This year the Lancaster brothers (Mancaster and Longcaster), old Sweet River, and yours truly set out for the second annual pheasant hunt at The Medicine Breaks in Presho, South Dakota. The trip was once again a success, and we managed to bring home a few more roosters this year. I snapped these instagram pics in between bowel movements and beer runs. Take a gander.
First shot, first blood. The killing fields were my field of dreams on Friday.
Back at the ranch we shot some clays and drank a few Bells Two Hearted Ales, one of my favorite midwestern brews. Real dude stuff. The boys had recently set up a professional grade clay thrower and we took it for a spin after a late afternoon run through the milo and cattails.
This is what we woke up to on Saturday morning. A little post-apocalyptic for sure, but still prime for roosters.
The South Dakota sunset. Alert the cocks, the dicks are here!
We caught this winged migration along highway 90, on our way back to the Twin Cities. There's so much wildlife in South Dakota sometimes you forget you don't see this shit everyday.
Red hot roller dogs at a two-bit truck stop somewhere outside of Mitchell, South Dakota. I could feel the kidney stones collecting in my urethra after one sniff of these chemically enhanced encased meats.
I spied this endangered beast at the SEATAC airport before departing to Minnesota. His pony was rich and luxurious. It had body. There was a nary a split end to be found. He wore it high on the back of his head to draw attention to its majestic sheen.
The Black Knight with Vulture standing atop a Volcano was my favorite of all the airbrushed semis we saw on highway 90. The driver was obviously influenced by Frank Frazetta and Molly Hatchet album covers. He also probably loved amphetamines, but that's just an educated guess.
Thanks again to Al and Garrett for the hospitality.
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