By Riki Richards

February 29, 2008 | Bundled in my black, puffy coat and camouflaged coveralls, I waddled down the steep bank of Lost Creek Reservoir like a penguin. Before I reached the bottom my feet came out from under me and I slid down the rest of the hill scattering all the gear that I was carrying. The tedious winter days spent indoors had once again driven my husband and me to go ice fishing.

Fortunately the hill was slick enough that the supplies, fishing poles and Power Bait, quickly slid after me and I was spared from the embarrassment of trudging back up the hill to collect them. Our blue sled was weighed down with our cooler, folding chairs, mini-grill and tackle box. My husband, Neal, pulled it along until we found an open area. We stopped and set up our makeshift living room, our chairs closely huddled around the mini-grill which we brought, primarily, for warmth.

With the bank behind us, protecting us from the wind, the reservoir looked like a giant white carpet. Several snowmobiles raced back and forth grunting up the steep shoreline and then zipping through the trees and out of sight. One family trekked out closer to the middle of the bay with their snowmobile dragging a sled overfilled with supplies and two squealing children.

Our blue ice auger was the first tool out of our sled. It is a 4 foot tall drill with a handle that is spun, clockwise, to force the blades on the bottom to cut through the 10 inches of ice. Neal cranked the handle while the blades churned through the snow and then ice. The last few inches of ice were the toughest, but after a few more cranks the auger dropped and a gush of frigid water bloomed out of the hole as it was extracted.

The morning passed slowly as we watched water freeze onto our fishing line and to the tips of our poles. The top of my hole was glazed with a thin layer of ice and I was extremely disappointed to see my bright green Power Bait float gracefully to the top of it. I reeled up and applied another glob of the sparkly, chartreuse bait that was the consistency of Play Dough. I put the jar of bait back inside my coat so that it would stay warm enough to use when I needed it again, and dropped my line back down to the bottom.

Our closest neighbors fished in a small black tent. Loud laughter was the only evidence of the three men enclosed in the tent who would frequently open a small window on the tent to throw out their fish and beer cans.

Another group, fishing close to us, brought their son with them. This boy, about 10 or 11, was quite bored with fishing, and his father was trying desperately to keep him interested. But after 10 minutes of sitting the boy was ready to go.

He came equipped with a sled and he dragged it to the top of the bank trudging through waist deep snow for at least 25 yards to reach his summit. He shouted to his family before jumping into the sled and racing to the bottom of the hill with a long, continuous squeal.

It was a bright, sunny day and by noon I was warm and had removed my coat and coveralls. Most of the people on the ice had done the same. One woman was wearing only a pair of jeans and a lemon yellow tank top. There were no clouds to block the sun, and I could feel my face beginning to sunburn.

Suddenly Neal got a bite. I bounced my line up and down in the hope that I could encourage the fish to taste my bait. I felt my line tug, and I quickly moved to set the hook but I missed it. The tension began to mount and we both jigged our bait furiously. I saw Neal jerk. He quickly reeled in his fishing line, being careful not to give his catch too much slack as it tried to struggle away.

The fish reached the top of the hole and he pulled it out of the water. It was a 15 inch cutthroat trout, and while Neal gently tried to remove the hook from its lips, I scrambled for the camera. Its shiny, green and silver scales glistened in the sun. Pink gills opened and closed furiously just under its throat as its slick, wet body thrashed violently trying to escape. I quickly snapped the picture and the fish went back in its hole. After a few seconds it sped away.

The rest of the day was quiet. We didn't catch any more fish, and once the child on the sled left I soon became bored. By about 3 p.m. we were ready to call it a day and we packed up our gear. I dreaded the hike back up the slick hill, now made even slicker since snow had begun to melt and so many people had walked on it. I was once again wearing my snow gear because the sled was full.

Sweat was pouring down my sunburned face and flashes of me and my gear sliding down the hill were going through my head. Neal pulled the sled and I walked behind to catch anything that fell out. We finally made it back to the truck with all of our gear and we packed up to go home.

On the ride home, I asked Neal why people like the isolation of ice fishing.

"Well most people do it to get away from their wives," he said with a wink.

Supplies for ice fishing are very basic compared to other types of fishing. Ice fishing poles are about 2 to 3 feet long but a regular pole will work just as well. Some people don't even bother with a pole and will just use a spool of fishing line; however this makes reeling in difficult. The best way to figure out what type of bait to use is to go online to a fishing report website. The one I use most often is http://www.utahfishfinder.com/fishing.shtml.

Drilling a hole is difficult without an ice auger and they are found at most sporting goods stores and occasionally at Wal-Mart. Manual ones will cost around $40 or there are gas powered augers that are much more expensive, but minimize the labor.

There are a variety of places that are close to the Cache Valley where an ice fisherman, or woman, can go including Hyrum Reservoir and Mantua Reservoir but the most popular is Bear Lake. Winter fishing opportunities at Bear Lake include cutthroat and lake trout as well as whitefish and, the most unique, cisco. Cisco fishing at Bear Lake heats up in the icy waters during the last week of January and first part of February where anglers stand in waist deep water with nets trying to catch the sardine sized fish said the Idaho Fish and Game in an article on the Angler Guide Website. (http://www.anglerguide.com/articles/112.html)

"Only a curse could make cisco fishing seem reasonably sane," they said. "Why brave the subzero cold of Bear Lake to catch these midget fish? One, you're nuts, and two you're really bored or three you need bait to pursue the Lake trout and Bonneville Cutthroat trout of Bear Lake."

One Saturday during the cisco run is dedicated to the Cisco Disco. This year the Cisco Disco was held on January 26. Scott, also known as Bear Lake Fish Guy on Big Fish Tackle's web site, describes the event as a group of friends who get together and fry cisco, scones and french fries. (http://www.bigfishtackle.com/cgi-bin/gforum/gforum.cgi?post=389341)

"Why is it called the cisco disco? Its usually so damn cold that you stand around with your hands in your pockets jumping up and down trying to generate enough circulation in your feet and legs to stay warm, and from a distance it looks like you're doing a dance," said Scott.

Safety is paramount so it is important to check the fishing reports for ice thicknesses. Most of the reports will not only give the ice thickness, but will also tell you if the ice is safe or not. The Utah Statesman said, according to the Utah Division of Wildlife Services, there should be 4 inches of ice before trying to walk on it.

"You send the fattest guy out on the ice," said Guy Cox to the Statesman. "You have to make sure everyone is prepared to help in case something happens, but if the guinea pig can make it out you know it should be safe."

MS
MS