Misery Loves Company

Yesterday I went ice fishing with my friend Ken and son-in-law Vance. It was the worst day I have ever spent on the ice in my fifty years of pursuing this unique sport. Maybe I should have known when Ken came to pick us up and told us that nothing had gone right for him all day, but we had dreams of buckets of perch. What could go wrong?

Our temperatures have been hovering near forty degrees in the day so that makes for some water on the ice but the frozen layer is abut twelve inches thick. We selected a frozen bay that requires access across private property so not too many fishermen are allowed to use it. As we started out on the ice, puddles of water dotted about half the surface. We walked using ice grips on our boots to prevent falling and covered about three hundred yards before we drilled the holes. My auger blades had suddenly lost their cutting ability so I borrowed Vance’s to finish the holes. Ken did the same.

As we settled into fishing a slight wind blew from the west and a light rain came down. We weren’t going to let a little rain prevent us from catching perch. Time went by without a single bite and the wind and rain increased. The wind started gusting and we could see waves pounding against the outer edge of the ice about three hundred yards away. Soon the water depth on the ice started rising and so did the wind. I stood up from the five gallon bucket to stretch and the bucket took off sailing away. After a brief chase which included falling flat on my back, I had the bucket and set down again to jig for perch. The wind and rain intensified and Ken said he was freezing; of course I was optimistic the fish would start biting any minute. Why quit now?

For some reason my memory of the bucket briefly failed and I stood up again. This time the bucket took off racing across the ice and Vance’s fishing gear box decided to follow in pursuit. The race was on with Vance and I trying to run across what now was ice covered by deepening water and little icebergs chasing along. The chunks of ice were being driven by the gale force winds as the outer shelf of ice was being chewed up by big waves. Vance’s fishing box suddenly stopped but the bucket continued another thirty feet and hit a pocket of open water caused by a spring. We watched the bucket make a slow retreat to the bottom of the lake. When I turned to go back towards Ken the wind hit me and I could feel it trying to push me toward the open water so I leaned into it and dug in with the ice grips. Cold rain pelted us as we gathered up our equipment and made the long walk off the ice. Another fine day off fishing came to an end.

The fierce conditions we endured on the ice reminded me how wild our God is. He flung the stars and planets into their positions, all creation follows his order. I have been blessed to experience His wildness many times in the outdoors and I thank Him for it. I am humbled by His great powers. I am sure that in a few days we will try ice fishing again, after all what could go wrong.