Last week I related my futile adventure with a ridiculously large fish on ridiculously light tackle. Fishing a river bottom, whether it is the James, Missouri, or Wisconsin River, with a gob of night crawler on light tackle was foolhardy on my part. Carp, buffalo, and catfish can easily exceed fifty pounds in weight. Sturgeon can exceed a hundred pounds, and the freshwater drum whose action we were enjoying can go thirty pounds or more.

It wasn’t that I don’t have the tackle. Two musky baitcasting rigs, one with thirtypound test line and the other with fifty-pound test sat in my garage at the time. I will certainly know better next time although I immensely enjoy playing big fish on light tackle. I wouldn’t trade last week’s sturgeon encounter for anything.

Thirty-three years ago I unintentionally left my East River Deer tag behind when I hurriedly went out the back door. To make a long story short, conservation officer Mary Clausen arrested me with my untagged deer, I was embarrassed, and I vowed in my weekly column to never again break a game & fish law.

There have been times when my vow might have been tested. Host ranchers have told me that if I chance upon a wolf or mountain lion, I am to practice the three S’s – Shoot, Shovel, & Shut-up. Fortunately I have never been tested. I have received similar instructions while turkey hunting in the deep draws and canyons of Gregory County. “Wiltz, when you come upon a beaver, kill it.”

In creeks across the state, the waters of spring run-off are frequently dammed by beavers. Cornfield bottom lands are flooded, and farmers loose valuable acreage. Beavers also kill desirable trees. While visiting with an old farmer friend a few weeks back, he told me of his beaver problem during the spring and summer of 2019. It had become necessary to kill over forty beavers. For some of this culling work, night vision scopes were employed. Just what do our laws say about beaver control? I have quoted, word for word, the trapping section of our SD Hunting Handbook.

Furbearer License – The furbearer license is required to trap coyote, red fox, grey fox, jackrabbit, raccoon, badger, bobcat, opossum, mink, weasel, beaver, muskrat, and skunk; and when and where allowed is required to hunt bobcat, opossum, mink, weasel, beaver, and muskrat. However, a furbearer license is not required for residents to trap raccoon, skunk, badger, opossum, jackrabbit, red fox, grey fox, and coyote from April 1 – August 31. No license is required for resident youth under age 16.

I interpret this to mean that at a minimum, a Furbearer License is required. Legalities aside, my first reaction to my farmer friend’s beaver problem was waste. Surely beaver pelts have some value. According to the television program “Mountain Men,” a beaver hat is worth $400, and that a hat can be made from a single pelt. In researching today’s value of a beaver pelt, I’ve learned that because of the virus, the market is depressed. In talking to fur buyers, a beaver pelt is worth about eight dollars. Apparently this isn’t enough to make beaver trapping profitable.

Beaver meat is considered a delicacy similar to pork and is supposedly quite popular in Canada. Recipes abound on the internet though I have never sampled it and doubt that I ever will. Some specialty restaurants even feature beaver. A beaver skull with its formidable teeth is impressive and is something no high school biology room/lab should be without.

While on the subject of beavers, I have twice been afflicted with giardia, a parasite I picked up from water contaminated by beavers. My first encounter came from a Colorado mountain stream. The second episode came from the waters of Picktown’s North Point beach where I had been swimming. While bank fishing the North Point area that summer, I frequently observed passing beavers. I knew they were there.

Giardia is a hideous affliction. The symptoms I observed were uncontrollable diarrhea accompanied by the belching of gas that made sewer gas smell like Eau de Cologne. When I called and described the ailment to my family doctor, Richard Honke, he laughed heartily before calling in a prescription that took care of it right now. I failed to see the humor.

My column of two weeks ago recommended dove hunting. I figured I’d wait until after Labor Day and I missed it. With the cold front, the doves went south. So much for that idea. One doesn’t hesitate when it comes to doves. See you next week.