First Ice

There's a small, flooded lake on the county line close to where I live. Rumors of fish swimming between the dead standing timber were more than I could handle, and last summer my old boat found its way onto the water. I had only just pushed off from shore and was looking down through the clear, waveless track that the boat leaves behind when I spotted them. Hundreds of small bass followed in the shadow of the boat as I traveled backward off of the shore. Their eager presence pushed the surface of the water around the same way rocks do under a creek. 

I committed something of a sin when I fired up the boat motor. That little puff of blue smoke into the air felt like I just cracked a beer in church. I idled the old boat around in that pristine setting checking the depth on my Vexilar and trying to see into the lake, curious about what other mysteries the water contains. 

I filleted a few bass later that evening. 

Yesterday was completely different. A lot has changed. I have a beautiful newborn girl at home now and the time I usually would have used to prepare for ice fishing was happily filled with cooing and smiling at this new addition to our world.  But, when a week or so of freezing temps had skimmed over the lakes in the local area with some good ice I was starting to feel a pull to get out and fish.

So I put the line on the new Tickle Stick, dropped some gas into the Jiffy, took the Vexilar out of the boat, and tossed it all into the back of the pickup.

The ice at the lake was dark and clear. Tiny hairline cracks served as a visual gauge indicating  4 inches of ice to walk on. The wind was quiet and the lake was making its popping sounds that only happen when more ice is being made. I shuffled out with my ice auger and stopped walking when I could no longer see the bottom of the lake. And, for some reason, I sensed a need to turn back.

I felt something I haven't quite felt before. This sudden urge to stop and check for sure. The thought of falling through the ice broke out in my mind like a mild panic. "I'm all alone out here", "I don't even have ice picks", "what if I died" and "this stupid auger weighs like 70lbs". 

I put the Jiffy down and carefully drilled a hole so slow, worried if I pushed too hard, everything would plummet through.  But, I didn't fall through. When I checked there was still 4 inches of solid ice beneath my feet. Also to my disbelief, the flasher indicated where I stood was only 4ft deep rather than infinite. What the heck.

A few less than courageous moments later, more holes marked my path out to where I sat on a bucket jigging away.  And there, with my flasher lit up like Christmas, marking fish all across the water column, I couldn’t be happier about that 4 inches of ice.

I wonder if they make car-seat adapters for boats?

 

What looks like a boat launch is actually the road..