There was a father who had four sons, all stair-stepped down in age, the youngest being three. He had a dull hand auger and was trying to drill holes while attempting to ride herd on his boys. I ended up starting my gas-powered auger and helping him out. How well I recall those days of sons, ice fishing, and dull augers. They are some of my best memories of when the boys were small.

January 1, 2013 – Tuesday

7 degrees/light snow/calm winds

Pentoga Road

Happy New Year everyone. It seems we survived 2012 and the cataclysmic forecasts that were forecast to accompany this past year. May we all be here 365 days from now to say the same about the one that lies immediately in front of us. God bless us all.

A crappie caught through the ice on Monday

I see the fiscal cliff has been averted. Our politicians have once again succeeded in kicking the can containing fiscal irresponsibility further down the road. Someday, I fear it will encounter some rather large potholes and the paved path containing what little prosperity is left, will end. Oh well, no sense worrying about that on a perfectly good holiday. Obviously, our elected officials don’t.

Monday was the fishing day from Heaven. I’m not sure if the planets are perfectly aligned, I’m holding my mouth in a certain way, or possibly, I’m relearning how to fish. Certainly UP angling methods are much different than those used in Alaska.

I began the day by accidently breaking my line. For most people, that wouldn’t be too catastrophic, but for a person with limited frontal vision, that can be a bad thing. I was lucky in that after a few million attempts, I managed to stab the monofilament line through the eye of the hook. After that, it was easy to tie a fisherman’s knot.

I felt a tug, set the hook, and promptly had my line broken. Well, I thought it was broken. In the end, I discovered I must have missed a loop or two in the easy fisherman’s knot I’d tied earlier and the hook had pulled loose. I was back to square one.

It took a while, but I eventually speared the line onto another jig and this time, I made sure it was fastened tightly. I’d been on the ice forty-five minutes and I’d had nothing but problems. I was tempted to pack up the Clam and go back home.

The line went taut before the jig hit the bottom. I set the hook and the first of almost thirty large bluegills and two crappies were brought through the hole. The rest of the morning was spent silently hooping and hollering, celebrating fishing the way I’ve not seen it since leaving Alaska. What fun!

The fish were still active when I left two hours later. I needed to clean what I’d caught and there were chores to be completed around the house.

I drove to Iron Mountain later in the afternoon to meet Sargie and take her out for a New Year’s Eve supper. After she was finished with work, we visited Mr. Milligan and wished him a happy holiday, then drove to our favorite Chinese restaurant where we grazed for the next hour-and-a-half on everything fattening and fun to eat.

The two old people who live on Pentoga Road didn’t even attempt to welcome in the new year last night. Sargie was tired and after being on the ice earlier, I wasn’t too perky myself. Sleep came quickly once our heads hit the pillows.

While the rest of the world celebrates, Walmart and its attached Vision Center is open for business as usual today. I’ll ride over with Sargie this morning, get the Blazer, and come back home. It’ll be our way of celebrating.

No doubt, I’ll head out onto the ice later this afternoon. I purchased a couple of new crappie jigs I’m eager to try.

After yesterday’s line-breaking debacle, I’m going to spend part of today manufacturing some sort of portable fishing-magnifying system should that happen again. Ah, the challenges of putting meat on the table. It’s a curse we hunters/food gatherers carry with us at all times. A man’s work is never done.

So are the tales from Pentoga Road…