When Luck Runs Out

I've caught trout in the summer and they put up a mighty fight. In the cold winter water however, they hardly fight at all, you just pull them right out by the line, no reeling necessary. Stunning colors, aren't they?

Our ice fishing spot on First Lake

Saturday morning a few of us headed out to the First Lake where we had planned to ice fish. Just after we had set out, Jeff motioned for us to stop and before I knew what had happened, he was holding up two dead ptarmigan with a proud smile plastered across his face. After a minute of gloating and laughing, we continued across the frozen rivers, tundra and narrow, wooded trails eventually bringing us to our destination. Immediately upon arrival, the augors were out and five holes were drilled into the ice. I was given a tiny wooden sick for fishing (Yup'ik fishing pole), that was no longer than 12 inches. I was instructed to slowly pull the line up and let it fall back down and repeat the process. About an hour in, just as I was getting antsy and hungry, I felt the first bite. As I jumped around in all my glory, Kirk helped me haul out my first Dolly Varden trout. I quickly unhooked the barb from the fish and dropped my line back into the hole. Almost immediately I felt another tug at my line and I pulled out an even bigger Dolly Varden! I was overwhelmed with excitement and hardly knew what to do with myself. Andy pulled out the third fish of the day, and I caught the final one. I had incredible luck fishing.

After such fantastic fortune, I didn't expect my luck to run out, but sure enough it did, about two miles from home. With a foot of fresh snow, we chose to take the more fun and beautiful valley trail home. This trail brings us between mountains and trees, over a bumpy and uneven path. Before I had time to anticipate it, I had hit a sideways dip in the trail. My snowmobile flipped and I flew off into the bushes. Luckily, Andy was behind me and after almost a half hour of pushing, pulling sweating and countdowns, the two of us were able to get the snowmobile back up onto its skis. Having shaken off my momentary fright, I got back onto the snowmobile. I turned the key, but the engine wasn't making a sound and the pull start was locked. Recognizing momentary defeat, both of us climbed onto Andy's machine to get Jeff who we met on his way back to find us. By the time we got to my snowmobile it was dark, we'd all been outside for almost ten hours, and the snowmobile problem couldn't be solved in its current location, so Jeff towed me home.

We finally made it back safe n' sound. Brian and I filleted the fish, Jeff seasoned them to perfection, Andy made scalloped potatoes and the four of us sat down to a fantastic fish dinner while we regaled the excitement of the day.

Removing the hook, Kirk is holding the little Yup'ik fishing pole I was using.

Andy finds his perfect spot for fishing.

Jeff marinated the ptarmigan meat in milk for about twenty hours, (to remove the gamy taste), wrapped them in bacon, added some season and grilled them. We had them Sunday night for dinner. It was some of the best meat I've ever tasted.

I woke up on Sunday morning to hear the sounds of tinkering outside. Sure enough, they were back to fix my snowmobile. As it turns out the starter was in shambles, so now I have to pull start the engine, like a lawn mower until we get the part necessary. I learned all sorts of new things though, I can even take the belt off now! Anyway, I know enough to know how lucky I am, I've got some very good friends here.