Ice Fishing Weekend 2009

If it’s one thing you can count on throughout the Southern Ontario winter it’s the fact that you can never depend on the weather. Each year we plan an ice fishing trip to Smed’s (name altered to protect the guilty) cottage near Owen Sound. We usually head up sometime between mid and late February so we can enjoy a few more hours of fishing as the late winter sun rises a bit higher in the sky and stays out a bit longer.

Food was bought, travel arrangements made and then it happened; an early morning message from Smed saying that all the highways heading north were closed. So now what? Do we pick another weekend or play wait and see.

Finally by late morning the winds started to die down and the sun peeked through the clouds. Smed started out first and was to let us know if he thought he could make it. Well after another 45 min we got a message saying that he was making slow but steady progress. Sam started out from Ayr and was to pick me up in Kitchener on the way along. After waiting longer than it should have taken I get a phone call from Sam. “I’m on the side of the road; @#$%$ car died!” After another hour and a few bottles of gas line antifreeze, we were on our way.

Other than a few minor whiteouts, the trip was relatively uneventful. Handshakes all round, a toast to the fish gods, and off onto the ice where his ice hut, affectionately know as Red/Green was waiting. Sam soon had a roaring fire blazing in the stove as the temperature continued to plummet. After a couple of hours and no hits we decided that the sudden change in temperature had the fish all messed up so we fired up the ATVs and headed back to the cottage for supper, only to find that Smed had forgotten that he had agreed to provide supper. Oh well, a bit of fussing and some scrounging had us sitting down to a fine feed of barbequed pork chops, chased down by some rather good French wine.

With the exception of a short break for lunch, Saturday found us back on the ice for the whole day but still with only one reasonable pike to show for our efforts. Well, back to the barbeque and some nice thick T-bone steaks. So thick in fact that we only had steak; that’s right nothing else just steak, a true meateterian delight.

The weather called for blizzard-like conditions again on Sunday so we only spent a few hours on the ice, most of it in a screaming blizzard, and then quickly packed up and headed south. I should mention that I did manage to land one reasonable sized pike on Sunday morning. The drive home was even more unpleasant than the drive up, but some good conversation and CBC radio got us through.

So there it is, a whole weekend and only two fish. So why bother you ask? Well to me it’s always about the journey and not the destination. It’s the memories, the companionship of good friends and the warm glow after a couple of drams of good scotch that makes it all worthwhile. Why not drop us a line and let us know about your own ice fishing adventures.

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