Tag: winter activity

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It Doesn’t Look Like South Dakota Out My Window

By Lee Schoenbeck

It’s just not right. January 1st is not supposed to look like October 1st, or like Kansas. Not in South Dakota, and especially not up here on the Coteau Des Prairies. Snow, lots of it, is woven into our identity. It’s what we brag about. Anybody can survive and thrive at 70 degrees, but here in the land of the 5-7 zip codes, it takes more. You have to be tougher, or at least you used to have to be.

Today pheasant season ends, with not a rooster in the whole state flushed from a snow-filled cattail slough. Today a new year begins with no sledding, no snowmobiling and no need for hot chocolate. While the sunshine is nice, it can’t be right.

Every kid in South Dakota grew up being prepared to wear long johns and overcoats under their Halloween costume. Every parent knows to be prepared to make the princess costume fit over mittens and stocking caps. By Halloween we are prepared for snow, by Thanksgiving we expect it. By New Years, we are buried in it. We never think about Santa driving a motorcycle, or a convertible with the top down. It’s just not the way our world is designed.

Last year I finally had an indoor well that provided unlimited access to enough winter water to build an ice skating rink. It looked like this in January:

Today, absent any ability to make ice for my daughter to skate on, my donut-shaped rink (built around the fire pit) looks like this:

Late season pheasant hunting with friends in South Dakota is the outdoor hunter’s ultimate experience. Wind chills get below zero. Birds hunker down in sloughs. Hunters and dogs need to climb through snow drift to get to their prey. The winter hunter’s battle gear changes to water-resistant pants, duct taped legs to keep the snow out, and Mad Bomber hats. Winter hunters look like this:

This year, an end of the season hunt photo — while still capturing a great South Dakota day — is indistinguishable from an opener photo:

Essential South Dakota pickup equipment, jumper cables and tow ropes, sit by idly drawing dust:

Winter fun with snow shoes and cross-country skis just isn’t happening in this tropical winter environment:

South Dakota’s Black Hills include Harney Peak, the highest point between the Rockies and the Alps. At 1100 feet of vertical, Terry Peak provides better skiing opportunities than about any mountain between those same two ranges. But without snow, the annual holiday ski trip to Terry Peak in the Black Hills of years past didn’t happen:


Ok — it’s a new year. It will probably be a great year. In the spirit of our sainted homesteaders, we need to adapt. We need to learn how to survive in weather designed for flip-flops and beachwear instead of 1,000 gram pack boots.


I am an optimist. I’m committed to trying. But after you get past fifty, it takes a while to adjust:


Somehow, I’ll figure out what to do in the outdoors until spring. Have a Happy New Year and a great 2012.

Lee Schoenbeck grew up in Webster, practices law in Watertown, and is a freelance writer for the South Dakota Magazine website.

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Surviving a Warm Winter

By Bernie Hunhoff

A wave of 29,000 Norwegians immigrated to America in 1882. Most ended up in the Dakotas, and we are benefitting from that infusion of common sense once again this winter.

I’m reminded every time I go to the post office or to Gramp’s coffee shop.

“Nice weather, huh?” someone will say.

“Yes but we’ll pay for it,” replies someone else of Norwegian descent.

Norwegians know that the secret to surviving winter is to not let oneself feel too happy or too sad. A really tough winter — the sort we suffered in 2009 and 2010 — tested our low ebb. Thus far in 2011, we run the risk of feeling too good.

But if you come from a country where darkness settles over the landscape for 60 days — a land where they believe that there is no bad weather, only bad clothing — you accept a 55 degree December day almost the same way you would endure a biting blizzard.

I am everything but Norwegian, but I admire the culture of humility, modesty and practicality. Thus I know that the best way to cope with these beautiful winter days is to pretend they are not occurring.

When someone at Gramp’s says,”How about this weather!” I’m going to tacitly suggest — maybe only with a nod or a roll of the eyes … maybe only with one eye — that it could be warmer. Or colder.

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Frost and Flurries

By Christian Begeman

A year or two ago I was explaining to a co-worker about how I was trying to shoot really good photos of hoar frost and she quickly stopped me mid-sentence. She told me to quit making up offensive words. Apparently”hoar frost” was a new phrase to her and the way I used it did not jive with how it sounded. Pulling up the term on Wikipedia, I quickly proved to her that the phrase was real and not a cause for concern in the workplace. In fact, I think it now makes for a good topic for my latest photo column.

So far, December in South Dakota hasn’t seen much snow, at least here in the southeastern part of the state. I’m not complaining, mind you, but if you are on a quest to find holiday and/or festive outdoor photos, it can be difficult to capture the”Christmas Spirit” without the white stuff around. Here is where hoar frost can be your friend. I know most of us don’t think frost is very photogenic, particularly as we scrape a quarter-inch-thick layer from our windshields in the morning, but trust me, frost is a beautiful thing.

I find it especially nice after (or even during) one of those early winter, thick foggy days we often get here in this part of the world. The water in the air that causes the fog begins to gather on the windward side of any protruding object and soon beautiful, wonderful hoar frost appears. Recently I discovered that in some places you don’t even need fog. I happened to be below Lake Vermillion in eastern McCook County the other morning and noticed the banks of the river below the spillway were shimmering with frost in the early morning light. The running water from the spillway was moving too fast to freeze, but its vapor formed frost along the colder banks. Since the early morning sun was out, it allows me to take my macro lens out for some super close-up shots of the frost detail.

Still don’t like frost? That’s OK. Try snow flurries. Just over a year ago, my wonderful mother was able to capture a really nice shot of grouse perched in one of the evergreens in her yard in the middle of a heavy snow flurry. Ever since I saw that, I wanted to get something similar. A couple weeks ago there were some heavy snow flurries moving across the state as I traveled and as usual, my camera was at the ready and by my side. Southeast of Ft. Pierre, I drove up on a half dozen deer who wonderfully stood their ground and watched me watch them as the snow came down. All this watching allowed me to shoot a couple frames. The result was interesting. The heavy snowfall between my lens and the hilly background makes the shot look like it could have been painted by an impressionist painter of the 19th century. Well, sort of. The point is, don’t let the lack of snow or accumulated snow stop you from wandering out and looking for wonderful early winter images.You might be surprised what you find.

Christian Begeman grew up in Isabel and now lives in Sioux Falls. When he’s not working at Midcontinent Communications he is often on the road photographing our prettiest spots around the state. Follow Begeman on his blog.

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You Have To Earn Your Pumpkin Pie Around Here

By Lee Schoenbeck

Now the perfectly good warmth of a Thanksgiving morn in front of a roaring fire with Snoopy and Bullwinkle and the rest of the Macy’s Parade ensemble is no more for many in our community, due to the Hiedeman family. As first impressions go, Steve and Patty seem like a normal couple, blessed with four beautiful and accomplished daughters, but there’s something a little unusual about the Hiedeman household. A few years ago they decided that the excesses of Thanksgiving dinner should be preceded by a family run — taking in the late November beauty that a northeastern South Dakota community has to offer. Over time, the little family run grew to an annual community event — the Hiedeman Turkey Day 5k. Until last year, the event was staged from the family garage in Northeast Watertown, plus a porta potty in the driveway. The awards ceremony took place in the two-stall garage, with the premium spots located near the space heaters. Awards are — of course — pumpkin pies. The good news — everybody that is there at the end gets hot apple cider and a piece of pumpkin pie.

But, this is no ordinary little run. In 2008 over 190 runners participated. Runners are encouraged to share their bounty, by bringing food stuffs for a local church food bank.

The field includes several NCAA Division I distance runners. The Heidemans’ daughter Caitlin married former SDSU standout quarterback, Ryan Berry, and Caitlin made her mark on the college running scene. Besides Caitlin’s friends and teammates, NDSU cross country coach Ryun Godfrey is a Watertown native, who apparently brings his team from Fargo to Watertown for the Heideman run, with the additional lure of a turkey feed at the home of Watertown running coach and father, Vic Godfrey.

In addition to the D-I caliber athletes, there are also the Very-Not-D-Anything “athletes” that heavily populate the 5k run and 2 mile walk — as well as the many family and friends there to cheer on the field. A buddy of mine dutifully trains for this event each year, always wondering if the first aid crew will be good enough to assure him survival to at least one last turkey dinner. It is ominous that the course routes the wheezing, frost-bitten participants through the local cemetery — seriously. To date, the Hiedemans’ web site reports no fatalities, and precious few egos injured in this festive community event.

Last year the infectious nature of the whole affair was tested by forecasts of deep sub-zero wind chills. Due to the growth of the event, prior to the forecast it had been relocated to the local Cornerstone Methodist Church Hall. As the weatherman predicted, the wind chill for the 2010 event was 28 degrees below zero, which made moving the start closer to the local cemetery seem even more fortuitous.

At this point, in more temperate climates, the Macy’s parade would have won out and the sane crowd would stay home. But up here on the Coteau, the rules are different. In true homesteader bloodline fashion, 107 South Dakotans (there were also a few North Dakota athletes looking for free turkey at the Godfrey house, and a guy and two gals from St. Joe, Missouri!) still competed. The crowd included housewives, children, whole families — and of course some not-exactly-D-Anything Athletes. You couldn’t help but wonder if the local mental health counseling program wasn’t a little under-promoted as these hardy souls raced in slightly clad running gear, at temperatures that cause perfectly good engines to seize up. But, the event was a frozen and smashing success.

A few years ago I started participating in this foolishness, and last year one of my college age children joined me in the race. Having cleared a half century and possessing two bad hips, I don’t train for these things. At my age, nothing good happens to your body from all that extra running, so. I focus on power-walking for the cardio endurance, and Aleve for the hips. Plus, because there is a farmer in my age group with nothing better to do all year than run down his township road like a bounding deer — I can’t win anyway.

But in the deep freeze of 2010 two special things happened. First, I beat my daughter to the finish line. Ok, I’m a realist. These are pyrrhic victories — eventually math and the calendar will change the placing in those finishes, so I take my victories while I can. But even more importantly, we’d left before the awards ceremony. Later that day a victor’s pumpkin pie was delivered to our home. Immediately realizing that the speeding farmer was surely the rightful owner of the over-50 pie, I did what any AARP-eligible athlete does when faced with the prospect of having to return a mistaken trophy — I took a bite out of it. There’s no chance they’d make me give back a pie that was missing a piece. Besides, all those calories wouldn’t affect my form, but surely would throw his lean frame off.

So now we approach 2011. The weather is forecast to be in the 40s, the kind of temps that even the folks south of the Mason-Dixon Line would run in. Having already won a pie, there’s little left to prove, almost. BOTH of my college age kids have now been training for this race. Dad’s time on top of the family running victor’s stand is probably numbered. Sure, I’ve already started my regiment of Aleve, and paced myself with a 5k warm up run last May (the hospital’s Heart Attack Hill Run is a story for another day). But the real power of writing is being able to pick when an epic ends.

Thursday is Thanksgiving. While I can’t predict the finish for tomorrow’s race (I’m just hoping they don’t have reason to leave me out in that cemetery) Today, I still feel good enough to share the Thanksgiving prayer from 1:Thessalonians:”In all things give thanks…”

Lee Schoenbeck grew up in Webster, practices law in Watertown, and is a freelance writer for the South Dakota Magazine website.