Clouser Cures the Cabin Fever

The digital thermometer reading on the bank display board read 50 degrees.  It was almost five o' clock and I was bustin my tail to get out of there on time.  Then...the phone rang.  That's usually how it is.  It's late January, 50 degrees, and the open water is calling my name.  But what could I do?  I took the call, and it was 5:21 p.m. before I was on my way toward an excursion to cure my itchy fishing finger.  A quick pitstop at home to change and pick up the pup and I was gone.  Luckily, the water that was calling me before was just across the street from my house, so the walk wasn't far.   But time was running thin.  With the girls at dance class and the horizon carefully caressing the sun's south pole, I didn't have much time until dad's other duties began.  

As we arrived at the spot and my waterdog, Lucy, dove in immediately.  I followed shortly after in my trusty neoprene waders.  For some reason I had a really good feeling about a particular fly that evening and didn't bring along any others.  Either I was going to catch a fish, or I wasn't, and the blue clouser was going to decide my fate.  Having had the opportunity to check the water conditions on my walk with Lucy at noon, I had a little time throughout the day to make a decision.  Luckily, conditions hadn't changed and my instincts served me well. 

I waded in up until the point where I began to sink into the massive amount of mud deposited by flood waters last summer.  I found a few rocks for stability and started casting.  About 50 yards away, into the marina, sat three ice fisherman monitoring rods and checking tip-ups.  There are always a few big notherns hauled through the ice during a typical winter.  I was hoping they would be feeling the fly on that night.

  

As the sun faded away, Lucy shivered with anticipation.  Hearing nothing from the ice fisherman, I decided it was about time to pack it up and head back to the fam.  "Last cast," I told Lucy as she stood at the ready in water up to her chest.  Slowly, I worked the fly in while I daydreamed of what spring will bring for the Pierre fisheries.  And then, I felt the line suddenly bolt forward when the northern inhaled my blue clouser.  The fight was on and my 7 weight made short work of the hungry predator.  Lucy made a horrible attempt at helping, but somehow allowed me to land the pike in front of a few very curious ice fisherman.  

After removing the fly and snapping a quick photo, Lucy chased our fish back into the depths.  Hopefully it will grow large and fight hard during its next encounter with an angler.  I was pumped, and quickly went home to enjoy a relaxing evening with the fam.  For this evening, the clouser certainly cured my cabin fever.