I was running on the snow-covered ice, much nearer to the shore, when I caught this cheerful sight:
३० जानेवारी, २०२२
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To live freely in writing...
I was running on the snow-covered ice, much nearer to the shore, when I caught this cheerful sight:
२० टिप्पण्या:
Wheeee!
I suspect liquor is involved.
Gerda Sprinchorn said...
"I suspect liquor is involved."
The first time I moved to Wisconsin, I was astounded to learn that virtually every social gathering was seen as an opportunity to consume alcohol, usually brandy. The church basement was turned into a bar after weddings and funerals. A shock after my Methodist upbringing, but one must adapt without being too judgemental...
The pond near our new house in Snoqualmie iced up during our two weeks of snow. But it was no where near walkable. I could see thin ice near the middle. The long-term residents told me that in the past it had iced up strong enough to walk on. Now, it's ice free.
what is he pulling?
what is he pulling?
He's an optimist. Those sleds are for bring his catch home.
Looked like a dog sled team in reverse till I put my glasses on.
He’s pulling sleds full of fishing gear, an ice auger, and a cooler full of beer.
Subject/verb, Prof?
The cooler full of beer, so the beer won't freeze.
"I suspect liquor is involved."
If not brandy, then peppermint schnapps. Probably both.
Wisconsin miracles: walking on water and driving on water.
wow -that's a lot of fish.
I was hoping they were inner tubes for kids.
A frozen lake that you can drive a car on is nature's way of telling you, "Don't live here."
Thanks, Narr
Fixed
Very welcome.
I don't think ice fishing will ever really catch on in the way curling has.
Back in 1984, I enjoyed a day's ice-fishing on Montréal's Lac des Deux Montagnes. (They call it a lake, but it's really the northern arm of the Saint Lawrence.) Nearly everyone who lives on the Chemin du Bord-du-lac owns a cabane and an ATV or snowmobile to haul it around. Some are absurdly luxurious, others, owned by les mecs, don't even have floors, let alone heat. The cabane I used had a little propane stove and a small ledge or shelf for the feet.
We were fishing for cusk (the francophones call them burbot) which are ugly but delicious. (Cusk is the poor man's lobster.) But there were other possibilities. My host had a little league Louisville Slugger hanging on a coat hook. It was for the muskellunge that occasionally shoot right up through the auger hole to grab your catch before you can even reel it clear of the ice. Quebec muskies are formidable fish, the barracuda of the Saint Lawrence. You need to whack the crap outa those monsters.
Beer fishing. Related to beer hunting.
Sat in the passenger seat of the big ole station wagon as my grandpa drove out on the lake to a collection of ice houses already out there. Everyone put their houses together, where the fishing was good. Maybe a week or two early for driving out in a car - everyone else walked that day.
We got close to the houses, and the doors started banging open and people started piling out, cursing and screaming. Too early, I guess, for driving - the ice was still flexible. All of the houses got tsunami's of water welling up out of the holes as the station wagon made the whole ice cap sunk. We flooded out about fifteen houses.
We went and fished elsewhere that day.
Haha Gerda- we always ask: was alcohol involved?
Remember ice fishing when little- minnows living in a stainless steel pail- and how cold and minnowy the water smelled. The last time I went ice fishing, it was sunny and cold- and the ice would sound off like a gunshot. That’s not my cup of tea.
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