Birdshot and backlashes

Deer hunting is here. Ice fishing is about upon us. Well, not on all of us. Just those of us who engage in this activity. Certainly the major part of our senior population has no interest in obtaining fish by dropping a line through a hole in the ice. Most sports-minded folk are watching football or basketball from the warm comfort of their living rooms. Most of them are dimly aware that there are some misguided or perhaps mentally impaired citizens who tread out upon the frozen, windswept surfaces of our lakes intent on harvesting, perhaps, the ingredients for a walleye, trout or pike dinner, frost bite notwithstanding. Ice fisherfolk, although few in number, are an enthusiastic and hearty breed, possibly due in part to the Scandinavian heritage of the north country. Unfortunately, they seem compelled to discuss their activity at length. Meet one in a coffee shop, and he is apt to launch into a lengthy monologue concerning his latest piscatorial exploits. Something like this:“Hey, Al. You shoulda seen the pike I nailed up on the reservoir last Saturday. Son of a gun hadda be over three feet long. Gave me a heck of a battle.”Al glances up. “Yeah.”“Got him on a chartreuse jig with a seven-inch sucker minnow.”Al says “uh huh,” picks up his coffee cup and moves quickly away. The facts are, nobody but ice fisherman care about ice fishing. Most wives think ice fishermen are nuts, but for the sake of marital harmony, refrain from belaboring the point although one may discuss it at some length with other wives in the neighborhood, particularly those whose spouses are similarly afflicted.Indeed, ice fishing is an affliction. There is not a single psychologist who labels ice fishing a sport. Well, maybe one. I won’t mention his name because he goes ice fishing, too, and would rather not have his patients know about it.There are actually two kinds of ice fishermen- softies and hard core. Softies are those who pursue their activity inside some sort of a shelter, semipermanent or portable. The portable ones are fold-up, metal frame, canvas huts which can be erected on the ice in a few minutes. Semipermanent ones may be quite elaborate with cook stoves, generators, electric lights, cots and radios so the excitement of football or basketball maybe enjoyed while keeping tabs on fish lines.But it is the hard core devotees of frigid fishing who are the purists, something like summertime trout anglers who seek their prey with finely crafted tackle, gossamer leaders and a litany of detailed procedure. Well, maybe ice anglers are not that focused, but they are hard core.Equipment-wise, each tote stubby rods, hooks, bait, ice skimmer, thermos and lunch in a 10-gallon plastic bucket, held by one mitten. On the opposite shoulder is balanced a Finnish ice auger, a unique device which cuts through the frozen surface like soft cheese. The bucket, turned upside down, becomes a seat.The ice angler sits on his bucket staring down a hole which he must keep skimming to prevent freezing shut, all the while dreaming of his warm home, hot coffee and maybe a platter of chocolate chip cookies alongside the TV set.Of course, when he is home with the coffee and cookies watching TV, his mind wanders to the frozen lakes and the fish cruising around beneath the surface. There is really no explanation for it. Some medical people diagnose it as an affliction unique to ice fishermen. The term used is PIFS which stands for Pre-Ice Fishing Syndrome. It is a unique condition, bordering on panic, found among hard core ice anglers who don’t think the lakes are ever going to freeze. It is a delusion particularly difficult to treat, psychiatrists say, because all fishermen are delusional to being with.Best move is to not get involved. When it comes to ice fishing, just say “No!”