Saturday was great and I was proud to get in the truck for one more trip up north to seek some Northern Pike at Carry Bay. We had a couple members of our fishing crew pack in their stuff for the year already, so this trip was only for the extremist in the group. Bill’s Sport Shop only had fathead minnows, so we went to Island Bait on Hyde Road instead; we hadn’t been there all year but upon arrival we were not sure if it was extremely crowded that morning or if there was a party there the night before! “Knock Hard” was posted on the door to the house next the door to a seemingly desolate bait shop… Knock hard is what I did; which led to a man opening the door with a 630AM smile on his face, and into the bait shop we went. When the lights came on it reminded me of dreams that we have all had about our garage spaces full of fishing gear. Wall to wall inventory of the “good stuff”, the stuff they don’t make anymore. We received some of the best, if not the best, bait we had all year! A few extra minutes browsing the bait shop, buying used tip-ups for next year, and chatting “safe ice” we were back in the truck and headed to Carry.
After minor planking and a short walk past a bunch of punky ice, we arrived in the rough area of the lake we wanted to fish. The ice had softened a lot since the Saturday before but there was still plenty of good ice away from the shoreline or old drainage holes. The ice softened enough to allow the use of the K-drill attached to a M18Fuel Drill for all our holes. Drilling through 14 inches of soft ice barely took a toll on battery life and did not tense up your arm muscles. The ice shavings looked more like cubed ice and shards rather than shaved ice. Surprisingly there were not many people to be seen on the bay that day… Two other anglers came onto the ice about the same time we did, and they set foot towards the mouth of the bay. There was no doubt in my mind these two were on a mission.
We had a few flags during setup but nothing that would compare to our busiest of days. It was not long before we had landed the first few juvenile pike on the ice. None were hooked bad so back down the hole they went. It was one flag after another for the next hour, but we still had no keepers to show for our efforts. I needed a break from all the Largemouth Bass so it was time for a sandwich, if I get hungry maybe the big pike will too! Halfway through making a cold meat sandwich another flag was tripped. Only one of us could leave the basecamp area because an annoying seagull had set eyes on our deli meat and the small pile of panfish that was accumulating next to our sleds. I walked about one hundred yards to get to the shallowest tip-up we had set. As I approached the tip-up I could hear the reel and it was screaming! As soon as I got to the tip-up I lifted it from the water and grabbed firmly on the line to stop the fish’s run and set the 2/0 treble. Hand over hand I started to bring it in until I couldn’t pull anymore… my line was stuck in the soft ice at the bottom of the hole, so I had to use the gaff to push it away and luckily the fight was back on! I knew the fish would be a keeper at this point if I could only manage to land it. After a few more hand over hand motions the 26-inch pike hit the top of the ice, the first keeper.
Flags became sporadic throughout the afternoon, but the jigging seemed to pick up a bit as the day went on. After all year on the hardwater and only being provided with with dink perch, the sunnies and gills were a huge bonus to us. As the day progressed, we caught another 29 incher and a 30 incher that would be perfect table fare. Jigging eventually slowed a bit as the sky turned pink and the sun set lower to the horizon. What a good year of fishing I though to myself, it was time to pack up and leave.
So.... Sometimes you think you are fully prepared for whatever the day will bring you; but what if it brings you something you didn't expect? Well ladies and gentlemen, the lady sang, and her voice was cold, as cold as Lake Champlain on the first Saturday in April!
I had brought a pair of waders with me for getting off the ice, if needed, but for some reason I decided not to put them on. We had also brought some screws to screw our planks together for the extra length. I had not listened to my inner intentions that were drafted in my head on the ride up. Instead I slid one end of the plank against the shore and like a hardwater pirate I walked it! Halfway… and then fell through the ice… The plank somehow increased in density with an extra 200 pounds on it and instantly sank to the bottom. Navionics charts said 2 feet, but I know for sure my feet did not touch and my bibs took a huge gulp of water. I easily got myself up onto my knees using the other plank and the remaining ice I could touch and tossed the work iPhone to shore. The other angler with me simply took another way off the ice and made it look easy. Needless to say, I ended my season with a cold beer free balling in my chest waders! Tight-lines everyone!
