Written by: Benjamin Korman 8:30, opening morning of the 2022 Minnesota rifle season. My brother and I were set up at the base of a...

As we discussed where we were going to head for early goose opener this year we decided to go somewhere we had never been. The...

At the beginning of the season, spirits and hopes as bowhunters are high. The woods have been active with the bucks we’ve been chasing and...

Bon Vivant River Brothers,   It was Sunday morning November 24 (second season) and about 30 degrees outside. I woke up and thought about all of the...

Howdy Guys!   It’s about that time of the year again. The daydreaming of early mornings with the crew out in the field setting spreads...

   Ice fishing has always been something I look forward to every winter but it’s always sad for many serious anglers putting the boat away...

Halloween week is said to be one of the best weeks to be 20 ft up in a tree. Why some people may ask?   ...

A large part of what we want to do at Riverbrothers is to show other outdoorsmen’s stories about how they got started in the hunting...

  Almost every day during the hunting season I found myself behind the wheel of my scouting rig,  a 2011 Honda Fit. Many of you may laugh, but when it came to the many miles put on it and the  MPG it got; I think I am the one laughing in the end. Heading out of town with a buddy, some  binocs, a plat book and a last-minute stop at the Casey’s gas station for pop, dip and a quick bite  to eat before trekking off into no-man’s land, in search of the next day’s hunting spot.    Sometimes two of us went out together and scouted, sometimes we had five separate vehicles  out; kind of just depended on how desperate we were for a spot. I think most people scout the  same way as we did. We would turn up some music, typically some sort of mix between Kesha  and Garth Brooks (depended on the day), and drive off out of town. We would go past other  feeds and roosts that had been good in recent years, while also keeping an eye out for other spots. At  times it got super frustrating, driving all over eastern South Dakota and not seeing a single bird.  The sun got lower and lower and we would frantically start driving faster. I cannot tell you how  many times, just as the sun went down and we could barely see anything, that we would find a  field that was absolutely stacked with birds. It’s like God was looking down on us and planned it  out perfectly. We would open up the plat book and figure out who owns the field, and whoever  gets the permission from the farmer, gets to invite who they want and come up with the plan  for when and how they want to hunt that spot.    I always enjoyed driving down the gravel roads, dodging deer, avoiding the ditch due to  watching fields for too long without looking back at the road (we’ve all been there, many times). ...