SIOUX FALLS, S.D. — Mark Mickelson has his dad’s first shotgun and his grandfather’s old deer rifle.

They are not uncommon heirlooms for a South Dakotan, where the hunting traditions pass to generations like the family bible.

Except that Mickelson’s forbearers — George S. and George T. — were both governors of South Dakota.

The guns are generational links to a history forged in the grasslands and cornfields of South Dakota, where the third Saturday in October is as much a cultural touchstone as Derby Day is to Kentucky.

When the clock hits 10 a.m. on Saturday, Oct. 15, the tradition will continue on 800 acres near Alpena, South Dakota, where Mickelson and a couple friends have created a pheasant hunting oasis.

The renovated farmhouse and addition has seven bedrooms and can sleep 17, where Mickelson entertains “family, business friends and friend friends.”

Growing up in Brookings, where his father practiced law, before entering political life, things were a lot simpler.

“We hunted north of Brookings,” Mickelson said during a recent interview in his Sioux Falls home. “I remember shooting my first pheasant with him and I remember shooting my first duck with him at the same slough.”

For a while, it seemed Mark would follow dad and grandad in pursuit of the governor’s office. He served in the state Legislature from 2013 to 2019, rising to speaker of the house, before stepping away from public life. Today, he’s a successful businessman, specializing in property development and finances.

It’s a career that affords the time and resources to pursue the passions that make life enjoyable.

High among those is pheasant hunting and the traditions that go with it in South Dakota.

Mickelson is prone to spare, straightforward answers to probing questions, before expanding. He’s not one for over-amplification.

“It’s fun,” he offers when asked about why the state's annual big hunt is important.

And then, after a beat he continues, when something more detailed seems appropriate.

“In a place like South Dakota, you really need to take advantage of these kinds of opportunities. It’s part of what makes living here fun.”

Which is why, in 2007, he and two friends purchased the Alpena, South Dakota, property. It’s a dependable place to escape, where they can count on the space and the birds to ensure a peaceful weekend of chasing pheasants, preparing meals and hanging out.

Mark and Cynthia Mickelson are empty nesters these days, having sent their youngest son Charlie off to college this fall.

Which perhaps lends a little extra emphasis to this year’s opener.

“The boys are getting to the point where they have all scattered to the winds,” Mark said. “Pheasant opener is not a holiday where you have to compete with the significant other’s family for time. So we have all three for the boys coming back for the pheasant opener.”

There will be another weekend for the extended family with all the cousins.

“Growing up in Sioux Falls, it was a little harder to cultivate that interest because the outdoors aren't quite as accessible as they were when I grew up in Brookings,” he said.

When they were young, the boys relished the chance to go to the farm, drink as much pop and eat as much chips “without their mothers supervision as possible,” Mickelson said.

“It’s kind of just a big excuse for male bonding.”

It’s been a place for memories and stories.

There was the time that Mickelson’s oldest son George and a friend both shot at a bird. It turned out to be an albino pheasant that’s mounted on the wall in the farmhouse.

Another time, George decided to eat breakfast instead of heading out to deer hunt. That day, dad bagged a big buck.

Being in the country, miles from home, can be a problem, however.

One day while Mark was out setting up a deer stand with his friend, Charlie and the other boys decided to take a whirl on the four-wheeler, took a corner too sharp and tipped it over.

Kids being kids, and unable to reach Mark on the cell phone, another boy called Cynthia.

“I think Charlie’s dead,” the boy on the phone said.

It’s an understatement to suggest that’s a bad phone call to get.

He wasn’t dead, though. Just a bump on the head.

“It was nothing horrible,” Charlie said. “It was over exaggerated.”

Today it’s the kind of funny memory people share over the dinner table.

“Mom, remember that time you thought I was dead?”

Underlying it all is the annual pursuit of the ring-neck pheasant, a beautiful but peculiar bird that scurries along the ground before rising to the air with a cackle and blender-like propulsion.

It all starts this weekend out by Alpena for the Mickelsons and thousands of other families, across the state.

“We truly have the best pheasant hunting around,” Mickelson said. “North Dakota has some good stuff. Nebraska has some good stuff. Iowa has some good stuff. But the best is right here in South Dakota.”