Three Generations in the Field: A South Dakota November Hunt

There are hunts you remember for the places they took you, there are hunts you remember for the animals, hunts for the life lessons learned, but some hunts hit different.  The hunts you carry with you for the rest of your life, because of the people beside you.

November of 2024 in western South Dakota was one of those hunts.

Three generations, 10 days, memories for life.

My entire family hunts (wife, both my sons and my daughter), I cherish these moments more than they know. This November hunt was twofold. A hunt with my father to fill his rifle muley tag, and a hunt for my oldest son’s first deer. My father, myself, and my two sons set out into the coulee country, chasing mule deer for my dad’s rifle tag. But this year, my oldest son had his first whitetail doe tag. This was about passing something down. Something that can’t be bought or taught in a classroom but only learned through experience and living it yourself.

Western South Dakota is where I am from, it is my home State. I don’t often get to hunt it based on being a non-resident but when the opportunity comes, I am grateful to go. The broken terrain, deep cuts, and endless glassing opportunities backed up to the West by the Black Hills is a magical experience to view. Sunrises are unmatched, weather is unpredictable, just a special place to call home and to hunt.

But more than that, it’s the kind of place where generations connect.

Hunting with my father, while watching my sons experience it all for themselves, was a reminder of how deep these roots run. Lessons learned years ago were now being passed down, I grew up hunting this same country with my father when I was young.

Opportunity came quick on the rifle opener, my dad spotted a good mule deer buck tucked into a coulee with a hot doe, he was distracted fending off a younger buck who wanted in the action. We took advantage to get close, where we could all be in position in case my dad decided to take him. As my dad contemplated the situation, he looked around at his grandchildren and felt it was right, this was the experience he wanted. He took the buck and we all got to witness.

When it all came together, my father made good on that opportunity and harvested a beautiful mule deer buck. We broke him down together and packed out all his meat, cape and head as a team.

And just like that, our muley hunt was over, a tag my father waited many years for was done all on opening day, but we were not finished.

A First Deer, A Lifetime Memory

If that moment was about legacy behind us, the next was about everything ahead.

We pursued white tail does for some days making plays and stalks trying to get close enough for a quality shot and experience for my oldest son. It took some time but when it came together, he executed the shot perfectly, it was pretty awesome to witness. There’s nothing quite like that moment as a parent. Watching it all click. Seeing the excitement, the focus, and the respect for the animal. It’s not just about the shot, it’s about understanding what it means to take a life, and harvest your own food. That first deer is something he’ll carry forever and being there to witness it is something I will too. 

The real value was in the time spent together. Time with my father, my sons and my home State.  Many hunting stories shared from my father to my boys, lessons passed down, time well spent.  In a world where we do not live close to each other anymore, hunting has a way of bringing us back together. It connects generations. It builds respect for wildlife, for the land, and for each other.

This hunt in South Dakota was a reminder of why we fight to protect it.