By Rick Reyer for Wausau Pilot & Review
A sure sign of winter in Wausau is crossing over “snake bridge” into Rib Mountain and seeing all the ice shacks on the lake. Like the movie “Grumpy Old Men,” it’s a village with its own character and language. I remember many years back when I took my Phoenix-based brother-in-law there on his first winter trip to Wisconsin.
His eyes lit up in disbelief. “You really do fish through the ice up here,” he said. “That’s just crazy.” Not an unusual reaction from someone who lives in a climate where fishing is enjoyed only on open lakes, rivers and streams.
Ken went on to ask about the trucks he saw on the ice, wondering if drivers were afraid of breaking through. I explained that yes, some do fall through, but only because they’re foolish enough to risk it in the spring. Or, during unseasonably warm winters, like we’re having right now.
He clearly still thought the whole idea was pure insanity, even when I told him that there’s nothing in the world quite like fresh pan-fried ice-caught perch and bluegill on your plate.
And that’s if you can catch ‘em.
Now, I am not an ice fisherman by any stretch of my imagination. I will venture out, however, on a sunny day when the temp is at least 30 and I can use someone else’s equipment. That is because my son Dan, an adult with special needs, enjoys the sport immensely. He also loves things that go fast, like ATVs. From a dad’s perspective, “things that go fast” are things Dan should avoid. He, of course, would say otherwise.
A few years back, my sister began hosting an annual ‘February Family Fun Daze’ event on a lake in northern Wisconsin. This is one of the highlights of our winter and is styled after the Olympics in a fashion, complete with opening and closing flag ceremonies, medals and photo opps. We play bocce ball, we ice skate and, of course, we ice fish.
ATVs and snowmobiles are always plentiful at this event, but one year my cousin upped his game by bringing his very cool camo ATV, and left it idling near where my son Dan was fishing. This, as it turned out, was mistake number one. I had my back to Dan – mistake number two – though I saw, out of the corner of my eye, a streak of blue parka. You need to realize, Dan doesn’t always move too quickly, except when he spots things that go fast (and, admittedly, the ladies.) By the time I turned, I realized he wasn’t in his fishing chair – but running toward that very cool ATV.
Mistake number three happened when my other brother-in-law hesitated for just a second in grabbing him, and that meant that somehow, Dan had hopped onto the machine and hit the throttle full bore.
I can still hear myself yelling “D-a-a-a-n-…..s-t-o-o-o-o-p-p-p-!” like something out of a slow-motion movie scene. My heart was pounding so hard I thought it would burst from my chest.
Ultimately, my brother-in-law grabbed the basket on the back of the machine and I managed to grab one of the rails, both of us dragging on the ice behind the fast-moving machine. Then, the basket detached and my brother-in-law went rolling onto the snowy ice. We continued full bore across the lake as I yelled for Dan to stop and the shoreline edged closer and closer. Finally, I managed to climb up onto the machine behind Dan and leveraged his hand off the throttle.
I couldn’t stop panting.
But Dan, blissfully unaware of the danger we had been in, turned to look at me with the biggest grin ever.
“More?” he asked, his eyes aglow with pure pleasure.
All I could do was hope his mother hadn’t seen it from the house. (She didn’t, but she heard the story later. That was quite the conversation.)
In the end, Dan bested all of us and had the ride of his life. He happily turned back, albeit a smidge slower than the ride out. And a little while later, he and my cousin headed back out to fish. They came back with smiles and a bucket full of perch and bluegill.
And all of us returned with a pocket full of memories to last a lifetime.
Rick Reyer is a lifelong hunting and fishing enthusiast. He is a retired broadcaster who lives in Wausau.
