By: Neil Johnson

My Dad is dying. In truth we all are. I’m not trying to be morbid, it’s simply a fact we must all deal with. It could happen at any time, yet some of us are given the gift of knowing that it will visit us soon. My Dad has been given this “gift” although some people wouldn’t call it that.

This past December Dad was diagnosed with lung cancer. Initially it was thought that the cancer was discovered early enough to treat with an upper lobectomy, which involved removing the upper third of the lung. As unpleasant as that sounds it would’ve removed the cancer and eliminated the problem. Filled with hope my Dad and I went down to Mayo where he was run through a battery of tests. The results were not positive. Surgery was not an option. He was in stage four and we were told that ninety-five percent of the people were dead within five years. On the ride home from Rochester Dad and I talked about a number of things, but one of the things we talked about was the “gift.”You see, there were to many times where both Dad and I allowed things to get in the way of spending time together or saying things that needed to be said, but now we knew we didn’t have that much time left. The conversations became more open and we were dedicated to making sure my kids knew their Grandpa more.

This spring we set up a fishing trip to Elbow Lake. We stayed at Elbow Lake Lodge, which provided the perfect atmosphere for what would turn out to most likely be our last fishing trip together. The general manager of the resort, Lee Byram, is also a pastor so he had an interest in making sure our stay was enjoyable and care free. The fishing was slow that weekend but the important thing was spending time with my Dad, my brother, my nephew, and my two oldest boys. My Dad loves his grandchildren and on the first night we gathered around him as he told us a story and presented us with some special gifts (lures that he knew to be the best). The next day while attempting to fish we must have looked like something out of the Keystone Cops. My brother doesn’t fish, my dad had injured his foot, and the kids are young (7,6, and 6). At one point one line was stuck in a tree, one lure was snagged on the carpet, another line was snagged on a rock, and two lines were tangled up together. It seemed to be all we could do to keep lines untangled and in the water. But we were together. I watched as my Dad struggled along, yet loved on his grandkids.

This past week I was at Elbow Lake Lodge again. I was with my wife, our five kids and a special friend of our family. This time the fishing was fantastic. We caught walleye, northern, bass, panfish, and perch. Then we got a phone call regarding my Dad, and one more gift. Dad was in the hospital and was told that because of his pain he would no longer be able to live at home by himself. We cut our vacation a little short and went to Bemidji to pick him up.

It was during our car ride home that I was given the best gift of all. Just Dad and I were in the car. We talked about the past and we talked about the future. He told me he had finally made peace with God and had asked to be forgiven of his sins. For me that was the best gift, something I had been praying about for quite some time. But then again, my Dad had been given the “gift” of knowing his time on Earth was short, and he was able to put his affairs in order. Some of us will never get that gift.

Today as I helped my dad get out of bed, go to the bathroom, and get a little bit of food I was reminded just how fragile life is. I wish I would’ve spent even more time with my Dad. Still, I am grateful for the special times we did have, most of which occurred while at the lake, whether it was our personal property or a place like Elbow Lake Lodge. The key is to have an environment free of distractions. The lake is the perfect place.

Larry William Johnson passed away on Monday July, 6th at my home in Oak Grove, MN. He kept a positive attitude and fought to the end but eventually the cancer won. He was as graceful in his passing as he had proven to be in life. We worked hard to manage his pain and keep him comfortable till the Hospice Nurse arrived (thank God for them). We didn’t do everything right and I know he was in incredible pain, but he never got upset or angry.

Pictured from left to right - Steve and Damien, Nathan, Grandpa Larry, Isaiah and NeilJust the other day I was talking to my oldest son, Isaiah, about the pain Grandpa Larry was experiencing at the end. Isaiah looked at me with a big smile and said, “But he’s not in any pain anymore! In fact he’s probably already caught the new world record fish!!”

Although I can see the gifts God provided at the end, I still wasn’t ready to loose my Dad. The best and most fitting comments I heard were from a business contact who said, “Neil it’s a big hole.”

May God Bless you and your family in your Lakeshore dreams!

Neil Johnson is an avid fisherman, outdoor enthusiast and currently works with www.LakeShoreDreams.com 

Thank you so much for letting me share this very special day with you and all who enjoy the outdoors.

Sincerely,
Daniel A. Hamilton

Wow, what a weekend.

On Thunder Lake, surface water temps have crept up into the mid-50’s with the beautiful warm weather we had this weekend. As a result, the fishing is really starting to pick up. Crappies, largemouth and smallmouth bass have been starting to become more active on Thunder Lake, while the pike bite on Big Rice remains strong as well. Our guests have had quite the weekend of fishing.

Crappies are being caught in shallow water on slip bobbers with minnows and leeched. It is purely a protective bite right now as they are trying to protect their nests and beds from predators. They are not actively looking to feed.

Smallmouth and largemouth bass are being caught on crankbaits and also on live bait bobber setups. Today was truly an incredible day for smallmouths. We had a few big smallies that were caught today.

On Big Rice Lake, Northern Pike are still being caught on cane poles and daredevils. An occasional walleye is also being caught there as well as some perch.

On Thunder Lake, Scott from Cottage #3, who was a first time guest with us, caught a 20 inch smallmouth. Believe it or not, it was Scott’s 1st ever smallmouth caught! Good luck trying to top that. Not to be outdone, Nathan from Cottage #10 landed a beautiful 20 3/4″ smallmouth that was his biggest ever also! These are two trophy smallies caught on the same day on the same lake at the same resort. Chip from The McCleary Cabin also reeled in a big female smallmouth as well. Both Nathan and Chip released theirs, while Scott is having his mounted. Chris from Cottage #8 also landed a very nice Thunder Lake walleye.

This might sound like I’m making this up so you will either just have to take my word for it, or ask my guests themselves, but believe it or not, Jerry caught his two biggest walleyes ever on back-to-back days on Rice Lake. The 1st walleye measured at 22.5″ and the 2nd measured at 24.5″. Vern & Donovan also caught some nice pike on Rice Lake as well. Donovan had a bonus JUMBO perch on the stringer to show too.

Click Here to see the photos from the weekend.

By: Matt Rammer

Karlee Winkelman, photo courtesy of The Gazette

Karlee Winkelman, the 12-year-old daughter of outdoor television personality Babe Winkelman, completes a long-distance retrieve of a pheasant Saturday during the Aiming for A Cure benefit at Highland Hideaway Hunting near Riverside. The pheasant crashed to earth several hundred yards beyond the group of hunters and dogs with whom Babe Winkelman was hunting. When it appeared that the dead rooster would be overlooked, Karlee jogged a quarter mile to the exact spot where the bird lay in dense brush and jogged back with it.

RIVERSIDE — A smiling birddog-loving boy who succumbed to cancer three years ago continues to inspire an astonishingly successful hunting-related benefit.

Following last weekend's annual pheasant hunt and banquet, the Aiming for a Cure Foundation will present a check for $200,000 to support the Children's Hospital of Iowa, the University of Iowa institution that cared for Ben Ries during the illness that claimed his life at age 12 in 2006.

"I'm just humbled by the support for this cause," said Steve Ries, Ben's dad and the founder and coordinator of the annual event that brings together pheasant hunters, sports and outdoor personalities and children's health advocates for a weekend of fun and fundraising.

"It will always be a legacy of Ben, but it is expanding and fulfilling our hopes that it would put a much-needed spotlight on sick children and the help they need," said Ries of rural Alburnett.

Outdoor personality Ron Schara, a first-time participant last weekend, said he was impressed with "the caring spirit and camaraderie that pervaded the event."

Schara, a Postville native, said he was also impressed with Ries' ability to function in a situation that brings his emotions so close to the surface.

Schara — who filmed part of the event for a segment on an upcoming "Pheasants Forever" television program, one of eight shows produced by his Minneapolis-based Ron Schara Productions — said he toured the Children's Hospital during the weekend.

"If you're feeling bad about the economy or that your corn won't grow, a trip through there will put your problems in perspective," Schara said.

Steve and Jodie Ries, facing the prospect that their son would likely die of cancer, started the effort six years ago as a way to give something to Ben's caregivers.

Ries, who raises and trains German short-haired pointers, organized the event around an activity he and Ben greatly enjoyed — pheasant hunting — and each year about 80 hunters pay to participate in guided pheasant hunts and sporting clay shoots at Highland Hideaway Hunting near Riverside.

Each group of four hunters is teamed with a celebrity such as outdoor television personalities Schara and Babe Winkelman.

During Saturday's hunt, Winkelman's 12-year-old daughter Karlee, along as a spectator, impressed other hunters with her long-distance retrieve of a rooster that crashed to earth several hundred yards beyond her dad's hunting party. Convinced she knew where the dead bird lay and concerned it might be overlooked, she jogged a quarter mile through tall switch grass into a dense thicket, where she picked up the bird and jogged back with it.

Donated raffle items, such as works of art and guided hunting trips, account for much of the event's proceeds, as do donations from corporate partners such as the Bob Dostal Memorial Golf Outing, Highland Hideaway Hunting, Hunter's Specialties, Kent Feed Native Dog Food, Mossy Oak Brand Camo, Overhead Door of Cedar Rapids and Iowa City, Proliant Health & Biologicals, Van Meter Industrial, BG Products/Specialized Petroleum Services, MVP Visual Media Solutions, Mid-American Glazing Systems and Wal-Mart Stores.

Learn more about Ben Ries

In fact, he wasn't even thinking about slapping the trigger and putting some cold steel down range—the winged shock and awe above had pickled his brain.

Photo Courtesy of Delta Waterfowl"I was mesmerized, stunned, frozen," said the 41-year-old Delta Waterfowl member from New Prague, Minnesota, recalling his first spring hunt for snows and blues in early 2000. "You see the photographs of those storm clouds of geese, but you can't comprehend what it's like until you see them in person. It's almost indescribable. The numbers. The deafening sound. Their wild flight patterns. It's amazing."
For the record, Doheny has sobered up from his snow goose-induced stupor and has been a regular participant in the spring season, killing enough light geese to test his rapidly expanding gastronomic skills. "The birds are still staging well short of South Dakota right now, but I have the itch," he says. "It's been a long, cold, snowy winter, and I can't wait for the birds to arrive."

Doheny isn't a preacher, but he has become something of an evangelist for snow geese, which he proudly calls "food for the soul." More importantly, Doheny says, he wants to shovel dirt on the "tired" myth that snow geese are the culinary equivalent of winged liver—or, as he says, "inedible for human consumption."

"Before I went on my first spring hunt, I heard the same propaganda over and over: Snow geese taste like winged liver, snow geese taste like winged liver," said Doheny, an avid waterfowler and wild game foodie. "I guess that wasn't a term of endearment, but the truth is I love liver, so I was intrigued about the possibility of harvesting enough snow geese to really test them out in the kitchen."

And test them he has, although calling Doheny merely a taste-tester wouldn't be completely accurate. He's more like a mad scientist—in how he cleans his snow geese, and how he prepares them. He's meticulous about everything (his wife says he's anal) and utilizes nearly every part of the goose. Bottom line: no cooking technique is off the table, no time too much to perfect his craft and the birds' taste.

Doheny, who someday would like to open his own butcher shop specializing in waterfowl and other wild game, says he occasionally takes wild-game cookery a little far. "Well, there was the time when I asked my wife if I could turn my side of the garage into a smoke house. She gave me The Look, and every married man knows The Look. I dropped the idea before she hired a divorce lawyer."

There is perhaps no better time for hunters to fill their freezers with snow geese and hone their waterfowl cooking skills. For example, the mid-continent population of light geese, which migrates throughout the Mississippi and Central Flyways, has climbed from its historic average of 1.5 million birds to an estimated 5 to 15 million today. Snow geese are so overpopulated they are destroying their fragile arctic breeding grounds, as well as their increasingly fragile wintering habitat.

In an effort to trim the expanding population, a spring "conservation order" was established by the U.S Fish and Wildlife Service in 1999. For Doheny, the special season allows him to test his waterfowling skills against a notoriously wary bird while thinking up new and creative ways to prepare the birds. He relishes the challenge, and also takes pride in his role as hunter-conservationist.

"The idea behind the spring season is to bring some balance back to the snow goose population and reduce the destruction of the birds' habitat, which I believe is very, very important," Doheny said. "I also believe in the ethic that hunters must utilize their quarry. I teach my boys that when they kill something, whether it's a duck or a deer, they're going to prepare it and eat it. I tell them, ‘We eat what we kill, or we don't hunt at all.'"

Added Doheny: "I have absolutely no tolerance for wanton waste."

After his first spring snow goose hunt, Doheny decided to make a dish that would help tenderize the meat. What he came up with was his founding classic, Scottie's Snow Goose and Wild Rice Stoup. "Stoup falls somewhere between the consistency of a soup and a stew but utilizes basically the same ingredients," Doheny says. "I often make it for family Christmas parties or wild game dinners, and it goes so fast that I rarely get a chance to eat it myself."

Here's the recipe:

"What I've learned is that snow geese are as good or better to eat than any waterfowl and that you can prepare them in multiple ways: braising, grilling, smoking, you name it," he said. "This year if I get enough snow geese, I'm going to experiment making brats and sausage, perhaps even jerky. I know a lot of guys who have their birds processed, and that's good, but it can be a little too expensive. Besides, I want to do it myself."

Doheny also said he's going to utilize the birds' hearts and livers—the so-called nasty bits—and may even try to make snow goose pate. "Like I said, I love liver," he quipped.

"The thing I like best about wild game cooking is that you get to relive the memories of the hunt," Doheny added. "I'm a waterfowl hunter. I love it. And I love to hunt snow geese. And I can't think of a better way of bringing the hunt full circle than sharing a wild game meal with my family. It's a powerful thing."

For additional snow goose recipes

My wife was joined by my son, and then by me, as we tried to call the dog. We were given entrance to the bottomland property by the owner, and walked many miles calling for her to no avail. When we gave up for the night, at 1am, a steady rain had turned to freezing rain, and then to snow. When we got up Sunday morning, the temperature had dropped below zero (F), along with a strong north wind. Our hopes for Sassy were fading fast. We had called the Sheriff and humane society on Saturday, and called them again Sunday but they had no news for us.

Sunday night was again sub-zero. The area where Sassy disappeared was full of wildlife, including coyotes, owls and other predators. My fear was she was either frozen, or eaten, by that time. No calls all day or night Sunday, and our hopes were disappearing with each hour.

On Monday afternoon I got a call from my wife, who could barely speak. Sassy had been found, and was alive. She was told to come to Lock and Dam #3 on the Mississippi to claim the dog. When she arrived, the crew at the dam showed her a video tape from the security system. In the tape, Sassy is seen walking on the river ice just above the dam. Suddenly, the ice breaks, and she is plunged into the swift and cold water. She tried to swim upstream, but was swept into the water intake of the dam. A minute later, she popped up to the surface of the water below the dam. A boat with two walleye fisherman (diehards, as the temp was only about 5 above at that time), was there. They spotted Sassy, and motored over to where she was swimming. They scooped her into a landing net, and then brought her to the dam operators who were able to warm and dry her. She was very happy to see Peggy, as you might think. Peggy was even happier. A trip to the vet confirmed that Sassy was indeed healthy.

This little house dog, who scratches at the door to be let back in the house in a few seconds if it's cold, somehow survived an ice storm, two subzero nights, in an area full of predators, only to fall into the icy Mississippi and be swept into the dam. We thank God for the two walleye fisherman and the dam employees, who were responsible for rescuing her. And for Sassy's incredible toughness and will to live.

We are hoping to get a copy of the surveillance tape from the Corps of Engineers at the Red Wing dam to share. By the way. our granddaughter Marley Marie Maxson, was born on Jan. 2, weighing 8lbs. 8 oz. Now we are doubly blessed.

Mike

About a month after my dads passing, I received an email from Derek Rambo, the Avery Youth Field Staff Chairman, explaining an amazing offer from Fred Slyfield of Ellensburg, Washington. His son Spencer, also on the AYFS, told his dad about what happened and Fred started planning something out. He got in touch with Derek, and they got the ball rolling on the whole deal. Fred was giving me a 3 day duck hunt out in Washington State, all expenses paid. He said he would cover everything but the airfare. Derek along with Mark Brendemuehl, another Avery and Zink calls Pro-Staffer contacted many other Avery and Zink Calls Pro-Staffers and started asking for donations. The Pro-Staffers came through and donated enough to cover my plane ticket, along with a little extra spending money for me to bring along.

After months of planning, we got everything sorted out and decided on dates of which Derek and I would be making the big trip out to Washington. We chose December 17^th through the 21^st. The plan was to fly into the Seattle airport and drive up to the Puget Sound, about 2 miles from Canada to hunt Sea Ducks on the ocean, and then head down to where Fred guides and hunt divers for the last day. That was the plan until 5 days prior to the trip. Fred called informing me that they were receiving the storm of the decade and we wouldn’t be able to make it on the sea. That was a bummer to hear, as I have never hunted sea ducks before and this was a chance of a lifetime. He ensured us that we were looking good for shooting a decent amount of ducks on the river, so that was a little pick me up. We knew that it would be a great time regardless if we shot a bird or not.

My plane arrived at SEATAC Airport at about 4:00 P.M. on Wednesday where Fred and Derek picked me up to make the 3 hour drive to Ellensburg. It was a hairy drive going over the mountain pass, as they were receiving a significant amount of snowfall and the roads were very slick. With the anticipation building, Fred threw a video into the VCR. It was from 2 years ago where he guided the guys from Ducks Unlimited TV. Little did we know that we would be sitting in the exact same spot as the DU guys did for 2 days in a row to put the hammer down on some ducks!

Day one started with an hour drive to the boat landing plus a 2 mile boat ride on the Columbia River. Derek and I couldn’t believe what we saw as the sun was starting to show itself as we were running down the river. The scenery was breathtaking. Then we noticed all of the birds we flushed of the river. That got our hearts racing knowing that it was going to be an awesome first day on the river. We got setup and the birds started appearing. Our decoy spread consisted of 2 Gang Rig strings of Redheads, Canvasbacks, and a few Bluebills, along with single rigged Wigeon to break up the lines and set on the outsides of the divers. Wigeon started appearing in singles, pairs, and small flocks. It was a great Gentlemen’s hunt where we all took turns killing the drakes. We had hen Wigeon all over the decoys while we were waiting for the drakes to appear. We were shooting mainly Wigeon along with a few gorgeous Redheads and a nice greenhead. We ended day one with 19 ducks, 2 shy of our 3 man limit. The limit could have easily been reached if we shot hens or stuck it out for a few more minutes. What a great way to start of the trip!

Day two started out the same as day one. It was a couple mile boat ride to the “Special Spot”, where Fred was telling us about past hunts in this spot where they had phenomenal hunting. As we arrived in the little cove in the river Fred told us that we wouldn’t be able to hunt there for very long. Not sure why, Derek and I asked what the reason was. Answer: The Columbia River has many locks and dams which make the water levels vary. Fred guessed that we would have a good half hour of hunting before the water got too shallow for the boat and we would have to move. Well, the half hour turned into about ten minutes and the boat was now stuck on shore! The water kept getting lower and we were now over ten yards onto shore with the heavy boat. We knew that it was not a good problem to have because there was a chance that the river wouldn’t come back up until after sundown. Luckily the other half of our group was just down the river in their big 20’ boat and they came to the rescue. When they pulled up they were telling us about the unreal amount of birds they had in the decoys when we called for some help. We arrived to the spot where the other guys were hunting to hopefully shoot a few birds. Well, we weren’t disappointed. We were literally covered in ducks! Wigeon, mallards, redheads, and bluebills kept dive bombing the spread. We took turns again shooting drakes and we finished our 5 man limit of 35 birds in short order. Our limit consisted of mainly greenheads with wigeon, redheads and bills finishing it up. The best part of the deal was that the water had come up enough to get the boat unstuck of the mud! In no time we were on our way back to the trucks to load up and grab a well earned meal. That night we got all of our birds cleaned, went out to eat, and relaxed a little bit for once. As we sat on the couch we reminisced about the days hunt and talked about what an awesome trip we were having.

Day three started a little bit earlier than the prior days, and also quite a bit colder. We arrived at the boat ramp well before sunrise and the thermometer said -2! Not only was the air cold, but the wind was also blowing strong. We setup in the same spot as the day before, knowing that killing birds wouldn’t be a problem with the amount we saw the past few days. Well, the wind and cold moved birds out of the area and we were only seeing about 1/5 of the birds that were around previously. We stuck it out until about 10:00 A.M. and then called it a day with 20 birds in the bag. Everything was freezing up and the birds weren’t around, so we decided to go back and warm up.

The plan was to relax Saturday night and head to the airport on Sunday morning, but with the 10” of snow and 65 MPH winds forecasted, we decided that it would be a good idea to get back across the mountains and find a hotel in Seattle. Well, turns out that was a good plan. About a half hour after we got into Seattle the State D.O.T. closed the mountain pass, so if we waited a little bit yet, I would have been spending Christmas in Washington! The airport was very crazy as people were heading home for the holidays. The weather was bad, and the airport was not ready for this amount of snowfall. Flight after flight after flight was being cancelled, and I was starting to get worried. Derek’s flight back to his home of Dallas was cancelled, but mine was still going to make it out. After many long hours of waiting around at the airport, my flight finally took off for MSP airport. I arrived 6 hours late, but safe and sound at about 3:00 in morning.

It was a bittersweet deal for me to go on this trip, as the real reason I was there was getting to me. It was the best trip of my life, but I will never forget how the whole trip came about. If anyone ever gets a wild hair and wants to hunt a big river with a spectacular backdrop, give Fred Slyfield of Caribou Creek Outfitters a shout. He will take you on a hunt you will never forget! www.cariboucreekoutfitters.com

I would like to send a big thank you out to Fred Slyfield for doing everything he did to get me out to Ellensburg to hunt, and also Derek Rambo for getting me hooked up with Fred and getting the donations for the hunt. Thanks guys and keep on Livin’ The Dream!

After about 20 minutes I asked him if he wanted to go see his deer. As we climbed down I told him to reload and go find his deer and make sure it was dead. He looked at me with kind of a fearful look. I said it’s your deer, you go check it out. As he walked over, he cautiously walked in and tapped it with his barrel. Then he turned to me and put his hands up like a ref signaling a touchdown. What a precious moment.

I give each of the boys one free pass on gutting deer. Mitchell shot his first last year and Zach his first this year. I gutted both. I can’t wait until next year to watch them embark on that adventure. That too will be priceless.

As you and I know, these outdoor adventures with the kids create incredible memories. Both boys shot their first grouse this year and now Zach with this nice doe. It was a great season. We all toasted Zach with root beer! He was the camp hero for a day.

I thought you might enjoy this as much as I did.

Troy