|The view after the storm and my limit...|
Without any fishing buddies, I embarked on a solo ice fishing venture to my favorite trout hole. I can't blame anybody for it was utterly and amazingly miserable. But I would not be deterred simply because I wanted to go fishing. So I set forth in the snow storm that had canceled school and was making headway speed topping out at 35 mph. By 10:30 a.m. I had reached the landing and began the several hundred yard trek out to an ice shack owned by one of my former students. Without his generosity, this day would not have occurred. I suppose in life it's who you know and how you build lasting relationships.
Once out to the shack, my first plan consisted of building fire. I had brought some of my own timber, basically to not feel like a complete mooch. With the blaze starting, I commenced drilling five holes in a small circle just in front of the shack. The wind was ripping and it was 20 degrees when I left home, the chill had no intentions of hiding.
|The first flag...|
|The first trout via lame self photo op...|
With some diligence to the fire and continual maintenance of the gear subjected to the elements, time actually flew by. I scored a nice ten inch brook trout early, then battled stolen baits & tripped flags. Before I knew it, the cell phone read 12:56 p.m. and my intentions were to be finished in one hour with or without a limit.
Within the hour I cleaned the shack, extinguished the fire, and readied all the other gear for a faster transit to the landing. The plan was to pull the jet sled around, toss the traps in without "frigging with the rigging", take a minute to warm up in the shack, and then navigate my way back to the truck. Fortunately, I had another trout chasing a bait up the first hole so I quickly dropped it back down. Within a minute, I had my limit. But a minute of the elements meant a couple more in the shack.
|10 inch and 10.5 inch brook trout limit|