A good day today for TRUE fish tales.
Years ago I took a guy to the wrinkle for his first ( and last) smelting trip.
It was snowing hard, I paid for the shack and headed across the ice. I told my friend to walk in my footsteps, as guys are always moving shacks and don't mark their holes. All the shacks had wood stoves back then and I put him inside next to the stove. After a few shifts of the ice from the tide, he got nervous and asked if he could sit next to the door. A few minutes later he had the door ajar and finally said that he was sorry but wanted to go home. I wasn't at all happy, as the smelts were biting good and knew that he would never go with me again!
As we left the shack, it was just shy of a blizzard and visibility was very limited. I told him again to follow my steps. I walked about ten yards and went right to my shoulders in a snow covered race hole! I came out of there like a "Jack in the box". When I got to my vehicle I took off my outer wet clothes and noticed that my long johns still had dry spots on them from the quick exit.
My friend "Charlie Clark said that he would never set foot on any ice again. Up until he passed away, he never did.
