakota. The good news? We traded in sleeping bags and cold tents for motel beds... Edgely's CafeNext morning, we filled up on hearty breakfasts at the local cafe and hooked up with Jesse and his buddy Matt Olson, who also works for Pheasants Forever. Together, we decided to hunt two or three PLOTS properties, which are privately-owned, but open to public hunting. We moved just outside the area where hail had been a big problem all year and started hunting. We found a few roosters and even a couple sharptail grouse. Jesse Beckers and His Hunting Buddy For sure, the bird numbers were down. Was it the tough winters? Maybe the wet, cold spring and summer hail? What about the burning slews all around us as farmers tried to milk every inch of their land to make a few extra bucks? Whatever the reason, we could clearly see bird numbers down in Minnesota first, and now North Dakota. More Pheasant Habitat Burning Up!
North Dakota Birds! Our last stop would be Daybreak Lodge just north of Aberdeen, South Dakota. There, we hooked up with Eric Mathiowetz, winner of our Aberdeen promotion. He'd signed up online to win a two day hunt at the lodge. Eric brought along his brother, Todd Dahna, another diehard bird hunter. The SD Hunting Party We all awoke our first morning to the smell of fresh-baked cinnamon rolls and thick bacon. After downing a few mugs of hot coffee, we loaded the lodge bus and headed out to one of Daybreak's best draws. Morgan and Mark Haglin Mark Haglin and his son Morgan run Daybreak. They also guide and run some of the best English Springer Spaniels we've ever seen. Excited to Hunt! Morgan directed the dogs as we walked prairie draws and bottoms along the Elk River. We found plenty of birds, although we never really saw classic South Dakota numbers, yet another sign that the bird population is down. Rooster! After harvesting a good number of roosters, we finished our Daybreak Lodge hunt around the campfire. Lots of talk about missed birds, jammed guns, badger holes, all the stuff we love about hunting. An Evening CampfireWhile the campfire flickered in front of us, Jacob happened to notices something up on the rivge above camp and snapped a quick shot. The Hillside Above Daybreak Lodge Funny, but as we drove home on Sunday, Jacob, Aaron and I were still laughing outloud. I guess that's aJ good sign that our first ringneck roadtrip was a success. Guess we'll be planning another for 2012. I'll keep you all posted...
Enjoy all the photos from Jacob Gibb Photography! Watch for a spread in Pheasants Forever's Magazine sometime in 2012!
I wasn't hoping for much as I stepped off the airplane in Idaho. Granted, we were headed to North America's deepest canyon, Hells Canyon, on the ultimate upland adventure, but it was the phone call I'd taken two days before that had me a bit worried. My buddy had called to tell me he had several friends out scouting the area we'd be hunting pheasants and huns and they hadn't seen a single bird....Not a single bird. My stomach dropped. Four months of planning and my Hells Canyon adventure was about to completely bomb. A Lewiston, Idaho Sunset First evening in Idaho, photjournalist Aaron Achtenberg and I drove to Lewiston and hooked up with local contact and Fish and Game worker Jim "JJ" Teare. We snuck out of town to get a few sunset shots and gameplan our first day of hunting. JJ had us set up on a ranch just east of town. I fell asleep that first night dreaming we'd at least see a couple of birds.... Pre-Hunt Carbs! I was up before the sun and a bit birdy as we gulped down hot mugs of coffee and chowed on lumberjack-sized breakfasts. JJ made sure his wirehair had eggs too! Bess Likes Her Eggs Scrambled! We hooked up with a few others in our hunting party and geared up to hunt. We snuck up a few coulees and draws and darn if the pointers didn't lock up in the first twenty minutes. A second later, I recognized that all-familiar cackle as two hens and a rooster flushed from the thick cover. Idaho Habitat All day long, we had slow but steady action and ended up seeing forty or fifty birds, including a couple coveys of huns. But really, I was more focused on the coming days. We were headed to Hells Canyon to chase chukars high in the mountains and maybe hook a steelhead in the river. Day One Take...
Hells Canyon is North America's deepest canyon. I always thought that title went to the Grand Canyon, which is about a mile deep. Turns out Hell's Canyon is about 8,000 feet deep.
Hells Canyon
We zipped upriver through rapids in JJ's jet boat and pulled up on a sandy beach where the dogs hopped out and we geared up to hike to elevation and hopefully find a few wild mountain chukars. The first five-hundred feet were a piece of cake. Slow and go as we moved up a brushy draw. That's when I hit the star thistle. Waist-high plants with giant thorns on top. I trudged through wide spreads of the stuff, cursing the stars and thorns poked me on every step. Within the hour, we made it up to roughly 1,300 feet above the river and started walking steep, brushy haunts, listening for the the cackle of chukars. Every once in awhile, you'd be hanging from a pile of shale rock on a steep mountain side and a cover of birds would suddenly blast off. It was downright tough to get a shot off without falling 500 feet! That's the lure of chukars. Tough birds that live in tough places.
Aaron Shooting
As we came off Craig Mountain, I was happy to have gravity dragging me down the mountain. Our legs were all pretty rubbery after seven hours up there. The highlight was to dunk our hot, burning feet in the Snake River's cold, healing waters. Looks like that mountain shale did a piece of work on my tired legs!
By evening, we had a handfull of birds and settled into the fish and game guest house along the river. Tomorrow, we'd be fishing steelhead in the Snake River's fast runs. This trip was suddenly turning into the adventure I had dreamed up... Mountain Chukars The View Behind Our Cabin Fall morning's in Hells Canyon tend to get a bit chilly. As we zipped up the river in moring haze to one of JJ's favorite steelie runs, the bite of the cold air pinched at our cheeks. Aaron had both cameras along, just in case we needed to ditch the fishing and hike up a hill to cackling chukars. In three hours, we hooked two fish, but landed neither. Guys got a little short as the fishing slowed. Finally, just before noon, I hooked and landed a nice 8 lb. fish on camera. We had just a few hours to get back into the mountains and find a few more birds on camera. Steelhead! As we stepped away from the jet boat and up on the first flat, the dogs locked up. A cover of huns flew and JJ and I knocked down two individuals. Over the next 90 minutes, we would several more coveys ofWhat had been a trip that looked so dismal became one of the most profound television shoots in my 18 year career. Hells Canyon
That night, as I packed my bags and laid down to get a few hours of sleep before the early morning flight home, I winced in pain from two days hunting Idaho's mountains. I had blisters on my feet, my legs stung from the remote mountain climb and the fields of prickly star thistle, but I smiled as I popped a couple aspirin. This kind of pain, I like….
*NOTICE TO ALL WHOM I OWE A RETURN EMAIL OR PHONE CALL* Don't take it personally.... I'm a bit behind on my "catchin' " up right now. Why? Well, it's "Go Time" around here.... Just hopped off a plane from Alberta, threw my dirty hunting clothes into the wash and will have them back in the luggage for a trip to Idaho just 48 hours from now. While our fall and winter season of Due North Outdoors is in full swing, we're also gathering 13 weeks of shows for our national upland hunting program, "Pheasants Forever Television". I'm busy documenting upland adventure hunts and I would say, our trip to Alberta DEFINATELY qualifies.....
Bow River and Canadian Rockies
Last Monday, we arrived in Calgary and fished the famed Bow River alongside long-time guide Bob Haysom, who also happens to head up Pheasants Forever Calgary. Last time I was up there, we lit up that darn river. I think we had two or three fish over 18 inches in roughly 2 hours of fishing. This trip, the river returned the favor.... In half a day of fishing on a perfect fall day without an ounce of wind, the Bow gave up exactly one fish. A darkly-colored rainbow trout. The good news? She was a dandy caught on camera from every angle. A nice Bow 'bow..... The fishing didn't matter much, because our real mission was to tackle Alberta's upland hunting scene. Tuesday morning, photojournalist Aaron Achtenberg and I were up and packed well before the sun made an appearance. Bob picked us up and the three of us crossed the foothills on the Eastern edge of the Canadian Rockies and documented an amazing Alberta sunrise. See the deer? A pile of GIANT mule deer also made an appearance. Makes for some beautiful television. More mule deer About 60 kilometers and an hour later, we geared up in blaze orange and headed, on foot, up a steep coulee in search of sharptail grouse. Turns out, the area south of Calgary is supposed to be one of the best spots on the planet to chase sharpies. You could have fooled me... Four hours into our "mountainside" hunt, we hadn't seen a single bird. Suddenly, this Alberta adventure was turning into potential nightmare. We'd had slow fishing the day before and now the birds weren't cooperating either. We did scare out a couple of the biggest mule deer bucks I've ever seen. Just wait 'til you see the video... Our second coulee I continued to hike the steep, grassy hillside and started thinking. "What if I we don't get any birds and I go home to a steaming-mad boss?" "Geez, I spent two months getting this trip together and now I'm gonna get fired." I could feel the sweat dribbling down my back under my Filson vest and I started to get even more nervous. Suddenly, eight birds flushed right in front of me. The dog had not scented them. I just flushed them mindlessly walking the coulee. Without thinking, I mounted my Browning and pulled the trigger. The flushing bird directly in front of me dropped. At that same moment, I noticed another bird flying off to my left. I pivoted and instinctively pulled the trigger and the second grouse fell. My first true double on sharpies. I looked at Aaron, camera hanging on his shoulder, and we smiled. Those ten seconds of flushing pandemonium completley changed our attitudes. Over the next half hour, we documented several more sharptail flushes and we left that darn coulee with a greatly improved outlook. Our take... That afternoon, we made a quick stop on our way down to the town of Medicine Hat at a historic Canadian site called "Head Smashed In". While it sounds a bit rough, it's actually a very cool destination. It's the spot in Southern Alberta where the prairie people once ran herds of buffalo off the cliffs. Below those cliffs, researchers have discovered bone fragments nearly 12 meters deep, dating as far back as 6,000 years ago. This is how, long ago, people gathered food and materials for clothing, shelter, tools, you name it. Head Smashed In; The cliffs... A pretty amazing stop if you find youself in Alberta. We woke up the next morning in Medince Hat just a little bit sore, but ready for a full day of pheasant hunting with members of the local Pheasants Forever Chapter. I chuckled as I pulled open the barbed wire fence along our first coulee. Ever heard of the Chinooks? They're famous, or should I say infamous winds up in that part of the world and they were blowin. Forcast called for winds to 15 kilometers per hour. My pants flapped and I almost lost my hat. Turns out the weather lady had it wrong. We were getting ready to hunt in a full gale. We dropped into the first coulee and the dogs put up two hens and a rooster almost immediately. In that wind, no one had a shot at the rooster. He was gone in the blink of an eye. For the next three hours, not a single bird. Aaron and I once again looked at each other and I could tell we were thinkin' the same thing; "What the heck did we do to deserve hunts like this?" That afternoon, we finally found two spots where Aaron was able to document plenty of flushes and falling birds. As we walked out of our final haunt, we both let out a tired sigh of relief... Alberta turned out to be one of the most intense shoots I've ever been part of. Guess that's why I didn't feel too guilty bellying up to a hot plate of poutine and a tall glass of Alberta "ceasar". Canadian junk food! I'll have the bags packed shortly and a trip update from Idaho. Hell's Canyon, here we come. We'll be chasing chukkars and steelhead on the Snake River....
"Holy Rapalas..." The words just spilled out of my mouth as I walked into the production room filled with more than one-hundred-thousand Rapalas. I would quickly come to understand that these storied baits are MUCH closer to a form of religion than just another tackle-box filler. This story starts with a bad case of jet lag. Let me explain…
Finland's Sokos Hotel Chandelier
Jet lag never quite kicked me like it did about week ago. Sitting at a hip dinner table under a rather strange-lookin' chandelier in a Finnish hotel restaurant, buddy Mark Fisher looked across the table at my baggy eyes and partially-slumped body. After he finally stopped chuckling, he said, "Just stay awake until nine tonight buddy and you'll be alright." "In the meantime, just drink this..." He slid a cold bottle of beer in front of me and we spent the next two hours waxing about the world around us and all that is fishy. The Beer.... I'd been up about 30 hours and was still kicking.......barely. I had three hours until Mark’s 9 pm curfew. See, first I'd taken a late-afternoon flight from Minneapolis to Amsterdam. After a morning layover, which included a tiny cup of overly-strong Lavazza coffee and a classic European sandwich that tasted like a sack of salted bass plastics, I climbed onto another plane and zipped north a few hours to Helsinki. Now I was sitting in that hotel restaurant just a few miles from the very home of Lauri Rapala. Let's just say the jet lag took a back seat as I realized the adventure that was about to unfold… My Hotel Room Monitor.... Ha!
After a rough night of rest, our small entourage walked through the front door of Rapala's main production plant and got to work documenting the birth of a bait. Finland's Rapala Plant It's downright magical to see. Trust me. Plant manager Arto Nygren showed us every step in the process. In here, about 160 Finnish workers build baits from scratch. Arto and Bill Discussing the Finer Points of RapalasRapala's Magic Machine... This cool machine spins balsa and other light woods into rough baits. While we weren't able to shoot these machines up-close (think proprietary secrets), we were able to see the long pieces of wood spin in and the end result spit out. Literally buckets full. Baits Popping Out! Get this. In an average day, Rapala crafts 50,000 baits. Yep. FIFTY-THOUSAND....Almost unimaginable. We saw workers hand-wrap foil onto baits just as Lauri Rapala did 75 years ago. Hand-Wrapping Foil onto Baits While Rapala’s painting secrets are just that, Arto did allow us to open a door in one paint room and peek in as artists zipped their air brushes over hundreds of baits. Notice their chairs mounted on wheels, which allow them to zip back and forth over long stacks of baits. A Rapala Painter Looking at the drying racks is the strangest thing. NEVER have I seen so many baits in one spot. When I dream at night. This is what I see. Nick Shooting Rapalas
Holy Rapalas... That same afternoon we had a chance to go see the very first bait Lauri Rapala whipped up back in 1936. Rapala, a local lumberjack turned fisherman, shaped pine bark and wrapped it in foil from a chocolate wrapper. A buddy of Lauri’s was a photographer so he borrowed a few film negatives and melted them over that first bait to create a hard shell. The Very First Rapala Bait! Guess what? It caught fish, lots of them; So Lauri got to work in the bait business and the rest is, well, you know…
Lauri Rapala Cabin and Original Tools After our day at the Rapala plant, Rapala buddies Petri Varis and Teemu Makela joined us and we all road-tripped down to Petri’s cottage on the Baltic Sea. Our goal? Finland’s brackish northern pike!On the Baltic Sea w/ Petri!
First day on the water we fought heavy, heavy wind. What's the old joke? "How many liters in a mile?" I think Petri's translation equaled to something like 35 to 40 miles an hour. A strong breeze anywhere you are, especially on a sea! We did manage to land several fish on colorful Rapala Subwalks. The size 15s are bait of choice out there. Rapala Subwalks Ready for Action! Of course, Teemu landed big fish of the trip. Makes sense considering he owns one of two known Lund boats in Finland. The model? Mr. Pike. There you go… "Mr. Pike" in his Mr.Pike with Ms.Pike... Our other goal was to land a few of Finland’s infamous perch. We think we’ve got big ones around here? Well, here are a few Finnish perch.
You get the picture, er, pictures… I’m going to make you wait to watch the show to see exactly what we found...
We also had a little fun with our underwater gear and a few Rapalas. I think this might be a first of its kind!
Our last day in Finland, we decided to check out Rapala’s headquarters right in Downtown Helsinki. If you look really closely at the building, you should be able to notice something a bit unusual. See it? Rapala's Finland HQ
A Closer Look... Up on the third floor, a world record just waiting to happen. I’m wondering how the heck I’m going to get that thing in the Lund and troll it. A 9-Footer! I’ll get to work on that. Meantime, grab a normal Rapala out of the tackle box and take a good look at it. It really isn't just another bait. Rapalas are a form of religion I've learned to love each time a fish hits. "Holy Rapala...."
Watch for our Finland Rapala Special on Due North Outdoors. It's going to be a VERY special journey! I’ll keep you posted on air dates...
Thursday, December 29, 2011 at 11:47AM 
Nice fish Greg!
St. James Lake
Ellie and Zoie with a Whopper! 
Woody and ChrisWhere exactly on Mille Lacs? Ha! You'll have to ask Chris! But, check this out! Here are a few quick snapshots from the new Aqua-Vu Micro underwater camera. Amazing clarity in the palm of my hand. 
