Fishin' Accomplished

Any doubts I harboured about Ontarians having ice fishing completely figured out were put to rest this afternoon when I had pizza delivered to my ice fishing shack out on the lake today.

I finally went on my first fishin’ trip since moving to Ontario. I went about 90 minutes north of Toronto, on Lake Simcoe. Jody, Rue Morgue’s ad guy (in the orange G.I. Joe-like get-up), Gary, our head designer (gray coat, armed with a fish), and myself rented a shack for the day and jigged for perch. Previously ice fishing trips in Alberta usually meant a cold day sitting on a bucket over a hole, or in a tiny one-man tent. But here little shanty towns spring up on the lakes as soon as it’s safe enough to go out on the ice. Ours was 7’ x 7’ and has a propane burner (ringed by roaches – not the kind that crawl) in it that keeps it toasty. Each side is lined with a bench, and there’s a hole about 2’ x 3’ in the middle that allows for a big window into the lake.

Upon arrival there was a big jack hanging around the bottom, and later we saw a sucker fish cruise by. The perch were around all day, but it was slooow, and they were small (dig that monster I'm holding up). You know when they say the fish aren’t biting? Well this was today. We could see ‘em dart over to our hooks, stare at ‘em for awhile, and then be all like, “Naw, fuck that” and swim away like they had something better to do. It was a bit frustrating, but we managed to get maybe 30 or 40 between us; nothing nearly big enough to keep.

At least the beers we brought out were regulation-size, and damn if they company we rented from didn’t bring warm pizza right to the door. I could get used to this. The next hut I rent better have a fold-down massage table, PS2 and a goddamned crepe station.