Winter’s “hard water” sport

Photo by Bruce Hood

By Joe Blondia
Sun contributor

If regular fishing has been described as a jerk on one end of a line waiting for a jerk on the other, how would ice fishing be defined? Some people think you would have to add the word “crazy” to that definition.

Ice fishing can be as simple as snowshoeing out on a frozen pond or as involved as snowmobiling across miles of Bay de Noc ice.

It can be as easy as sitting on a five-gallon bucket or as extravagant as a shanty with a woodstove, couch and satellite television.

An ice-fishing trip can be a two-hour round trip for some bluegills for dinner or an all-night venture for walleyes and smelt. It can be as quiet and still as watching an ultra-light bobber or as active as jigging or running after a tip-up flag.

A day on the ice can be as solitary as a snowstorm on a secret lake in the Upper Peninsula or as gregarious as a schnapps-sharing, minnow-borrowing, auger racing a motley group of guys.

On the Glen Lakes this winter you’ll see dozens of permanent (until signs of thinning ice, that is) shanties, and dozens more temporary shanties like the one I use, and fishermen filling their buckets with perch (every year, someone catches a large Northern Pike, too).

If you are an experienced ice fisherman, find someone who has never gone and take them along on your next trip. Even if you have never ice fished, fishermen in general are a pretty friendly bunch. Head out on the hard water and see what is happening. You will find out what’s biting, what they are biting on, have a few laughs, and maybe even run into somebody who wants to share their fish. Hey, that doesn’t sound crazy at all. It sounds kind of nice. It sounds like time to head out on the ice.

Stop by or call the Sportsman’s Shop in Glen Arbor (231-334-3872) to inquire about current conditions or to stock up on gear.