So here’s what actually happened last Saturday morning.

For starters, there may not be a Casey’s or Kwik trip between the Twin Cities and New Ulm wearing a bright orange hat. This is a missed opportunity. Because on my pre-dawn drive from Minneapolis to the designated meeting point on a gravel road Saturday morning, I searched almost every single one to avoid being harassed by the Secret Service.

Second, hunting is the “Downton Abbey” thing we do in American politics. It’s not just foxes, dogs, horses and bugle calls. But it’s a bit silly. How can you shoot a bird with 20 reporters, 15 staff members and five social media influencers in tow?

Still, I understand it. The day has a romantic show. The prairie presents itself well. And you have to dress warmly, which my colleagues on the East Coast – in hoodies and sneakers – didn’t. We sat there for what felt like an eternity until just before 9 a.m. Walz’s motorcade arrived and the governor had his pheasant hunter qualifications checked by DNR officials.

Then we made some “fake news”. One of the photographers asked for views of the faces of the hunting party — consisting of Walz, the president and CEO of Pheasants Forever, a local landowner and a hunter from Nobles County. So for a few performative minutes, without taking any shots, the group walked toward the mobile media area with weapons in hand.

Then finally, at about 9:09 a.m., according to the timestamp on my phone, the actual hunt began.