Plan C was also to be Duke's first ice fishing trip, and involved inviting another fella, who didn't make the camera, so shall remain nameless in this report. When we arrived to the hard stuff, I piloting the Chevy slowly along as Duke and Grant sniffed out the fishing grounds from the back seat.
I opened up a huge area with the Jiffy, as Grant followed with the flasher checking depths. We pounded out about 25 holes over what we thought would be a good area.
It wasn't long before Grants 4ft ultra light was buckled in half. After a strategically fought battle, this beauty's head came through the whole. Keeping in mind, we were NOT on Quinte, Slop was dancing around like a little school girl, while I got the camera's ready. A few quick photo's, we said out good bye's and away she went.
Grant and Duke certainly sniffed out the money spot.
As we weeded through a plethora of perch, many keepers made it into the bucket, with many cigars going back down the whole. Finally I noticed a good bar on the flasher with some colour. And up came this tasty treat.
Apparently Duke had the same thoughts as me......"ummmmm walleye"
We put in another 2 hours and we each took home a respectable snack of perch. A great half day spent "slaying" with Grant and Duke.
Onto Sunday.....
Well a last minute "OK" from Mrs. fatluke to slide out for another fish, had me trying to track Grant down again. Through various attempts in different channels of communication, I was able to make contact. I said I'll pick you up and we'll figure out what we're doing when I get there. As usual, Grant's response was... "Ya dude.... let's go slay"..
And we did.
Due to the frigid temps and a temperamental heater, only 1 photo was snapped on the ice.
We worked these finicky buggers for a few hours and each took home 9 good slabs for the table.
Always good slaying with ya Grant....
Cheers.
