PROSTAFFIN’ ICE!

Over my long two month fishing hiatus a buddy Mikey and I got to some thinkins…

“We’re getting up there dood, can feel it more and more,” I confessed over the phone. “I’m always stiff in the morning too Bunk,” ole Mikey replied, “and not in that way I used to be when I was a young lad.”

You see… next month Mikey is scheduled for both a hernia repair and carpel tunnel surgery in the same week. In Hollyweird they might call that an oil change and lube, or maybe a day at the spa, but for us Canucks I just don’t believe most folks care for nerds with knives tampering with our parts in any kinda way… yet, I did hafta wonder if maybe some liposuction might do him some good.

What Mikey and I was really thinkins about though was our fishing. “We’re not hip any more,” I whined. “The forums, the mags but especially all them social medias, they’re full of Fishing Stars nowadays Mikey. Our rambling on in reports like we’ve done for decades just ain’t cool… and to-boot nobody gives a hoot aboot our awesome fishes. It’s all just become some fast-paced like’em and leave’em, 11-second sound-biting tweet tweet, come follow me linkedin and hashtaggin’ but no more than so many characters at once kinda deal. Running and gunning for fans instead friends.”

Mikey I think kinda tuned me out awhile, but then when he tuned back in he finally answered… “I wanna be like that!” And I was like, “HELLLZ YEAH Dood!!! Me too!”

We decided right then it was time to join the masses, and so we made our plan to become… PROSTAFF!!!!!
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Tough and top anglers respect the splake. Cunning little sterile hybrid freaks that don’t know if they’re a speck one day or a laker the next. Fishing them beauty bi-polar buggers can be extremely challenging, especially when they’re ugly and depressed; as they often are. Not only that, splake come even tougher to catch cause you have to drive some place on a road in your truck, often in the early morning. Usually that place is quite far out of the way too, though fortunately somehow manages to always bypass a Tim Hortons. Also, you often have to physically walk into a lake pulling a sleigh and carrying stuff, a kind of exhaustion that fatigues the muscles and makes ya sweat. Lastly, it’s always wicked cold outside in the winter. Our work was cut out for us but Mikey and I both knew if we caught multiple huge tricky splake in tough Canadian winter climes, we would both instantly be relevant again in the world of modern anglers.
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The day we decided to go the weather was absolutely horrendous. It was below zero and the sun was shining way too bright in our eyes. To-boot, Mike and I were headed for new waters and each had no idea at all what to expect or even really quite how to get there.

After the coffee, drive and a mile walk up over a snowy hill and across some other lakes, bundled and backs saline soaked we completed the first part of our fishin’ mission.

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Some rattle and rust, it sorely felt a time since last trekking into the bush for fishing like this. For Mikey, this is often how he chooses to go about things. Although, ya wouldn’t think it with all those breaks he had to take along the way… Yet despite our panting along, making those frequent chest clenching stops, and wiping sweatcicles from the brow, the hike in was a rather glorious undertaking.

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It would be a good day to fish.

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Mikey had a plan, of course he had a plan. If he didn’t have the plan, I’d have the plan. There’s never a time when we go fishing that there’s any shortage of plans. To start this day, my first plan was to watch Mike put his plan into motion. Drill ’em… dooooood!!!

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Quick to test the new waters I got a lucky lure down the hole while Mikey’s spine was turned. Worked it fancy too with a little wiggle jiggle.

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Then, in just a minute, I felt a little nibble nibble.

Drove the hook home and reeled one up! I love it when a plan comes together… but… BUT WAIT…..

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“DANG IT ALL TO HECK,” I hollered over to Mike. “It’s a FRICKIN’ woman!!!”

Fishing for women has always come easy to a red-bearded Norse-God like me… in fact, I’ve chased ’em all over, caught and mounted so many in my life that the wallet’s been totally empty for years. This one here… well yep, a purdy fine catch too, but certainly no PB. Hammer of Thor and she was quick released. Not gonna make any kinda name for myself as an angler catching simple species like women.

I got that lucky lure back down the hole though. Worked it again too with a little wiggle jiggle. When, in just a minute, there I felt a little nibble nibble.

Drove it home to the bone!

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Mammoth SPLAKE!!! So excited when it appeared in the hole.

But then, a heart-breaker, it was unfortunately just too big to lift up and out, and the hook tore from it’s lip before it splashed away.
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Mike had made shelter and waved for me to come join him.

Inside everything was set up for success. Sonar, rods, lures, chairs, the Buddy fire burning and even some fresh bait. Pouring a cup of coffee from my thermos, Mikey was a staring down the hole before he suddenly looked up to me and said, “take a looky down there and see what I see.”

At the bottom of our holes, some twenty feet down in the gin clear, were two enormous splake frolicking in the silt… our lures there too dancing all sweet just above their heads. The knees started shaking but I pulled myself together right quick. No serious and hardened angler ever gets nervous.

In an instant one splake flashed up from the bottom and obliterated my offering. The battle which ensued was epic. Actually, it was so epic it made normal epic look stupid and outdated. Look up epic in the Living Webster next year and guess what you’re gonna see… YEAH, it’s coming, a new definition of epic.

An FYI… we usually drill 30-inch holes and so the fish here is really a lot bigger than the normal big. In fact, our big make any normal big look stupid and outdated. This fish was truly a dandy too

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And when I knelt down to take hold of this great splake, a huge moment in fishing history happened just then…

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“You’re the man Bunk,” Mikey surely whispered under his breath several times over. “I know Mikey thanks,” I answered. “Know what,” he asked? “I know I’m THE MAN!” He looked at me puzzled, maybe he felt awkward, but I know what I heard and I know he knows I’m the man. “You’re pretty OK too,” I told him. “You shut up,” he replied..? “Why so angry Mikey, you hating on me? You jealous of my fishabilities? One minute you’re saying I’m the man and the next…”

My rod suddenly buckled over and the reel peeled so hot it melted and burned my fingers. Less than one millimeter from the line escaping the final eyelet and gone, I nabbed it. Hand over other burnt hand, grimacing in pain, I pulled in the biggest splake of my life.

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Totally obliviousified by my own new awesomeness I hadn’t even noticed Mikey was locked solid into an unforgiving war with a splaker of his own. “Mikey, Mikey, I’m gonna be Prostaff now, get ’em!”

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Mikey and I high-fiver’d and hugged just then in our little shelter. We were in a zone, feeling super good and that was where we needed to be now. Confident and on our game again, cool and hip, we both put the hammer down on some serious splakeroonies.

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Finally we had a real reason to fish again. No more merely sharing our fish and experiences without purpose, in an amazing turn of events those pitiful days of old were about to take on a whole new direction… #waitforit… #youknowit… #yourgonnathinkweretotallyawesomenowandyouretotallyrightaboutthatandyouareawesometoo

Satisfied with the slay I stood up from my Canadian Tire chair to stretch and slip outside. The warmth of our cozy and efficient Mr.Buddy Heater set to low had been a little too warm in the Subzero ice fishing shelter which Mikey chooses over all other brands to fish within. #ThanksMrBuddy #SweatingitoutinmySubZero #WetItchyUndies

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The annoying sun in my eyes it felt incredible to slide on my new #Oakleys and take a breath of that fresh air made for us all in China. #thanksChinaforairandeverythingelseyoumake. And thanks to my 20-year old and still almost perfect Sorels, because in wicked style and comfort I could walk over to my HIT Enterprises rod-flag-bell-thingy, having only to pause and repair a smidgen of the Scotch brand Duct Tape that’s been there on my boot at least five years. Those of you that haven’t heard of Duct Tape, you’re either from Antarctica or you are quite challenged. Scotch brand Duct Tape can stop leaks and even trains from derailing if it has to, I know, I seen it for real on You-Tube where you can also subscribe to my new account and get all my latest videos before we even make them. Again though, serious shout-out to Scotch brand Duct Tape, #AhhhDucIT, and if you get time to check out their awesome new best ever website I strongly suggest you do…
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The snow outside on this day being very white and all, I kinda liked that, so I’m Prostaffing it now, but only the white snow. My Grandfunk Railroad jingle for white snow, “Everybody’s doing the snow ‘Pro’motion. C’mon baby, do the snow ‘Pro’motion.” Mikey had to help me with the second line. #ThanksMikey #Mikeylikesit #MikeyMikeyMoMikeyBananaFanaFoFikey. #MmmmmmMikey

I saw this handy frozen staff in the lake ice so guess what? I’m Prostaffing this staff now. #Prostaffinthestaff #Prostaffastaff. #Prostaffage

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End of the day the fishing was totally rad and that in huge part is thanks to my Chevy Silverado and it’s GoodYear Tires. Getting us to the lake safely and without having to walk 100 miles is a serious advantage. #LikeARock #OKYear?NoThey’reGoodYear. Mom, Dad, the big guy upstairs, wicked awesome you guys put me together so I could one day ProStaff everything. #AuntMabel #UnclePearl. Thanks to #supermarkets for food, SubZero for shelter, Tim Hortons for coffee and of course, Scotch brand Duct Tape and China for saving trains and giving us air to breathe. Finally, if I didn’t Prostaff your stuff yet just hold on a little bit, it’s only the first day Pro and I’ll get to you soon as able.

“Follow me” Mikey.

“Where? On InstaHam, FaceCrack, Tweeter,” he asked?

“No dummy Pro… follow me up the trail, we gotta get going.” I laughed.

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“Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha!!!!” #Ha #Haha #Hahaha
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“Hey Bunky,” Mikey smiled and asked once we reached the 2014 Chevy Silverado 5.3 V8 4X4 Off Road Edition, purchased from Chevy West Ottawa off Palladium Drive, “you have a good time fishing today?”

“Of course I did Mikey we’re on the Prostaff now. And that’s all just for fun.”

#TheEnd
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First part was all just in fun and hope those reading had a laugh. Keeping busy here during any rest days and humoring myself while down and out from fishing awhile makes for time well spent.
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That day for splake January 7th was the beginning of the ice fishing season. Thirteen days later it was over, and won’t be back at it until March.

During the short ice time I did have, a few days were spent down on Quinte and several more were shared fishing lakers.

All three outings on the BOQ saw eyes caught, but two of those three were rather slow. One Sunday with Mike, he nabbed a giant PB and had a hot stick picking up fourteen eyes for himself. I lagged further behind, crying several times through the day as rubber-hooks or dumb luck saw to it that I had to watch four tanks come unbuttoned beneath the clear ice underneath my seat. Heartbreaking and annoying, seeing three of those four big fish swim away after shaking the hook. Some days go down like that though. The consolation prize… it was an absolute slay day overall, and a memorable one for sure.

Three outings for lakers proved much better and I landed two real solid beauties. Picking up nearly a dozen while fishing on different waters, a couple friends along for the ride caught some smaller fish too, and some surprise eyes. Mike returned one day after we had been out and managed to catch himself a true valley pig, perfect timing before his season comes to its permanent end as well. Mike’s laker along with his giant eye, he really smashed ’em up good over his short ice season. Myself, I’m looking forward now to some late winter fun.

Will let some pics do the talking from here on out.