So on to 2023!
I decided to go ice fishing today.
My daughter is the real ice fishing aficionado in our family. I had some experience with it as a boy, but oddly enough, my father didn't really engage in much ice fishing. He was a dedicated fisherman, so that's surprising. Indeed, he probably was slightly more of a fisherman than a hunter, and I in contrast I am definitely more of a hunter than a fisherman. I know that his father did both, as we all do, but I don't know how that scale balanced. I've really only heard about my father's father in regard to bird hunting, although I know that he fished the streams as well, like we all do.
Anyhow, back when I was young, in the 70s, I recall ice fishing at Alcova, which I'd be a bit afraid to do today, but it wasn't very often. I also recall people parking their trucks on the ice, which I'd never do today. My father chopped a hole in the ice with a spade, which I don't recall anyone doing since that time.
It was fun.
We have a hand auger. Much better than a spade. And little ice fishing poles, which isn't what my father used.
I didn't make it out last year. I hunted geese until the end of January, not terribly successfully, and it warmed up too much to ice fish.
Not this year.
In fact, today, going out by myself, as my daughter lives in Laramie now, I found myself flagged down going in, after I passed the snow plow. A really nice fellow I know, having called him as a witness on the Reservation, and a city councilman, formally one of my kid's religious education teachers, informed me the road was drifted in. I thanked them and pulled off
The dog wasn't pleased.
The dog believes that he's integral to fishing, and that without him, the endeavor will fail. He's very serious about his hunting occupation, and fishing is of course fish hunting.
I pulled off to let him wee. .. okay and I needed to wee too. After that, in spite of being warned, I drove down the road toward the lake.
Oh man, was it ever drifted in.
I went back down the road and met a fisherman from Douglas near the highway. He was waiting for me for a road report. He'd driven a long ways and had a lot of poles, a true ice fisherman. I gave the road report to him. He decided to try Alcova. I decided to try a different high mountain lake.
And yes, I'm not going to mention it.
Before I left for that one, I received a call from my son's girlfriend. She's a dedicated fly fisherman, a rare quality in a girlfriend and one to be seriously admired. My pickup, which my son is driving, she related, had been rear ended in a Laramie blizzard. I have his truck right now as it's having a complete mechanical breakdown.
Turns out it wasn't bad.
Couldn't make that other high mountain lake either. It was also drifted in.
Oh well.
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