The Lake Where You Live

It doesn’t cost much to get started ice fishing. When I bought my first gear several years ago, my only consideration was price. I bought a manual ice auger. Two of the cheapest rod-reel jigging combos I could find. Half a dozen jigs, a spool of orange-tinted four-pound-test line, three tipups, and a slush skimmer. All for about $200.

Yes, it’s an inexpensive sport. Right up to the point where it isn’t. After my first season I became disenchanted with the bargain jigging rods and so bought two better ones, about $45 each. The next year I paid $500 for a battery-powered ice drill — I’d found that cutting through two feet of February ice with muscle power wasn’t practical. 

Next I needed more and costlier rods; after all, the feel of quality equipment is part of the experience. The new pair, at $75 each, paid off in smoother and more reliable reels and greater sensitivity in the rod tips, helping me detect even the tiniest twitch on the line. 

I have six excellent rods now, and I rig them all before going out on the lake. If I break off a jig on a snag, I don’t have to try tying a new one on with line almost as thin as a hair, against a backdrop of snow, with fingers on the verge of frostbite. Instead I just pick up another rod. The jigs, by the way, are made of tungsten — almost $4 each.  

Does it seem the costs are escalating? The fun has just started. Next in progression is an electronic flasher (about $400), a device with a screen display that shows where the jig is relative to the bottom, and where fish are relative to the jig. Friends say if I bought one I would discover new levels of angling productivity. Then comes a sled ($50 or so) in which to tow all the gear. 

And now the money really gets serious. A guy has to stay warm out on the ice, and that calls for a heavily insulated one-piece hooded outfit ($300 or so), plus thick gloves ($75) and a woollen face mask ($20). A portable ice shelter comes next. A lightweight pop-up unit (about $100) will keep the wind off, but real comfort calls for an insulated shelter ($500) that can accommodate a propane heater ($100).

Then there’s mobility. Walking on a frozen lake through a foot or more of snow is exhausting. To fish Birch Lake in places other than right off my own shoreline I would need snowshoes ($200). Reaching distant spots on other lakes would call for a snowmobile (maybe $10,000), or four-wheel-drive ATV (about $15,000), and in either case a trailer ($1,500) on which to tow it. 

Those vehicles are out of the question, since I subscribe to my son Todd’s maxim: the fewer engines in your life, the happier you are. But suppose I invested in all the gear I’ve mentioned. I imagine sitting down to a dinner of freshly caught bluegills and having Noelle say, after doing some mental arithmetic, “The way I figure, these fish cost $500 a pound.”

“Well then,” I might reply, “It’s a good thing I didn’t catch any more.”  

Ted Rulseh is a writer, author and lake advocate who lives on Birch Lake in Oneida County. His new book, “Ripple Effects,” has been released by UW Press. You can learn about it by visiting his website at https://thelakeguy.net.