Last Ice, the End of a Season
By Greg Clusiau

The last weekend for ice fishing was, indeed, almost the last.

Pike Plans
Late March, 2000......Because of deteriorating ice conditions in our area, I made plans, early in the week, to head north where the ice is thicker and big fish swim. Dave, my son-in-law, and I would set out tip-ups on Rainy Lake’s Black Bay, in hopes of catching a true trophy pike. It is here that the season is always open and if you’re set up in the right place at the right time, you just might catch a big one, as she migrates her way from the expansive waters of Rainy Lake into the spawning areas of Black Bay.

Up Early
Even though I never made it home from work until after 10:00 p.m. on Friday night, the alarm was set for 3:00 a.m. Saturday. It wouldn’t be much sleep but I looked at this trip as the "last hurrah" of the ice fishing season.

Like clock-work, the alarm sounded at 3:00 and I was on the road by 3:34. I planned on meeting Dave at the "Rainy Lake 1 Stop", just out of Ranier, at around 5:30. I wanted to be on the lake at first light. This would give us plenty of time to make a lot of noise, drilling holes and setting up. We would be fishing in six to nine feet of water so it is important to set up early and then sit quietly, waiting for fish to come through. It would be a two hour drive for me and about thirty minutes for Dave, who lives in Littlefork.

I was right on schedule when I stopped in Orr to fill my travel mug with coffee. Actually, I was surprised that anything would be open at this time. From then on, my schedule went out the window. After only a couple of minutes on the road, I was greeted with a pelting of snow, resulting in near-whiteout conditions. My speed slowed to thirty miles-per-hour at times and I went past Ash Lake without ever seeing it! It was the worst driving conditions that I encountered throughout the whole winter. And the winds! They were something again. I wondered what conditions awaited us on the lake.

Better Late Than Never
Dave was waiting in the store, when I arrived a little late. If it had been pleasant weather, I would of been disgusted with myself but because of the nasty weather at hand, I didn’t mind at all and took my time getting dressed inside the "1 Stop", where it was warm and out of the wind. I even decided to browse the tackle aisles a bit before heading out.

We drove to "Sha-Sha’s Resort", where we would walk out onto the lake. It would be a short walk of about 300 yards. I brought along my two-man Fish Trap, not necessarily for a shelter but for a sled to pack all of our stuff into. Dave’s ten-inch auger would ride on top. It’s nice to have a large hole "just in case".

Setting Up
Within minutes, we arrived at our fishing grounds and Dave began drilling holes. It was bitter out. Our fingers were numb by the time we finished setting out our legal limit of four tip-ups. All of a sudden, the main purpose of the Fish Trap was to be used as a shelter. I was glad I brought along a small Coleman "Mr. Heater Jr.". It was absolutely freezing out there. I only wished I had brought along two one-pound gas cylinders instead the one.

All of the tip-ups were placed in about six feet of water, with the bait, a frozen cisco, suspended a foot or two off the bottom. I’ve tried laying the bait on bottom at times but have done better by suspending it a little.

The Waiting Game
My hunch at being there at first-light didn’t pan out. I think if the weather had been more stable, it would of paid off. We had to wait over two hours before the first flag went up. When it did, Dave answered by pulling a four-pound pike through the hole. Not big, by any means, but it was a start.

When the holes were drilled, I noticed the ice varied in thickness, anywhere from six to twelve inches. It was this inconsistency that had me concerned with "where to walk". Also, the "honeycomb effect" had run it’s full course. This definitely wasn’t good ice but I considered it "walkable". All the reason I was really surprised when a snowmobile, pulling a sled, drove past us and headed out onto the main lake until it disappeared from sight. It returned about an hour later, right after we had iced another four-pound fish.

Warming Trend
Around noon, the sun finally came out and the winds had lessened. We had one other flag that resulted in the line getting caught around the spool. The tight line allowed a fish to steal the bait without getting hooked.

It was at this point, that I noticed the ice "shimmering". Conditions were changing in a hurry.

Disappearing Act
I was continually looking around, checking for flags. The last time I looked at Dave’s fluorescent-orange tip-up, it was there. I glanced over a minute later and all I saw was a glimpse of orange. How in the world could an "Igloo" brand tip-up, which is round and larger than the hole, disappear from sight?

I told Dave "where’s your tip-up" and he got up and began walking over to where it was supposed to be. He only made it about thirty feet, before breaking through the ice. He was wearing his "float coat", a camouflaged, insulated hunting jacket that doubles as a floatation device. He didn’t go over his head but was still more-or-less trapped in ice-cold water up to mid-chest.

Hang On
I hollered "Hang on Dave. Don’t move. I’ll get the rope". Luckily Dave brought along a thirty foot length of rope for this trip. It had a metal hook on one end, which I tossed in Dave’s direction. The first try was good, landing about a foot away.

With Dave hanging onto the rope, I anchored myself on the ice by laying down and digging my ice cleats into the soft surface. He wasn’t getting anywhere until he began kicking his feet. Finally, a minute later, which seemed to take forever, he was on his hands and knees, out of the water. At that point, he laid down and rolled away from the danger spot.

Get Out of Here
Soaked and chilled to the bone, Dave was packing stuff away into the Fish Trap while I picked up the other tip-ups. I hated to do this but I had to leave our fish. I didn’t want to risk going near them because of the looks of the ice. Also, they were lying fairly close to where Dave went through. One of my tip-ups had to be left as well. I don’t like to litter but wasn’t taking a chance in picking up a $15 tip-up. It was positioned in the "black ice" area, which didn’t look like that in the morning.

After taking a close look at our way back to shore, we realized that it was dangerous and we had to go another route. For a second or two, I though we were stuck out there.

The rope was tightly tied around my waist, as I led the way. The other end was secured to the Fish Trap, which Dave was leaning on, in trying to displace his weight. I thought it wise to go first because if I couldn’t make it, there is no way Dave would, as he outweighs me by at least fifty pounds. Also, if I fell through, Dave, who is as strong as an ox, could easily pull me out.

On the trek back to shore, I would glance back at Dave every once in a while, making sure things were alright. One of the times, I noticed my green tip-up flag waving in the wind. We had another fish on. Too bad.

The trick to getting back to shore was following the white-colored ice, which there was very little of. I’ve always found, what seems to be better ice, by walking on cracks. You’d think just the opposite but it seems to be more stable. That’s just what we did. All the way back to "Sha-Sha’s".

Summary
Dave laughed about it but I didn’t think it was very funny. As a matter-of-fact, I thought about this life or death experience all the way home. Things certainly can happen in a hurry. I just thank God that we were prepared and did the "right things" in getting Dave out of the water and both of us off the lake. As far as ice fishing, I’ll continue to enjoy the sport but have now gained a new respect for the "hard water". Also, there’s really only one fellow that can walk on water.

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