I will be the first to tell you, my outdoor pursuits are not free of blunders. In many cases, if something can go wrong it will. More often than not, I am accompanied by one of my partners in crime, Dr. Jones.
We opted to throw all the ice fishing gear we could fit into a car for our journey, and looking like the Griswolds, we left the 701. The ride down I-94 was full of laughs; mostly pertaining to adventures that didn’t go so well, we both had a feeling this trip would be destined for a similar fate. There was excellent reasoning for this feeling, auger had not been started since last winter, neither of our Vexilars were charged, and fairly confident one of us would fall through the ice.
We arrived to the lake and began to unload the equipment onto our backs and slid out onto the ice. Did we have a sled, of course we didn’t. As we made our way out onto the ice, a sizable pressure ride sat between the honey hole and us. Now I have taken a spill into a pressure ridge or two, so I was a little skeptical. To anybody watching, we probably looked like a couple fawns taking our first steps, as we gingerly edged our way across it, and of course I made him go first.
The sound of the auger firing up and our dry clothes signaled the first victory of the day, we made it to our spot, on time, dry and would have holes to fish from. Now catching fish would be the main event.
As the sun began to sink in the western sky our flashers began to light up like a Christmas tree. The Doctor’s rod bent over and he started yelling in triumph no more than 5 minutes into our trip. We struck pay dirt, as one Walleye after another found its way up the hole. Early ice is a truly magical time for catching walleyes.
Normally the typical ice set-up includes a jigging rod in one hole, and a “dead stick” in the other hole. For most of the night, it was physically impossible to keep both rods in the water, as walleye after walleye took our offerings.
As the blanket of darkness fell upon us, the action continued. We called it a night, and slowly made our way across the ice back to the cabin. As we were walking along the shore with the lantern, I noticed something peculiar under the ice in the shallow clear water. Sure enough, upon further inspection, it was identified as a little Muskie clearly unafraid of us, simply a foot above his head. The nagging alarm ripped me back to reality, it was 6 a.m. and back to the grind. We hopped out to the same spot and continued where we left off, stacking up the Walleyes, having the time of our life.
The trip ended with us loading up all of our gear onto folding chairs and pushing them across the smooth ice, looking more like small children playing than adults.
Outings such as this are amazing and until recently, I thought it was what kept me coming back for more. After this weekend though, I think the times I will never forget is when everything goes to hell in a handbag. Reminiscing and laughing about those mistakes we call “experiences” is almost as fun as the perfect trip. From the stories and laughs hidden within every trip outdoors....Keep Livin' the Dream!
Monday, February 6, 2012 at 02:28PM 
