This past winter my son and I decided to do some ice fishing in the highup in Arizona, so we headed up on a nice day, with a breeze to make it interesting. The road had been bladed so there was a row of snow along the edge of the road. We parked on the edge of the road, and loaded up and walked out on the lake. The middle of the lake was free of ice and the breeze rippled the water. We walked out a ways and checked the ice depth, four inches, so we drilled four or five holes, set our chairs up and then put some corn down a couple of holes. Put corn on our hooks and waited. Well, we had it hot and heavy and were soon at our limits, so we took those fish ashore and stuck em in a snow bank, then returned to our chairs and started over again. Before long we lacked a fish each of having our limits when a game warden comes by, gets out and hollers for us to come ashore so he can check our licenses. I told him if he wanted to see mine, to just come on out. Every now and then the water ripples would send a crack all the way to shore, and one side of the crack would raise half an inch, but no water surfaced. The game warden starts out and he's a young guy fresh out of college, no brains. Half way out the ice cracks again and the crack ran right between his legs. He hollers, have a nice day, and dashes for shore, hops in his pickup and drives off. We caught another fish to finish our limits, gathered up and walked back to the pickup and put our catch in the ice chest and left another direction. I've been skunked on that lake so many times I didn't feel bad at all. It was a great day. :bounce:
:cheers:
