Joatmon and I went to Firehole Friday and Saturday. We fished till dark for lakers and Brett hooked one but lost it. At sundown we settled into the big tent and started trying for burbot. We both caught some; both of us caught 22"ers. Brett managed to doze for an a hour or so in his chair while I spent two or three hours in the sleeping bag in the small tent. I even slept some of the time. We've pretty much decided to stay in a motel next time.
At dawn we loaded our sleds with what we would need and drove to another spot nearby to try for lakers. We tried to locate where I caught a 25.5"er a couple of years ago. It was a boring morning with hardly anything showing up on the flashers. We took opposing approaches: Brett did a lot of exploring while I picked a spot and stuck to it. I was tired and just didn't have a great feeling about the possibility of catching anything. At one point I noticed that my sonar was flashing a Low Voltage message so I turned it off for a while to see if I could save some juice for later. At around noon we started thinking about packing up. I had my flasher back on and could see a little red line once in a while. My view was compromised by the sunlight, the fact that both my baits were next to the same depth, and some ghost lines that looked like mild interference keet rotating through. Then one time when I gently lifted the lure I felt some resistence. Wham! I let him have it to drive that hook home, then a couple of turns later I hit him again. (Last year I had lost several due to weak hook-sets and ended up skunked. Not gonna happen this year I told myself.) I played him as gently as I could to have the best chance of landing him just in case it was a marginal hook-up. For some reason I could get him into the hole but couldn't get his head out of water. Brett reached in halfway up to the elbow and felt around until he got a gill plate and hoisted him up out of there. It was a beautiful lake trout glistening in the noon-time sun on the fresh snow. It wasn't as big as I had hoped, but I still felt very blessed. I guessed it was 19" and it turned out to be 20". At any rate it fulfilled a years-long goal I have had to catch a fish in each category of the Ice Challenge. Every year I have just missed because I was denied in one category or another.
I packed up and hauled my stuff to shore while Brett kept trying. Three years ago when we went to the Gorge the first time Brett caught one at literally the last second. He's like that, always pulling in one when everybody else has given up. Unfortunately, lady luck had gone for a siesta and didn't shine on him. So we get to go again in February. Even more so because where we thought we would be tied for first in the Other category we found out that both Wiperslayer1 and DailyAngler had outdone us. Drats, have to go fishing again. I hate when that happens!
At dawn we loaded our sleds with what we would need and drove to another spot nearby to try for lakers. We tried to locate where I caught a 25.5"er a couple of years ago. It was a boring morning with hardly anything showing up on the flashers. We took opposing approaches: Brett did a lot of exploring while I picked a spot and stuck to it. I was tired and just didn't have a great feeling about the possibility of catching anything. At one point I noticed that my sonar was flashing a Low Voltage message so I turned it off for a while to see if I could save some juice for later. At around noon we started thinking about packing up. I had my flasher back on and could see a little red line once in a while. My view was compromised by the sunlight, the fact that both my baits were next to the same depth, and some ghost lines that looked like mild interference keet rotating through. Then one time when I gently lifted the lure I felt some resistence. Wham! I let him have it to drive that hook home, then a couple of turns later I hit him again. (Last year I had lost several due to weak hook-sets and ended up skunked. Not gonna happen this year I told myself.) I played him as gently as I could to have the best chance of landing him just in case it was a marginal hook-up. For some reason I could get him into the hole but couldn't get his head out of water. Brett reached in halfway up to the elbow and felt around until he got a gill plate and hoisted him up out of there. It was a beautiful lake trout glistening in the noon-time sun on the fresh snow. It wasn't as big as I had hoped, but I still felt very blessed. I guessed it was 19" and it turned out to be 20". At any rate it fulfilled a years-long goal I have had to catch a fish in each category of the Ice Challenge. Every year I have just missed because I was denied in one category or another.
I packed up and hauled my stuff to shore while Brett kept trying. Three years ago when we went to the Gorge the first time Brett caught one at literally the last second. He's like that, always pulling in one when everybody else has given up. Unfortunately, lady luck had gone for a siesta and didn't shine on him. So we get to go again in February. Even more so because where we thought we would be tied for first in the Other category we found out that both Wiperslayer1 and DailyAngler had outdone us. Drats, have to go fishing again. I hate when that happens!
The older I get the more I would rather be considered a good man than a good fisherman.