Iced Up

On Sunday, my Dad and I decided to depart on a short ice fishing excursion on Lake Champlain. Although the weatherman was calling for nearly two tenths of an inch of ice, scattered rain showers and 20 mph winds, we knew that it was going to be an adventure! With road conditions getting progressively worse and the winds getting stronger the farther north we traveled, turning around and abandoning the mission was a thought that seemed to linger in the back of our minds. Truth is that I had been looking forward to this day for the entire week and was itching to get on the ice. I didn’t care how bad the weather was, as long as we could safely get to our destination, I was going out. I was also in the hunt for my fifth master angler species of the season and time was running out!

Upon arrival I noticed a thick layering of ice on street signs, tree branches and even the windward side of our truck! Freezing rain was flying horizontally, carried by a stiff West wind. I put on my bibs and raincoat, gathered our gear and headed out to join the half dozen other hardcore ice anglers already out there. After punching a couple holes, it wasn’t long before my Dad was hooked up with the first fish of the 2016-2017 ice season, a beautiful gill. A minute or two later, I too was tied into a mature bluegill with distinct markings and golden coloration. I love bluegills. There’s something about their eye for details, immense strength for their size, and stunning colors that intrigues me. While the bite was tough, it was still a lot of fun. The fish seemed to be completely inactive, as we were only able to catch one or two fish out of each hole. Being quiet and persistent seemed to be the key.

After we had been fishing for an hour and a half or so, we had caught around 11 or 12 bluegills between the two of us, only half of which were keepers, and 3 largemouths, my Dad being the bass assassin. I had just punched a new set of holes and began fishing the first one that I had drilled. I dropped down my tungsten tipped with spikes and danced it around a foot off of bottom. I felt a light tap on the line and instinctively set the hook. Missed him. My heart began to pump a little faster as I lowered my rod tip back down, praying that the fish was still there. Almost immediately, my rod tip twitched again, but this time a little bit more aggressive. As I lifted the rod this time, I was able to successfully sink the hook into the roof of the fish’s mouth. Before I knew it, there was a SLAB pumpkinseed filling my hole. I gasped at the sight and lunged down at the fish and hauled it up onto the ice. By this time my heart was racing as my Dad walked over to inspect my catch. I knew that this fish was the fifth master angler fish and sunk to my knees in excitement, thanking God for allowing me to finally seal the deal on my 2016 MA pin. I have put in hundreds of hours on the water this year, but that fifth species had eluded me. Now, only thirteen days from the end of the Master Angler season, I had completed my angling goal for the year. Talk about taking it down to the wire!