Swanson Russell

You could say hunting and fishing are in our DNA – quite literally. Our founder, Gus Swanson, was an avid outdoorsman. It’s a passion he shared with his son, Mark, who currently serves as a Production Manager in our Lincoln Office. To this day, brands in the Outdoor Recreation field remain one of our key “areas of focus” as an agency.

In this four-part Orange Dot series, Mark will share stories of hunting and fishing from his youth. We hope that, collectively, they serve as an explanation of our roots in outdoor recreation and the proud tradition we carry on as part of the Swanson name.

In the Swanson family, it was a tradition that after we turned 16, we would finally get to go on our first deer hunt. For my two older brothers, turning 16 meant a trip to the Sandhills of Nebraska where we had ranching friends. Their ranching operations encompassed hundreds of acres of rolling grass-covered hills.

When I turned 16, my dad (Gus), my oldest brother, Eric, and I decided to break tradition and head to Pine Ridge. The change in venue was dictated by my father, who needed to visit with clients in that area of the state.

Hunting the tree-covered valleys of Pine Ridge was quite a change from hunting in the open vistas of the Sandhills. This new environment forced us to change our tactics. Instead of driving through the hills and spotting deer out in the rolling hills or in the occasional plum thicket, we were hiking between the mountainous (well, they qualify as mountains in Nebraska) ridges and valleys covered by thick forests.

As Dad and I were walking up a steep incline, he spotted a buck making his way through the trees below. A second later, the buck spotted us and took off running. Dad shouldered his rifle without hesitation. He took aim and fired through a gap in the trees, all while I was still trying to find the deer through the pines. 

The buck ran another ten to fifteen yards and dropped. Dad always said when it came to quail, I was the quickest shot of us boys, but on that shot he left me empty handed. I was amazed at how fast it all happened.

With more than a little coaching and a quick lesson in field dressing, we had the deer packed and were headed back to the lodge. When we arrived, we heard a few of the other hunters had also filled their licenses that day, but I had yet to take a shot.

The next day I finally got my chance. A nice big doe was standing in an open area a little over 250 yards away – at least that’s what the lodge owners estimated. I would have put her a little farther out, which is possibly a slight embellishment. But that’s the hunter in me. Since she was standing fairly still and in no hurry to get anywhere, it gave me a little time to calm my heartbeat and breathing so instead of watching the crosshairs bounce from head to tail, I could set them on her shoulder. When I was finally ready, I squeezed the trigger. I expected her to jump and start running, but she just stood in place. I thought I’d missed her.  I worked the bolt and got ready for another shot, but before I could pull the trigger, she dropped where she stood. I had finally gotten my first deer and my dad couldn’t have been prouder.