I love to fish.  I go fishing almost every day I am able to – in the summertime, spring and fall.  Winter not so much.

I see my friends bundling up and heading out to the lakes to go ice fishing.  I see them later, all aglow with stories and pictures of their catch they got through the ice.  It looks like a lot of fun.

My grandpa ice fished and I learned a lot of my love of the outdoors and fishing knowledge from him.  But the ice fishing bug just did not take with me.

Something about the idea of sitting on water, with only the reliance of the ice not breaking beneath my feet, never instilled confidence in me.  Something in the back of my head is telling me it is a sadist joke just to entice me out onto the ice so people can enjoy the show as I “blurb” out of side into the hole.  The hole, I think is the part that really unnerves me.  You are on the ice, the ice is over the liquid water and we intentional cut a hole in the ice – isn’t that like cutting a hole in the bottom of the boat?

When I was in high school, a friend of mine, an avid ice fisherman goateed me into going ice fishing with him. I was nervous, but was ready to accept this challenge.  We drilled some holes – still seems silly – and then when looking for some bait.  We pushed over an old decaying tree and found some grubs.  My friend set me down beside this hole in the ice and said, “Get ready.” 

The sun was out, it was a beautiful winter afternoon, no wind, I looked around at the scene and thought to myself, “This is going to be ok.”  Just then, I had a hit and my pole bent to the water and in no time at all I had reeled in my first fish through the ice.  It was a 3lb largemouth bass.  This should have cemented my love of ice fishing.  But as I said, the sun was out, beating down on the ice and was warming up nicely.  My friend said later, it is common for this to happen – but it was my first time and will probably be my last.

The warmth of the sun, changed the molecules and structure of the ice and with a very loud bang (sounding like a shotgun) the ice developed a crack that started over to my left somewhere along the bank and proceeded to advance, at a quick pace, right toward me.  The rather large ominous crack came at me, traveled right between my shaking legs, and just keep going to the other bank. 

I casually picked up my tackle and other effects and made my way to the security of solid ground of the bank.  I have been there ever since.

I am sure that I would enjoy ice fishing, I sure I could learn the ins and outs and maybe even become a proficient ice fisherman, if it didn’t happen while standing on ice!