Prior to fall 2023, Sam Soholt had already made a name for himself as one of the most respected, authentic, and entrepreneurial conservationists in the hunting space. He was the guy who converted an old school bus into a mobile hunting camp/billboard for protecting public lands. Along with his older brother, Josh, he co-founded Public Land Tees, which donates $5 from every item sold to protect and improve access to public lands. And he’s the guy who, in 2019, started Stamp It Forward, a program designed to spread awareness (and raise money) for the federal duck stamp. Together, these initiatives have raised more than $350,000 for conservation.
Last fall, however, Soholt decided to push his efforts even farther—literally and figuratively.
“I came up with an idea to put a twist on Stamp It Forward,” Soholt said. “Instead of just saying, ‘Hey, donations are open. Go hop over to the website and donate,’ I decided to put on a backpack and walk through the prairie pothole region as a way to earn people’s money.”
Over the course of three days, Soholt walked 100 miles—and raised more than $50,000 in the first-ever Duck Ruck. He was prepared to repeat the trek this fall…until he tore his Achilles in June. So, the 2024 Duck Ruck will be more of a team effort.
“What makes duck hunting different from a lot of other pursuits is just how communal it is,” Soholt said. “You’re sitting in a blind together, you’re in a boat together, you’re in a field together, whatever it might be. The camaraderie of duck hunting is different than most other things. So, when it comes to the Duck Ruck, I shouldn’t have been surprised at how willing people are to throw on a pack and get after it. It’s been really cool to see the support.”
We recently caught up with Soholt to chat about hunting, conservation, and the newest adventure in his life—parenthood.
My dad got my brother and me into hunting when we were super young. I was 6 or 7 years old when I first started walking the cornfields for pheasants—and I got burned out pretty quickly with the pheasant hunting, because I really didn’t like all of that walking. But when I was 10 or 11, I was invited on my first duck hunt—and even though I couldn’t shoot a gun till I was 12, I fell in love with it. That’s when I knew hunting was going to be a part of my life forever.
My parents made a deal with my brother and me when we were kids. It was basically: Don’t drink till you’re 21, and you can pick out any shotgun you want. My older brother didn’t drink, and he got a Beretta AL391 Teknys. I also made it to 21 without drinking, but I told my dad I wanted a professional video camera. He thought I was insane for wanting that over a shotgun—but ever since I was young, I loved the idea of filming hunts. That’s why I chose the camera.
My whole life I’ve tended to focus on the scenes going on around me and unfolding in front of me—especially in the woods, on the water, and on the marshes. Like, if you have a group of ducks come into the decoys, that’s great every time. But, there are some times when everything sets up perfect. Maybe you’ve got a black curtain of clouds in front of you, then the sun pops out behind you as the ducks come in, lighting up the marsh in gold, creating this amazing contrast. Those are the kind of moments that I’m always searching for—whether I have a camera or not—because it’s those little nuances that can be the difference between just having a really good day and when you form a lifelong memory.
Yeah, there were times when my parents’ no-drinking rule was really annoying—especially when I was in high school. But by the time I was a freshman in college, it was the greatest thing ever. I got invited everywhere because people knew I’d drive, and I’d always get a free Perkins breakfast at 3 a.m. for driving everyone home.
Sometimes I don’t even hit the shutter button on the camera. Just being able to soak in everything around me and mentally catalog that moment in my brain for future references is enough to capture the experience forever.
I grew up hunting quite a bit on public lands, but I’ll admit to being a late-bloomer on knowing what makes them so special. When I was a kid, public land was just something that was there. It wasn’t until I moved out West when I was like, Oh, wow, I’ve got a hundred-thousand acres that I can go explore. But even then, it wasn’t until the risk of losing public lands hit me and made me realize how important these places are and that they need to be protected.
I'm a big mallard guy.
My brother and I went on a moose hunt years ago. We were unsuccessful, but had a great time, and I am just jonesing to get back to Alaska and find a big moose. That's definitely my dream hunt.
My answer to choosing either big game or waterfowl hunting? Yes.
The idea for the school bus had been floating around for a long time. I thought maybe it could serve as a mobile bow shop, or a vehicle we could throw some bean bags in and go on a turkey tour. It got to the point where every time I’d see a bus, I’d think to myself, What could I turn that into? Finally, on New Year’s Eve 2016, I bought a bus. I parked it behind my brother’s shop for a couple of months, and he helped me rip the seats out. Then I drove it back to South Dakota and spent the whole summer of 2017 hammering on the interior to get it ready for fall.
I had hopes that the bus would turn into something big, but I’m still amazed by how well it was received and how many people got behind the idea of a portable billboard for protecting public lands. I think the biggest reason it took off is because everyone can relate to a school bus in one way or another. It’s just kind of a throwback.
My favorite thing about the bus is using it for our family deer camps. It can get cold—down into the teens at night. I’ll rise an hour before we all need to get up for the hunt and turn on the propane heater in the bus and fire up the woodstove in the tent that attaches to the bus, then I’ll go back to bed. Then, an hour later when we all get up, the place is warm and toasty-toasty while you get dressed and have some coffee. Man, that’s just the best.
My favorite duck gun I’ve ever owned was a Browning BPS bottom-eject, because I’m left-handed, and so I didn't have to worry about the shell coming out in front of my face.
Don’t be afraid of messing up. This is true in all hunting, but in especially in big-game hunting. If you’re too tentative—if you’re not willing to go into areas and bump things around and blow stuff out of there—you’re never going to learn where stuff might be.
I like hunting with people who take it seriously enough to want to be successful, but not so seriously that it's not fun.
My mom has been in politics forever. My grandpa was a very passionate, not about conservation so much, but about activism and being involved in the community. So, I think I probably inherited some of it just from having family that, when you have a cause that you believe in, you fight real hard for it.
Conservation is not sexy, and most of the time it’s hard. But to be able to fight for something I love and to be able to help, even in a small way, protect something that I care about and want for future generations, I think that’s a pretty cool cause and an easy thing to rally behind.
At some point, I figured out that the end goal of a hunt is not about the pile of birds. I mean, that’s definitely a part of it—and it’s an awesome part of it—but if I can go out and do my best to be present in the moment and soak up everything that’s going on around me, hunting is more about returning with a memory to go look back on. I think that’s a successful day.
For me, public lands are my entire way of life. Without them, I don’t know what I’d be up to.
I’m happiest when I can get into that flow state—when you get to the point where you’re only focused on what’s right in front of you.
I’d like to be remembered as someone who tried to leave it better than they found it.
