I was out fishing North Pond in the Savoy State Forest from about 9:30 AM to 3 PM.
It started out sunny with partly to mostly blue skies, but clouded up in the afternoon, and eventually started sprinkling around 2:30 PM. Temps were in the upper 30's. There was a fairly stiff 5 to 10 mph breeze, which occasionally gusted up to 20 mph or so. About 6 inches of light fluffy snow (which started to melt a bit as the day wore on) covered 18" of ice.
Given the amount of ice, I took the lazy man's way out and recycled holes that someone else had cut over the weekend.
I set up two dead sticks not too far out from the shore along the "beach" and three tip ups - - one toward the center and two further out toward the opposite shore.
After a while, another guy (named Ken) set up not too far away near the beach, and was later joined by his girlfriend and her niece. Since over all action was slow, we spent a good part of the morning and early afternoon chatting, although they eventually left around 1:30 PM or so.
I also brought my full "chuck wagon." So, for lunch, I ended up cooking a steak with green chilis, and also heated up a pot of sea food chowder, which I ate along with a salad, a serving of kimchi and some sriracha covered peanuts, chased down with a bottle of Nitro Coffee Porter by Left Hand Brewing, and later (toward the end) brewed a pot of coffee as well.
I had a flag on one of my tip ups toward the opposite shore around 11:15 AM and walked over to check it out.
Whatever it was only took an inch or so of line, so I didn't think much of it - - but as I was lowering the line again, something slammed my line and started to run with it.
I was holding my tip up in one hand and retrieving with the other while wondering what the heck I had on the other end of my line.
Suddenly, I manage to pull the "fish" up to the hole and see a furry head with an irate grimace of pointy teeth, so I start yelling "I've caught an otter" (since I had otters "on the brain" after reading in the Eagle over the weekend about someone who caught one in south County).
At this point, I dropped the tip up that I was holding in one hand, while still trying to hold the line taut with the other, and start fumbling around under my jacket and shirt to reach the pen knife that I wear on a lanyard around my neck so that I can cut the line.
Fortunately, while I was doing that, the mink (which is what I ultimately concluded it was) managed to unhook itself while I was doing that, and I managed to retrieve the last of my line.
About a half hour later, I had another flag on the other "distant" tip up and this time landed a 10" brown on one which I was fortunately able to release unharmed.
I had one more flag on that same tip up about 45 minutes later, and suspect (from the way it fought) it to have been another trout about the same size , but this time it got away.
(I should probably also mention that it was my "neighbor" Ken who alerted me to the fact that I had a flag all three times).
Later in the afternoon, an acquaintance of mine named Tony parked near the beach to see if anyone was fishing, so I hiked up to shore to chat, and he ended up offering me some cuts of venison that he and his buddies had left over from a fishing trip the day before. Needless to say, I was floored by his generosity, and gratefully accepted.
All in all, I don't see how I could have had a much better day out on the ice.
