Freezing fog and mist

January 18, 2015 - Sunday

26 degrees/cloudy/calm

Pentoga Road

With tropical temperatures descending upon Pentoga Road these past couple of days, activity has definitely picked up.

The name of the game has been fishing, running around to a couple different lakes, drilling holes, and hoping there's something swimming around under the ice that finds our small grubs and minnows too tempting to pass up.

You've heard of crop circles? These are mice circles made by alien mice that visit during the nighttime hours.

Neighbor Mike and I tried a new lake on Friday, one where I've had success during the summer months. We might as well stayed home. All we got in return for our hard effort was copious amounts of very bright sunshine, fresh air, and lots of conversation.

Saturday was a new day. Mike had gone home and I started with my usual five-mile hike. The fog was thick and I found myself walking defensively, listening for oncoming cars and trucks. I usually listen to a podcast or music while trekking. Saturday's walk was spent sans headphones. I don't trust my eyes, but there's nothing wrong with my hearing.

It was cloudy, foggy, a bit breezy, but the temperature was hovering around the freezing mark and the pull of the local lake was strong. I loaded the Clam tent and fishing gear and headed to our local lake.

What? I had the lake entirely to myself. A warm Saturday in the middle of ice fishing season and there wasn't another angler. Perfect.

I jigged lures and put out flags and for the first time in my UP fishing career, I limited out on northern pike. 

Double flags, what every ice fisherman dreams of.

Though the pan fish remained elusive, I caught a dozen bass (out of season) and six northern, one of which I had to throw back. We're allowed to keep five.

No matter how hard I try, even using pliers, it seems my hand always ends up in a northern's mouth.

I made it home in time to do a couple of loads of laundry yesterday afternoon, carry in wood, and play fetch with Brutus.

Sargie's off today. Yooper Brother Mark and Sheri are coming over later to watch the Green Bay game. There'll be no small amount of yelling and cheering on Pentoga Road. 

But first, I have some fish to process. Though they taste wonderful, northern are slimy and smelly to clean. I'm going to man-up, put on a pair of old leather gloves, and make most the mess in the barn. It's going to be cold and sloppy, but better in the barn than at the kitchen sink, especially when we are expecting company later today.

But then, are we surprised? After all, a man's work is never done.

So are the tales from Pentoga Road...