Saturday, January 30, 2021

Screwy Ice Season

This has got to be the screwiest ice season I've seen. Have been following someone who's been out on a private lake since about two weeks ago, but he dropped off the radar Monday. The State Park is frozen. I saw a photo of what must have been Budd with a frozen sheet. My supervisor at work tells me the lake is open, though. Gale force winds. 

Five degrees later on tonight. It's been down close to that for how many days now, but the word Brian got is that the lake we would fish tomorrow morning is not safe! Shallow lake at that!

We could go to Budd, but my disappointment, why not admit it, is making me want to cancel for a couple of weeks. That's how much I looked forward to a lot of fish.



P.S. It's an hour later and I had forgotten about Aeroflex. I also hear Cranbury Lake is safe, and I'm sure plenty of other places to the north. Steenykill has interested me for years. It's just the stress of things in my life right now. Don't feel like rising to the occasion and trying Aeroflex, but I want to go out on my next Sunday off.

Probably Brian's lake will be safe in the morning, too. lol

Wednesday, January 27, 2021

Lake Hopatcong State Park Ice Fishing


Oliver and I met at Dow's, 1:00 p.m., bought large shiners, and drove off for Lake Musconetcong. We got the same news about the State Park at the shop that we read on Ice Shanty. Slow. From the vantage of the shop, most of the lake was open water and heavy with swells from the wind.

My son and I used to do OK when ice fishing Lake Musconetcong before it got chemically treated for weeds. I haven't ice fished it since 2008 or 2009, but I know fish have been getting caught there since the first treatment in 2010, so I figured we might do better there than at the State Park. But we found no way to get on the ice, water on top of the ice near the shore having thinned it, if it ever had thickened enough there. We tried my favorite walk on near the island, from the lot near the dam, the boat launch, and places accessible in the back, driving on to the State Park. Besides, a large percentage of the lake was open water. 

Matt and I also tried the State Park once. I don't recall how many years ago. Ten. Maybe 12. A short stint on a frigid late afternoon at 21 degrees, the wind heavy, when we fished into early dusk and got no flags. It gave me a bad feeling about the spot. That day, no one else was out, but today there were at least half a dozen other parties besides us.

When a couple of older men near to us caught a second pickerel, Oliver said, "What are we doing wrong?' I didn't answer, but when they left a couple of hours later, carrying a garbage bag full of sunfish and four pickerel, telling us they were out since 8:30 (it was about 4:00), they told us half of our tip-ups were set over sandy bottom. 

"So we were doing something wrong," I finally conceded.

I hadn't ice fished for two years, and as I prepared for the trip last night, felt I had slipped out of the habit. Same when I packed the car today, but I had told Brian Cronk that I would probably feel relieved on the outing itself. So when we got out there, I was looking for whatever it was that makes the difference. I have loved ice fishing over the course of the past couple of decades and more, and I cautiously felt that if there's still something out there waiting for me that makes it worthwhile, OK, then I'm open to receiving it. After all, I have felt committed for these more than two decades to doing some ice fishing in retirement. 

The cry of gulls brought me back to earth. I don't think it's healthy to limit activity to a computer screen. Or the specialty counter on the job. Awful music destroying the soul, which the supermarket plays to make people stupid and more gullible to purchases. I heard two swans whistle by overhead. Oliver pointed out a bald eagle to me.


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2019