Yesterday I had to go to Ashland, WI for some repairs to my vehicle. My vehicle had to be towed the 45 miles to the dealership, so I followed along in my wife's car. (AAA is a good service to have when you live in the middle of the Chequamegon National Forest.) Since I realized that these repairs would take most of the day, I packed up my snowshoes and ice fishing equipment with the intent of fishing the Chequamegon Bay. I hadn't heard much about how the fishing has been on the bay, but, having had good experiences in the past, I thought I would give it a try.
After getting the preliminaries over with at the dealership, I just walked off their back parking lot down to and out on the bay. It was lightly snowing in the city, but once I got out on the bay the visibility dropped dramatically. A combination of a fine snowfall and a wind from the north-northwest made the trek out to one of my favorite spots a little dicey, requiring a compass to keep on track. After about a half-hour hike, I arrived at my destination and found a few other fellow fisherperons (there were a couple of attractive middle aged ladies jigging for perch) there also.
I dropped a couple of tip-ups after drilling a few holes with a hand auger (I don't ice fish enough to justify the purchase of a power auger) and then settled down to jigging too. Now, I am not a very patient person, and hard water fishing is really not my first choice for a winter activity, but, in this case, it was really the only way to await the completion of my vehicle repairs without having to sit for hours listening to soap operas on the dealership's TV in their waiting area. The perch weren't very cooperative, and neither were the salmon or trout. So, I left my jig pole to work itself and walked around to the other fisherpersons to strike up a conversation or two. Of course, I headed right for the ladies first.
They were friendly enough and allowed this stranger to sit down and talk fishing for awhile. Soon, however, the conversation turned to the economy and the employment situation in Ashland and the surrounding area. Both ladies were single parent mom's and worked as waitresses at a local restuarant. One of the women had three children at home, and the other, two still at home. In both cases they told me that they were out fishing to supplement their families's table fare. They also advised me that they had arranged to have their children, who were of age, get their hunting licenses and accompany their mothers when the ladies went deer hunting during the recent Wisconsin gun season; all in an effort to put food on the table. They were both proud to announce that their efforts had paid off and they had meat to last for some months.
Some political pundit announced the other day that there was a "jobless" economic recovery going on in the US. One of my friends emailed me about this and commented that a "jobless recovery" was like having a "meatless" hotdog. "What was the point?" The economy in northern Wisconsin is in pretty bad shape and it appears that it will be a long time in recovering.
Unfortunately, my ice fishing efforts did not produce anything, so I was unable to supplement the ladies catch. They had a few perch, but nowhere near their limit. The catch looked sufficient for one meal for 4-5 people, if everyone left the table hungry.
I headed back to the dealership late in the afternoon, thanking my "lucky stars" that I was still working. Unfortunately, I was told by the mechanic and the service department manager that they would have to hold on to my vehicle as they did not have the necessary parts on hand. They indicated that the earliest the parts could be delivered would be next week and the vehicle was not in drivable shape. This could only spell "expensive." So, I loaded up my wife's car and headed back home with mixed emotions about what I had seen, heard, and experienced that day.
Friday, January 14, 2011
Wednesday, January 12, 2011
I have been remiss... I will try and do better.
Again, it has been a long time since my last post. Seems to be a commonly repeated refrain with me here. But, sometimes, life has a way of interfering with your best laid plans. But, today dawned with a down-like snowfall softly caressing the forest around us. We are expecting about 12 inches here and I will make sure to get out early to feed the deer and turkey. There is about three feet of snow in the forest making it difficult to walk without snowshoes. The fir trees are heavy-laden with snow from the last storm. Hopefully we will not lose any within the next few hours.
Took the "Maggie" for a long walk around the our lake deep into the forest between our little lake and the Namekagon River. This area is a two by five mile rectangle of shrub, swamp, and tamarack trees. It is also frequented by one of the largest wolf packs in Northern Wisconsin. When I venture back into that country for any length of time, especially in the winter, I carry a pack with all the essentials and a .454 Casull (Super Redhawk by Ruger) pistol. (I carry the pistol for both man and beast. Not to put too fine a point on it, but having been a criminal prosecutor for 25 years, there are families up here where I live that have family members I prosecuted and had sent to prison. Some of those family members are still in prison and that does not make for friendly exchanges between their non-imprisoned brethern and me. Better safe than sorry.) However, the beauty of the surroundings far outweigh the negative possibilities.
The walk took a couple of hours and was framed by the silently falling snow. Everything stood out in stark black and white, much like a chiaroscuro art print. Tracks of bobcat (Lynx), deer, fox, otter, squirrel, and fisher crossed our path in many places along the trail Maggie and I were following. An interesting side note here: A fox track is extremely small for a canine. One way of telling the difference between a fox track, or for that matter, a wolf or coyote track, from a domestic dog is that the wolf, fox, and coyote do not do much meandering as compared to a domestic dog. In addition, the wild canine track appears to be only two tracks rather than four, as the wild canine has a more registered gait. What this means graphically is that the hind foot lands in the front foot's track (the perfectly registered (foot on top of foot) trail pattern). In the case of most domestic dogs, the pattern is not very registered. In fact, in the snow, you can tell that it is a domestic dog from the drag pattern of the hind feet.
In a couple of places I noted a recent deer kill, evidence of poachers, as the hind quarters were expertly severed from the carcass, unlike how a wild creature would feed on it. On one of the kills, we frightened away a mature Bald Eagle which had been feasting on the fozen flesh and again noticed that the hind quarters were missing in a way characteristic of poaching. I understand the need to feed one's family, but in my experience as a prosecutor, very rarely is poaching used to supplement one's family's table fare. It is more about the killing.
Maggie and I finished the walk with me fixing myself a hot chocolate with a little peppermint shnapps, and Maggie chowing down on a bowl full of dog food. She isn't partial to shnapps, but she likes a beer now and then.
Vaya con Dios.
Took the "Maggie" for a long walk around the our lake deep into the forest between our little lake and the Namekagon River. This area is a two by five mile rectangle of shrub, swamp, and tamarack trees. It is also frequented by one of the largest wolf packs in Northern Wisconsin. When I venture back into that country for any length of time, especially in the winter, I carry a pack with all the essentials and a .454 Casull (Super Redhawk by Ruger) pistol. (I carry the pistol for both man and beast. Not to put too fine a point on it, but having been a criminal prosecutor for 25 years, there are families up here where I live that have family members I prosecuted and had sent to prison. Some of those family members are still in prison and that does not make for friendly exchanges between their non-imprisoned brethern and me. Better safe than sorry.) However, the beauty of the surroundings far outweigh the negative possibilities.
The walk took a couple of hours and was framed by the silently falling snow. Everything stood out in stark black and white, much like a chiaroscuro art print. Tracks of bobcat (Lynx), deer, fox, otter, squirrel, and fisher crossed our path in many places along the trail Maggie and I were following. An interesting side note here: A fox track is extremely small for a canine. One way of telling the difference between a fox track, or for that matter, a wolf or coyote track, from a domestic dog is that the wolf, fox, and coyote do not do much meandering as compared to a domestic dog. In addition, the wild canine track appears to be only two tracks rather than four, as the wild canine has a more registered gait. What this means graphically is that the hind foot lands in the front foot's track (the perfectly registered (foot on top of foot) trail pattern). In the case of most domestic dogs, the pattern is not very registered. In fact, in the snow, you can tell that it is a domestic dog from the drag pattern of the hind feet.
In a couple of places I noted a recent deer kill, evidence of poachers, as the hind quarters were expertly severed from the carcass, unlike how a wild creature would feed on it. On one of the kills, we frightened away a mature Bald Eagle which had been feasting on the fozen flesh and again noticed that the hind quarters were missing in a way characteristic of poaching. I understand the need to feed one's family, but in my experience as a prosecutor, very rarely is poaching used to supplement one's family's table fare. It is more about the killing.
Maggie and I finished the walk with me fixing myself a hot chocolate with a little peppermint shnapps, and Maggie chowing down on a bowl full of dog food. She isn't partial to shnapps, but she likes a beer now and then.
Vaya con Dios.
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