Ice fishing trip was worth the wait

Without a doubt, this has been one of the longest Muskoka winters I can remember. For most of the season, it seemed like my days would go something like this: rise at 5 a.m., stare through the frosted window at fresh snow, quickly dress and proceed to scoop enough snow out of the drive so wife could get the minivan out. Then it was a white-knuckle drive for an hour to work where I froze outside for nine hours; white-knuckle an hour home to fire up the snowblower for at least an hour or two before I passed out, praying for no more snow. The weekends involved more snow removal just to clean up what I previously missed.

This is not how I envisioned my winter.

So when a handful of days with no significant snow arrived, it made me gleeful as it finally enabled me to make plans to enjoy at least some of the season. After a quick call, I was set for a Saturday out on the ice.

As usual, my good friend Jay Poirier arrived at my house late. Having just become a father for the first time a few weeks ago, I cut him a break and instead steered the topic of conversation toward where we would be heading for the day. After a few minutes to load the sleds and assorted extra clothing, we were off to try our hand at getting a little much-needed R&R, and maybe a few lake trout while we were at it. By the time we had left the bait store and our local coffee shop, the clouds had begun to form in the distance. Although the sun shone brightly overhead, there was a small chance of flurries for the afternoon, which I hoped would turn the fish on.

A few other trucks greeted us at our destination and jumping-off point, a sign I hoped meant that the lakers were indeed biting. Quickly we threw on our spare coats and snow pants and hit the trail for the 200-yard walk to where we would be setting up for the day. Luckily for us, most of the snow had been blown away over the past few days and the walking was smooth as could be. It took us only a few minutes to cover the distance and begin setting up.

Being the rookie of the group, Jay took the helm and proceeded to cut the first hole, a short distance from where I was opening up our lawn chairs. Even with the almost foot-thick ice, the sharp auger cut fairly fast and it wasn’t long before Jay was lowering the first shiner of the day while I took my turn making ice chips. Minutes later, I was lowering an identical offering, stopping within a foot of the bottom, which in this case was 43 feet down according to my depth finder.

As Jay walked over to begin cutting our third hole, out of the corner of my eye, I noticed my rod beginning to dip sharply toward the ice. As fast as possible, I managed to stumble over and set the hook into a spunky little laker. At around two pounds, it was a little on the small side, but a bright start to the day.

After a couple of pictures it was back to work and soon enough all four rods were down and it was time to relax with a coffee. There was no time to relax, though. The minute Jay poured a coffee, he tipped it over as he ran for his rod. At the same time another one started to bounce to the left of me — a double-header.

While highly unexpected, the two of us were having a great time until my other rod bounced and then bent over violently toward the hole, drag screaming all the way. I hoisted my laker to the top as fast as possible where it broke off in the hole, dropped my first rod and sprinted over to the other one, barely preventing its loss to the depths.

The fish fought well for its size and soon a twin to Jay’s five-pounder lay at my feet. After a few quick snapshots, we released both trout in the hopes of perhaps catching them again next year. After a moment to catch our breath and rebait our lines, we were once again back in the trout business as another chunky laker grabbed the three-inch shiner as the line was dropping.

I believe that over the course of the day, the two of us managed to land somewhere in the neighbourhood of 14 or 15 lake trout and lost at least that same number. As the sun began to dip, we slowly dragged our sleds behind us back toward the truck. It had been a great day on the ice and I didn’t even let it bother me that as we were driving home, snow began to hit the windshield. I felt recharged and ready to tackle whatever the rest of winter could throw at me, plus I managed to out-fish Jay once again.

Till next time, good luck and good fishing.

Ed Haney is an avid fisherman who lives near Huntsville.