Women Encouraging Women
January 30, 2011 by Craig
Filed under Ladies' Ministry
Saturday November 5th at 2 PM at the home of Nita Tarter.
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Bearing His Image – Part 3
Speaker: Jeff Ell
Scripture: 1 Corinthians 15:8-11
Bearing His Image – Part 3 (MP3)
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Why do we ice fish? by Jeff Ell
Note: This article was originally published for the Adirondack Express.
An American reporter made the mistake of asking Boris Yeltsin why he liked to ice fish. Yeltsin glared at the reporter for a moment; his Slavic scowl rife with disgust and disdain for having been asked such an idiotic question.
“If you had ever been you would never ask,” Yeltsin said.
He turned away, and looked for another reported who might be able to ask him a real question.
But with all due respect to the deceased, I think it’s a perfectly good question. A question that will be asked as long as folks insist on spending their days on frozen lakes. A question we will try to answer over the next few weeks as we plumb the depths of this mysterious sport.
First, in the interest of full disclosure and unbiased journalism I want the reader to know that I am an ice fisherman. I will do my best to present a fair and balanced view of the sport. But, it’s possible my perspective and prejudges may inadvertently color our discussion.
It’s likely that my love for the sport stems from childhood. For it was then, while attending an Indian Guide winter overnighter with my father, that I had my first ice fishing experience. We went to a camp with heated bunk houses and rustic cafeteria. The property had all the usual camp amenities, including access to a small lake down the hill from the main lodge.
There were all kinds of father and son activities to keep us entertained. Tobogganing, shivering, ice ball chucking, peeing your name in the snow, unthawing by the fire, to name a few. But the main event was the father son ice fishing derby. Sadly, my father was not an ice fisherman, and so when we walked out onto the frozen lake to observe the contest we felt a bit overwhelmed by all the fathers and son teams who had ice augers and tip ups.
My father might not have been an ice fisherman, but he was and is resourceful. So after looking over the situation we walked back to our Plymouth Valiant and dug around till he found a spool of old mono-filament line and some single hooks that were left over from some fair weather fishing we had done that summer.
Along the way my dad pinched a piece of two-by-four from a wood pile and we headed down to the lake. My dad is also a good beggar. He panhandled another father who gave us a minnow, and then commandeered an unused hole. He wound the line around the board, hooked on the minnow, and dumped it in the lake. We were in the tournament.
All around us flags were popping up. Happy boys and their dads were pulling pickerel from the lake. Meanwhile our sad line sat motionless in the hole. Any false hope of actually catching a fish faded as sun sank lower and we got colder. Teams started packing up and taking their fish back to the lodge to get weighed in. We left our rig in the hole and went back to our cabin to get ready for dinner.
On the way over to dinner about an hour later, I asked if I could go back to the lake to see if we caught anything. He said sure and headed over to the lodge to get in line for supper, while I ran down the hill.
When I got to the lake the only people left on the ice were some locals who were perch fishing. As I got to our hole I saw the two by four off to the side, and a guy jigging in our hole. He apologized, saying he thought our 2X4 was just a piece of junk. But there in the slush, still hooked, was a big pickerel. I stood in disbelief as the guy told me that the fish was on the line when he moved the board.
I snatched the fish, left the board, and ran up the hill with my monster. My dad (who still loves telling this story) says that as I came through the double doors, the whole assembly turned to see who was letting in the cold air. Dinner was being served, and they were announcing the winners of the ice fishing contest in reverse order.
The entire tribe let out a collective gasp when they saw that fish. The guy on the microphone saw it and said, “Gentleman it looks like we might have another entry.”
I was ushered to the front of the cafeteria, every eye watching while the derby officials verified what everyone already knew. We had won the derby.
The picture in this week’s column was taken the next day when we got back home. The fish was frozen as solid as the smile on my face. We even ate it, picking those tiny Y bones out with every victorious bite. We told the story over and over to my brothers and sisters and anyone else who would listen.
Some where I still have the trophy commemorating the win. The trophy, if we can call it that, is nothing more than a fish shape piece of felt with a magic marker inscription. It reads “First Place.” Thanks, pop.
Bearing His Image – Part 2
Speaker: Jeff Ell
Scripture: Colossians 3:10-11
Genesis 1:26-27
Psalm 135:15-18
Bearing His Image – Part 2 (MP3)
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Being Transformed into His Image
Speaker: Jeff Ell
Scripture: Genesis 1:26-27
2 Corinthians 3:18
Being Transformed into His Image (MP3)
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The Sending Church
Speaker: Jeff Ell
Scripture: Acts 13:1-4
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They Will Walk and Not Become Weary
Speaker: Jeff Ell
Scripture: Isaiah 40:28-31
They Will Walk and Not Become Weary (MP3)
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