While making the rounds of the nearby lakes in hopes of seeing a spot of open water, I witnesses a group of Minnesota's toughest men partaking of the winter ritual of "ice fishing". There was four of them. Normally you think of some guy standing solidly in one spot, watching his ice encrusted bobber, hoping upon hope that it will move soon and he'll catch his long awaited meal. Then he can go home and eat it.
This however, was just a tad different.
The temperature was -16 and the wind was out of the north at a brisk 25 miles per second. The man that interested me most, stook with his back to the wind, and in his bare, frost covered hand was a nice cold can of Miller Lite.
All at once, he bent over and with his weather beaten hand, scooped the ice build-up out of the hole and stood back up. Then he took a large gulp of beer, no doubt to keep himself from freezing solid. He even had a grin on his face, no doubt a remnant from a fishing trip last summer.
I looked around and noticed absolutely no fish on the ice, but he may have had them on a stringer hanging down in a chopped ice hole. Some of these guys a pretty clever.
All at once, the guy nearest to my nice warm car, bent down and started to haul a giant from the depths. His bands were bare and the grin was still there but unchanged. All four were peering down the hole when, with a great splash, a lunker perch of approximately 5 inches came up and thrashed around on the ice for about 2.4 seconds before freezing into a solid chunk of fish flesh.
Then after some ritual back-slapping, they slowly shuffled back to their own spot, drinking Miller Lite as they went. The aforementioned victorious fisherman was getting ready for another when I saw him pick up the hook. He made a funny face and with his now solidly frozen hand, picked a little white worm from his lips. Sneaky devil. He had been keeping them between his cheek and gums, just like Copenhagen, to keep them from freezing. Now that is one talented man. He drank Miller Lite without swallowing the worm. I was and am severely impressed.
I have seen some darned tough men around the world, men that fought in the jungles, men that fought in boxing rings, men that could sit in a freezing deer stand for four days without climbing down for anything. I however, have never seen tougher men than ice-fishermen.
I also now know why they never kiss their wives goodbye.
So from the land of tall pines and tall tales, I wish you well.
Best Regards,
Ron Shepherd
p.s.
Take a look at the new web site at www.ronshepherd.com.