Ringnecks and Roosters

South Dakota has a way of reminding you that you’re a mere guest in a land built on big skies, bigger winds, endless rows of cut or tall-standing corn, and birds that seem to run a sub-4 forty.  As we left Sioux Falls and proceeded down the seemingly endless roads to our accommodation for the week, the view turned to that perfect late-season copper — the kind of color that makes every bird hunter feel like they’ve stepped straight into a painting.

Our first day started with tugging on layers like we were suiting up for a high-stakes scrimmage, and set out into the fields with our eager GSP, Mac, pacing around like a coiled spring. It didn’t take long for us to remember one universal truth: pheasants don’t care about your plans, your ego, or the fact that you woke up at 4:30 AM hoping to be a hero. They will make you work.

South Dakota fields turn dogs into poets. Every sweep of the grass, every frozen tail, every slow, deliberate step — it’s sporting art in real time. Watching the dogs work is a reminder that success is earned in the details.

The first push of the day was a classic: grass thicker than a lineman's neck, roosters cackling just out of range, and that chilled Dakota wind delivering a reminder that we are just a visitor here. Thankfully, we had the right kit — because when you’re grinding through dense grasses and fencerows, the gear either stands up or sits you down.

Why We Go

Trips like this remind us why we build what we build. The field isn’t theoretical. It’s briars, wind, cold, sweat, dogs, friends, and the occasional rooster that launches from under your boot when you least expect it.

We test our products in places like South Dakota because hunting is part craft, part chaos, and always worth doing right. The uplands demand respect — and reward preparedness.

Built for the Field — Literally

Our Baeron Waxed Briar Chaps were the MVP. They took every thorn, burr, and sharp-tempered stem with the kind of indifference usually reserved for grizzled guides who’ve seen “too many seasons to count.” Not a snag, not a tear — just that beautiful patina forming with each step.

Up top, the Midszn Vest handled the temperature swings like a seasoned Dakotan. One minute we were hiking hard and peeling layers, the next we were standing still while the dogs locked up on a point, letting the wind cut through us. The vest kept the core warm, never bulky, always ready for the next pivot.

And when the afternoon clouds rolled in and the chill settled over the prairie? That was Cashiers Pullover time. Soft, warm, and built for the field without screaming “I’m technical!” — more like a quiet nod from a friend who knows how to keep you comfortable.

Until the next trip, we’ll be back home in North Carolina refining the gear, swapping stories, and counting the weeks until the next run at the prairie.

Built for the field. Refined for the rest.
And always ready for the next rooster that thinks he can outrun us.