Thirteen years living in
and I finally caved and started ice fishing! (No small irony that this has been
a winter so cold I have friends ice fishing in Virginia.)
As a child I was also told, from as early as I can remember, never go out on
the ice. It's far too dangerous, and you'll fall through and drown. I can only
remember one winter where for a short week, the local pond froze over enough
for a few games of broom hockey.
My initial thoughts on the subject were these guys must be just total alcoholics or completely hate their wives to spend all day sitting on a bucket on a frozen lake watching a small hole in the ice. Now, a few of the guys I know and fish with are complete alcoholics, and one or two do hate their wives, but I haven't been ice fishing with them yet. I have been fortunate to start out this season with a great bunch of guys, with a ton of experience, who have definitely inspired in me a real love of the pursuit. This is typically the time of the year when my withdrawal symptoms are in their worst stages, and my methadone (fly fishing the Farmy and trips to upstate NY) is starting to wane. I find myself here tonight, with a solid 2+ feet of ice throughout most of
both looking forward to the spring striper runs, but wanting to get in some
more ice fishing trips as well.
Right now, it looks like I could get another month of ice fishing in, taking me right up to April. A trip down to VA for spring break and some blue cats and musky, and the open water fishing should be picking up when I return. I'm already putting together the wish list for next season, topped with a Vexilar and gas auger. Two feet+ with a hand auger really sucks!
Here we are, on one of the coldest days on record in CT (-10), headed out to target some smallies on Candlewood.
It's like a box of chocolates...