30 NEBRASKALand • DECEMBER 2016
them with waxworms or chicken liver.
Before long on our fi rst trip, fl ags shot into the air as
we found more than a few channel catfi sh on our lines.
Which led me, of course, to revisit Bauer and relay
another story of ice fi shing success.
"Wait until you hook into a northern pike," he said, his
eyes glowing. As were mine.
SPRING SADNESS
The coming of spring has never hurt more than it
did a few short weeks after we fi rst started using our
tip-ups. A few warmer days, days that would have once
been a welcome sight, were met with a surprise of
anger and resentment by Kevin and I. He soon would
be gearing up for landscaping season, and I would soon
be traveling west to view sandhill cranes in central
Nebraska for my own spring migration.
It was hard to explain to others, but we now
knew the joy that those die-hards sitting on a bucket
had been feeling for so many years, for there is an
indescribable level of excitement that accompanies
hooking a fi sh as you stand on the ice, a split-second
Even one or
two bluegill
can make for
a memorable
experience on
the ice, since
all fi sh caught
on hardwater
are trophies,
especially for
newcomers.
