A hard day of ricing makes the beer go down easy, and pays for extras

Editor's note: Editor's note: This story is part of an occasional series on solo entrepreneurial ventures known as "side hustles."

Wild rice is a big deal in Minnesota. Ojibwe tribes call the grain "manomin" and view it as a sacred part of their tradition and culture.

For Doug Brown, the wild rice tradition has become a fairly lucrative side hustle.

"I do it for the money," he said.

What's a side hustle?

If you don't know the term, a "side-hustle" is an entrepreneurial venture nurtured in the early mornings and late nights of a 40-hour work week. Side hustles can grow into full-time businesses, or just net a little extra money for extras or essentials.

Some basic Census Bureau data suggest side hustles might be on the rise in Minnesota. The bureau keeps track of non-employer establishments, non-incorporated businesses that don't employ anyone -- just one person working on their own, aka the side hustle. That number was just about 389,000 in 2012 -- up from 333,000 a decade earlier.

Previously: Skinning hides to pay for fun: The side hustle

It's a slippery figure, according to Minnesota Department of Employment and Economic Development Analyst Cameron Macht.

A good number of those 389,000 businesses, he said, are folks selling merchandise on the internet, mowing lawns, or cutting hair in their free time -- side hustles basically. But a lot of them also are guys who work construction full time -- not side hustles.

The simplest of hustles

I found Brown at his house, a tidy place off a county road west of Brainerd. The wild rice harvest starts in just a few weeks, so his equipment sits on its staging area -- the front lawn. One old fiberglass canoe, one really long aluminum pole and two police baton-length sticks - that's the extent of his ricing tools.

"You don't want to smash it off," he said, demonstrating harvest technique on imaginary sheaves of rice. "Just pull the rice over the side of the boat and rake it off."

He knelt on a stack of life jackets, whirling the batons like a wiry Midwestern samurai as the boat tilted in the grass.

The rice hustle is about as simple as hustles come. Brown throws his old canoe in the back of his truck and rolls out to any of the half-dozen good ricing lakes in the area. His 18-year-old son Shane poles through rice beds and Brown smacks the rice grains off into the bottom of the boat.

On a good day, they load a mound of rice all the way to the gunwales in six hours. Rice goes for about $1 a pound. Over a little more than a week of harvest, he and his son split $3,000 or $4,000. "We have a good time," he said. "Let's just say, after 6 hours of work, a cold beer is really good."

Brown has worked at Larson Boats in Little Falls for coming up on three decades. He laid fiberglass, installed hardware and most recently, managed the run-about production line.

Thirty years is a long time to do anything, but his side hustle goes back much further.

The first time Brown stepped into a ricing boat in the early '70s, he was 12 years old. His dad taught him the ropes, like his dad did before, and like Brown is teaching his son Shane.

"Back then, my grandfather sold his rice for 5 cents a pound and thought he was getting rich," Brown said.

A lot has changed since the first Brown decided to make a little extra cash from the rice beds. Years ago, Brown remembers a hundred boats competing for the rice of one lake. Now on a really good day he might see 25 canoes, all poled by people he recognizes.

At first, Brown said his grandfather needed those 5 cents a pound to buy school clothes for his children. These days Brown can live comfortably on his Larson salary. Rice money goes to buying guitars and amps.

He keeps ricing because Browns have always riced, and because his son wants a new set of pick-ups for his electric guitar.