Browsed by
Tag: Fishing

Fishing Isn’t Only About Fish

Fishing Isn’t Only About Fish

Fishing Isn’t Only About Fish

It was hot Wednesday, 88° when Steve got home at 5:30 pm. He called on his way home. “What’s for supper?” He suggested something simple like sandwiches because we were going fishing. Tuna sandwiches and drinks were in the cooler, the cooler in the boat, the boat trailer on the truck, and we were ready to pull out when bad news arrived via Steve’s phone. He made a few phones call and then became quiet. Fishing isn’t only about fish sometimes.

I was away last week so Steve had to do all of my homestead work on top of his own work here and at the office. We worked through the weekend and at night after supper, and it’s been an aggravating week. Some down time together was due. It was time for a break and all things considered, sometimes fishing isn’t only about fish.

beaver, East Musquash,
fishing isn't, sunset, east musquash
musquash mountain, fishing isn't,
loons, musquash, fishing isn't
Sunset, East Musquash, Topsfield

East Musquash Lake

East Musquash isn’t the nearest lake but it’s the easiest to get to from here. Thirty minutes after leaving the house we putted across the lake to the far side, and there we sat, quietly for a while. “I guess if I’m going to fish I should get moving,” I said. “I don’t care if I fish tonight,” he said. We did fish. Steve caught smallmouth bass, yellow perch, chain pickerel and a big fat chub. I caught two bass and stick. A nice stick but still, a stick. We stopped to watch a beaver coming toward us. With the trolling motor silent and being far enough away from the road, we could hear everything.

Did you hear that?

“Did you hear that? Sticks are snapping in the woods over there.” I watched the shore, hoping to see an animal come out for a drink. I didn’t think to grab the camera. It was quiet a few minutes before more sticks snapped further away. A few more minutes passed before we got to see what was happening. Something ran out of the woods and into the water so hard and fast the water splashed over its back, above its head and so wide beyond its sides that I thought a moose calf was in the water. Squinting didn’t help me see through the water that sprayed for 100 feet as the animal ran. It wasn’t until it stopped running that we could see it clearly.

“A deer. A doe.” She  stood in water up to her belly. I remembered the camera but it was too late. By the time I changed lenses and aimed she was gone. I might have gotten one shot if the camera were a split second faster on the focus.


We put our rods down and floated. No breeze but no mosquitoes. Laughter from a camp across the lake reached us, and an occasional chip or log truck passed by so far away they looked like toys. Chip trucks…the bad news was about a truck driver Steve knows well who rolled his chip truck into the woods.

The beaver came closer, almost to the boat before turning around to swim away. We watched the ripples start at his head and fan out behind him as he moved. He disappeared and we started trolling again, catch and release, catch and release, catch and release. We didn’t keep any fishing last night. The beaver reappeared as we were trolling, moving slightly slower than the boat. We eventually caught up, getting close enough to annoy it. It slapped the water with its tail. Nope, no camera in hand. I wasn’t thinking enough about photography last night to get the best photos.


We watched the sunset. It wasn’t spectacular. The sky wasn’t full of brilliant colors. It was peaceful and relaxing, exactly what we needed. We fished but sometimes fishing isn’t only about fish, or about fish at all.

(We are waiting on updated news about the friend.)

Clean Trout in 15 Seconds or Less

Clean Trout in 15 Seconds or Less

Clean Trout in 15 Seconds or Less

Uncle Harold came knocking with four brook trout, commonly called brookies, for me Monday morning. He left with a dozen duck eggs and we’re both happy with our exchange. You can clean trout in 15 seconds or less once you get the hang of it. I think brookies are the easiest fish there are to clean.

How to Clean a Brook Trout

You might or might not need a cutting board. I use one to make clean up easier but I don’t actually make any cuts on the board. It’s easier to put the board through the dishwasher than clean the fishy smell out of the counter.

Start with a small sharp knife. I used a four inch paring knife. Hold the trout in one hand. Please excuse my fingernails, this wasn’t the first trout I cleaned this morning, and we’ll leave it at that. I don’t rinse the fish before I clean them because it will make them slippery.

Clean trout, how to clean trout, brook trout belly

Start cutting at the anus (yes, I know…but it’s fine, you can do it). This will take a little pressure even with a sharp knife. Expect to use very little pressure. The tip of the knife indicates the starting point. Make the cut all the way to the top of the body cavity.

clean trout, how to clean trout, brookie Slice up the belly with only the tip of the knife, all the way up to the gills. The knife will slide through like it’s cutting almost room temperature butter. This isn’t messy.
clean trout, salmon, cut here
clean trout, fish intestinesYou’re going to make two cuts, one at the top and one at the bottom. You can slide your fingers under the guts to pick them up.

clean trout, cut here
clean trout, slide fingers under, brook trout, how to clean a trout
Make the second cut at the end of the digestive tract, slide your fingers under everything inside, and pull out. There will be little resistance. Wash the body cavity under cold running water. You’re done. clean trout, fish guts

That’s it. That’s how to clean trout in 15 seconds or less.

When Homesteaders Vacation

When Homesteaders Vacation

When Homesteaders Vacation

Where do homesteaders vacation? We’re surrounded by lakes, ponds and streams that provide plenty of fishing and paddling. We live in Maine, Vacationland. Going somewhere means losing our peace and quiet and privacy because few places are as secluded as our house. We talked about going to fish one of the Great Lakes in New York but didn’t want to spend that kind of money with me being 99% unemployed. We chose Fish River Lodge in Eagle Lake, a three hour and 15 minute drive from home. We took the boat and Ava and Zoey. My uncle tended the homestead for a couple of days, and Taylor came home for the weekend.

This is the first time we’ve taken our high needs dogs anywhere other than to camp, and I don’t think Zoey’s even been to camp yet. Ava’s seizures are triggered by stress, and Zoey has issues being away from home after being in five places with strangers in three months last year. They’ve never been in a boat and Zoey hated water. The first time I splashed a tiny bit of water from the pond on her she acted like I’d drenched her in acid. We knew this was going to be a challenge. And then there are dogs, which Ava is afraid of, and strangers, disliked by both. Yeah for taking dogs on vacay, right? homesteaders vacation

Fish River Lodge

Ava and Zoey immediately liked Tenley, manager at Fish River Lodge. A quick sniff sniff from A and Z, and they were friends. They did just as well with Tenley’s three dogs, and Zoey struck up a friendship with Tinkerbell. When A and Z were inside Tinkerbell came to the door and woofed to be let in. Huge milestones. Ava tossed her tennis ball to Gracie and they had a great time playing indoors and out. When we let Zoey off the leash she had a short romp with Tinkerbell and came right back. Progress. homesteaders vacation

We went to Soldier Pond on Friday morning. I thought we were going to a pond named Soldier. We went to a town named Soldier Pond and fished in the Fish River. Fish River Lodge is in and on Eagle Lake. Huh? Steve asked if I looked at a map when we made these plans. <blink blink> Map? nooo. He caught fish in Fish River and I caught a couple of alders. The local warden stopped to chat. I thought for sure I’d be asked for my fishing license for the first time ever. He didn’t. He did give us some tips on flies, where to go in the river, and agreed I was in the best spot for me because “it’s wide open.” See the alder comment above…he was right.

Eagle Lake

We fished in Eagle Lake Friday afternoon and all day Saturday. The warden checked boats, keeping 20feet between his boat and others until he came to us. He pulled up beside me and we grabbed each others boats for stability. I was ready to whip out my license but again, he didn’t ask. He sent us to Mad Rock to find salmon, but we didn’t. Without down riggers we couldn’t get down to the salmon showing up on the fish finder 20 feet and more below the surface.

Fish River Lodge, Eagle Lake, homesteaders vacation
Red Bank, Eagle Lake, bass boat
beach, homesteaders vacation, picnic table
Nova Scotia Duck Tolling Retriever, homesteaders vacation, Maine Lab Rescue, Fish River Lodge
salmon lures, bass boat, homesteaders vacation, Fish River Lodge
Gary Sibley, Maine game warden, homesteaders vacation
Ava LOVES to swim. LOVES it. homesteaders vacation, English Shepherd, working farm dogAnd now Zoey doesn’t hate the water, but she’s not in love yet. She does go in over her belly! Not far enough to get the stick. Ava retrieved it for her. The Labrador Retriever x Nova Scotia Duck Tolling Retriever doesn’t retrieve in water deeper than her belly…yet.zoey swims





First Fly Rod Catch – Confession Time

First Fly Rod Catch – Confession Time

My First Fly Rod Catch

chub, eagle lake, Maine, fly fishing, green wooly bugger, first fly rod catchI started fly fishing three summers ago. For the most part I’ve had to figure it out on my own. I spent a couple of hours with a guide the first time I fished in Grand Lake Stream, and Steve gives me pointers from his limited knowledge. Steve has more fly fishing experience than I do thanks to fishing with guides on the Restigouche River in New Brunswick, Canada. I’ve been eager to make my first fly rod catch. Eager. Working hard. Staying in the water until I realize I probably got cold an hour earlier and didn’t notice. I’ve been putting in my time in hopes of landing a landlocked salmon in Grand Lake Stream or a brookie or salmon in several lakes and small streams.

Confession time. I had my first fly rod catch the first year I fly fished. The first year, and if I remember right it was the second or third time I fished. I thought it was a brook trout until I landed the fish and found a small chub on my fly. I dismissed the experience because it wasn’t a “worthy” fish, and I told few people. When I did tell someone I was sheepish, shrugged my shoulders, and practically apologized.

Fast forward two years. Two years of maturity and growth as an outdoorswoman. Two years of depth as an outdoorswoman. Steve and I have been on vacation at Fish River Lodge in Eagle Lake. We fly fished in Fish River Saturday morning and Steve caught fish. I brought three salmon into sight as they followed my lure but I could not for the life of me figure out how to make them bite. Wrong fly? Wrong movement? Why can I not catch a “real” fish on my fly rod when I can land a lure on a bass’s nose and bring it to the boat over and over and over and over again? I’m frustrated.

first fly rod catch, seasonal stream, eagle lakeWhile trolling for salmon on Saturday I heard a temporary stream rushing into the lake. That’s typically a great place to catch brookies if they’re in a lake. Steve circled back so I could make a couple of casts with my fly rod. tug tug I tugged back to set the hook and reeled in my catch. Another chub. first fly rod catch

Another chub. “Attitude, Rob. Check your attitude,” I told myself.

“It’s a chub,” Steve said.  “Just a chub,” I thought.

chub, fly fishing, green wooly buggerSee that chub? That fish there on the left? That’s my Wooly Bugger in its mouth. I caught that chub!

I caught my first fish on my fly rod two years ago. It wasn’t good enough so I dismissed it. Maturity, depth, understanding, education, knowledge – and you know what? A chub IS good enough. It’s not just a chub. I used the same skills to catch those chub that I used when I didn’t catch a “good” fish.

I’m learning to cast with a bit of accuracy. I seldom land the fly where I want it but I can probably get close. I can bring the fly to a salmon but I can’t make it rise to accept my offering. I’m developing muscle memory, and it’s pretty cool when I realize I’ve stopped thinking about every single action and am doing it naturally. I know mid-cast when I’ve made a mistake that’s going to cause the fly line to pile up on itself at the water’s surface. Everything I’ve learned so far applies to landlocked salmon, brookies and chubs. I’ve learned enough to know I have a lot to learn, and I probably don’t know enough to know how much I have to learn.

My first fish caught on my first fly rod should have been a trophy  regardless of its small size. It was a lesson. I don’t have to catch the “right” fish to be proud of my accomplishment. My second fish caught while fly fishing was a whopping 10 inches long. You can see how small it is by comparing the fish to the fly in its mouth. I didn’t take it off the hooks and hold it at arms length to fool you into thinking I’d caught something bigger than I did. This is my reality. If my fish are small or not “right” I will own it, just like I owned my small trophy bear and big trophy buck.



Riding Backwoods Gravel Roads

Riding Backwoods Gravel Roads

Riding Backwoods Gravel Roads

The weather didn’t cooperate with our plans to fish all weekend. It rained all three days of the long weekend but started to clear early Monday afternoon. “Take a ride and look for turkeys,” Steve asked? Ehh…I wasn’t really interested since the turkeys are hard to come by. Driving around looking for something we’d probably not see wasn’t appealing but I did like, and always do like the idea of going for a ride. Shotgun in hand, we left for the afternoon. We did see one turkey, a hen without poults, while riding backwoods gravel roads, but only that one.

I’m paying better attention to back roads and landmarks than I used to. If I’m not driving I don’t need to know where I’m going, right? That changed when we got the new truck. I can go just about anywhere now. I learned how to get from the Wesley town line on Rt 9 to Princeton yesterday. We followed the Clifford Lake Road to Possum Lake. It’s beautiful. I’d like to go back with the kayaks. The bank was steep, too steep to even walk down, but there must be some place to get close to the shore. A painted turtle was on a walk about, probably looking for a place to lay eggs. Do you know how I know it’s a female? (answer below)

Possum Lake, Washington County, Maine, riding backwoods gravel roads
painted turtle, riding backwoods gravel roadsA short drive later we reached Silver Pug Lake. Campers spent the weekend there and left some trash, which we picked up. Landowner respect, folks. If you can drive in with stuff you can drive out with what’s left. Anyway! It’s another pretty little lake I’d like to explore and fish. Silver Pug Lake, Washington County, Clifford Lake Road, riding backwoods gravel roadsWe did look for turkeys along the way. On the dam at the outlet of Clifford Lake I found a little bit of wildlife I wasn’t expecting. This is a milk snake. It’s the first one I’ve ever seen. I was fascinated. After deciding about 10 years ago that my fear of snakes was based on…nothing…I’ve gotten over it. They still startle me at times but I’m not afraid of them. There are no poisonous snakes in Maine. A big snake is three feet long. (Pause here while the folks with truly big snakes chuckle.) riding backwoods gravel roads

“Whoaaaa…”I watched the milk snake. Not much surprises me driving backwoods gravel roads but this snake on the dam surprised me. Not surprised as in startled but as in “hey, there’s a snake on the dam!”

milk snake, riding backwoods gravel roads, Maine, Clifford lake

Clifford Lake dam, Maine, ridng backwoods gravel roadsThis is the dam at the outlet of Clifford Lake. The milk snake was sunbathing on the center part of the dam. It rested on the wooden frame and rocks, and as the evening air changed, got cooler and damper, the snake moved into the warmth on the rocks. It moved its first two feet in and left its last six inches on the wood, head turned toward me,,  watching. I watched a snake watching me. “Nothing to worry about, snake. I won’t bother you.”

pumpkinseed sunfish, clifford lake, riding backwoods gravel roadsI sat on the dam for an hour, fishing, observing the snake, and catching a few small fish. Emphasis on small fish as my “biggest” fish was a five inch pumpkinseed sunfish. I’d had a few nibbles at the worm and waited a little too long to set the hook, hoping a bigger fish was going to be at the other end. I hooked the little pumpkinseed sunfish near the eye. They have a tiny mouth, not one I could slip my thumb into to hold while I hooked the fish. I managed a little bit of my thumb in and rested its tail on my bare foot. It didn’t fight, no struggle, no movement at all. I gave the barbed hook a wiggle. mmm…no…it wasn’t coming out that way easily. “I might need help,” I called to Steve, and then regretted my words instantly. That’s ridiculous. I had a five inch sunfish on the hook, not a barracuda.

What to do…I didn’t want to injure the fish’s eye. I slipped the leader between my front teeth and bit the line. Thank you, sunfish, for not finning me. I slipped the worm off the hook and backed the hook out easily. The little pumpkinhead was back in the water after 45 seconds.

“OO-EEK OO-EEK OO-EEK OO-EEK” A wood duck dipped over the treeline, past the dam and toward the open lake. “OO-EEK OO-EEK OO-EEK.” He was in trouble. A large bird of prey followed close behind. The duck dropped closer to the water and disappeared out of sight. The predator dropped but was empty-taloned when it rose. It disappeared over the treeline, not bothering to make a second attempt at the wood duck.

riding backwoods gravel roadsI clipped a new leader on and to that I added a floating lure. I doubted there was anything that was going to take the lure but I didn’t want to continue to catch little sunfish and yellow perch. I was right, nothing took my bait. I moved to the logs that serve as a trap for large debris that might float in on the current. Painted turtles rested on logs, warming in the late May sun.

There were seven painted turtles that I could see. There are two on this log. I stopped tossing the lure when a turtle tried to catch it. I don’t know how you unhook a painted turtle, and I don’t want to have to learn!

riding backwoods gravel roads, painted turtles on a logWe had a little more riding backwoods gravel roads to do before hitting the pavement. Our big wildlife spot of the day was a black bear not far from Clifford Lake. I never tire of riding around and hope I never will. Oh! The turtle! I almost forgot. I knew the painted turtle is female because I flipped her over to look at her plastron (bottom shell). A male’s plastron is concave so that he can rest on top of the female’s shell during mating. This turtle’s plastron is flat.


If you would like to view Outdoor Themes click here:   Thanks Susan for being the hostess.  riding backwoods gravel roads

Fishing for Supper – bass and brookies

Fishing for Supper – bass and brookies

Fishing for Supper

I often say “hunting isn’t all about killing.” As well, fishing isn’t always about bringing home supper or even fishing. Both methods of putting supper on the table involve little killing. We were fishing for supper last weekend when we went to Pleasant Lake (the one off Rt 6) to fish for the first time. I’m a die hard bass girl. I grew up with a pole in my hand and catching mostly bass and white perch.

Pleasant Lake boat landing, fishing for supperFishing for supper was more about learning one shoreline of the lake. Boulders, sudden shallow water, a gorgeous and noisy outlet, a tiny stream that’s surely seasonal during melt and again after a heavy rain, and what might be biting where were our agenda that day. Catching fish was a bonus.

The dock belongs to someone who has their camper parked in the campground for the summer. It isn’t for public use.

fishing for supper, view from the boatWe took a slow ride out to the first point, trolling for salmon and togue, neither of which we caught. I’ve never seen a togue (big lake trout) and haven’t caught a salmon in years. I’m allergic to boredom so once the first inkling of “this is boring” popped into mind I was done. I started casting.

Steve turned off the motor while he changed lures. Whatever the salmon and togue wanted weren’t anything he was offering. I heard a splash and looked up to a big circle of ripples. What was that? Splash. Splash SPLASH splash. A feeding frenzy. Mayflies were hatching. I changed to a smaller lure, cast a few times, and figured out how to work the lure. The fish were rising for the mayflies but I had nothing small that floats. By keeping the tip of the rod up I was able to keep the lure a couple of inches beneath the surface and was rewarded with brook trout! HA! I love brookies! They have a soft mouth so the hook is easy to get out, they’re “hand sized” so I can wrap my hand around it if it’s a fish I’m going to keep, and have a good grip while I remove the hook, and they don’t have a big dorsal fin to avoid while holding them in your hand. Best of all, they’re delicious.

We’re told the best bass fishing is on the other side of the lake but what the heck. The water was 54° at six inches, colder below. Bass are a little sluggish now, not at all like July when they’re almost hitting anything you want to throw at them. They need a slower reel and sometimes a smaller bait. I thought I had one heck of a big brook trout on during the feeding frenzy but it was a small smallmouth bass, about 14″. It didn’t put up much fight. I wasn’t disappointed, remember I’m the bass lover, but I let him go. As far as bass go it was small and I hadn’t looked up the regulations for a minimum size bass in Pleasant Lake. Fishing for supper has its rules. The bass had no parasites that we could see, something that isn’t all that common around here. Had it been two or three inches longer it would have been coming home with us. I was going to change lures to something a little bigger when the brookies stopped but didn’t need to – still go the bass.

strong cup of coffee, erin merrillDuring a lull in catching I tried Steve’s fly rod. It’s a little too long for me and it’s heavier than mine. I didn’t get comfortable with it but I did learn a few things. Steve fly fishes for salmon on the Restigouche River in New Brunswick, Canada. They fish from huge canoes and have a guide. He’s had the benefit of working with a guide who can tell him what he’s doing right and wrong, and he passed that along to me. I know now that I’m still using my wrist too much, and more than once he reminded me to not use my whole arm. A man Taylor, Erin from and a strong cup of coffee, and I met in Grand Lake Stream approached me while I was working on my casting. “Would you like to learn how to catch a salmon,” he asked. “I’d just like to learn to cast well.” He gave me a great tip that helps me keep my elbow where it belongs. I hold my net between my hip and elbow for the first five or ten minutes as a reminder. Without the net I was immediately making that mistake. I’ll make it a habit to take my fly rod with me from now on. I’m still trying to land my first good fish (by good I mean not a chub… a story I don’t tell) on the fly rod.

brook trout, fishing for supper brook trout, fishing for supper ten inch brookie, fishing for supper smallmouth bass, pleasant lake, fishing for supper

fishing for supper, sun behind clouds, pleasant lakeThe pouty look I have when it’s time to leave the water. I don’t use photos of myself here very often and now that I have, it’s a pouty face. You’re welcome. The sun was sinking behind clouds, the fish stopped biting, and we had chores to do at home. It won’t be long til we’re back on the water, fishing for supper.

fishing for supper, robin follette

What Do Homesteaders Do? Glad you asked.

What Do Homesteaders Do? Glad you asked.

What do homesteaders do?

“What do homesteaders do?” That question was asked of me many times last Friday and Saturday. I can’t speak for all homesteaders but here’s a list of what we do here on our 45 acres as well as on other land and on the water.

Homestead Food Production

We grow most of our own vegetables, about 95%. Corn, beans, peas, carrots, tomatoes, cucumbers, peppers, spinach, turnip, rutabaga, pumpkins, squash, Swiss chard, beets garlic and others. Dill, oregano, lemon balm, chives, basil and sage are my main herbs. I’m working on expanding the perennial herb garden.

In addition to the garden we have an orchard. There are 40+ apple trees that start as seedlings and end in highly productive trees that provide more apples than we can use, and last year more apples than the wildlife could eat before they spoiled. We also have plum, pear and peach trees, strawberry and rhubarb, and hazelnuts in varying stages of production. Chestnut and oak trees are saplings that I hope produce in my lifetime. I’d like to use some of the chestnuts. The oak are for wildlife.

wild apples, homesteadersWe have ducks and chickens year round for eggs, use some of the ducks for meat, and raise chickens yearly and sometimes turkeys and pigs for meat. We buy or barter pork and beef. We avoid factory farmed animals as much as possible but we aren’t purists. There are rare occasions that we eat that meat, and we give Ava her epilepsy medications in that hamburger.

Fishing provides some of our meat as well as a source of fun. We love to fish for bass, salmon, trout, perch and pickerel, though we seldom eat pickerel.

But...what do homesteaders DO? It's a big question. Click To Tweet

We hunt. Hunting is a traditional method of putting food on the table used by homesteaders since the first person discovered meat. Long before man domesticated animals he hunted them. We hunt turkey, partridge, bear, deer and snowshoe hare, and we hope to hunt moose. Moose requires a permit that’s given out in a lottery.

homesteaders, turkey huntingWild Harvest & Forage

Wild harvesting plays a big roll in feeding ourselves. In addition to hunting and fishing we pick raspberries, blackberries, apples, strawberries, mushrooms, fiddleheads and other wild plants. There are wild choke cherry trees galore that I don’t use, and wild elderberry I should use more than I do. I’ll be writing about this in more detail as we go through 2016.

Food Preservation

The work continues after the garden is grown, birds raised, fish caught and animals hunted. It all has to be “put up.” I make bacon and sausage, and all of the meat is frozen. All of the vegetables are frozen, canned, dehydrated or stored in the cold cellar. Pickles, jams and jellies line the cupboard shelves. These are things I’ll write about in more detail over time.


We heat with wood. We do have a small propane furnace for backup in case we’re gone longer than the fire lasts. The winter of 2014/15 was brutal. More than 200″ of snow fell and the temps dipped and stayed below 0° for long stretches. We used six cords of wood and sometimes ran the furnace to warm up the basement. The duct work loses a lot of heat to the cold basement, a problem if we depended on it to heat the house but useful when we have to keep the space above freezing. The old part of the foundation is a stone wall cellar with a dirt floor, hard to keep warm. During the mild winter of 2016 we used four cords of firewood. The furnace hasn’t been turned on in well over a year.

firewood, homesteaders


Other than poultry and dogs we don’t have anything with feet and faces. We’ve had horses, pigs, cattle (meat and milk), goats and rabbits. It was what I’d been told “real” homesteaders do so we did. A woman who worked at the feed store said “you’ll get over it.” She was right. I love OPA – other people’s animals. As long as we can buy and barter for meat locally we’ll stick to chickens, ducks and turkeys.

Paying the Bills

“But how do you live? You know. How do you pay the bills and buy stuff?” Steve’s career pays our bills. We aren’t “poor homesteaders,” something someone asked me about. We aren’t off grid. I stay home to take care of the majority of our food rather than going to work to earn the money to pay someone to provide (grocery stores) it for us. Being an introvert, I’m not cut out for working with the public or being around people all the time. I’m good for temporary stints like writing retreats.

Any questions? I’m happy to answer!

Ice Fishing – Extensive Ice Fishing Guide

Ice Fishing – Extensive Ice Fishing Guide

Ice Fishing

This ice fishing guide has been pinned from my old blog a lot lately so I thought I’d move it over here. We’re already planning ice fishing weekends, which lakes and ponds we can drive to on the snowmobiles from the house, and what fish we want to catch this winter. I haven’t caught salmon and trout so they’re close to the top of my list. Cusk is number one because it’s my favorite for fish chowder and fish fries. The flesh is white and firm and holds up well recipe I’ve used.

We’ve been ice fishish at several of the local lakes and ponds and look forward to one or two different bodies this winter. I’m ready so here’s to hoping for safe ice by the end of January. Watch for recipes this winter!

ice fishing, guide, how to ice fish