Freezing for a good cause.

When your grandchild wants you to come do something with him/her it's really a no brainer.  You do it.  After all, the opportunities are finite.  So.....I got to go along ice fishing.

For my friends from civilized parts of the world this means you go out onto the frozen lake, drill holes in it, put down lines and wait for something to happen.  Or maybe not.  You typically sit on overturned five gallon pails.  This by the way is another odd little facet of Midwestern American life that few outsiders experience.

There are various ways to fish.  We were using "tip ups".  These are spring loaded lines with bright orange flags.  When a hungry pike grabs the minnow and starts running with it, the flag goes up.  You slip and slide across the ice to try and reel him in.

It's been many years since I've done this.  Truth be told I find it much less enjoyable than summer time fishing.  There's lots of sitting around.  And it's cold.  Also in the early part of the season it's a little scary.  The ice has only been forming for a couple of weeks.  It's thick enough, so I was assured, but it makes creepy groaning and grinding noises.  Also, you see way too many cracks and fissures.  And ominous sights like this:

In the end of course it was all uneventful. Both for us and for the fish.