Ben's Update

Here and There...

2012-02-06T20:28:44Z

I have been on a bit of a hiatus in the last two months but have had the chance to get out and do a little bit of everything.

To start it off I headed down to chase some open water Smallies and we really tore into them! The size has only been getting better, with a lot of fish pushing 4lbs. Get out as soon as you can, if you haven't already! I also tried out my underwater case for the first time, it is going to be an interesting endeavor.

The beginning of 2012 marked the release of the Minnesota Sporting Journal. A Minnesota based outdoor magazine, featuring high quality writing and photography. I was able to write both a column and feature for the inaugural issue. Please take a look at the website if you are interested mnsportingjournal

I also had the chance to get out on the ice a couple of times. We have been finding some awesome panfishing recently, with the lake spanning a massive 10 acres, a true gem.

A Taste Of Winter...

2011-12-15T15:06:58Z

I will be the first to tell you, my outdoor pursuits are not free of blunders. In many cases, if something can go wrong it will. More often than not, I am accompanied by one of my partners in crime, Dr. Jones.

We opted to throw all the ice fishing gear we could fit into a car for our journey, and looking like the Griswolds, we left the 701. The ride down I-94 was full of laughs; mostly pertaining to adventures that didn’t go so well, we both had a feeling this trip would be destined for a similar fate. There was excellent reasoning for this feeling, auger had not been started since last winter, neither of our Vexilars were charged, and fairly confident one of us would fall through the ice.

We arrived to the lake and began to unload the equipment onto our backs and slid out onto the ice. Did we have a sled, of course we didn’t. As we made our way out onto the ice, a sizable pressure ride sat between the honey hole and us. Now I have taken a spill into a pressure ridge or two, so I was a little skeptical. To anybody watching, we probably looked like a couple fawns taking our first steps, as we gingerly edged our way across it, and of course I made him go first.

The sound of the auger firing up and our dry clothes signaled the first victory of the day, we made it to our spot, on time, dry and would have holes to fish from. Now catching fish would be the main event.

As the sun began to sink in the western sky our flashers began to light up like a Christmas tree. The Doctor’s rod bent over and he started yelling in triumph no more than 5 minutes into our trip. We struck pay dirt, as one Walleye after another found its way up the hole. Early ice is a truly magical time for catching walleyes.

Normally the typical ice set-up includes a jigging rod in one hole, and a “dead stick” in the other hole. For most of the night, it was physically impossible to keep both rods in the water, as walleye after walleye took our offerings.

As the blanket of darkness fell upon us, the action continued. We called it a night, and slowly made our way across the ice back to the cabin. As we were walking along the shore with the lantern, I noticed something peculiar under the ice in the shallow clear water. Sure enough, upon further inspection, it was identified as a little Muskie clearly unafraid of us, simply a foot above his head. The nagging alarm ripped me back to reality, it was 6 a.m. and back to the grind. We hopped out to the same spot and continued where we left off, stacking up the Walleyes, having the time of our life.

The trip ended with us loading up all of our gear onto folding chairs and pushing them across the smooth ice, looking more like small children playing than adults.

Outings such as this are amazing and until recently, I thought it was what kept me coming back for more. After this weekend though, I think the times I will never forget is when everything goes to hell in a handbag. Reminiscing and laughing about those mistakes we call “experiences” is almost as fun as the perfect trip. From the stories and laughs hidden within every trip outdoors....Keep Livin' the Dream!

A Family Thanksgiving.....

2011-11-30T00:20:49Z

It has always been important for family to get together, especially for holidays! We find ourselves at my Uncle Todd & Aunt Melissa's house for turkey day and enjoy a day filled with family, the Green Bay Packers, Food, Football.....and Firearms?

After playing jungle gym and being used and abused during the football game on the behalf of my younger cousins, we broke out the pistols and everyone wanted a go at it!

I hope everybody had a fun holiday, we sure did!

Melissa shows great form as she handles a pistol for the first time!

Pete bringing the slum of Waconia into River Falls, Green and Gold Style.

Ms. Kenna Frisch harnessing the firepower!Rockin' the .40 calEyes open....Optional. Don't mess with the little sis, got that boys!

Ruined Duck Hunters.

2011-10-25T14:40:12Z

The last weekend marked quite a duck shoot in North Dakota. I was host to old friend and high school teacher Mr. Trapp, his dad, and friends Fitz and Henry. They were anticipating the morning hunt, and for good reason, we were sitting on a little duck mecca.

I sat there the night before watching duck after duck jump up and down, circling the water then the field. It was a hard decision, field or water. After seeing them plummet into the watering hole with reckless abandon, I knew our A.M. destination. I met up with the excited group early in the morning and after getting out into the slough, we had a little surprise. What appeared to be a tiny slough was indeed significantly larger, enough for a few hundred birds to roost on. If you are not familiar with waterfowling, hunting roosts is taboo. Us "blue platers" (Minnesotan's) get a bad rap for it, and after being in NoDak for 4 years I can see why. Fortunately 200-300 birds is a tiny roost, considering there were thousands using the pond. The ducks were dropping down hard into the pond and the four were tearing holes into the sky with vengeance. The shooting did get much better and eventually a limit of ducks hit the water.

That afternoon we hit the dusty trail scouting for a new honey hole. It must have been horrifying to them as we drove by fields of 200-500 geese because there was not quite enough cover or it just didn't look quite right. Eventually we found "Mrs. Right", and she was a real beauty. We must have ran into the calendar wave of migrators, as the weather was a balmy 50 degrees. There were beautiful plumed out greenheads, and plenty to go around. This little pothole actually marked my last hunt of the year 3 seasons ago, and it was a real doozy. As we waded into the cattails in the morning it was nothing like I remembered it. I couldn't even get up to the edge of the cattails before the water was lapping and spilling over my waders. We opted to set up on the blown out section on the edge of the swamp. The birds gave us an indication, it truly didn't matter where we were, they wanted in, and bad. We ended up with some amazing greenies on the ground, and one shooter with a bent barrel or closed eyes syndrome.

As they continued to hunt, I snuck up to find another spot for the coming morning. O boy did I find a spot. Another little transition pothole, with ducks so thick you couldn't see water. I walked over the hill and at 100 yards away all I could hear was water splashing around and ducks chatting away. I came back with a good verdict and we were set for the upcoming morning.

Shock was the only word to describe the next morning, as wave after wave of ducks pilled into this hole. It was just killing them to wait for adequate light to identify the drakes. I gave the green light and ol' bent barrel went on a running riot, knocking bird after bird out of the clear blue sky. We ended up with another limit of Mallards, and some very happy hunters. As they left I apologized to them...for ruining Minnesota duck hunting for life. From the gossiping Mallards of the Midwest...Keep Livin' the Dream!

Ducks to the Max...

2011-10-09T16:30:36Z

It's one of those hunts where everything just falls into place, truly what brings me back to waterfowl hunting. I was joined by good friend Mike Max from WCCO and Jens Larsen in search of nothing but mallards. I was out scouting the night before, and all but mallards were abundant. For the life of me, I couldn't find a good field. I was talking to my scouting partner Jens about how traditionally this was an excellent area. No sooner than the words jumped out of my mouth, a group of triple digits jumped out of what I presumed to be a flooded year old corn field. After seeing them flood out of the spot, my confidence was peaked. Fast forward two hours and it couldn't be more opposite. When going down and inspecting the area, it was dry. Only a dried up slough, and a feather couldn't be found. Jens and I hoofed it around for a long while searching for a trace of poop or even a feather so we could pinpoint their location.

We cut our losses and figured an area full of old corn cobs was the spot they were feeding in. The morning came quickly, after meeting up with Mike, we were off to our morning hotspot. All we had with us was a dozen full body decoys, three spinning wing decoys and layout blinds. The morning sun rose, and the ducks once again didn't show. I knew the ducks were using this spot, but my nerves were still running high. This was magnified by the first flock, which chose a new location in our field about 100 yards too far away from our landing zone. The plan was to stick with our guns and wait out the morning spot. It was a great decision as a sizable flock met our firepower and fell from the sky. The best part of the morning was a flock more fit to be HALO jumpers than ducks came in. This flock dropped in a matter of 100 yards, 300 hundred vertical yards. All Jens could say was "Benny I can't stop shaking." It makes the hunt so special, to see another friend feel the passion of waterfowling like I do. We ended up filling our bag full of mallards, and for the time being quenched Jens' and Mike's thirst (for the morning at least). I have been able to get out recently and the ducks are still flying. From passion filled corn fields of ND...Keep Livin' the Dream!

On Your Marks......

2011-09-27T03:55:49Z

I have had a run of good luck in last few years with the ducks of North Dakota, and it doesn't look like this year will be any different. The weekend started out a little hectic for me, getting back from prescribed burns at 12-am, throwing my gun & gear in the truck, and heading out into the thick of things. The slough we had previously scouted was once again loaded with Mallards, Alex & Eric had found the prime pocket and set up our enticing decoy spread. I was running a bit late, and when I felt my truck sink into 2 feet of mud, time was running late. After I was pulled out of my sink hole, we hustled through a winding trail in the cattails before we reached one of the most beautiful things I have seen in my life.

This pocket in the slough was tiny, and a few decoys filled it in nicely, as I admired with drool falling from my mouth. As the clock struck shooting time, the ducks were absent. I was a little puzzled, but choked on my words as a flock of mallards so large, conventional wisdom would have questioned their ability to all land in our pocket, glided right down. Holding our fire, we waited for better light to identify the drakes. Soon, the temptation got the better of us as we let loose into a locked group of mallards. The action was non-stop as the groups gracefully glided in all morning long. The problem with this situation was the birds were too close. Our average shot was around 5 yards, which poses a few problems.

The last few years I have tried all sorts of shot sizes and types, from #4s to BB, I was at a loss. After last years experience, with the knock down power at longer ranges, I decided to go with a strict diet of BB for this year...anyone see the problem? Shooting BB through an extended range choke tube made for either some very humbling misses or poof. The only shot available was under 10 yards, the cattails would swallow any duck dropped too far away. After slowly taking my limit of ducks, I picked up my camera and went to town as the other two put holes in the sky, and knocked down a few ducks as well. As the sun stopped casting shadows from the cattails our opening morning was complete with drake Mallards & Woodies.

The next day I found in a dry wheat field awaiting the arrival of our fowl friends. The wind was brisk & the fall sensation was hanging in the air. Not soon after the geese started dropping down into our spread with reckless abandon. Just like careless teens they did not see the trouble waiting as we gave them a quick surprise when the blind doors popped open. The mallards were a little more finicky, as we were relatively close to the roost. On the other hand the woodies were gung ho as they zipped around the field. The cool thing was the flocks were almost exclusively drakes, and some pretty ones at that! There have been some pretty dang good hunts in the last week, so stay tuned. From Duckville USA.....Keep Livin' the Dream!

Twas' the Night Before Opener.

2011-09-22T16:40:09Z

If you asked me how many times I have perused weather.com looking for the ideal conditions, or browsing through last year’s waterfowl photographs in search of a forgotten buzz, frankly, I would be embarrassed. The conditions this year for the Dakota’s and across much of Minnesota are at a minimum, stellar! The water is at levels not seen for years, and with water comes ducks. I took a little trip out to my stomping grounds earlier this week to wrangle up a spot for the upcoming weekend. I knew there were a mass of ducks in the area, but not to the extent I witnessed. The first spot we arrived to looked more like a scene from Helen Hunt’s “Twister” than a tiny slough nestled in the cornfields of North Dakota. This pond was no more than 60 squared yards, and the greenheads were using and abusing it.

After sitting and watching countless duck jump out and head to a winter wheat field, they slowly filtered back to a larger body of water to spend the night. This situation is a true dream for waterfowlers. I have always got a good kick out of shooting mallards in a cornfield during late October, but there is something a slough does to one, brings us back to our roots. It brings me back to one of my most memorable hunts since I have arrived in pothole country. When I arrived to NDSU it took most of the waterfowl season before I could convince my jaw to return to its normal position. The last hunt of the season didn’t help me pass the winter. It was a similar situation to my opener pond, but during October’s peak migration. It was a spot so good, it required a good friend to call off a math exam (with a terrible excuse I am sure) due to an all to well-known case of avian flu. All I remember is looking up and seeing more Mallards than I care to talk about in fear of packing up and leaving now, dumping in on our pond, and letting loose on a sea of green. They did this all night, and I could have sat and watched for the rest of my life. The conditions for this weekend are of similar fashion, and I can only hope to have a repeat experience. I hope everybody has a safe and memorable opener. From the mosquito like duck sloughs of North Dakota…..Keep Livin’ the Dream!

Sleep on it.

2011-08-23T17:53:59Z

Here I am sitting in Organic Chemistry on the first day of school, day dreaming of lounging in the field waiting for the first flock of the morning. Now if you have ever hunted with us, you know the way we hunt is a little odd. From the superstitions, to the crew, it is enough to scare any newbie into heading for the hills......even though there are none. The pictures of the last few hunt really illustrate this point. As told in the last story, we hit a jackpot during the last few minutes of scouting. Good thing we found it, because we have hunted them hard, and to tell you the truth I feel like a peeping tom. Every night following them from the dinner table all the way up to when they slink into a night time slumber. Our creepiness has paid off, with great hunts, the geese front and center.

No excuses...Just odd.Now the legality of this is really up in the air, and no I am not pulling a Jeff Foiles! I am notorious for sleeping on the ride to and from the field. Kyle recently picked up a beautiful 8.5'x20' trailer, and it holds a lot of stuff. However, my favorite addition is two mattresses, a pillow and a blanket. There is now a fight to sleep in the trailer, and pretty soon there will only be a driver in the truck. This extra sleep has allowed us to be really sharp, and has drastically improved the team's skill, and morale.

When the ramp door hits the wheat stubble, I am out the door like a cracked out black lab.

The crew was on their game, birds falling out of the sky left and right. There were all the numbers as the opening day, but about half of them were hitting a different field. It didn't stop us from raking in all the birds we wanted before deciding to pack up. It is so awesome sitting behind the camera and seeing multiple shooters taking out 3 birds and the rest doing at least 2.

The next morning we found ourselves on the X, in the pouring rain. There were thunderheads surrounding our post, looking like it would cut our hunt short. The geese didn't seem to mind the lightning, which was striking the grain bin right next to their roost on a regular basis. Slowly the birds drifted off the roost, thundering through the conditions, banking into the wind and engaging their landing gears only to meet wads full of steel. The elements were getting down right brutal, but the birds wanted to join their fallen comrades. We tried our best to reunite the geese and did a pretty dang good job of it. The field in store for Friday morning is going to be a treat! It is going to be our first attempt to break triple digits, in one hunt. From the honker haven.....Keep Livin' the Dream!

11th Hour Honkers

2011-08-19T14:01:01Z

Seeking: Individuals M or F between the ages of 3-110 to help consume copious amounts of goose jerky. Last Saturday marked the opener for North Dakota's Early Goose season and with the limit jump from 5 to 8 it was looking like it had the potential of being a simply amazing season.

This optimism is in severe contrast of how I was feeling last Friday night, mere hours away from the start of an activity in which I deem myself knowledgeable. 1,300 miles of driving, every night for too long and all I had to show for it was a small field full of 75 birds, 3 cheese burger wrappers, an empty coke, and ready to throw in the towel. Josh, and his brother Sam were with scouting Friday night, and they started to get the feeling the night would be better spent soaking up the neon light than looking for honkers. We were all very determined to find something to hunt the next morning, the problem is the ticker was showing us 7:30 pm, an hour and a half away from defeat. On a scale of one to you know what, we were sitting at a solid 8. It all came down to one stop sign, sitting and trying to decide what road interested us more. At this point, I really didn't care and neither did any of my passengers. Josh whips out a quarter, and Jo Dee Messinas lyrics "heads Carolina, tails California" popped out. After fighting a bout of laughter, due east to Carolina it was.

Another fruitless decision as it would seem, and as we were just about to call it quits, Josh picks up the binoculars and looks at a harvest wheat field in the distance. "There's a few geese in that field" as he gestured towards to what would be our saving grace. "A few geese" would be the understatement of opening day. Upon further inspection, a few geese turned out to be hundreds, and the next day we realized thousands.

The rating was quickly downgraded to 1. Packing up the trailer, everyone was buzzing with the anticipation of the first goose shoot of the season. There was no way we were going to get any good shut eye, so like tradition, we hit the road around 11pm. Technically we didn't leave the FM area until about 2, after our first wild goose chase of the season, a federal waterfowl stamp.

The decoys were set, the blinds laid, and the first flock of geese descended into our locale. Seeing the first shots of the season crush into the locked birds, was more than enough to give me chills. My companions were not rusty by any means, cleaning out 9 birds with ease. No sooner than were able to load our guns, another flock made the mistake of trusting our little fleet. This continued for exactly 27 minutes, pure pandemonium. At one point we were shooting at 3 different flocks, coming in feet down. The greatest thrill in my opinion, is to decoy birds close enough to smell their breath. And when they are landing on the footbag of your blind, their breath smells like jerky. Shocked & awed, we forced ourselves to stop and take a count. 46 birds, and like clock work two came down and wouldn't go back up. The video is spectacular, and clips will be popping up here and there. If I were to tell you this feat was repeated at least 4 more times this week, would you believe me? From the 11th hour......Keep Livin' the Dream!

2011 Waterfowl Trailer

2011-08-03T17:09:12Z

I have a fever....and the only prescription is waterfowl! With the early goose season being only ten days away, my excitement is on the rise. We have put together a little teaser for the 2012 season to help get everybody back in a fowl mindset. If you were wondering what in the world is Trophy Encounters & the Stragglers, look for the 2012 Early Goose starting line-up coming shortly.