Awesome entries again! You guys make this so difficult to pick only 10! Here we go... please take a min to vote for your 3 fav ice pictures.
missoulafishOpening day on my favorite place to fish. Arrived in the morning and it was completely fogged in and it stayed fogged in all day until the last 30 minutes of sun. Western Montana had an exceptional amount of snow this last winter and there was 3’ of snow on the level which made it challenging to get to the ice (walk in only). Once you got to the ice it was easy traveling though. I’ve fished this place literally for decades and for the last 30 years, opening day has always been the same group of friends fishing. This winter was different as one of my fishing buddies who has been fighting cancer for the last 25 years was unable to fish opening morning for the first time since I’ve known him, just too much snow and not enough energy to get to the ice. I told him I would try to get a decent trail to the ice and maybe he could make it out at a later date. It turned out to be one of those days when the fishing is just a bonus and you’re just appreciative to be out there. My buddy never made it out to the ice and his battle ended early this summer. His final request of all his fishing buddies…..”go fishing for me”, so I did, I am and I will.
CorndogWhen you decide to jump in a truck with your fishing buddies, and drive over 1300 miles to participate in the countries largest ice fishing contest and represent the NY/NJ east coast, you better catch fish(which two out of the four of our members did) and you better make sure to get your 80+ year old buddy, Wayne, up in the only lift on the ice and take in the veiw of over 10,000 ice fishing enthusiasts from 37 feet above the ice.
celtbassI remember being upset with myself for running late that morning, I was hustling through everything. Bulling and jamming to get all my stuff out of my truck and loaded up for the long trek to the hardside. The very moment before I started pulling my sled I finally looked up to see this beautiful site. I decided it was time to chill out a bit, slow down and enjoy one of the many reasons I love to be an ice fishermen.
wolfpak3770My kid had been away at college for four years and boot camp / Army MOS training the prior to that. This is an image of the first time he got back on the ice in five seasons. As you can see the ice was sketchy, squalls were blowing through and the worst part is, he didn't catch a dang thing. Even though the conditions stunk and so did the fishing, there was no getting him off the ice until it was too dark to see.
gofish22I'am not sure who likes ice fishing more, me or my dog. This was at the end of great day catching perch and walleye on a northern lake that we had to ourselves. What I call a perfect winter evening.
The story of my first lake trout...
DrewFlu33I made a trip up to the Canadian side of Lake of the Woods (Regina and Whitefish bays, to be exact) at the beginning of March with the express purpose of catching a lake trout. Midway through the second day of HARD daylight-to-dark, no-stopping-to-eat fishing, my buddy and I were joined at a spot over 80 feet of water by 2 locals who pulled up on ATVs probably 30 or 40 yards away. This, in and of itself, wasn't really interesting. We had a good time snickering about their thick accents and zany conversations like two 6th graders in the back of a classroom - these guys seemed more into drinking and chasing women than fish catching anyhow - but we were generally focused on the task at hand, heads down and eyes focused on our flashers hoping to spot another mark to go along with the bouncing ones that represented our respective offerings to the lake's finned inhabitants. After about an hour of drinking and shooting the breeze, the guys start packing up their stuff to leave.
At almost exactly the same time, I spot it. Or more accurately, I spot "them." "Them" being the four separate large red blotches streaking around the dial on my flasher toward the small yellow blip that represented the tube I was jigging about 30 feet below. My friend has noticed the sudden and drastic change in my body language, understands exactly what is going on, and is putting on his best poker face to avoid tipping off our friends who are just about to drive away any minute. Suddenly, as quickly as they arrived, the marks simply vanish. As I slumped my shoulders starting to come to terms with the idea that I may well get skunked, I see my friend perk up. These fish have pretty clearly moved away from my hole and towards his. Now I'm the one trying to act natural. This was much easier said than done with my heart is beating up in my throat despite my best efforts to swallow it back down, my palms becoming drenched with sweat, and my legs wanting to shake free from my body as if they've developed a mind of their own.
For what seemed like an eternity (and in actuality probably was a good 10 minutes) these fish play games with us. They bounce back and forth, always charging hard but peeling off at the last minute. Then just when we were convinced they were really gone, they'd show up on the screen of the other's flasher and do the same thing all over again. All the while we're trying to act nonchalant as we just know that letting the locals know we've got fish showing up would have them drilling holes next to us. Just when I was about to lose it over my repeated close calls with the fish and how it could possibly take two grown men this long to pack up their things and get moving, they drive off. As I watch them disappear behind a nearby island, I catch a glimpse of a large, solitary mark on my flasher, once again screaming straight for my tube. Having tried just about everything in my previous shots at these fish and quite honestly feeling a more than a little defeated, this time I chose to hold my rod tip completely still. Just as the streaking mark merges into the one representing my tube on the flasher display, my rod tip dips ever so slightly. It was the type of take you get from a lazy walleye when it's 20 below outside. Having read about the difficulty of penetrating a hook into a large lake trout's mouth, having worried during weeks of planning about how the lack of a barb on my hooks would assuredly cause me to lose fish, and having spent just about every waking moment over the last couple days doing everything I could to catch one of these fish, I set the hook. Hard. Really hard.
It was a complete whiff. A swing and a miss. A hitter flailing at a Randy Johnson fastball and coming up empty. Nothing but air...or water as the case were. That tube moved at least 5 feet through the water column with that mighty jerk, probably further. However, no sooner had I missed and felt the first "woe is me" thoughts begin to creep into my mind, my rod doubled over. The fish just absolutely blasted it. I didn't even have the opportunity to set the hook. It was all I could do to keep the rod from being ripped out of my hands and into the hole in the ice to join the fish for good.
After at least 5 long, drag-peeling runs in every direction imaginable, complete with the trademark belched air bubbles rumbling up through the hole in the ice, I brought her nose topside. Unsure of what to do with myself after finally getting to this point, I distinctly remember jumping up and down and squealing - quite literally squealing - "Get it! Get it! Get it!" Luckily for me, my buddy had kept his wits through all of this and quickly grabbed it. Finally. I had caught one. And there it was.
Some quick measurements and photos then back down the hole she went. Her 33 inch length and 18 inch girth put her between 13 and 14 pounds according to the weight calculator on the Ontario Ministry of Natural Resources website. This clearly isn't a truly large lake trout by most accounts, but for this "country boy" who grew up in the hills of West Virginia and who might as well have been fishing on another planet, it was probably the most memorable catch of my life. What a rush! After all the ups and downs of all that time spent chasing these fish, I couldn't do anything but sit down and reflect. It was a good 30 minutes before I was up and fishing again.
As I reflect, I still find myself convinced that the fish, just like my buddy and me, was waiting on those guys to leave. The timing couldn't have been any more perfect!
panfishman13late february, 2017. my dad (pictured) and i went on an overnight trip on a weekend that turned out to be mostly rain and slush, but the fish were biting and we were catching some very good sized bluegill, so we opted to stick around.
on the second day, around noon, the slush had all been melted off into massive puddles across the surface of the lake. soon after, the sky began to clear, and i got this picture
newbie on the iceNothing like ice fishing with my boy!!
gsawyerHad a friend move from Wisconsin to Wyoming who had never gone ice fishing. First ice we hit the hard water and he pulls out this beauty of a facemask he had made himself. It scared the fish so bad that when he looked down the whole they practically jumped out of the water into his hand! A master of the ice the first time out!
NessmuckI got a beer in my hand and toes in the sand !